Easy like Sunday morning

And with that horrific but appropriate Lyric O' Lionel planted in your head for the rest of the day, here's an abbreviated edition of Nine Innings, along with a programming announcement: Wife and kids permitting, I'm going to attempt to live blog the Pats-Broncos game tonight, so be sure to check in around 8:15ish and keep refreshing, because I'll be writing . . . and I apologize for this . . . All night long . . . All night . . . Yeahhhh . . .

1. I'm reluctant to weigh in on any recent anti-Manny missives for obvious reasons, so let me just direct you to Seth Mnookin's reasoned take while I say this: Ripping Manny is one thing - hell, even I'd admit it's justified if it turns out the whole patellar tendinitis thing is a cover-up for his indifference - but it drives me absolutely nuts when Trot Nixon is held up as the definitive example of Mr. Team, The Dirty-Hatted Embodiment Of What Manny Should Aspire To Be. I mean, can we be serious here? Yeah, Nixon hustles on all those routine grounders to second . . . but he also can't stay healthy, doesn't appear to take conditioning seriously, has suffered a mysterious loss of power, was subpar before his injury, missed six weeks with a strained freakin' biceps muscle, and has been atrocious after the injury to the point he's hurting the team by so "courageously" playing through the pain. He's going to make a hell of a mediocre Oriole next season, and I can't wait.

2. A-Rod claims that he will not waive his no-trade clause to leave New York after this season, but wouldn't it be just like him to make such a faux-tough-guy pronouncement while behind the scenes, his other face tells Scott Boras to start pushing for a deal? I'll bet you Derek Jeter's little black book that A-Rod is Anaheim next season. It makes perfect sense. Getting rid of A-Rod for, say, Chone Figgins and a pitcher (hopefully not Ervin Santana), would be a great deal for the Yankees simply from the addition-by-subtraction standpoint. And Anaheim is the perfect place for A-Rod. Owner Arte Moreno covets star-power and needs a slugger behind Vladi, it's a very good team, A-Rod could go back to playing short again, there's no pressure, and with all the phonies in L.A., he'd feel right at home.

3. Cla Meredith says he started pitching well again once he realized he should disregard everything the Red Sox tried to teach him. Gammons says Craig Hansen looks nothing like the unhittable sinker/slider power pitcher who ruled the Cape League two summers ago. And there's no need to list the staff's worth of pitchers who have thrived once they've departed Boston. So I ask: Is it possible that neither Al Nipper nor Dave Wallace really has any clue what he's doing?

4. I didn't think it was possible to admire Big Papi any more than I already did, but after he came up with the idea of posing for photos before a game for $100 a pop to pay for a sick little girl's care at Dana Farber, well, it's heartwarming to know he's as clutch off the field as he is on it.

5. You bet I hope Keith Foulke is back in Boston next season. That recently revealed split finger looks like a legitimate out pitch, and as Theo has learned the hard way, half the battle in building a bullpen is finding the right reclamation projects. After two lost seasons, right now he looks like a decent bet to find his old form in '07. Hey, if Todd Jones could come back and be useful, anyone can.

6. And will we're on the topic of renovating the bullpen, I have to admit I'm intrigued by the rumors that the Sox covet Houston closer Brad Lidge. Sure, Lidge has had an inordinate number of peaks and valleys this season - he's the current embodiment of a heart-attack closer - and he's probably still spooked by that Mars-shot he gave up to Albert Pujols in the playoffs last season. But he has an astounding 98 strikeouts in 68.2 innings, which suggests that his stuff is still filthy even if his confidence is shaken, and he's only 29. Assuming the price is reasonable, I'd call him a good risk with a potentially great reward.

7. The Herald floated the notion this week that Matt Clement could be in the mix for the closer role next season. Riiiiight, just as soon as Theo signs Schiraldi and Slocumb to be his set-up men. Other than the fact that Clement 1) takes forever to warm up 2) generally stuggles in his first inning of work, and 3) has the intestinal fortitude of a newborn kitten, it's a brilliant idea.

8. Wasn't that thrilled with "The Office" season premiere at first - the Michael/Oscar stuff was just a little too over the top, and the dynamic was off without Jim in the Scranton office. But upon further viewing, I've come to think it's one of the better episodes yet, both in terms of humor (Creed's free-love flashback just killed me, and Roy's Nolte-esque mug shot was classic) and the subtle ways in which Jim and Pam are shown longing for each other (the empty chair, Jim commenting on his new view when his old view was lovelier). Two seasons and one episode into its run, and I have no qualms about saying "The Office" is my second-favorite comedy of all-time, after "Seinfeld" and well ahead of the dated "Cheers."

9. As for today's Completely Random Baseball Card:


A wicked fun snippet from Bob Klapisch's current column on ESPN.com:

"[Reggie] Jackson doesn't mind getting in A-Rod's face on occasion. And, to be fair, Rodriguez does listen with respect. He did just that with Giambi, too. But all Giambi was doing was filling a conversational void created by the one Yankee who could have -- and perhaps should have -- confronted A-Rod.

"That would be Jeter, of course. If there's anyone who could make Rodriguez understand the difference between greatness and greatness under pressure, it's the guy batting almost .400 with runners in scoring position. But anyone hoping for a Jeter-Rodriguez summit shouldn't hold their breath. The cold war between them is even more pronounced than the one with Mussina. Jeter reportedly has never forgiven A-Rod for the disparaging remarks he made in Esquire in 2001, and as one Yankee official said, "There is no coming back from one of Derek's grudges. Once you're gone, you're gone."

"Rodriguez shouldn't feel that bad, really. Jeter apparently did the same to Mariah Carey a decade ago, cutting off their relationship so abruptly -- and remaining so determined not to let the singer back into his good graces -- that kids created the slang-verb "Jeter-ed" to mean getting forever dumped.

So personal grudges take priority over what's best for the New York Yankees? The evidence is mounting, McCarver. The captain has no clothes. (In the spirit of fairness, Klapisch also wrote this insightful piece on why Jeter is so guarded and aloof. And I do give Jetes credit for ditching Mariah. After all, she's loonier than A-Rod and has a more unnatural physique than Giambi.)

Nine innings: 09.04.06

Playing nine innings while finally seeing some familiar names on the lineup card . . .


1. With his spot-on Big Papi imitation tonight, Carlos Pena (of the Haverhill Penas) lived the common dream of New England kids through the ages: to hit a game-winning home run at Fenway Park. He's one of us, and it was chill-inducing to see how much he savored it. Long regarded as one of the nicest people in the game, reacted with genuine joy, as if the moment's realization took him back to the day he first imagined it. "Do you know how many times I'm doing this in my backyard? It's amazing," he said. "I've dreamed of this since I was 12 years old." Now, feel free to accuse me of getting caught up in the good vibes of the night, but I do hope there is a spot on the roster for Pena next season. Frankly, I don't quite understand why he hasn't been able to hold down a big-league gig. He's a terrific first baseman, has a selective eye (though he does strike out a ton), has legitimate power (he walloped 27 homers in '03), and at 28, is still young enough to realize the potential that saw him reach the majors at 23, just two years removed from Northeastern. You'd think he'd at least make a valuable member of the bench. And who doesn't love a local-boy-makes-good story, especially when he's making good for the local team?

2. So the Sox are six back in the wild-card and nine in the division with 24 games left to play. While stranger things have happened, I'd say the more reasonable among us agree that the 2006 playoffs will go on without the Boston Red Sox' participation. And you know what? I find myself feeling strangely fine about this. Maybe it's because of the frightening, life-altering situation young Jon Lester suddenly finds himself in, or maybe it's because of David Ortiz's health scare, or maybe it's something as trivial as a baseball matter, such as the thought that the franchise's future would be better served if Jonathan Papelbon never unleashed another pitch this season. Or maybe it's all of this: the relentless injuries (Ortiz, Ramirez, Nixon, Crisp, Wakefield, Varitek, Pena, Foulke, Wells, Gonzalez, Schilling, Papelbon . . .), poor roster construction (save for Papelbon, the bullpen's performance has been like some bizarre tribute to Heathcliff Slocumb), a lack of suitable depth in the high minors (Kevin Freakin' Jarvis? Mike Burns? Seriously?), and the common-sense realization that this team in perfect health probably wasn't going to star in a sequel to Faith Rewarded. Hey, sometimes it's okay to admit that it's just not your turn.

3. I was going to use this space to rant about Theo's decision to trade David Riske to the White Sox for The Less Famous But Equally Useless Of The Javier Lopezes, but then a kindly SoSHer pointed out to me that the White Sox are extremely reluctant to use Riske in any - I apologize in advance - risky situations, and that he's continuing his career-long trend of pitching well only in low-pressure moments. Then I was going to use this space to rip on Theo for leaving Craig Breslow buried at Pawtucket most of the season while lefty batters continued to make hamburger of the Sox bullpen, but then Breslow went out and pitched exactly like you'd expect someone named Craig Breslow to pitch. So seeing how it's pretty clear that I'm about as clueless at trying to assemble a bullpen as Theo is, let me just say in my wishy-washy way that I wish Cla Meredith were still here, and I'm pretty sure he'd help somewhat seeing that he hasn't given up a run in 20-something innings in the Quadruple A National League, and that maybe this building a bullpen thing ain't so easy after all.

4. A few of us here at TATB headquarters felt like shedding more than just crocodile tears when we heard about the bizarre and tragic death of "Crocodile Hunter" Steve Irwin this morning. While I'm more the indoorsy type, my wife was a longtime fan of his show, and I always enjoyed watching it with her. You just couldn't help but be drawn in by his uncommon abundance of charisma, enthusiasm, and knowledge, and his rapport with all of his creatures was tangible, truly something to behold. It was apparent that he was one of the lucky few whose life's work also happened to be his true passion. He'll be missed, and I feel terrible for his kids.

5. From a fan's standpoint, I was bummed to see Boomer Wells depart. As a rule, I'm pretty much cool with any athlete who has a Body By Hostess, and it was an absolute treat to watch him pitch when his curveball was working and his creaky knees could bear the weight. He was the anti-Clement, a fearless, efficient, strike-throwing machine, and I wonder how this season might have been different had he made 30 starts. But taking bleacher-creature sentiment out of it, I think the Sox made a pretty decent deal, assuming the reports that catcher George Kottaras is the PTBNL are accurate. While he's struggled in his in-season promotion from Double A to Triple A, he's only 23, he was the Padres' No. 2 prospect coming into the season, is said to be solid defensively but for some supposedly correctable mechanical flaws, and earned an intriguing pre-season review from Baseball Prospectus:

The fraternity of former hot catching prospects is fraught with disappointment - ask Matt LeCroy or Toby Hall. Kottaras resembles a young Craig Biggio more than behemoths like LeCroy or Hall, though, and he looks like he's going to be a pretty fair defensive backstop. His 36 doubles and 69 walks point to some promising line-drive power and a good batting eye, traits that will serve him well at higher levels. With just 101 Double-A at-bats on his record, he won't be a factor in the big leagues in 2006. Look for Kottaras in 2007 - Doug Mirabelli is not a long term solution behind the plate.

Little did they know that last line would refer to the Red Sox and not the Padres, huh?

6. And speaking of our favorite plus-size ballplayers, let me say this: If you don't enjoys watching Ryan Howard, a genuine slugger with a veteran's savvy at the plate (his opposite-field power is reee-diculous), then you are either a David Eckstein-lovin', scrappy-white-guy fetishist, a National League pitcher, or someone who so foolishly had him pegged as the next Sam Horn. Hell, I'm the latter, and he might be favorite NL player at the moment.

7. Three quick thoughts on the Yankees: 1) Typical A-Rod, going on a tear once everything of consequence is in the bag. 2) I'm not saying it's fair or right, but Derek Jeter is going to win the AL MVP, the Gold Glove, and the Maybelline Metrosexual of the Year award. 3) How come Johnny Damon's name doesn't come up in this MVP talk? I'm not saying he should win the thing, but after putting up stellar numbers, leading the 5-game annihilation of his former team, filling the gaping hole in center field that was previously occupied by the mummified Bernie Williams, and bringing a sense of fun and relaxation to the tense Yankees clubhouse, shouldn't he at least be in the discussion?

8. Be well, Jon Lester. An entire Nation looks forward to celebrating your next victory, one that has nothing to do with baseball.

9. As for today's Completely Random Baseball Card:



Not only did the Sox have to settle for a spilt with the Blue Jays after winning the first two games of the series, but we didn't even get to see John Gibbons punch out one of his players. Talk about a letdown.