Nine innings: 02.18.08

Playing nine innings while waiting for Derek Jeter to have his Gold Gloves revoked . . .


1. I believed this before reading Gordon Edes's outstanding front-page feature the other day, but now I'm convinced more than ever: Jon Lester is going to make a significant breakthrough this season. I'm thinking 15 wins and an ERA right around 4.00, and I'm trying to be cautious. It's not easy, though. John Farrell adores him, which counts for a lot in my eyes, and the most recent picture I have of Lester in my mind was his spot-on imitation of a vintage Bruce Hurst in the World Series clincher. I honestly don't think I'm going overboard here when I say he day will come - and soon - when we're glad the Sox refused to part with him for Johan Santana.

2. Jorge Posada's defense of Roger Clemens, at the expense of a current teammate's testimony and in the face of all common sense, automatically makes me suspicious of just what methods the Yankees catcher used to post a career-best OPS+ of 154 last season in contract year at age 36. It's probably not fair and even a little irresponsible, I know, but I just can't comprehend why he'd take Clemens's worthless word over Pettitte's unless perhaps his misplaced sympathy was born from having something to hide himself.

3. Trivia question I plucked out of an AP story at work last night: In the last six seasons, Roy Oswalt leads the majors with 98 wins, and Roy Halladay is second with 93. Who's third, with 92? Hint: You've booed him, cheered him, and maybe even had a beer with him. Also, his name is not Roy. Click the link for his ID.

4. I applaud the Red Sox' caution with Clay Buchholz, especially considering that the No-Hit Kid's 2007 season was abbreviated in part due to a tired shoulder. But they're taking it too far if they send him down to Pawtucket while a proven mediocrity such as Julian Tavarez or Kyle Snyder occupies the fifth spot in the rotation. Buchholz has a chance to be an impact pitcher immediately - with his uncommon command of his excellent secondary pitches, I would not be completely shocked if he was the Sox' No. 2 starter by the end of the summer. I don't fault them for babying their prized prospect, and limiting the skinny righty to 180 innings or so this season makes perfect sense. What doesn't make sense: having him pitch anywhere but where he belongs.

5. I wasn't sure whether to pity Debbie Clemens for being another victim of her lying oaf of a husband's runaway ego, or to dismiss her as a vapid, delusional enabler, a Stepford baseball wife. I'm leaning toward the latter, however, after hearing the story about her and Mrs. Canseco comparing, um, assets at the now-infamous barbecue. Turns out Roger wasn't the only boob to make an appearance that day.

6. The Sox really have no choice but to sign Jason Varitek to a contract extension, and I don't mean to suggest that's a bad thing. Compared to other catchers, the 36-year-old captain was very productive last season, batting .255 with 17 homers and 103 OPS+, and we're all aware of his value when it comes to leadership, preparation, and all the small but significant things. (Yes, I refused to use the word "intangibles" there. Jeter owns the copyright, I believe.) It's just that, at his age, durability has to become an increasing concern, and the safest bet for the Sox would be to sign him to something like a two-year, $24 million extension. But with Posada, a superior hitter but inferior to Varitek at just about everything else, signing a four-year, $56.2 million deal in the offseason that will keep him in pinstripes through his 40th birthday, you have to figure Varitek and his agent, Scott Boras, will be looking for something in that pricey neighborhood. And the Sox, with no legitimate catching prospects on the immediate horizon (sorry, Dusty Brown), might just have to pay it.

7. Three quick Pats thoughts, because dammit, I just can't quit them: 1) I'm glad Belichick and Pioli are finally counter-punching regarding Spygate. It ought to prevent other Patriot haters from jumping on the pile after the likes of William Gary, Arlen Spector, and Matt Walsh. But I have to admit, my first impression as I read Mike Reiss's story Sunday night was that the Patriots' portrayal of Walsh as some sort of serial taper sure would be a very convenient way to distance themselves from him if he does happen to possess any damning video. And my hunch - and that's all it is - is that they are fairly certain he does, which would mean, unfortunately, that this ridiculously overblown story is not going away any day soon. 2) I like Zach Thomas as a player, at least until those little birdies started circling his head, but I'm just not sure where he'd fit with the Pats. Hasn't he spent his whole career in a 4-3, hiding behind fat defensive tackles and running to the ball? Doesn't seem like his style and the Pats' defense are compatible. Of course, I said the same thing about Junior Seau two years ago, and now I'm crossing my fingers that he puts off graduation for another year. 3) Ty Law, coming back home? Yes, please, though you have to figure the 33-year-old corner (doesn't it seem like he should be older?) will again choose cold, hard cash over sentiment.


8. I guarantee you the following is the best ending to a column you'll ever see on this blog:

I can't believe he won't come walking out of a clearing, bent over and holding his back and complaining that the swim was bad for his sciatica. If you see someone answering that description, throw him a bad pitch down around the ankles outside and, if he hits it screaming down the right-field line, it can only be Clemente, and you'll know reports of his condition have been grossly exaggerated once again.

I suppose I'm doing the writer a disservice here by repeating his column's masterful ending without fully explaining the circumstances, but I'm going to assume you quickly solved the topic and the circumstances. It's the conclusion to a column written by the legendary Jim Murray that appeared in the L.A. Times on January 3, 1973, three days after a plane carrying Pittsburgh Pirates superstar Roberto Clemente crashed off the coast of Puerto Rico while attempting to deliver relief supplies to earthquake victims in Nicaragua. The body of Clemente, who Murray lovingly eulogizes in the piece as an endearing grump and somewhat of a hypochondriac, was never found, of course, which makes the piece all the more poignant.

I've long been fascinated by Clemente - he and Jackie Robinson are the two players before my time who I wish I'd seen in person - but I'd never read Murray's column about his disappearance until I recently picked up an old anthology of his best work, appropriately titled "The Great Ones." Let's just say I now consider it the best $1.99 I've ever spent.

If you're familiar with Murray's work - and perhaps you are, since he was syndicated for decades (I read him in the Portland Press Herald as a kid) and is widely considered the finest sports columnist ever - it won't be a revelation when I say his columns are elegantly simple, expertly crafted, and unfailingly hilarious. Among current sportswriters, only Joe Posnanski owns the same attributes, and reading both of them often leaves me both inspired and disheartened. It sucks to know that my best column will never be in the same ballpark as Murray's or Posnanski's worst, yet reading them enhances my desire to write, because they remind me just how fulfilling and great something as silly as sportswriting can be. I think that's the best compliment I can pay.

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


Josh Booty was once the highest-rated prep quarterback in Louisiana, ahead of a certain future ubiquitous pitchman. And I'll tell anyone who will listen that, having seen him often during his two seasons with the Portland Sea Dogs, he unequivocally has the best throwing arm I have ever seen in person, and that's no exaggeration. For all of his athletic potential, however, he's now apparently just a severely tasered version of Drew Henson, a ballyhooed prep star who wasn't quite good enough at two sports.

Pregame notes . . . and a programming note

Quick notes on The Showdown while wondering which rules Bill Polian will want changed should the Colts lose . . .


Can't wait to see how the Patriots will attack the Colts' defense on the first series. Will they come out five-wide with Tom Brady in the shotgun? Will Dillon and Maroney (who apparently had a bye last week) test that previously porous Indy run defense with four or five consecutive carries? Or will the approach be something that will come as a surprise to you, me, and Tony Dungy? Probably the best thing about the Patriots' offense is how malleable it is. The offense has an uncanny knack of morphing into exactly what it needs to be to defeat a specific opponent. So what is it that they need to be today?

And in case you can't tell, I am not buying this whole "rejuvenated Colts defense" nonsense one bit. Oh, I know Bob Sanders is a fine player, the closest thing the Colts have to Rodney Harrison, and he certainly makes a tangible difference when he's healthy. But a team that allows 178 rushing yards per game over the course of the 16-game regular season, then has the good fortune of playing A) the Chiefs, coached by the comically inept and stunningly unprepared Herm Edwards in the first round and B) the Ravens, who relied on the mummified remains of Steve McNair and Jamal Lewis at its two most important skill positions . . . well, that's a defense that strikes me as having a whole lot left to prove, particularly against a balanced offense.

Is there any way the Patriots can make sure Ty Law is in the building today? Maybe give him a fake beard and mustache, put him in a No. 31 Pats jersey, and tell him his name is "Antwain Spann" until further notice? You know Manning would throw two interceptions his way just out of habit; Law has to be among Manning's leading receivers in the postseason. As it is, I suppose we have to hope Asante Samuel has a Law-type game today. The Pats' chances would be greatly enhanced by a Manning mistake early, just to plant the seed in his skull that while he's beaten the Pats twice in a row in the regular season, things haven't changed when it's all on the line. I want to see him rip off that chin strap in disgust at least twice in the first quarter.

Tully Banta-Cain, 2006: 5.5 sacks, 43 tackles. Dwight Freeney, 2006: 5.5 sacks, 29 tackles. Just thought that needed to be pointed out.

A Pats fan has to take some comfort in the fact that Ricky Proehl now plays for the Colts, having been signed to replace the injured Brandon Stokely during the season. Proehl's presence has been something of a good luck omen for the Patriots during this six-year run of excellence. He was on the losing side in the Patriots' first two Super Bowl victories, and every Pats fan I know still gets a good snicker out the video of Proehl's "Tonight, a dynasty is born," proclamation in the moments before the Pats-Rams Super Bowl. The damn fool didn't know how right he was. I wonder if anyone has asked him about that this week.

It's not difficult to find legitimate football reasons why Manning can lead the Colts to victory today. He's beaten the Patriots twice in a row . . . he believes he's solved the puzzle of the Belichick defense, to the point that he actually claimed Chad Scott was out of position on an interception in the previous game this season, the suggestion being that Manning knew where Scott was supposed to be . . . he throws on the run better than he has in any previous season . . . he has a cadre of offensive weapons . . . what the heck is a cadre, anyway? . . . he's 6-5, 230 pounds, with a laser-rocket arm, if you like that sort of thing . . . my point here, is this: so many alleged experts have picked the Colts to win this week for no other reason than "it's Manning's time." Really? That's the best analysis you can come up with? Talk about hackneyed reasoning - that's the pinnacle of laziness. And besides, wasn't last year supposed to be Manning's time . . . and the year before . . . and the year before Tee Martin won it all at Tennessee . . . and . . .

Of course, 9 of ESPN's 10 "experts" picked the Chargers to beat the Pats, and according to Boston Sports Media Watch, 19 of 26 national "experts" are taking the Colts this week. We all know the "they disrespected us" angle is a tiresome device, but if the Patriots want to use it as motivation again this week, there's certainly enough evidence for them to make their case.

As for my pick, it's an easy one: Saints 34, Bears 20. Deuce gets loose on the Bears' no-longer-dominant run defense. (Oh, right . . . as for that other game, if you know anything about my track record with Patriots predictions this year, you know I'm damn sure not about to take a shot at this one. Let's just say I'm very nervous and even a little bit worried, and as we've learned over the course of the season, my paranoia usually ends up being a good thing.)

Finally, be sure to pop back in around 6:30ish - the odds are we'll be blogging this one live from the Official TATB Couch. I'm not on the desk at the Globe tonight, and I was going to head up to Portland to watch the game with a couple of buddies, but then my little boy came down with a bug and I figure I should be a decent husband and dad and stay home and . . , um, ignore the family for four hours while I watch football, eat, drink, and peck away furiously on the computer. Yup, it's January, and damned if I don't have the Father of the Year trophy locked up already.

As for today's Completely Random Football Card:


Bert Jones. Now there's a Colts quarterback we could dig. Injuries altered his career, but at his best he might have had better all-around ability than Manning. Know what's weird about this, though? Belichick was on the Colts' staff in '75, right around the time this photo was likely taken. You kind of forget he's been around so long.

Kick me

RANDOM, SEMI-COHERENT, WEE-HOURS NOTES ABOUT SATURDAY'S NFL GAMES . . .

Nothing tells me it's playoff season like a Ty Law interception of a Peyton Manning pass. Or two. Man, I do wish sly ol' No. 24 was still a Patriot . . . I give Manning credit for saying afterward that he told Law he'd gladly introduce him at his Hall of Fame speech (and make no mistake, Law belongs in Canton), but Archie's Doofus Spawn has never had a hard time being a gracious winner. It's when he loses that he's all too eager to help identify the other culprits . . . He could kick for them for the next decade, and I will never get used to seeing Adam Vinatieri in a Colts uniform . . . Jets fans had to be snickering at Herm Edwards's completely inept coaching job in the Chiefs' shameful 23-8 loss to Indy. Must have looked pretty familiar, right down to the botched clock management at the end of the first half. Going from Herm to Eric Mangini is like going from Rosie O'Donnell to, well, just about any other female mammal on earth. The upgrade is off the charts . . . When it was clear Indy had made the necessary tactical adjustments to at least contain the Chiefs' running game - as Pats fans learned earlier this season, Bob Sanders is a run-stopping defense all by himself - Edwards's Plan B was to stare blankly and scratch his head . . . What should he have done? For starters, he should have benched Trent Green for Damon Huard once it was apparent that Green couldn't find an open receiver with a GPS system . . . Huard is one of the best backups in football, he has the reputation as always being prepared, he was terrific when Green was injured early in the season, and besides, he could not have been worse . . . Of course, it wasn't all Green's fault: How many catches did Eddie Kennison and the Chiefs' receivers collect: Try zero-zip-nada. Maybe Reche Caldwell and his merry band of misfits isn't the worst receiving crew in the playoffs after all . . . As for that other game today: Holy *#$&# . . . Tony Romo, meet Leon Lett. Leon Lett, say hello to Tony Romo . . . You have to feel bad for the kid, his fairy tale season ending with his pumpkin smashed to bits, though I think it became apparent a few weeks ago that he's much more similar to Jake Plummer than he is to Tom Brady or Peyton Manning . . . For what it's worth, Terry Glenn barely budged as Romo's hail mary fell five feet in front of him. Friggin' she. Phelan would've had it . . . Boy, Bill Parcells looks like a tired old man. I think he'll come back - coaches coach, he might say - but I can't imagine he's looking forward to another year of T.O. and Jerry Jones . . . Was it wrong of me to root for some Seahawk to roll up Romo's leg, just so we could find out once and for all if Drew Bledsoe does indeed still attend the games? Until I see definitive proof that he was on the sideline today, I'm convinced he watched this one from the barcalounger at his Montana compound . . . Guess Martin Gramatica isn't as tough as he looks, huh? . . . Somewhere, a certain drunken idiot kicker was 18 Bud Lights into a case and muttering to himself, "Dude, I'd have made that block." . . . I feel bad for a good buddy of mine who's a loyal (if demented) Cowboys fan, but I couldn't bring myself to root for them today for one reason: Terrell Owens is the most despicable athlete of my lifetime, at least among those who haven't committed felonies. He can't go away fast enough . . . No knock on Logan Mankins, but I still wish the Patriots had taken Lofa Tatupu in Rd. 1 a year ago . . . I think I understand why Bill Belichick put so much stock in Ken Walter's holding abilities now . . . And in a completely unrelated note, I do hate it when Pam cries.


. . . AND A FEW SCATTERED THOUGHTS ABOUT WHAT WE'RE EXPECTING/WORRIED ABOUT/LOOKING FORWARD TO COME 1 P.M. TODAY . . .

Upon first consideration of this Patriots-Jets matchup, I was extremely confident that it would be a blowout, perhaps something of the 41-10 variety. But the more I think about it, the more I wonder if the Jets have a vibe similar to the 2001 Pats, and the more concerned I've become . . . and I think that's a good thing. As you likely know if you visit here with any regularity, my crystal ball has been on the fritz regarding Patriots predictions this season. (For a flashback to its more effective days, click here.) Most of the time, I've been made to look a fool (or if you prefer a harsher term, a Salisbury) when I've fretted that the Patriots might find themselves in a nailbiter with an inferior opponent (see: Packers, Texans) only to have New England cruise to a lopsided victory. To be honest, I'm cool with playing the town boob so long as it means the Patriots live to play another week. So here's hoping the trend continues, and my nagging concerns are revealed, again, to be more proof that I should never, ever bet on football . . . Given the damage that Pacman Jones did to the Patriots' coverage teams last week, we should be sufficiently concerned about the impact Justin Miller could have on today's game. Miller averaged 28.3 yards per return this season, and the Patriots simply cannot allow him to approach that gaudy number . . . I know his rookie season was remarkably similar to his legendary predecessor's, but I still get Wilfork-sized butterflies in my stomach whenever Stephen Gostkowski has to attempt a meaningful kick - and frankly, he really hasn't been tested by too many crucial situations. In retrospect, I wish he'd gotten a game-winning attempt or two out of the way during the regular season . . . The Jets blitzed the Patriots 28 times during their 17-14 victory the last time the teams' met, with impressive young safety Kerry Rhodes involved it what seemed like 27 of them. If they do it again today, I have a feeling Tom Brady will have an answer for it, and that answer likely will include throwing the ball toward the receiver who is matched up with Hank Poteat . . . Chad Pennington has my respect. How he so methodically lofts those helium balloons over a defender and into his receiver's arms is one of the great mysteries of the NFL. Talk about a touch passer - there's no margin for error with him. If he's off just a little bit, those pinpoint passes turn into interceptions. He's the Jamie Moyer of the NFL . . . Who the hell is Matt Chatham to be talking trash? The best thing he ever did as a Patriot was knock the stuffing out of that streaker during the second Super Bowl win . . . Wouldn't it be nice if certain storyline-driven media folks spent less time wondering in print whether Bill Belichick would say Mangini's name and more time trying to find out just what happened that made Belichick so vengeful toward his former protege in the first place? Peter King tonight mentioned a couple of rumors that we've been hearing for a while - namely, that Mangini tampered with Patriots' free agents, Chatham included, before officially departing for the Jets, and that he also told Deion Branch they'd rip up the final year of his contract should he become a Jet, a promise that may have helped encourage Branch to stand his ground in his holdout. If any of this is true, isn't Belichick justified in his anger at the blatant betrayal? I guess it's just easier to paint him as the bad guy, the petty one, than to find out once and for all what really happened . . . I was hoping to live blog the game, but I got called to duty at work, where I'll be attempting the tricky feat of putting together a SportsLog with one eye on the television. Sounds painful, doesn't it? I'm hoping to get a chance to pop into the comments section once or twice, though, so be sure to stop in during the game. Here's hoping we get to do this again next week.