Tuesday, November 23, 2004
Notes From Elsewhere
It would appear that most people are taking off early for Thanksgiving, because the news is sloooow. A couple notes:
TwinsGeek has left the building. The Star-Tribune's building, at least. One of the few baseball bloggers to become formally associated with a mainstream media outlet, TwinsGeek announced yesterday that his agreement with the paper was going to expire this week, and by today he was already back on his own website. I couldn't find the link to his column yesterday (rebuilding those archives takes time, as he notes), but he made some comments regarding the writers' union having some concerns. In any case, he's not going anywhere (except off the Strib's website).
Geoff at Ducksnorts came to town this weekend for the AFL Championship Game. He promises more on the actual game I think, but his post today covers McDowell Road. It's hardly a sympathetic portrait of the road, and leads me only to think... you didn't actually drive all 57-odd miles of McDowell, did you, Geoff? But, no, Phoenix's non-taqueria options after 2 AM are pretty slim...
The D-Backs have apparently made one more (final?) offer to Richie Sexson, giving him two different salary offers. They've also apparently guaranteed the contract for everything except shoulder injuries. With that and average salaries topping $10 million, if Richie doesn't want to sign, I wish him the best elsewhere. (Actually, I guess I felt that way before this last offer, but I certainly feel that way now.)
And for no other reason than I was listening to the Pixies' greatest hits CD (still relishing their concert last month), here's a slightly apropos (or not) ode to Richie. Is he really the D-Backs' man?
"Here Comes Your Man" -- The Pixies
outside there's a box car waiting
outside the family stew
out by the fire breathing
outside we wait 'til face turns blue
i know the nervous walking
i know the dirty beard
hangs out by the box car waiting
take me away to nowhere plains
there is a wait so long
here comes your man
big shake on the box car moving
big shake to the land that's falling down
is a wind makes a palm stop blowing
a big, big stone fall and break my crown
there is a wait so long
you'll never wait so long
here comes your man
there is a wait so long
you'll never wait so long
here comes your man
TwinsGeek has left the building. The Star-Tribune's building, at least. One of the few baseball bloggers to become formally associated with a mainstream media outlet, TwinsGeek announced yesterday that his agreement with the paper was going to expire this week, and by today he was already back on his own website. I couldn't find the link to his column yesterday (rebuilding those archives takes time, as he notes), but he made some comments regarding the writers' union having some concerns. In any case, he's not going anywhere (except off the Strib's website).
Geoff at Ducksnorts came to town this weekend for the AFL Championship Game. He promises more on the actual game I think, but his post today covers McDowell Road. It's hardly a sympathetic portrait of the road, and leads me only to think... you didn't actually drive all 57-odd miles of McDowell, did you, Geoff? But, no, Phoenix's non-taqueria options after 2 AM are pretty slim...
The D-Backs have apparently made one more (final?) offer to Richie Sexson, giving him two different salary offers. They've also apparently guaranteed the contract for everything except shoulder injuries. With that and average salaries topping $10 million, if Richie doesn't want to sign, I wish him the best elsewhere. (Actually, I guess I felt that way before this last offer, but I certainly feel that way now.)
And for no other reason than I was listening to the Pixies' greatest hits CD (still relishing their concert last month), here's a slightly apropos (or not) ode to Richie. Is he really the D-Backs' man?
"Here Comes Your Man" -- The Pixies
outside there's a box car waiting
outside the family stew
out by the fire breathing
outside we wait 'til face turns blue
i know the nervous walking
i know the dirty beard
hangs out by the box car waiting
take me away to nowhere plains
there is a wait so long
here comes your man
big shake on the box car moving
big shake to the land that's falling down
is a wind makes a palm stop blowing
a big, big stone fall and break my crown
there is a wait so long
you'll never wait so long
here comes your man
there is a wait so long
you'll never wait so long
here comes your man
Monday, November 22, 2004
My Two Cents
Since everyone else in the world has an opinion on the "Rumble in Auburn Hills" Friday night -- even my wife was looking at the Sports section this morning, for goodness' sake -- I'll throw in mine.
The penalties -- eh, they seemed about right. Artest's seemed a bit long, but he seems to be operating with at least "one strike," if not two (or more). Jackson's seemed a little short, since there wasn't even the pretense of being struck with a bottle for him charging into the stands. And O'Neal's... well, he hit a fan who came onto the court. 25 games seemed to me a little long for that.
No, the only thing that really motivates me, blogging-wise, is that I wish Stern had been even stronger in his condemnation of the fans at the game. If I was Commissioner, fans throwing something onto the court -- anything -- would be ejected. Immediately. Fans who go onto the court would have their ticket-buying privileges suspended for at least 30 games.
I know, I know, the realities of enforcing this rule would make it unenforceable in practice. (How would you identify the thrower of a snowball at a football game? How do you address celebrating court-rushes? What about Jack Nicholson?) And I have absolutely no idea how to walk the fine First Amendment line between supporting fans' free speech rights and the desire to let athletes retain some sort of dignity from vile insults.
But I gotta tell you, my last fear in going to sporting events is that athletes will come into the stands and beat the living crap out of me. My first fear (and it's not a large one) is that the drunken and/or obnoxious fan next to me will beat the living crap out of me.
The penalties -- eh, they seemed about right. Artest's seemed a bit long, but he seems to be operating with at least "one strike," if not two (or more). Jackson's seemed a little short, since there wasn't even the pretense of being struck with a bottle for him charging into the stands. And O'Neal's... well, he hit a fan who came onto the court. 25 games seemed to me a little long for that.
No, the only thing that really motivates me, blogging-wise, is that I wish Stern had been even stronger in his condemnation of the fans at the game. If I was Commissioner, fans throwing something onto the court -- anything -- would be ejected. Immediately. Fans who go onto the court would have their ticket-buying privileges suspended for at least 30 games.
I know, I know, the realities of enforcing this rule would make it unenforceable in practice. (How would you identify the thrower of a snowball at a football game? How do you address celebrating court-rushes? What about Jack Nicholson?) And I have absolutely no idea how to walk the fine First Amendment line between supporting fans' free speech rights and the desire to let athletes retain some sort of dignity from vile insults.
But I gotta tell you, my last fear in going to sporting events is that athletes will come into the stands and beat the living crap out of me. My first fear (and it's not a large one) is that the drunken and/or obnoxious fan next to me will beat the living crap out of me.
