Mike Piazza on Steroids, Humility, Forgiveness and Guilt

A good interview with Mike Piazza over at Beliefnet. You guys remember Piazza, right? Awesome times for the Mets? He was accused of being gay, and Belle & Sebastian wrote a song about him? Well, he's Catholic, and in this interview he sounds really, really reasonable.

And I think baseball's always been under a higher standard than football or other sports, as well. You're never going to make everybody happy on the issue. I think some people want to go back and dig up old bones, and try to form what they feel like is the truth. There's so much subjective information and innuendo and hearsay that I just think that the better thing to do [is] to realize that.

Realize that it is a complicated issue and cut out the innuendo and hearsay? Blasphemy! We must maintain a shallow front of moral purity, a position in which we can be constantly outraged! Like we are now! OUTRAGE!!!

On Barry Bonds:

People get very wrapped up into the record and what it would stand for and whatnot. There's just so much hype about it, and so much controversy and debate about it. I think it's kind of like with President Bush. He's very controversial now. But the true test, or the judge, of his legacy will be 15, 20 years down the line. It's almost impossible now to really form a true evaluation of the situation, because it's so incendiary.

Give it time? Wait to form an opinion? We know everything about everything as soon as it happens! We have a snarky comment for every occasion! There is no mystery! Immediacy! Imminence!

There's ongoing debate on our site about whether it's appropriate to pray for little things in life, like finding a parking space. Do you pray for victory in games, or for home runs?

No, I really don't. I learned a lesson. I read a great book on General George S. Patton Jr., which I thought was really interesting. Here was a vile, blood-and-guts type general who would stop at nothing to get victory on the battlefield... The reason why I bring this up is, someone asked him one time, "Do you pray for victory?" And he says, "No, I don't pray for victory. I pray for the Lord to help me do my best."

We find this very interesting. We had a discussion the other day about 2007 World Series of Poker Main Event winner Jerry Yang and his creepy, prattling little prayers during the hands. Our first inclination was to find such open prayer announcements garrulous and offensive. But the typical secular atheist response is: Why would God care about the outcome of a poker hand? and that misses the point of prayer entirely. So we ended up arguing that praying about such events is no different than anything else; one prays that God helps one in all things. Sure, he doesn't care about the outcome of a poker hand or a baseball came, but does care about people. That's why we found Yang and his family's prayers to win annoying and offensive. It's loathsome, showy and self-serving.

Baseball players from Latin America often cross themselves before an at-bat or point to the sky after reaching base. We partly want to say that this is a small and humble gesture, and partly that it turns religion into a light-hearted nothing. We're not sure.

I've always tried to live life that way. It's just, try to be as humble as possible. And to be humble means to live in the truth, as well. I believe St. Augustine said that. So humility is--especially in this day and age in the media--a very forgotten quality. It's almost non-existent. The media doesn't want humble people now. They want dysfunctional, loud, boisterous very obnoxious people. And you're seeing a lot of that.

That's what we meant to say about the pointing-to-the-sky. It doesn't seem humble; it seems boisterous and obnoxious. Tough to say. I mean, here's Bonds doing it. This is a very poignant observation from the former Mets catcher.

And as far as forgiveness, it does get intense. And there are people sometimes that try to hurt you or physically try to do things to you which aren't really sportsmanlike.

Roger Clemens.

Is there any pressure among major leaguers not to express one's faith?

Not so much in athletics. But, in society today, I think that there is an assault on faith. I think that there is an assault on people who are proud of their faith. And secular progressive people are a little bit more empowered as well. It's easy to pick on Christians, so to speak, in this day and age.

It's true.

It's frustrating to me when I hear these people who just don't want to feel guilt. I think that that's a really dangerous thing.

(fen)Way Rod? Shea Rod? Bay Rod? Stay Rod?

Did Scott Boras and his premier client pull an inexcusable stunt by announcing that A-Rod would opt out of his contract in the middle of the last game of the World Series?

No way, man. I know Peter Gammons is a die-hard Red Sox fan and this was really special for him, but the rest of the country outside the "Nation" was bored, and A-Rod's announcement was just the thing we needed. Sure, the Rockies almost came back, but they almost did a lot of things in the World Series and accomplished none of them. Scott Boras did just what he sought out to do.

After the game, Red Sox fans in Coors Field chanted, "Don't sign the best player in baseball! Re-sign an inferior player at the same position!"

We don't know how David Ortiz hit .332/.445/.621 this year (his best season ever) but fat guys who can barely play first base don't usually sustain that level of production for a long time. Manny Ramirez is still awesome, but on his way out as well. Mike Lowell isn't getting any younger, either. Pedroia and Ellbury are good, Red Sox fans, but they aren't enough. If you want to be the Yankees, you have to think like the Yankees. A-Rod is the best player, the Red Sox are the best team. Sorry, that's just how it works.

Meanwhile, the hoi poloi over at MetsBlog have voted: 48% don't want the best player in baseball. 38% do want him, and 15% are undecided.

Bob Klapisch wrote, Early indicators suggest the Mets are leaning toward a full metal jacket courtship of [Rodriguez], pending David Wright’s blessing. Indicators! He's got hits on A-Rod's DT Card coming from the Mets' IP!

"We can afford him," one Met insider said confidently. "It's going to be a baseball question more than a money question. Do we want him? Is he a good fit for one team? That's what we have to talk about."

We demand to know how much Scott Boras paid you, Bob! Insider? You mean Bott Scoras, Mets Assistant to the Special Director of Free Agent Player Scouting?

Cerrone doesn't know how to respond, except with his usual italics and ellipses:

…i keep looking at this through three sets of glasses… my fan glasses would enjoy the excitement of bringing on this tremendous player, who will break the home-run record in Citi Field, most likely retire with a Mets hat on his head, etc… at the same time, my baseball glasses realize that having the best player in the game on your team means nothing in terms of wins and losses in baseball...

So having the best player doesn't have anything to with wins and losses. We know what you're driving at-- a single player can't dominate like in basketball or football-- but, you know, there are ways to measure these things. According to the computers that the Mayans claimed were given to them by the gods and later buried only to be recovered by an archaeologist working for Vasco de Gama, who then sold it to a novelties dealer in Portugal, where it disappeared for centuries only to resurface at an auction in Thailand in 1997, where an antiques dealer bought it and sold it to the eggheads at Baseball Prospectus, Alex Rodriguez was worth 13.7 more wins than a replacement-level player in 2007. That's a lot. We'll guess liberally and say that the Mets got a WARP of 3.7 out of their second basemen in 2007. If A-Rod signs with the Mets and David Wright goes to second, that's ten more wins. Guaranteed. (WARNING: What we just said is kind of silly and besides, it's not guaranteed; they need to play the games {the right way} and heart and soul and moving the runner along and Dustin Pedroia.)

…i have advocated building the Mets around wright’s style…that being said, he’s not a great defensive third basemen…he’s good…not great…he can pick it with the best of them, but his arm leaves a lot to be desired…i believe he could handle second base, though he is a righty…he’d probably be best served at first…of course, any switch could also be a colossal disaster…

Aaaaaah!! Sentence... needs... to end... need... a... period. There.

Our understanding of defensive metrics is limited, admittedly, but when most of them agree about David Wright being an awesome defensive third baseman, we feel safe in proclaiming it as truth. From watching, we think his arm is strong, if a little inaccurate. He should be able to handle second base.

Nevermind. Let's go get Mo Vaughn.

Blog Watch: Tacoby Bellsbury

We feel that we are a spokesblog of sorts for the funny modifications to baseball player names blogging community. For that reason our interest was piqued (not peaked) when we heard the delightfully clever name Tacoby Bellsbury. We typed in "tacobybellsbury-dot-blogspot-dot-com," and sure enough: it exists.

You're on watch, Surly Blondbeard. This better be going somewhere. We've had our hearts broken by too many one-post wonders.

Rockies are Winners! and Other Things

Everyone will say. Because they went further than anyone expected, and they understandably lost to a much greater team. They'll be back. But will they?

The Rockies got lucky for a month, and then their luck ran out. Will they need luck to make the playoffs in 2008? Not really. They have excellent young position players in Matt Holliday, Brad Hawpe, Garrett Atkins and Troy Tulowitzki, a good but fast-declining (and ugly as hell) first baseman in Todd Helton, and four good young starting pitchers: Jeff Francis, Ubaldo Jimenez, Franklin Morales and Aaron Cook. Their bullpen is good too. Of course the Diamondbacks are even better, and the Padres are a well run organization, so it will be tough for the Rockies to repeat as NL Champions. The Giants and Dodgers? They're stuck in the dark ages.

Check out UmpBump.com for an argument about A-Rod and the Mets. Also, look for something soon from John Peterson over at MetsGeek about the Mets and A-Rod.

The Yankees, entering the King Lear era, are actually going to pay a manager a reasonable amount, instead of the ludicrous $7.5 million that Joe Torre earned in 2006 or the "insulting" $5-8 million that he would have made in 2008. But this new manager, who couldn't even stomach Jeffrey Loria, has to deal with both the New York media Leviathan and the meddlesome Yankees ownership. This won't end well. Read: George Steinbrenner roaming the wilds of Tampa Bay looking for Joe Torre in order to tell him, raspy and Anakin Skywalker-like, You were right, Joe. You were right about me.

We're happy that the Yankees are no longer Kings of the AL East. But we're not happy that the ascendant rulers are the Boston Red Sox. Sure, they're run by a really smart and likable management group, but their fans are somehow even more obnoxious than New York's. It looks like we won't be happy until the AL East goes to Tampa Bay- not the New York Yankees' Tampa Bay, but the other part. Where the Devil Rays play. The Rays, sorry.

Citi Field has bad Feng Shui. Judith Wendell (not a Chinese name, so we're immediately dismissing her so-called "expertise") claims that there will be a lot of "disturbed energy" at the new ballpark. No shit, Judith. This is the home of the Mets, after all. Not the "shrouded in tradition and the mystique of blah blah blah" in the Bronx. These are the Miserable Mets. Of course there's "disturbed energy." We wouldn't have it any other way.

The day she visited [Yankee Stadium], Wendell was accidentally sprayed by a passing water truck, but since water is usually a sign of abundance, "I took it as a good sign."

Let me be the first to laugh at you, Ms. Wendell. Laughter is a sign of derision, in this case. Shea's feral cats are laughing, too. They don't believe in "energy."

In other news, the Tigers continue their purge of all weirdly-named minor leaguers, trading Jair Jurrjens and Gorkys Hernandez to the Braves for Edgar Renteria. The Braves, meanwhile, aim to become the answer to that trivia question: There have been seven major leaguers in history from Curaçao. One team has had three of them. Who are they? (The other two are Andruw Jones and Randall Simon.) Jurrjens has a good chance of being the second best player ever from Curacao, as all the rest (besides Smirky McSmirkerson) were terrible.

Actually, we don't know. Baseball-Reference seems to have their country-of-origin stuff messed up with regard to Netherlands Antilles. Just to be clear, Curaçao is part of the Netherlands Antilles. Willemstad is the capital of Curaçao. The Mariners' (not for much longer, prob.) Wladimir Balentien is listed as being from Willemstad, Netherlands Antilles, but does not show up on a list of players from Curaçao. Jurrjens is from "Curacao, Netherlands Antilles," but doesn't appear on that list either (despite playing in the big leagues this year). We just don't know anymore.

Obligatory Paul Lo Duca Bashing: No matter what Paul Lo Duca says, he still sucks and we still don't want him back. Quoted in the New York Times:

One of the main reasons I want to come back is the fans. Especially with what I went through last year with all that stuff, the fans were always great to me. I love playing in front of these fans. That’s No. 1. No. 2 is that they have a corps that’s going to win for a long time. This is a team that’s always going to be in the thick of it every year. I want to be on a team that’s going to win.

But you have to ask yourself, Paul: Do I help the team win? And the answer is: No, I don't. I'm a selfish player who has long out-lasted his value, whose reputation is going to earn me a larger paycheck than I deserve. You want to play for the Mets 1) because, with Willie Randolph, you are entitled to your job no matter how much you suck, 2- you love New York City, because you like girls and gambling and all that, and 3- the Mets can pay you what you think you deserve. Somehow we doubt that you really care about winning.

Of course, MetsBlog is torn about Paulie, writing, I think his heart, pride and intensity is something this club should be built around. We couldn't disagree more. In fact, aside from his mediocre performance on the field, we feel that Lo Duca's self-focused "intensity" is bad for the team. Intensity is great when you're a star player, but when you're a crappy, over-the-hill, egomaniac veteran catcher, it's just annoying.

What he said.

Week 8: BETRAYAL: 13 Tales of Back-Stabbing, Advantage-Taking, Deceit, Deception, Lust, Lingerie, Blood and Blondes

By Writey Writer

Tale the First
CLEVELAND at St. Louis -3; or The People at the Top

"This is hardly a simple matter Karen! Parliamentary politics seldom are."

"But it's a decision in which I must be allowed to take part!"

"Karen, you well know—"

"Damn you Charles! Do you imagine you built the People's Progress out of simple earth?! Out of dust and will?! Do you forget so quickly who—"

"Karen, please." Charles rose from behind his desk and moved toward Karen, whose chest heaved in excitement and whose eyes were filled with fury and brimming tears.

"The people see you out there Charles. They see you behind the dais." Karen began to weep. "They don't see me behind you." Charles embraced her.

"Now darling. It is a different world we must conquer now. Our rise, your ideas, they were meteoric, they were fantastic. They stirred the heart in every breast across the country. But here, in the office, behind this desk, we address a different world altogether. A world whose boundaries are less brightly drawn. A world of compromise."

Karen pulled away with a look so forlorn, and yet ferocious, that Charles barely recognized her. "You are going to regret this Charles. The People. The People will see to it that you regret it."

As she stormed from the room, Charles looked the tapestry covering the north wall, opposite his desk. From behind it Mauricio asked the question Charles least wanted to answer.

"Cleveland or St. Louis?"

"I promised Karen… I promised her I would wager on Cleveland."

Charles continued to stare at the tapestry. It depicted a valiant struggle, his countrymen engaged in a fierce battle centuries ago. His countrymen, led by someone much like him, he imagined. Someone who could, with words, sway men to give their own lives or take the lives of others. Words, like dust. Out of nothing and ending in nothing. In death.

"St. Louis."

"And Karen?" Mauricio asked, the smile in his voice almost hidden behind the muffling cloth. Charles continued to stare. Then, without a word he rounded his desk and took his seat again. He looked once more at the tapestry and nodded.

Tale the Second
Detroit at CHICAGO -5; or, You Get What You Pay For

When is this fucking asshole going to answer his phone…. I swear to god when I get a hold—

"Hello?"

"Yeah, is this Chip?"

"Maybe, who's this?"

"This is Ryan. Remember me? You sold me a piece of shit on Craigslist."

"Hm, you'll have to be more specific, I sell lots of pieces of shit on Craigslist."

"Ha ha, asshole. The fucking radiator blew out. How about that?"

"You took it 'as is' pal. Not my fault if you didn't get it checked out."

"Well I got it checked out now. Looks like you managed to roll back the odometer? This engine has 130,000 miles on it, not 78,000. You're a fucking fraud."

"Listen, you done venting? You're mom's g-chatting me and she sounds drunk and horny. No way I'm passing this up."

"You're going to take this piece of shit back or I'm getting a lawyer."

"Try it! He'll read 'as is' and send your ass packing."

"Alright, try this: give me my money back, or I'll find where you live a crack your fucking head open, how about that? I gave you $6000 for a Detroit, and I ended up with a fucking Chicago. If you don't either give me a Detroit or give me my money back, there's gonna be hell to pay."

"Try me you rube. Just do me a favor and wait for me to get my [censored] out of your [censored]. Bu-bye now!"

Tale the Third
INDIANAPOLIS @ Carolina -7; or, Whole Lotta Love

Ahh… that was fantastic.

"That was fantastic."

"You know I was just thinking the same thing?" What's-her-name is rolling over, smiling at me like a goof. "You think I wasn't?"

"I dunno," she says, looking happy. Yeah, she means it, it was good. I was good.

"It's true. I have this rare ability, you see. People are always articulating my precise thoughts at the moment they occur. The problem is, most of the time they're somewhere else, next door, down the street, waging war in Baghdad. But it's a fact about me that I have no private thoughts. Either I'm saying them, or someone else is, always."

"You must think you're pretty special," she's trying to act huffy, but that's all it is, an act. Certain types of girls, specifically the type that sleep with me sober, love a narcissist.

"Special, yes. Blessed? No. You see the world's taken everything out of me. There's nothing left inside. I'm an empty shell."

"You mean you don't think you're original?" Jesus Christ, dumb too. Must be the type that sleep's with me sober.

"No retard, I'm intensely original. Almost purely original. The world just comes along and steals all my thoughts out of my head before I can say them. It's the rest of the world that's unoriginal, not me."

She doesn't like being called 'retard', which I deduce from the fact that she's rolling away. It's either that or the combination of that with my resurgent hard-on.

Once I got that taken care of I kindly took my leave, and made sure to leave her my ex-girlfriend's number, with a note saying 'Call me' with an exclamation point reminiscent of my cock. I thought that was a nice touch.

I never really feel bad about spreading my VD (it's Indianapolis-Simplex-A, if you're curious); I like to think of myself as a sort of broken conduit of all the good and bad things that have happened to me. The way the sunlight comes out muddy on the other side of a muddy glass; as through a glass, darkly.

Tale the Fourth
Oakland @ TENNESSEE -7½; or Amid the Broken Corn

It was cold and crystal clear. Crisp. Crackling. I was reminded of Ulalume: the leaves they were ashen and sober/ The leaves they were crisp and sere/ It was the month of October/ In my most immemorial year. Or something like that. That's Poe.

I was standing in a wide open field, throwing rocks at what I imagined were field mice running beneath the stalks, laid low after the harvest. This is home, or rather this was home, and now it feels very far away from where I'm from. I don't feel at all from there is what I mean. I mean, I don't now.

Who's that coming, I wonder. Someone was coming, I saw him in the distance, cutting a slow swath across the cracked and broken corn. The sky was screaming with silence and sharp sunlight. Sure it was. Certainly. Eggs were breaking over the frying pans in the 2000 or so kitchens in this town where I was born, and it was the only day those eggs could crack with that screaming light of the sun slanting through the windows. Which is just a long way of saying it was Sunday morning, the men were sleeping in, and I was back home.

Prison, it's like… well it's not like anything else. It defies comparison. Rather than say what it's like, it's probably better just to say what it is. To say what it is, sometimes it's best to say what it is not. Prison is not home. Prison is not close to these trees. Prison is not running beneath the bent stalks of the corn laid low; it's not the wheel or the mill or the country girls sloshing milk buckets, and its not uncle John baling hay at sundown three years ago. It's men, men like me, stacked up in cells like seed on shelves. It's fights, it's forever just looking at something that ain't even there anymore.

Who is that coming? Is he coming at me? What if it ain't a he at all? What if Shelley Tennessee (nee Oakland) is carving a burning path through the corn, rich and full, taller than uncle John, in August three years ago, tearing a burning streak in my mind three years and three months back, coming at me through the corn?

But the corn's not tall enough for that, and that light I told you about, that can't be the soft blood orange of sunset, and the years in between staring at nothing, those couldn't be there either. More likely it's John Tennessee, her once betrothed and now wed husband, leveling at me what's left of a murdering hate after the state took out that three year bite, and yes it is! Damned if it ain't.

Tale the Fifth
NEW ORLEANS @ San Francisco -3; or, Push on Three

(omitted)

Tale the Sixth
PHILADELPHIA @ Minnesota -1; or, From The First Age of the Sichions

Oruk, Leader of Tribes, Slayer of Deer, stood before the assembly, his face cast in long shadows by the roaring fire. Pachute, Son of Paruek, Swiftfoot approached Oruk, his stone dagger drawn, and spoke aloud:

"What has become of us? The men of the Sichions were once the most feared in all of Far Gallahand. Our larders were full, we had skins and full crops. Each year, as the ice melted, we planted in the earth and we discovered the bears sleeping. Our women's bellies were full and round; our young grew strong, as saplings become hard oak.

Now Oruk has ruled us for 40 moons. Each year as the light grows dim, so our crops grow thinner and thinner. Rain does not fall; the earth is parched. The birds have abandoned the sky; the fish lie limp atop the water and rot. When the harvest is collected, then there are great rains, and with them rot. The bears do not leave their caves; the deer do not grace our forest.

And what of us? The women are not full and round, they are not wet earth; they are barren rock. The young men are thin and sick. Disease fells men like trees. And now, I have learned that the Joariin plan to take our village."

A collective gasp arose from the assembly. Oruk stood fixed to his spot, his eyes a stone wall, defiant and glaring. Above his head rose the antlers fixed to his back with leather straps. In his hand his axe was tightly gripped. Pachute, once his closest ally, had disappeared behind the nearest trees, and was now emerging, leading behind him a bound and gagged man.

"I captured this scout, a man of the Joariin, this morning while I hunted in vain for the deer that will no longer come." The prisoner's eyes were wide with fear, and he looked about the men, sitting closely together on three felled trees surrounding the great fire in the center of the village. Pachute continued, "This man was reluctant to speak, but I persuaded him." With this he drew the man closer to the fire and lifted his right arm, beneath which were a series of crusted wounds. "And he told me that the Joariin, seeing our weakness, are eager to destroy us!" A clamor arose from the gathered men. Some stood. "That the Joariin see that Oruk is a weak leader, that he has brought with him disease and cannot make the women fertile any longer!!"

Pachute was shouting now, struggling to be heard amid the uproar. Now all the men were standing, pushing and separating and forming two groups. The smaller formed around Oruk, brandishing their weapons and shouting at the larger group, which advanced slowly under the shouted commands of Pachute.

"Oruk's seed is weak! Nothing grows! We are under attack because of him!!" Just as battle between the groups seemed eminent, the Great Horn sounded. All fell quiet, and Oruk's group parted and turned to hear him speak. Even Pachute fell silent, although he looked reassuringly to his supporters as he waited for Oruk's word.

"Disease is indeed upon us. And it is true that Pachute's parties have returned from the hunt with a look of greed and sickness in their eyes and burdens on their hearts, but without wild game." He paused, looking hard at Pachute and his men, the continued, "Other parties, my own, have killed many, but without Pachute's it is not enough, and the children grow sick." Oruk walked between his parted followers toward Pachute. Pachute's men moved to intercept him, but Pachute pushed them aside, and the two men stood face to face. Oruk spoke:

"I will not lead the Sichions to death. If Pachute will allow this man to speak, and if this man tells us what he has told Pachute, I will spill my blood and appease the angry gods." At this Pachute stepped away from Oruk and spat. He hesistated, glaring at Oruk and looking askance at his men, who looked nervously between each other and at Pachute. Finally Pachute walked over the prisoner and raised his knife to the gag, his back to Oruk. His knife still suspended at man's mouth, he looked over at Oruk and sneered.

"You may hear this man's story," Pachute said, "in hell!" And he plunged his stone dagger into the prisoner's throat. And before another man could move, Pachute's son, Philadelphia, swung his hammer into Oruk's head.

Tale the Seventh
PITTSBURGH @ Cincinnati -3½; The Man Doesn't Sleep

(omitted)

Tale the Eighth
Part 1
Buffalo @ NEW YORK JETS -3; Or, A House Divided

I had been so sure

Everything's Political

was political.

Up on 33rd street and the water. What am I doing here anyway? I'm resolved to throw it all away. This suit is sticky hot, I can't believe he came racing after me, ran after me for sixteen blocks before…. Before I don't know what. I think he was hit by a car crossing 40th. Fuck me if I know. I don't know anymore. I hope he's OK. But he's not going to stop me.

We've been working on this case for 47 months. Right now, in the small refrigerator in my office there's six bottles of champagne, one for me, one for him, one a piece for our associates, Roger and Paul and one each for the secretaries, Cheryll and Lauren. One happy family, trucking along. In two weeks we'll celebrate 4 years on the biggest case of our careers, which isn't saying a little, because in fact it's saying a lot.

He and I met up as associates at Hobbes, Machiavelli, Schmitt & Strauss. We were both hotshots at our respective 2nd tier law schools, him out there in Mizzou and me where I belong, which is a pit in New Jersey. I mean Seton Hall, of course.

It's not too easy to get from schools like ours to a white shoe New York firm like HMS&S. They called it Harvards, Masochists, Sadists and Sons-a-bitches, which I didn't think was all that clever, but every firm's got a moniker like that and we were no different.

When I walked in the door I planned on blowing the place to pieces. I've always had a chip on my shoulder, and it never shows like it does among people who think they're better than me. Around equals, I'm probably the nicest, humblest guy in the world. But once someone talks superciliously at me, something snaps. I've got to outdo it. I walk different, this silly arm-swinging, my-balls-are-too-big-to-fit-between-my-legs kind walk, head back. It'd be pathetic if it weren't so funny. But the fucked up thing is that it always works. The kind of cocksucker who talks down to people only understands one thing: and that's the raw fact of domination. If you're not dominated him, he's dominating you.

Some people think you can make friends like that, but that's all bullshit. Among the Harvard types there, the ones in the top of their class were generally pretty good people. But the prestige whores in the middle cut, who were sucking cock to get a job at HMS&S dropped such filth as "predigree" and snickered at Seton Hall. And I came right back at that, put their work to shame, did better work faster, laughed at their arguments, and swung my arms like a rooster stuck with bull balls.

And what did they do? The totally fucking rolled over. People like that, they don't care how good they are, or even who they are. They only care about one thing: where do I fit into it all? And the only way they can conceive of their place is as fixed relatively firmly between some superiors and some inferiors. And they break balls to figure out exactly where.

Anyway, it was utterly pathetic, I thought, even though I was really giving them what they wanted. I never picked on anyone nice, so I was well-liked, more or less, all the way around. And if this seems a lot like high school to you, it was.

Getting to know him was different. We seemed immediately uninterested in the challenge. He came off reserved, which didn't put me on edge, didn't make me want to put on the show. I treated him with respect, but I could tell he was sizing me up. We spent a six month stint together under Gerald Fish (the famous litigator, you know him) communicating in small gestures and meaningful looks. I doubt if we ever spoke during that time. Which is incredible if you think about it, working 70 hours a week on a super-high profile case, intensely sensitive, lots of ins and outs. And we did our work side by side, in the same office many times, into the late hours of the night, without a word.

And the product came off without a hitch. When the case wrapped up (quite favorably, I might add, at least for the partners owning an equity share), Gerald asked us both to stay on his team for another matter. This one involved Bill Williamson, aka Buffalo Bill. He'd gotten the nickname from his West Texas background and his superstar persona (both of which, it would turn out, were lies). He'd made his fortune in oil in the 1970's, and was interested in making out a will.

Needless to say, this isn't typical work for HMS&S; after all, who wants to pay an elite partner like Gerald Fish $1250 an hour to oversee the drafting a simple document any $250 an hour lawyer could do? Fish wasn't even in estate planning! But Fish had been in the news on the case we'd just settled, and like all the new rich Buffalo Bill just had to have the best of everything.

Or anyway that's what Fish told us when he asked us to stay on his team. In fact, he told us he wanted us to be his team, just the two of us.

"I'm going to be leaving the country. Costa Rica and Panama are in a border dispute, I've been asked to arbitrate."

"Border dispute?"

"Over sea territory."

"Isn't Buffalo Bill gonna be pissed off? He's paying your hourly, right?"

"I think he knows I'm not expert in drafting. He just wants to say I wrote the damn thing, he'll probably hang it on his wall and tell his old boys back home. Anyway he doesn't care what we're billing, he's worth 4 billion."

"Right."

"Just get it done quick, would ya?"

If it seems to you that refined and prestigious lawyers should speak more proper English, you're betraying your ignorance as a reader. Come to HMS&S for an hour and see how much proper English you hear between a partner and an associate discussing work, or a partner and a partner discussing money. You'll hear all kinds of things at a swank NYC law firm, I'm telling ya. Words like 'cunt', 'kike', 'motherfucker', 'stupid, 'fucking' and 'asshole' get tossed around like a beanbag in the sharing game. Remember kindergarten?

But the truth, about Fish, about Buffalo Bill; it wasn't at all what it initially seemed. After he and I broke off, almost four years ago on the nose, we talked about it a lot. Of course then we had Buffalo Bill, we had his side of the story. Which believe me we weren't apt to get from Fish, the man himself.

After he disappeared in Costa Rica we knew it was time to go. And like I said, after we got Buffalo Bill, it was really clear we had to go. We had to get out and cover ourselves in the process, and that quick. And we got alright, just when the getting was good.

JETS (to be continued…)

Tale the Ninth
Jacksonville @ TAMPA BAY -4; or, What is the World Coming to?

(omitted)

Tale the Tenth
Washington @ NEW ENGLAND -16½; or, I don't think I can do this anymore.

(omitted)

Tale the Eleventh
Green Bay @ DENVER -3; or, The Bitter and the Better

I walked into the apartment and saw them naked on the bed. I had two feelings right then that didn't make much sense together. First, I thought that it's good they'd just shot up, or they never would have let me sneak up on them this easily. Second, I thought maybe if she weren't shooting up now this never would have happened.

But there is a certain solace in knowing, isn't there? We all take our knocks, sure. But to be able to get your head around it. Never, really, all the way around it. But to feel like you know something. Even if you know you don't, on some level, all the way down on the bottom where it all drops off anyway. But up here, when your heart is in your throat and you've got some tears in your eyes and then down your cheek and sneaking into your mouth, burning like those terrible cankers on the point where the top and the bottom lip meet, right now knowing feels good. It feels like control, they way maybe it feels to grip the steering wheel and press the gas of a car already over the edge of the cliff. There's something to be said for it.

She started to stir after I'd been sitting there for a while, I'm not sure how long. Maybe she was still high, or maybe she was dreaming, or maybe she was sober and awake but right before that point where your mind marshals the available evidence (man naked next to me, rubber tube on the pillow, husband sitting at foot of bed) to come to an inescapable conclusion (I'm fucked).

If it was the latter; if she was seconds away from the realization, and I like to think the shame, of what she'd done; if her mind was about to reach out through the haze and find me, living and breathing and feeling this awesome terror inside for what I was about to do; then I'll never know.

"Hi honey. You're home early."

I'll never know because after she said this she never spoke again. A few weak coughs, gags and gargles and then goodnight. Goodnight Denver, it's undisputed (isn't it?) that I loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you until the moment you passed away, for some reason in the apartment we'd shared for years, next to a man the police would find naked, whacked out on smack, after receiving an anonymous call that there had been a fight here, oh my. I love you while they booked him and buried you. I love you now.

Tale the Twelfth
NEW YORK GIANTS @ Miami -10 (neutral site); Giant American Water Mammals in London

(omitted)

MIAMI

Tale the Thirteenth
Houston @ SAN DIEGO - ?; or, Wait and See

(omitted)

Don't ask questions. You'll only get hurt.

Conversation with a Front-Runner

Front-Runner: So it kind of looks like you'll owe me $20 more.
Me: Because the Red Sox barely won a second game?
Get real.
FR: They owned.
Papelbon is unhittable.
Me: Just stop. You're such a front-runner.
FR: I made a good bet.
I'm going to go out and buy a distressed Red Sox hate with the $20 I win.
Me: No you didn't. The Red Sox are going to lose with Dice-k.
Or any of the other games in Denver.
FR: Is there a game tonight?
Me: It's a terrible bet.
No.
FR: 4:1?
No way.
Me: So what do you think the real odds of a Red Sox sweep were?
2:1?
It's baseball- it's all fucking luck.
The Sox got very lucky to win yesterday.
FR: Well, except for Hegel's notion of spirit.
Me: Do you actually like rooting for the Red Sox?
Are you a Yankees' fan too?
FR: I look at 2007 and it looks like 2004.
Me: And a Cowboys' fan?
And you used to like the Chicago Bulls but now you're a Spurs fan.
You like the Patriots now, too.
FR: I like the Suns, Bulls (now), and Patriots.
I like the teams that are fun to watch.
(Which means I dont like any baseball teams)
LOL JK
Me: Haha, pretty funny.
Aren't you a Bills' fan?
FR: Yeah.
But I never ever get to see the games out here.
Me: But watching the RoX/SoX, you don't feel for the Rockies' at all?
FR: Everyone does well for themselves.
I don't know. The thing is, everyone will talk about and care about the Red Sox; but if the Rockies win, no one will be talking about it after 1 week: So it's better for baseball if the Red Sox win.
Me: Huh.
YOU LIVE IN NEW MEXICO!
You live in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains!
FR: Ok. Well I see that.
But I bet against them.
Me: Ha. You're unbelievable. If the Rockies win Game 3, will you root for them after that?
FR: I might be mad at them; but yeah I will.

On FOX's Coverage of Baseball

We can't imagine any intelligent person who is not a baseball fan suddenly taking interest in post-season baseball and getting more and more thrilled as he listens to Joe Buck and Tim McCarver.

We're not talking about their tendency to "state the obvious," or their general ignorance of the non-meaningfulness of small statistical samples, or any of that.

We could forgive their old-timey baseball goodness if it were just that- old-timey and good. But it's not. Instead we hear short grunts of words, half-screamed, and everything coated with smarmy baseball-religion sentimentality.

THE 2-2! ...Long pause as we watch the pitcher set, wind, and deliver. The batter takes a looping curveball low-and-away. Three and two.

Pedroia! Deep left! And that... it's gone!

It's just... much like Dane Cook... vulgar.

Where are the long, beautiful descriptions? The drama, appropriate to the time and place?

The opening montage to FOX's World Series coverage went far beyond the usual where heroes are born and legends are made stuff. They mentioned Homer's Odyssey. It didn't get us excited; it made us embarrassed to be watching.

Again, you want to move the runner over it this situation. If he brings one thing to the table (speaking really profoundly now), it's that he plays the game the right way.

No shit.

Assembling the 2008 Mets, Part Three: Outside Position Players, Section B: Infielders

Of course, by "infielders" we mean second base, as David Wright, Jose Reyes and Carlos Delgado are in place at the other positions. The Mets have a total of five second base options, four of whom are free agents: Luis Castillo, Jose Valentin, Damion Easley, Marlon Anderson and Ruben Gotay. Only Gotay is under the Mets' control.

Of the others, we've already said a lot. Castillo and Valentin are old and creaky- if they can net the Mets some draft picks, they'll have done enough for this organization. Anderson and Easley are what we call veteran bench players. Both can play both the infield and the outfield enough to get some garbage time there, and together they provide an effective pinch-hitting platoon; Anderson has a career 62-point OPS advantage vs. righties, while Easley has hit 53 points better vs. lefties in his career. Last year, however, Easley hit .371/.446/.596 vs. left-handers with six home runs in 101 plate appearances. Marlon had a similarly large split vs. right-handers. If the Mets could keep just one of these guys, we would say Easley is the better option, if only because he has more power and Wille Randolph doesn't have an undue infatuation with him. Another consideration is that Easley will be 38 and Anderson only 34. Also, Easley had a pretty bad injury this year. Here's what RotoWire has to say:

Easley, who tore multiple knee ligaments, expects to be running by November and be ready for spring training somewhere - he believes he will be in Port St. Lucie with the Mets, the NY Daily News reports. "In the back of my mind I think I will be, but I don't know that for sure," Easley said about returning to the team in '08.

So, the only needs the Mets might have for infielders from outside the organization are at second base and on the bench. We've already said that we support using Gotay as the regular. However, he has his faults. First, we know that he's got above-average gap power for a second baseman, but his sustainability and patience as a hitter remain unknowns- it's likely that he would hit as bad as .260/.300/.380. Since the Mets didn't give him a chance, we just don't know. Second, even with a fly-ball pitching staff infield defense is important, and Gotay isn't the sparkling defender we would like.

Free agents not coming from the Mets include Tadahito Iguchi, Mark Loretta, Marcus Giles and Kaz Matsui. We'll go out on a limb and declare that the Mets won't bring back Matsui. Iguchi is an attractive option when one considers his 18 home runs in 2006. But at 33 he's already going downhill as a player- the Mets would be smart to pass on him if only because of their terrible history with Japanese players.

The Padres have a $4 million option on 30-year old Marcus Giles, whose impressive 2003-2005 seasons with the Braves only made his 2006-07 seasons look that much worse. Some have suggested that steroids were behind his 140, 112, 112 OPS+ seasons, while others attribute his early success to luck. Giles still draws walks and plays good defense, but if anyone thinks he'll be able to recover that .316/.390/.526, 21 HR production of 2003, he'll probably be disappointed.

Mark Loretta will be 36, and there's nothing he really offers to outshine the competition, besides experience. He's a patient hitter and an adequate defender, but he doesn't have much left at this point.

All in all, none of these guys (including Castillo, Valentin, Easley and Anderson) are significantly better than Gotay, and Ruben has the added advantages of being young, cheap, and possibly better than we think he is. But are the Mets going to sign another over-30 free agent? Probably.

Of course, there are trades, too.

OK, we've been unable to work on this for about a week, so we're just going to put it out there. Also, read this. And look for work of ours on MetsGeek tomorrow.

ROX and SOX on FOX

We were rooting for the Indians, but we have to admit that we were glad to see them lose. No, it wasn't the sight of Theo Epstein aflush and joyous. It wasn't the grisly Papelbon creepily summoning Varitek to the mound. It wasn't the thought that the Red Sox are lovable losers who deserve to win it all, either. Because they aren't, and they don't.

An Indians fan friend of ours, fresh with the bitterness of the evening, quipped, "What's the difference between Red Sox fans and Yankees fans? Yankees fans know that everyone hates them." No, these Red Sox already have their championship; they can no longer play that part. This year they played the part of the Evil Empire, crushing the pathetic little Rebellion.

We tried to console him by telling him that there are only shiny, happy things to come from the Indians' organization. That there is not one bad contract on the entire roster. That the farm system is stocked, the major league talent is all young and cheap, and the front office management is the absolute best in the game.

Nobody ever heard of Neil Huntington before he left the Indians and signed on with the Pirates to be their GM (and now he's uprooting the entire system, changing everything). Chris Antonetti, the Indians' Assistant GM, could have almost any open front office position in baseball.

What the Indians are doing in Cleveland is creating a sustainable base of talent that will put them in a position to win their division every single year for the foreseeable future. We're not glad they lost, but we're pretty confident that they'll be back, soon and often.

No, we're glad because we know, between Boston and Colorado, that all right-thinking neutral fans will be rooting for the Rockies. Between Cleveland and Denver, Cleveland would have been the smaller market. And those Rockies aren't that compelling, anyway. What a total bore-fest that would have been.

Now, all of a sudden, we feel some pride about our home in the Sangre de Cristo mountains, and we want some fucking Red Sox blood, now.

We haven't read the series preview posts yet, but we already know what we'll see: This is more like an exhibition than a professional contest. OK, no one will sound that dorky. Red Sox in 5. Red Sox in 4. They'll say that the Red Sox are superior in every aspect of the game, that the Rockies are about as good as say, the Twins, that the series is a joke and all that. And they'll be right.

Except the joke's on the Sox.

Did your forget that the Rockies have won 21 out of their last 22 games?

Rockies in 4.

Reversals of Fortune: A Dialogue Wherein the Search for a Principled Manner of Picking NFL Point Spreads is Sought

by Writey Writer

Arizona @ WASHINGTON -8
Initial pick: Arizona

Me: The dentist; tell me about it.
I: Not much to tell. I went there, I sat in the chair. When I open my mouth wide my jaw clicks, it's embarrassing.
M: Does it bother your boyfriend?
I: The dentist said it might be caused by grinding my teeth.
M: You have been grinding your teeth a lot. This worries me.
I: I've been under a lot of pressure.
M: So. The dentist. Did you have any cavities?
I: No.
M: Have you been experiencing pain?
I: No.
M: Then why the dentist? This new obsession with grooming alarms me.
I: Me too. And it really bothers Marcy. You should see her when I begin clipping and filing my nails. We'll be sitting, watching the same television, and I'll start scraping underneath my nails, clipping them. You should see her. She sits there fuming; she's almost furious. Later, as if to get revenge, she begins cleaning and clipping her own nails.
M: It's out of character for you.
I: I suppose you're right.
M: Tell me about this pick.
I: Well, I know Arizona has some question marks at quarterback, but this seems completely bonkers to me.
M: Why are you reversing it?
I: Because I'm wrong.
M: Why are you wrong?
I: I don't know.

Final pick: Washington

Atlanta @ NEW ORLEANS -8½
Initial pick: Atlanta

I: Where are you in the job search?
M: I have it narrowed to two firms.
I: What are your criteria of decision? What I mean is, how will you make a principled choice between them? A choice that emanates directly from who you imagine yourself to be?
M: I don't know. My entire life I've been unable to make principled, self-consistent decisions about important things in my life.
I: I know. Why Atlanta?
M: New Orleans isn't that good.
I: So why chango-presto it?
M: Chango-presto proceeds on the imminently plausible assumption that all of my instincts are wrong; so far the assumption has proved out.
I: Aren't you worried that you knew, when stating your instincts, that they would be reversed? Isn't it possible that your foreknowledge changed the instincts themselves?
M: I tried to be principled in stating my initial picks, but as we've conceded, principled decision-making is not a strength.

Final pick: New Orleans

BALTIMORE @ Buffalo -3
Initial pick: Baltimore

M: You've been hitting it pretty hard this week.
I: Is that news?
M: Maybe. How do you feel about it?
I: Hungover.
M: Why Baltimore?
I: Because they are much better than Buffalo. I find it almost impossible to imagine that Baltimore would lose this game. If they won't lose, then they'll cover.
M: Unless they push.
I: Push…
M: Chango-presto dictates that you are precisely wrong, and must chose Buffalo to cover.
I: Your extreme reading of the method makes it impossible for me to ever pick a push.
M: Fine, ruin your health. See if I care.

Final pick: PUSH
[Editor's Note: In this picks pool, correctly predicting a push results in five "wins."]

Minnesota @ DALLAS -9½
Initial pick: Minnesota

M: Here more than anywhere else, it seems like your foreknowledge of chango-technology influenced your instincts. You desperately want to have Dallas here.
I: But this case-by-case approach is remarkably dangerous. I believe I must state my instincts quickly and at once, and then change them completely.
M: This is going to hurt.

Final pick: Dallas

NEW ENGLAND @ Miami -17
Initial pick: New England

M: Let's change the rules. New England and Cincinnati are exempt from chango-presto. Still, they are subject to a hard and fast rule: NE always covers, until they don't; Cincinnati never covers.
I: Deal.

Final pick: New England

San Francisco @ NEW YORK GIANTS -9½
Initial pick: San Francisco

I: Tell me about television.
M: It's a menace.
I: What shows do you watch?
M: 24, House, Damages, Mad Men, Lost, Family Guy, Simpsons, South Park, Daily Show, Colbert Report. Maybe more. More on DVD.
I: That's really pathetic isn't it?
M: I always used to imagine myself as someone who was unhooked from television. I'd lie to myself and say things like, I only watch sports and House MD. But that's no longer true. I've had to give up reading to make time for all the damn television.
I: This brings back the booze issue; it's much easier to watch drunk than to read drunk.
M: What an awful thing to say, but you're probably right. Also there's this illusion Marcy and I share, that watching TV is something we do together, which isn't altogether untrue. We speak to each other during the shows, pointing out subtle nuance, laughing at absurd dialogue, chastising ourselves for our slavish adherence to outlandish characters and plots. There's something charming at being infantilized by a plastic box.
I: So you've managed to gain some po-mo distance on the whole degradation?
M: Distance is a crucial crutch for my continual degradation, but I wouldn't cabin it to po-mo irony. Doubtless it plays a large part, like when I'm watching Rock of Love, or The Girls Next Door. But for the more profound degenerations I rely on a different distance altogether.
I: Before we get into that, tell me about the San Fran pick?
M: I'm such an awful gambler, I still imagine that they have a powerful offense and an up 'n coming defense. I can't shake the feeling that 9.5 is WAY to much to give Eli Manning. He could have locked up last week's cover half way through the game before he threw 2 picks and fumbled. I refused to take a 10 point win with such a bumbler.
I: So you're upset about presto-bitching this pick?
M: Definitely.
I: That's a good sign.

Final pick: Giants

Tampa Bay @ DETROIT -2
Initial pick: Tampa Bay

M: I'm interested in this distance you refer to. But before we get back to that, Marcy tells me you've been losing weight. Care to comment?
I: I've always imagined myself to be tall and gaunt, with a sunken face, a powerful jaw and mysterious good looks. I continually misinterpret her accusations of thinness as compliments.
M: You are tall, but a lot of it is your giant melon head, which is disproportionately larger than your body. With a normal sized head, you'd be 5'9''.
I: You cuts. You cuts deep.
M: That said, head size correlates to brain size, which correlates to intelligence.
I: That has always been a comforting fact to me.
M: How does your penetrating intelligence figure Tampa Bay here?
I: They've looked good, what can I say? I mean, besides getting pantsed by Indy, but that's only to be expected.
M: I think you secretly wanted Detroit here all along. They're at home, and all they have to do is win. This points again to a flaw in your method.
I: "They say I have 'unsound methods.' Tell me, do you find my methods 'unsound'?"
M: "No sir. In fact, I don't see here any method, at all."

Final pick: Detroit

TENNESSEE @ Houston -1½
Initial pick: Tennessee

M: What do you mean when you say that a certain distance allows your continual putrefaction as a human being?
I: It's hard to describe. One sense of what I mean is this: every since I was very young, at times a sort of abstraction would overcome me. Spatial, temporal and logical relations would sort of… fade. Which isn't to say they disappeared altogether, just that they receded into the background.
M: Like the state between waking and dream, a disorientation of sorts?I: Yes, like that, but not exactly. That waking disorder you speak of, it typically causes a panic, you cast about for familiarity, wonder where you are. Like having a bad acid trip, it's frightening. What I'm talking about is different; there's no fear, precisely. Only a certain quietude. Everything sort of loses its significance. You'll be looking at your mother and not see your mother, but a sort of machine; there's no affection, no recognition, no nostalgia. Just an organism, oddly shaped, freed of the super-imposed form of 'human' or the associational form of 'mother.' This feeling is extremely cold. Space between objects no longer seems small or large; it seems infinite, all sense of relation is lost.
M: I'm reminded of Kant; you seem to describe a state before the superimposition of the human form of cognition; or Leibniz's ideal world.
I: Except without the god there to back it up.
M: And you say this doesn't cause you fear?
I: Fear is the wrong word. It fills me with a sort of moral terror, a dread.
M: What you're describing is merely existentialist ennui; Sartre did a far better job in Nausea.
I: You're largely right; but the effect it has on me is odd. For instance, I'll be sitting on the shitter, worried about school or work or Marcy or friends, and then it'll descend. And I don't feel bad; I just cease to feel.
M: And this lack of feeling, it allows you to deal with your reservations about the course of your life?
I: Yes, that's just my point. And I can't help it; I've never been able to be particularly upset about anything in my entire life. Or at least after a certain point.
M: Sounds like a blessing and a curse. Let's talk about this pick, and maybe later we can get back to the moral implications of your philosophically founded anti-social disorder.
I: I took Tennessee here because after starting out hot, Houston has been utter garbage. The injury report on Young isn't in yet, but I'd wager they put him in there and tell him not to run around too much. They have no other choice! If he's in there, they win this game in a walk.
M: You seem assured. This is a good sign for reversal.

Final pick: Houston

Kansas City @ OAKLAND -2½
Initial pick: Oakland

I: Don't you have more important things to be doing right now?
M: What could be more important than this?
I: That's a tricky question given your world view.
M: True, in the cosmic sense adduced above, nothing can more important than anything else. Indeed, nothing can be more anything than anything else, since relation is an illusion.
I: So are other products supplied by the necessities of human cognition, like the freedom of the will, also illusory?
M: Here it becomes crucial to differentiate the cosmic sense of the universe, and the human sense.
I: I doubt your distinction is tenable.
M: Be that as it may, no one can act in the universe I've described; whether it's illusory or not, we necessarily develop a theory of action for ourselves.
I: The real problem then seems to be that the theory is continually undermined by acknowledging the larger picture.
M: Maybe the solution is to cast off the larger picture altogether. Maybe then a principled theory of moral action will be possible for me, not continually cast into shambles whenever I conveniently succumb to the realization of VOID.
I: There are two explanations for why casting this picture aside is impossible for you: either you are too smart, or you are too morally weak; that is, you like being able to do whatever you want, living on a whim, feeling no moral anxiety, and you adduce this true picture not to justify your reprehensible actions, but to remove the need for justification in the first place.
M: Unfortunately for me, I am usually skeptical about arguments that run along the lines of 'everyone else is stupid and I am smart.'
I: But given your progressive politics, aren't you committed to that position?
M: What progressive politics?
I: Let's not get into politics right now. You picked Oakland; why?
M: I don't know. Frankly I'm a little flustered. You are a challenging conversationalist.
I: We'll assume your instincts guided you, and reverse with no reservations.

Final Pick: Kansas City

New York Jets @ CINCINNATI -6
Initial pick: Jets

M: Square this for me: you often take extremely hard positions on things in your life. For instance, you once quit a job you'd held for 2 years because the boss had made some comment outside your presence about your work ethic. You huffily quit without giving an explanation. Another example, when Jake and others expressed moral outrage toward you, you took an extremely hard line position against them. What I mean is, you refuse to admit compromise. This is true also in a positive sense: your work ethic at school, your rock and roll ability to out drink everybody (most of the time). How does this fit in with the analysis you've provided above?
I: It seems to me to be the other side of the same coin. Faced with VOID, you can either give up, something I used to do a great deal in my drug-addled youth, and bitch and moan like a good existentialist teen. Or, you can take the opposite tack, and blindly insist on creating meaning where none existed before.
M: I picture a man on a beach building a sand castle. He's smart enough to know the tide will come in and destroy it. What does he do? Lay on the beach? Or does he build a castle? Laying on the beach, he'll probably become bored, although he sees some other people who do just that and rot and die as they lay.

Other people don't realize that having come once, the tide will continue to come. So they strive and they strive, building turrets and minarets and flying buttresses, and when their work is washed away, they despair and claw out their own eyes.

Other people have wised up, and build only modest castles, knowing the work is going to be reduced to nothing. Investing little, they suffer little.

But other people, also wised up, build just as furiously as the ignorant. They succeed in temporarily blocking out the realization of the wave to come and they build and they build. When the wave comes, however, it brings with it the suppressed realization, and at the very moment of destruction the builder is relieved to be without it.

I: That's an interesting example.
M: If it's accurate, am I right to suggest that you don't fear death?
I: That would be going too far. My mind is inextricably linked to my body, which desperately wants to live. But tell me I have to die tomorrow, and I wonder how upset I'd really be.
M: This sounds like a convenient excuse for hard living.
I: Doesn't it though? Remember, no reversal of an anti-Cincy pick.

Final pick: Jets

Chicago @ PHILADELPHIA -5
Initial pick: Philly

I: This has all been very illuminating, and I'd like to thank you.
M: You're welcome.
I: What do you say we wrap up these reversals of fortune?
M: Let's. I took Philly here because Chicago is in total disarray, and Philly can put up serious points. Sometimes.
I: Sounds plausible.

Final pick: Chicago

St. Louis @ SEATTLE -8½
Initial pick: Seattle

M: When you made this, had you read that Bulger was returning to the line-up?
I: I can't remember.
M: How convenient. If you knew, then you wanted St. Louis all along.
I: We're right back to what's become the over-arching theme of this discussion; how does one made a principled decision, consistent with one's decision of who one wants to be?
M: It's a quandary we haven't solved here.

Final pick: St. Louis

PITTSBURGH @ Denver -3½
Initial pick: Pittsburgh

M: I'd say it really implicates the freedom of the will in a more profound sense than we've acknowledged; if the best we can establish is that people, while perhaps not determined to act as they do, act as they do on the basis of largely random or unprincipled decisions, freedom of the will hasn't gotten us anything of much worth, has it?
I: No, it hasn't. But while my case might show that principled decision making in front of VOID is difficult, it has not shown it to be impossible in every case. Perhaps greater moral fortitude would allow someone to permanently eradicate the vision.
M: But as the sand castle example indicates, those ignorant of the wave suffer profoundly when their work is demolished. The worst part about this suffering is that it is unaccompanied by understanding. It lacks what Boethius called the Consolations of Philosophy. If man is to be any different than an animal, any more blessed or favored, it must not be subject to the same raw, unmitigated animal suffering.
I: Then perhaps man isn't blessed, as he is forced to choose between a principled, consistent, moral existence and beastly suffering, or a philosophical mitigation of pain and a sense of directionlessness in VOID.
M: That's heavy. I'm sure we're neglecting something crucial.
I: Don't say god.
M: Why not?
I: Because if his number one recommendation is solving a cruel and heart-wrenching dilemma we'd otherwise have to face squarely, I'm not interested.
M: There may be other things.
I: I've never seen or felt them, and I've looked behind the world, right where's he's supposed to be.
M: I'm not qualified to convince you, but I can warn you against certainty.
I: Much like this Pittsburgh pick, which I'm certain is right.

Final pick: Denver

INDIANAPOLIS @ Jacksonville -3
Initial pick: Jacksonville

I: We've reached the end. I'd like to thank you again.
M: No, thank you. I've learned a lot.
I: This pick is by far the most transparent perversion of the statement of your pick-instincts. You've wanted Indy in this game from the moment you laid eyes on the line.
M: I've stacked the deck in my own favor then, haven't I?
I: You are going to pay for your inequities.

Final pick: Indy

[Editor's Note: We hope you enjoyed this brief non-baseball post, contributed by a friend. Coming soon: Assembling the 2008 Mets, Part Three: Outside Position Players, Section B: Infielders]

Green Knows It's His Fault

From Marty Noble of MLB.com:

It wasn't easy to look people in the eye," he said. "We let everyone down -- the fans, the staff, people who would have profited from our being in it. ... You feel so good as a player when you make people happy. We thought we were going to, we were going to bring people so much joy. We made people happy last year, just getting in for the first time in a long time. They expected more this year, so did we.

You know, Shawn, maybe-just maybe- if you weren't on this team, this wouldn't have happened. You know, because Lastings Milledge is a better player than you? From Noble:

He has no read on the Mets' plans. He hardly is opposed to returning. He has enjoyed his year and five weeks in their employ. And with neither Lastings Milledge nor Carlos Gomez ready for regular big league duty and Moises Alou seemingly an injury risk, the Mets seemingly will need an outfielder -- a left-handed-hitting one? -- unless they do the unlikely and plan to use Endy Chavez in a more regular role.

Oh right, Lastings is not ready for big league duty. We forgot about that. He needs a few more years backing up aging former-stars with bad bats and bad gloves. He needs another 1000 plate appearances of destroying AAA pitching.

Yes, Marty Noble is here implying that the Mets start 2008 with this outfield: Moises Alou, Carlos Beltran and Shawn Green. Presumably- if Endy Chavez isn't going to play every day, which some inexplicably think of as an option- the Mets need more of what Shawn Green has to offer!

Whether Green is that left-handed-hitting outfielder remains an unknown. It seemed like a foregone conclusion during the season that the club would move on without him. His September surge -- he batted .407 in 59 at-bats -- may have come too late to change the club's thinking.

Oh my god! .407 in 59 at bats! He's back! 49 home runs, here we come!

Of course MetsBlog would "welcome him back." That's hardly a surprise. ...the unofficial italicized grammatically-challenged PR arm of the New York Mets welcome's any choice our Great Leaders make...

You know what? Fine! Bring back Shawn Green. Bring back Paul Lo Duca. Bring back Luis Castillo. We've already retained Willie Randolph. Let's just do 2007 all over again!

Update: I think 2006 was kind of his fault, too, mitigated in the same way by the fact that he wasn't making the veteran-favoring personnel decisions.

Mets Get B- Ranking as Organization

If you're a fan of this blog but still don't read U.S.S. Mariner, we're here to tell that you should. Regularly.

"But why should I care about the Mariners?" you ask. "They're in the American League- the AL West, even- way up there in Seattle!" But it's not really about the Mariners, when one gets to the core of the blog; it's about baseball management.

In a recent, tear-jerking post, Dave Cameron (not the guy in the picture) told the story of how each Championship Series general manager is related:

Theo Epstein is 33 years old. Josh Byrnes is 37 years old. Mark Shapiro is 39 years old. Dan O’Dowd is the old man in the room, coming in at 47 years old. All of them are running the team that gave them their first chance to be a general manager. None of them played an inning of major league baseball. And they all came from the same tree.

"The Seeds of Success" will give you the rightful impression that baseball is moving into a glorious new age of sensible, analytical management, and your team might be left in the dust:

These are the organizations who won’t settle for time honored traditions. They won’t settle for doing things the way they’ve always been done. They question conventional wisdom and they look for empirical answers. They hire the smartest people they can find and let experience take a back seat to talent... And they win baseball games.

This blog post led to a subsequent mention of organizational familiarity and commonality on ESPN. On U.S.S. Mariner itself, it led to a challenge to rank every organization in baseball, which Dave promptly provided.

Cleveland, no surprise, is the only organization to receive an A+. Boston and Tampa Bay are the only other teams to get As; San Francisco, Cincinnati, Houston and Baltimore all received the worst grade. The Mets got a B-, along with Atlanta and Arizona.

We think the B- ranking is a little generous. The organization is so extremely prone to reacting to a vitriolic press that it will trade away its farm system and hire expensive, over-the-hill free agents in order to appease them. Also, it doesn't seem like they value advanced statistical analysis.

They may get a boost because Omar Minaya is perceived as a shrewd identifier of talent, but really he has just run hot in his minor acquisitions. The 2006/07 off-season showed that it was just luck, really.

Atlanta and Arizona aren't exactly statistical mavens either (the latter more so than the former, we suppose), but those organizations make up for it with a commitment to internal development that the Mets just don't have. We would at least move them down to a C+.

We're taking this opportunity to revisit the 2005/06 off-season, when the Mets had just made a huge improvement, seemingly bent on turning themselves into the Marlins. It worked; however, they forgot about what's supposed to come after, and by the end of 2007 still had Delgado, Lo Duca, Luis Castillo, Jeff Conine, Guillermo Mota, Jason Vargas and Adam Bostick in the organization.

That off-season the Mets were preparing to launch SNY, and so they brought in Billy Wagner, Carlos Delgado and Paul Lo Duca. Here is what Baseball Prospectus had to say about some of these moves. Of Wagner:

The Mets outbid the Phils with a hefty four-year $43 million offer in November; that's a lot of money to guarantee any reliever unless you're starting your own regional sports network. Oh wait...

Wagner has been great. No complaints. On Delgado:

We can speculate on two potential problems: First, Delgado's defense is scary bad and it's not likely to get any better. Second, he's signed through 2008 with a club option for 2009. Many of his PECOTA comps are guys like [Greg] Luzinski and [Boog] Powell, players whose careers didn't have big second acts or soft landings. It could be that the Mets will be back in the first base hunt sooner than they think.

It's scary how right-on these guys can be. However, after a superb 2006 season BP was bullish on Delgado, with no mention of regression in sight. 2007 was not good to Carlos, but a strong second half is a good sign going forward. It was worth it to add Delgado to the equation just for '06; taking on these whale contracts is what a team with the Mets' organizational philosophy does. Delgado is no Mo Vaughn, but he will be a liability next season.

On Paul Lo Duca, BP was not friendly, nor should they have been. Their prescience as to New York's feelings for Paulie goes to show that they are a group with an understanding that goes beyond statistical analysis and projection:

Here's a Frank Loesser/Hoagy Carmichael tune going out to all of the L.A. writers from the gang at BP: "Heart and soul, I fell in love with you... Heart and soul, the way a fool would do, madly, because you held me tight... and stole a kiss in the night..." The erstwhile heart, soul, and solar plexus of the Dodgers, for whom sun coast scribes still nurse giant, unfulfilled man-crushes, turns out to be a run-of-the-mill ballplayer when it comes to doing things like hitting and fielding, only the main parts of a ballplayer's job. Leadership doesn't compensate for shortcomings in those departments, no matter how much willfully naive romantics would like to believe otherwise. Traded to the Mets, he'll be the scrappy, popular esophagus of the club, and he may even pick up a home run or two he lost to Dolphins Stadium, but not many more than that. Signed through 2007; he won't be a Met past that point.

Sorry for ripping off the whole thing, BP, but it's just to damn good to pare down. But wait a minute, you say, Lo Duca was great in 2006 for the Metsies: .318/.355/.428, good for a catcher, plus all those ingtangibles! Well any thinking fan could see that Lo Duca's numbers were inflated by two things: an unusually high BABIP, and batting second in the Mets' fine lineup. Even though he regressed, naturally, in 2007, many Mets fans still clamor to bring him back. "He's the only one with any real heart on this team!" "Maybe if Willie would leave him in the 2-hole he would do better!" Etc. And I bet the Dodgers really miss him, too.

The Mets would have picked up Luis Castillo, as well, if he would have signed with them and not the Twins. So they had to wait a year and a half to get him, letting those knees age a little bit first. Here's what BP had to say about him way back then:

Castillo has always had a better stroke from the right side, and the difference is great enough that even at his age it might be worth seeing what would happen if he just chucked the whole switch-hitting act and batted righty full-time... Though leg problms have robbed Castillo of some of his baserunning élan, Castillo's glove and selectivity will be a revelation to the Twins...

Of course, Castillo hasn't switched to batting right-handed exclusively; in fact, on the Mets he was used pretty much all the time, regardless of the handedness of the pitcher. In addition, since signing with the Twins, Luis' patience, speed and defense have all diminished.

Instead the Mets got another switch-hitting second baseman, Jose Valentin. Like Castillo, "Stache" is a rare switch-hitter with a massive platoon split. Luis sucks at batting left-handed, José is a miserable right-handed batter. Valentin is so bad, in fact, that The Book lists him as the switch-hitter with the worst platoon split in all of baseball in the years of their dataset (2002-2004). Of course, this is just a curiosity; Stache was a revelation in 2006. (BP: Signed to a one-year deal with the Mets, where he'll join Julio Franco to form the Gray Latin Fire Brigade.) But the contract that came afterwards was ridiculous.

Here's what BP had to say about some other guys the Mets picked up or would soon acquire. On Endy Chavez: Chavez is a pathetically bad hitter whose sole value is as a defensive replacement and pinch runner. Non-tendered, he signed with the tools-happy Mets in December. (Despite everything, Mets fans, all of this is still true.) On Guillermo Mota: It's unlikely that he will ever approach the Superman numbers of his Dodgers years, but if health permits he might do some league-average relief work.

Adam Bostick: ...still a very intriguing prospect...
Jason Vargas: Vargas is among the reasons that Marlins fans.. can still be excited to go to the park.
Ruben Gotay: It's hard to argue that Gotay was rushed... The Royals publicly admitted that Gotay's confidence was shot... Gotay's defense isn't very good, but it's also not nearly as bad as the Royals would have you believe.
Oliver Perez: Perez also needs to work on his maturity... keep in mind that Perez is still only 24 and has 571 strikeouts in 515.2 career innings.
Jorge Sosa: In short, bet heavily on a regression in 2006, but hope that working with a real pitching coach taught him a thing or two.

BP also had some snarky things to say about the guys who had been Mets the previous season. They called Ramon Castro a contender for "Backup Catcher of the Year Award," and remarked, Castro did a very credible job to the point that it merits debate whether the Mets did themselves any favors by bringing in Paul Lo Duca to replace Piazza. Of Carlos Beltran, they said, A player who shuns the spotlight, Beltran is no longer the lineup's featured attraction, so perhaps he'll bounce back. But the most interesting things were said about Jose Reyes:

Reyes would do less damage at the bottom of the order, as everybody except Willie Randolph seems to grasp. By batting him leadoff, Randolph put the focus on what he can't do, instead of playing up to what he can... He can still have a very long career, even if he never gets it completely together.

It sounds stupid now, but they were absolutely right about Randolph. No one could have foreseen Reyes' drastic OBP increase, from .271 in 2004 to .300 in 2005, to .354 in 2006 and 2007. (It was a lot better for the first half of this year.) And it wasn't being at the top of the order that turned him into a lead-off man, either. No, BP is not at fault for ridiculing Randolph; in fact, they were right on:

It's like something out of a Bronc Burnett novel: the little pesky guys playing the little pesky guy positions have to bat at the top. The result was a .299 OBP out of the leadoff slot and a .296 mark out of the two-hole, costing the Mets a great many runs, particularly early in the game when getting out to a quick lead is often decisive.

Yea, those were the dark days of the Mets. Yet Randolph hasn't gotten better; he still likes his little pesky guys at the top of the lineup, but they just happen to be a little better at getting on base. Castillo's OBP isn't enough to compensate for his miserable slugging percentage. Also consider this:

The difference between the Mets' closing situation and that of the Braves was that Atlanta pulled the plug on Dan Kolb early, while the Mets endured bad closing work from Braden Looper for the duration of 2005.

Has this changed at all? In 2006 the team had a great bullpen, so there was little Randolph could do to fuck it up. But in 2007, when problems abounded, Willie just stuck the same guys out there in the same ill-applied roles. Mota and Schoeneweis were his 6th and 7th inning guys; Heilman and Feliciano were his 8th inning guys; and Wagner was the "closer." Regardless of leverage, he trotted the same guys out there in the same innings. While Feliciano is a really good pitcher against both sides of the plate, Randolph used him as a LOOGY, because that's what he thought he was. Schoeneweis is really just a LOOGY, as right-handers do far better than average against him. But somehow Willie thought he could pitch whole innings against right-handers. Similarly, Mota is a ROOGY at best, but he got whole innings in close games against powerful left-handed bats, and of course, they burned him. The next night we'd see him in the same situation, just like in 2005, when Braden Looper was the "closer," despite being rocked by left-handers to the tune of .336/.408/.578.

It was stupid then, and it's stupid now. The Mets have some better players, but as an organization, their foolish approach has not changed. They still have the same regard for toolsy players and "eccentric" spare parts, they still have the same tactically weak manager, and they still have the same desire "to earn credits with the fans and keep the press happy in January." We'll be holding our breaths until April.

Note: We posted part of this as a response to the article on U.S.S. Mariner, and Dave responded:

Actually, the Mets have a lot of smart people working for them. Omar might not listen to them all the time, but they’re definitely having some influence.

So there's hope.

Wright is MVP

According to David Gassko of The Hardball Times, David Wright was far and away the best player in the National League:

Sure, the Mets collapsed over the last few weeks of the season, but none of the blame for that can go to Wright, who had a 1.034 OPS in September and October. It’s not fair to punish a player, especially so severely, just because his teammates choked down the stretch.

David receives a huge boost from his defense, where along with Pedro Feliz he ranks as the best defensive third baseman in baseball. This must seem strange to Mets fans, who can recall many of Wright's signature glove tap-preceded errant throws to first base. But the fielding metrics generally agree that Wright has such a superlative range that its effect is not greatly diminished by the occasional throwing error. Ryan Zimmerman, who always seemed to make amazing plays against the Mets, ranks up among the defensive leaders as well, as does Chipper Jones, Gassko's #2 MVP choice.

Gassko used a combination of hitting, fielding, pitching and catching to rank every player in baseball according to "Total Runs Above Average," and provided an Excel spreadsheet with his results. Though I think the numbers value fielding a little too highly, they are still very interesting.

Here are how the Mets did:

David Wright: +44 Hitting, +29 Fielding; Total: 73 (2nd overall)
Carlos Beltran: +25 Hitting, +11 Fielding; Total: 35 (16th)
Jose Reyes: +20 Hitting, +15 Fielding; Total: 35 (18th)
Billy Wagner: +14 Pitching
Orlando Hernandez: +13 Pitching
Moises Alou: +11 Hitting; +0 Fielding; Total: 11
John Maine: +9 Pitching
Aaron Heilman: +9 Pitching
Pedro Feliciano: +7 Pitching
Tom Glavine: +4 Hitting; +2 Pitching; Total: 6
Carlos Gomez: -5 Hitting; +10 Fielding; Total: 5
Pedro Martinez: +4 Pitching; Total: 4
Marlon Anderson: +1 Hitting; +0 Fielding; Total: 2 (rounding)
Endy Chavez: -4 Hitting; +6 Fielding; Total: 2
Oliver Perez: -1 Hitting; +2 Pitching; Total: 1
Damion Easley: +5 Hitting; -4 Fielding; Total: 0 (rounding)
Ricky Ledee: -1 Hitting; +1 Fielding; Total: 0
Ramon Castro: no numbers given for some reason
Anderson Hernandez: +0 Hitting
Luis Castillo: +2 Hitting; -3 Fielding; Total: -1
Julio Franco: -5 Hitting; +4 Fielding (!); Total: -1
Sandy Alomar, Jr.: -2 Hitting, +1 Catching; Total: -1
Willie Collazo: -1 Pitching
Jose Valentin: -3 Hitting; +2 Fielding; Total: -2 (rounding)
Philip Humber: -2 Pitching
David Newhan: -4 Hitting; +1 Fielding; Total: -3
Lastings Milledge: +0 Hitting; -3 Fielding; Total: -3
Ruben Gotay: +1 Hitting; -4 Fielding; Total: -3
Paul Lo Duca: -2 Hitting; -3 Catching; Total: -5
Chan Ho Park: -5 Pitching
Scott Schoeneweis: -5 Pitching
Brian Lawrence: -7 Pitching
Guillermo Mota: -8 Pitching
Shawn Green: -1 Hitting; -8 Fielding; Total: -8 (rounding)
Dave Williams: -9 Pitching
Mike Pelfrey: -1 Hitting; -9 Pitching; Total: -10
Carlos Delgado: -5 Hitting; -5 Fielding; Total: -10
Jeff Conine: -10 Hitting; -4 Fielding; Total: -14

We should note that other defensive metrics actually find Delgado to be well above average.

Other notable players and their metrics include Adam Dunn (+24, -20), Manny Ramirez (+5, -29), Ryan Braun (+33, -32), Garrett Atkins (+3, -25), Nick Punto (-31, +4) and Carlos Lee (+12, -18). The entire Reds outfield was horrible defensively, with Dunn, Griffey (+6, -24) and Josh Hamilton (+14, -11).

According to this system, the worst player in baseball was Scott Olsen of the Marlins (+2 Hitting, -43 Pitching), and the best was Curtis Granderson (+36, +39). The worst position player was Pirate 3B Jose Bautista (-5, -33), and the best pitcher was Jake Peavy (+6 Hitting, +42 Pitching).

The best defensive shortstop was rookie Troy Tulowitzki, with a +25 defense. If these defensive metrics are at least half right, Troy is the RoY, not Ryan Braun (see above). Other shortstops' defensive ratings: John McDonald of the Blue Jays (+20), Reyes (+15), Adam Everett (+14), Jack Wilson (+13), Omar Vizquel (+11), Jimmy Rollins (-6), Michael Young (-11), Yuniesky Betancourt (-11), Stephen Drew (-13), Juan Uribe (-15), Felipe Lopez (-19), Hanley Ramirez (-24), and Derek Jeter (-25).

We claimed yesterday that Mark Ellis was a great defensive second baseman. Here's how he ranks amongst some notable two-sackers: Chase Utley (+21), Brandon Phillips (+15), Mark Ellis (+12), Ian Kinsler (+11), Aaron Hill (+11), Placido Polanco (+9), Orlando Hudson (+8), Mark DeRosa (+8), Howie Kendrick (+4), Robinson Cano (+3), Brian Roberts (+2), Dan Uggla (-2), Jeff Kent (-3), Luis Castillo (-3), Kelly Johnson (-9), and Ray Durham (-11).

Assembling the 2008 Mets, Part Three: Outside Position Players, Section A: Outfielders

We have examined the contract statuses of the Mets' position players here, and their pitchers here. Now it's time to examine the Mets' prospects with players on other teams.

Plenty of things are being said and will be said about what the Mets should do in the off-season. Over the past few years we still haven't learned enough about Omar Minaya to know what is in store for us. We are far from being able to make predictions about what the team will do; however, we do have an opinion about what is best for the Mets.

Should the Mets pursue an outfielder? Some have suggested that the organization trade Carlos Beltran and sign a free agent, thereby dismissing an outstanding outfielder in order to bring in another one in the same position. What would be the reason to do this? There are exactly zero available free agent center fielders who can provide the mixture of well above replacement player-level offense, intelligent speed, and top-of-the-game defense as Carlos Beltran. In 2006 he provided the team with the 6th best total of Win Shares in the last four years of the National League. Weak by comparison, his 2007 showing was good for 9th best of the year. (David Wright, the rightful NL MVP, was first.) Even at $18.5 million a year for four more years, Carlos is well worth it.

Who are the proposed replacements for Beltran? Even if Carlos isn't traded (he won't be, of course), who is on the Mets' radar amongst outfield free agents? Horror of horrors, it's Andruw Jones: [David] O'Brien's also got some early interested parties in Andruw Jones: the Dodgers, Rangers, Giants, White Sox, Nationals, Phillies, and Mets. Seems like the idea of moving Beltran to right field has been discussed within the Mets organization.

Our response: Whaaaaaaaaaat?

If Carlos Beltran isn't the best center fielder in the National League, he's at least the second best. Chris Young is pretty good too; Beltran might only be the third best on a bad day. But that's just no reason to move him, especially when great-hitting, great defensive center fielders are much harder to come by than good-hitting corner outfielders. Age is not a factor; Beltran and Andruw are the same age. And only one has showed great signs of aging. Beltran may have just had both knees surgically repaired, but he did steal 23 bases last year, while only being caught twice. Jones was five for seven. We don't know how PECOTA projects the two to 2011 and beyond, but we'd bet that Beltran comes out ahead. Players with speed and on-base talent (neither of which Jones has as much as Beltran) tend to outperform and outlast their slower and less patient counterparts. If the Mets had a discussion about moving Beltran to right field in favor of Andruw Jones, we hope it was over quickly.

Then there's that jokester, Joel Sherman. Pretending to be someone who knows something about baseball, he suggested that the Mets need "more passion." Despite being a guy who, "in general, dismiss[es] the emotional/chemistry stuff," Sherman thinks the 2007 Mets "lacked urgency and order." The Mets need a "grinder" who will "treat every at-bat like a mini holy war." So of course, they should get Aaron Rowand, David Eckstein and "jack-in-the-box" Chone Figgins. Seriously: all three.

This is, of course, rhetoric without substance. The New York Post is a tabloid, and, as such, has no interest in honestly expressing the truth or anything related to it. It's not about objectivity. No one is really looking for objectivity here. But there is no opinion embedded in this duplicity either (I'm not a chemistry guy, yet I think the Mets should get three noted "grinders"). It's all about saying the most sensational thing at the right time. He would have mentioned Darin Erstad and Juan Pierre, too, if it would not have pushed the piece into absurdity.

It looks like before we were able to publish, FJM beat us to it: Okay, Aaron Rowand had a great year last year. Career year. WARP3 of 9.6. Here are his WARP3s from the last three years: 3.3 (missed some games), 6.0, 6.8. If you're the Mets, don't you already have a guy playing center field? A Carlos somebody? Who had a mild down year to the tune of 9.5 WARP? Who has posted WARP3s of 11.9, 5.6, and 9.9 recently? ...Maybe Sherman knows more about Beltran's injuries than I do, but it seems like a pretty big waste to play a good defensive center fielder in right in order to sign an inferior center fielder.

Of course, we're assuming that the Mets will have Lastings Milledge and Moises Alou next year, in addition to Beltran. In this circumstance, the team would need an adequate player to platoon with Alou or replace him during inevitable stretches on the Disabled List. We said before that the Mets should definitely bring Alou back, but we also are unsure whether he could repeat, or even come close to his 2007 performance. If the Mets were to pass on him and sign, say, Kosuke Fukodome, we would be quite pleased. After all, left-handed batters have a huge advantage over right-handers at Shea Stadium. Of course, Shea's contract runs out next year with no chance of renewal.

According to MetsBlog.com, which got its information from Jon Heyman of Sports Illustrated, who got his information from "a person familiar with [the Mets'] thinking," Moises Alou is coming back.

What about Lastings Milledge?

Believe it or not, we think trading Milledge might not be a bad idea, if the Mets can sign Kosuke Fukudome, or a comparable left-handed talent. They would also need to get a great return on the deal. Rotoworld actually predicts that the Mets will be the ones to sign Fukodome, and have him slotted right in the Mets' lineup.

Although Kosuke is batting eighth in their imaginary setup, he'd be ideal for the second spot in the Mets' lineup. We can dream, right? One thing to be gleaned from The Book: Playing the Percentages in Baseball (review coming soon) is that the #1, #2 and #4 spots in the lineup are the most important, followed by #3 and #5. And it is important that the #2 guy has a high slugging percentage, which Fukodome certainly does have, in addition to a killer OBP (.430 or higher the last three seasons). In fact, the most important thing to be gleaned from the entire chapter on batting orders is that #2 hitters shouldn't be weak-hitting slapsters, because this is one edict that even otherwise forward-looking analytical people fail to grasp.

Who else? We've already suggested that the Mets should retain Marlon Anderson as a pinch-hitting backup, but he's really not that important to the team. Shawn Green, of course, should not be retained. Carlos Gomez is sure to start the year in AAA.

Adam Dunn's name has been thrown around. Suggested by the oft off-the-mark John Delcos, this is a refreshing proposal. Dunn is a TTO (Three True Outcomes) monster- he hits a lot of home runs, draws lots of walks, and strikes out even more. Two out of three of those things are really good. Plus, he'll only be 28 next year. There are multiple problems with this, which journalistic sensationalism prevented Delcos from mentioning. First, the Reds have an option on Dunn for $13 million which they'd be stupid not to exercise. And second, what about Lastings Milledge. Oh right, we're trading him. And Aaron Heilman. For Jon Garland or Joe Blanton.

Want a totally bogus, unsubstantiated trade rumor that we only bring up because we think its sensible and we'd love to see it happen? Sure you do. Carlos Gomez for Mark Ellis.

If we were GM, we'd bring back Alou, because we can afford it. Then we'd pursue Kosuke Fukodome for a four-year contract. But we wouldn't trade Lastings Milledge, either. Then we'd have a four-man outfield (with Beltran), which would give us some great flexibility. We'd use Kosuke Fukodome every day in right field, with Beltran in center and Lastings in left. Moises Alou would play against left-handers, or to spell any injuries. Endy Chavez would be number five, seeing plenty of time as a late-inning defensive replacement for Alou or Fukodome, and as a pinch-runner. This would leave Marlon Anderson out of the picture, which, though it breaks our heart, isn't too great a loss.