Baseball Predictions, 2004 Scorecard

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In the next few days, I’ll be publishing my 2005 baseball predictions. So let’s revisit how I did in 2004:

The winner appears in blue, my pick appears in black if I got it wrong. The number that follows is where my pick actually placed in the race.

AL East: Yankees
AL Central: Twins
AL West: Angels, A’s (2)
AL Wild Card: Red Sox

NL East: Braves
NL Central: Cardinals, Astros (2, WC)
NL West: Dodgers, Giants (2)
NL Wild Card: Astros, Cardinals (won division)

World Series: Cardinals / Red Sox. Sox in 4, Cardinals / A’s, with the A’s winning in 6.

AL MVP: Vladimir Guerrero, Manny Ramirez (3)
NL MVP: Barry Bonds, Albert Pujols (3)

AL Cy Young: Johan Santana, Mike Mussina (no votes)
NL Cy Young: Roger Clemens, Wade Miller (no votes, but hey, he pitched behind the winner, huh?)

AL HR champ: Manny Ramirez, Alex Rodriguez (t-6)
NL HR champ: Adrian Beltre, Albert Pujols (t-2)

AL batting champ: Ichiro Suzuki, Garrett Anderson (not in top 40)
NL batting champ: Barry Bonds, Albert Pujols (5)

AL Rookie: Bobby Crosby, Joe Mauer (season ended quickly due to injury)
NL Rookie: Jason Bay, Kaz Matsui (6)

I think I did reasonably well. I underestimated Bonds, but Pujols was monster, and I will likely pick him to win everything under the sun for the NL again. I wasn’t too far off on the hitters and MVPs, and didn’t do as well with the Cy Youngs.

2005 predictions should come before Opening Day…

Congress, You Suck. Baseball, You Suck. Go Braves!

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I’ve been absorbing all of the information I can on the baseball steroid hearings, and I have come to several conclusions after several days of not knowing exactly what I think. Here they are:

  • Until there’s absolute proof that a player took steroids, he remains eligible for the Hall of Fame and retains his records. There’s a lot of hubbub about Mark McGwire, and I believe he probably did juice up, but you can’t convict the guy in the court of public opinion.
  • McGwire has said before that he didn’t use steroids. He really should have said it before Congress. But he didn’t. Just sad.
  • If there is absolute proof that a player took steroids, the records should remain, but the Hall of Fame should not be an option any more. If you cheated, you don’t go in. Sadly, I think this keeps Barry Bonds out, and steroids or no, I think he’s one of the best to ever play the game. But I don’t buy the “I didn’t know I was using illegal substances” bit at all.
  • I think the records remain because we have no idea just what effect the steroids had, and baseball should have had a reasonable system for policing the drug use. If you suspect a pitcher is cheating, you go out and inspect the mound. By failing to test for steroids, baseball turned a blind eye to the cheating as it was happening. The Oakland A’s aren’t going to be asked to forfeit all games in which Jason Giambi turned in a monster performance, so Giambi shouldn’t be asked to turn in his MVP.
  • Bud Selig is the devil.
  • Congress is a sack of shit. Singling out some of these guys but not others is just lame, and every bit of the testimony I have heard on NPR makes this sound like McCarthy-style witch-hunting. And the sanctimoniousness of the Congressmen involved is galling, when you consider the rampant corruption in our government and our legislative body’s disregard for self-regulation.
  • I am ready for some on-field stories. I’m ready for some positive news. And I am ready for some Braves baseball.

J.J. Redick: A Life In Verse

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Dook guard and all-around gnat J.J. Redick has selected some of his poems for Sports Illustrated. It makes me pretty confident that when I apply to grad school, he’ll be in my first workshop class.

Check them out. Brilliant.

The Super Bowl… Live!

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As promised… I’m blogging all through the Super Bowl. So, refresh your browsers every few minutes for in-depth analysis of what’s happening in and around the game:

  • 6:28 PM: Isn’t it great that they got three past presidents to the game… George H.W. Bush, Bill Clinton, and Michael Douglas?

  • 6:30 PM: Andy Reid: “I hope those planes overhead belong to us…”
  • 6:35 PM: How patronizing is it that the Patriots are rubbing the head of the kid who was tossing the coin? And what is the deal with all the cross-team hugs at the toss? I want COMBAT, people!
  • 6:40 PM: Our first commercial of the game… and it’s Bud Light’s “skydiving spot.” Looking good, and then followed by the most BORING spot in Super Bowl history… contact lenses.
  • 6:52 PM: Several days after being called a “genius” by ESPN (in a story whose graphic displayed him side by side with Einstein), Bill Belichik returns to the wrong bench. It’s clear that this man’s intellect is unparalleled.
  • 7:02 PM: The GoDaddy spot where the silicon-laden chick has a wardrobe malfunction is pretty hot, huh? I mean, I REALLY THOUGHT her top might come off!
  • 7:07 PM: Is Andy Reid ordering out with that thing in his hands? Because, I swear I saw “cheeseburger” listed on his laminated “playbook.”
  • 7:10 PM: My early prediction… the Eagles are certain to win. Already, officiating has gotten them through three rough spots– a fumble, an interception in the end zone, and TO’s insistence that Nicolette Sheridan should be allowed on the field with the rest of the Eagles’ captains.
  • 7:12 PM: Um, forget about the officials helping out with the interceptions near the end zones. Rodney Harrison may be injured, but he probably hurt himself laughing at how easy it was to pick off two passes in a row.
  • 7:32 PM: Aside from one decent catch and a funny commercial with Burt Reynolds and a bear, nothing remotely intersting has happened in 20 minutes. Good times.
  • 7:33 PM: Eagles touchdown. Still, see entry for 7:32 PM.
  • 7:38 PM: Is the inaction figure guy being jerked off by his inaction figure mother?
  • 7:45 PM: Bill Belichik must be endorse by Sure, because he keeps his hands raised behind his head, and there’s not a sweat stain in sight. Smooth.
  • 7:48 PM: After Jevon Kearse dry-humped Tom Brady, Darwin Walker did a nice job of being 20 yards away from the pile-up before the refs noticed that he had the ball and had already begun celebrating.
  • 7:58 PM: Dennis Rodman scrubbing himself down in the tub is a sight that is going to haunt me for quite some time.
  • 8:00 PM: Pats WR David Givens catches a touchdown in his fifth straight playoff game, and in his celebration, attempts to turn himself into a swan and fly away. Failing, he tries to make it look like he was just flexing.
  • 8:10 PM: It’s halftime. I will abstain from blogging through halftime, for fear that I will say something snarky about Paul McCartney’s jowls.
  • 8:11 PM: I lied. BEN FUCKING MOSER was on the local Fox 50 spots. As a hilarious metal singer.
  • 8:22 PM: Oh my God! Paul McCartney just showed a tit!
  • 8:50 PM: I have a craving for some Tabasco.
  • 8:54 PM: It’s funny, you can see Terrell Owens flinch every time he’s about to be tackled by the guy who has “Gay” written across the back of his unform. That’s his name, T.O.
  • 9:13 PM: Great commercial in which Kid Rock is shrunk to the size of his penis.
  • 9:16 PM: Whoa, when did it get to be 14-14?
  • 9:46 PM: Donovan McNabb tosses another one to the guys in white, and I declare the game officially over. I declared it officially boring about 20 minutes ago, but now the clock-milking begins.
  • 9:49 PM: Is Cris Collinsworth trying to show off his pants, or his manhood?
  • 10:03 PM: 1:48 left and it’s now a three-point game. Now, we get into my favorite part of every Super Bowl– the final two minutes. Because usually teams score like 13 times in the last two minutes, which is funny, because they don’t do jack for the first 58 minutes. I’m still going with my official declaration of game over, Pats win, but at least we can see the last embers of hope snuffed out in the Eagles’ eyes.
  • 10:12 PM: Please don’t tie this game up in regulation. Either win it or lose it. I have to drive 45 minutes to get home.
  • 10:15 PM: Game over. But what is the deal with the “I’m a swan” thing?

Good times, good times. I’m going home.

Betrayal

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You know, there is nothing in this world so awful as finding out that a friend betrayed you.

Take for example my college roommate, who even went so far as to call me a couple days ago to ask if I was watching the UNC/Maryland game, where “our” alma mater blew out an ACC rival. And then, I’m watching TV last night, and I find out that he’s NOT living in New York like he said he was, he’s playing basketball for another ACC school.

Ka-Boom, Goes Your Career

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Anyone else hoping that the pressure-cooker of NYC fame will cause Randy Johnson to explode now that he’s a Yankee? He’s already simmering, it looks like.

Ballin!

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So, let’s talk about sports for a second. The NHL players are talking to the owners again, which is good and makes me think maybe I should start talking to all of my ex-girlfriends again. Wait! No. My ex-girlfriends won’t agree to pay me millions of dollars. (And, in all fairness, no service I provide would be worth it… but arguably, no matter how good a hockey player is, $9 million a season is kinda steep.)

So I’m hopeful that maybe I’ll get to go see some hockey again someday, and maybe it’ll still even be in North Carolina, where the owner claims that he loses less money in a lockout situation than he does when the team is playing. This is the same man who has “promised” that the team will not be folded or re-located. This is a man who maybe doesn’t like to make money. I don’t get how you can write off a business loss on your taxes… it seems like that promotes bad business practices. But hey, when I file my 1040 every year, I do it. I just never claim to be a very successful businessman.

But the NHL is not the news that thrills me, baby… I’ve officially become remotely interested in NBA hoops again. I’ve adopted the Charlotte Bobcats as my new favorite team, primarily on the basis of their box scores. I have yet to see the team play, and I love them! Previous to this season, I could not have told you a damn thing about this motley cast, and some NBA pundits (if they have pundits in professional sports, which I maintain they do) said they could challenge the record for fewest wins in a season. And they’re 4-10!

Emeka Okafor has six straight double-doubles for a team that was not supposed to be able to score more than twelve points a game and was reputedly going to suit up Bono if the roster got more thin! I love it! No high school kid will win Rookie of the Year this year! It’s all you, Emeka All-Star-Afor!

The team seems fluid and versatile! They’re not awesome, but they seem to play a tough defensive game and they get scoring from a lot of places– Melvin Ely, Keith Bogans, Steve Smith, Gerald Wallace, Jason Hart, Jason Kapono, Alexander the Great, Davis Love III and Marlon Wayans have all scored in double digits for the Bobcats this season. Coach Bernie Bickerstaff seems to have convinced his group of nobody-wants-yas that they have the ability to hang with anyone and actually beat anyone below .500 or the New York Knicks (who will invariably end the season below .500).

I might be getting NBA fever again! Baseball is infected by steroids, following football means having to look at Peyton Manning’s forehead, and hockey is sooooo dead right now! So, if you need to get me that perfect Christmas gift, I don’t think it would be hard to visualize me ballin in the hood wearing a Bron-Bron jersey, right?

What a World…. sigh

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Man, seems like nothing is private any more. Jason Giambi’s grand jury testimony, which is supposed to be a secret, was leaked and now the Yankees think they have a silver bullet in his bloated, misguided contract. Barry Bonds is implicated, claims he didn’t know that clear was a steroid. (And I’m like the only one who was left who really kinda believed he wasn’t juiced.) But even worse, some woman went and filed a lawsuit, and now we all know (and will shout it out loud)…

Jose Lima has the herp!

ew.

The Secret History of MJ

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For a couple of years now, I’ve been hearing the following words as encouragement: “You don’t start out good at everything. Michael Jordan didn’t even make the varsity basketball team his first year in high school.”

I’ve spent thousands of hours and hundreds of thousands of dollars researching that fact, and what I’ve uncovered is shocking: Michael Jordan is a vindictive son of a bitch.

It’s true that Jordan did not make the cut as a sophomore. Jordan attended Wilmington’s Laney High School, where at first he failed to make the varsity basketball team. Instead, Laney’s basketball coach, Clifton “Pop” Herring, decided that Michael Jordan could improve his skills with more playing time on the junior varsity team. Then 5 ft 11 in tall, Jordan averaged 25 points per game with the JV team. Though Jordan now claims that being cut wasn’t a bad thing, and that it spurred him on to work harder, the awful truth is that Jordan immediately pledged that he would avenge the humiliation of being assigned to the JV squad, writing in a journal that the varsity team and coaches would “pay” for his humiliation.

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Figure 1– Jordan’s 10th grade journal

As he became hugely successful at UNC and later in the NBA, winning six titles with the Chicago Bulls, Jordan never forgot his vow. Tracing the fates of the players and coaches of that year’s varsity squad at Laney reveals that Jordan has meticulously and ruthlessly punished each and every one of them in some way over the years.

Here’s what became of the team that Michael Jordan couldn’t make:

Starting point guard Jeremy Burris was considered the best player at Laney in his senior year, and was recruited by several colleges, including UNLV and Arkansas A&M. He averaged 3.2 ppg in his college career, which was cut short when he injured his knee in a 1982 pickup game that Jordan reputedly attended. Burris worked as a sales representative for the Washington Wizards until Jordan bought an interest in the team and fired his whole department, claiming sluggish sales and a lack of motivation. A year later, Jordan donned a Wizards uniform and the Wiz immediately sold out every home game for the rest of the season.

Shooting guard Patrick Lake attended UNC-CH and majored in Geography. He graduated and got a job with the North Carolina DOT as a surveyor, making $22,500 yearly. Citing feelings of worthlessness, he committed suicide when he saw that Geography majors had the highest average income of all UNC-CH majors, at roughly $700,000 a year. That figure may be misleading: Jordan is the most visible graduate of the Geography department.

Brandon Chenowith was Laney’s top rebounder as a small forward. He now lives in Chapel Hill, where he was a waiter at Jordan’s restaurant, 23, until the business failed.

Power forward Kirk Hamrick has gone through six brutal divorces. In each, Hamrick’s grounds for divorce were “she kept calling me Michael when we was in the bedroom. I don’t know no Michael.” Inez Rodriguez Hamrick later revealed that she had been paid a hefty sum to marry and divorce Hamrick by a shadowy figure who “always sat in a leather office chair with his back to me, smoking.”

6′8″ center Kelvin Wright attempted to impress his then-girlfriend Sherry by dunking basketballs in the school gymnasium. Jordan leapfrogged him for an even-more-impressive dunk, causing Wright permanent spinal damage. He now sells Tyson Chandler t-shirts from a wheelchair outside the United Center in Chicago, IL.

Sixth man DaJuan Harper, whose trademark was sticking out his tongue while shooting free throws, entered the military after graduation. While serving in the Persian Gulf in 1990, he told platoon-mates that he had originated the tongue-out style that Jordan made famous. Harper was later left behind by his platoon and captured in Kuwait, where Iraqi forces cut out his tongue before releasing him. His captain at the time was Noel “Fluffy” Cartwright, a distant cousin of Bulls center Bill Cartwright.

Reserve guards Eddie and Joe McGillicutty went into film after graduating from UCLA. They served as gaffer and best boy, respectively, on the Lil Bow Wow film “Like Mike.” They later sued Bow Wow and the film’s producers for repeated harassment and threatening phone calls, claiming that the diminutive star would call at all hours of the night asking “who is most like Mike, you bitches?” The two still live together in Los Angeles but have been unable to find work since the lawsuit.

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Lil Bow Wow: “Who’s like Mike now?”

Reserve forward Jerry Carton’s heart was never in basketball; he was a baseball player. Drafted by the Texas Rangers in the 87th round of the 1979 amateur draft, Carton was 102-121 in 19 minor-league seasons. In 1994, while playing for the Knoxville Smokies, Carton received word that a callup was imminent. Scheduled to pitch that night against the Birmingham Barons, he gave up 31 runs, including a home run and a two-run double to Michael Jordan. He was never called up to the major leagues.

Assistant coach Fred Lynch is now the head coach at Laney. “Michael told me talk to [then head coach Clifton "Pop"] Herring, get him to change his mind,” says Lynch. “You know, let Michael on varsity. I told him no, and he said to me, ‘This is your last chance. When I am famous as the best basketball player in the world and fabulously wealthy from a lucrative contract with the Chicago Bulls, as well as numerous endorsements, I will pay you handsomely for the opportunity. Defy me, and you will spend the rest of your days in this shithole high school.’ I’m still here.”

Coach Clifton “Pop” Herring disappeared in 1997. While the police investigation ended with no suspects, Herring’s wife Matilda claims Herring was abducted by the Monstarrs and/or New Jersey Nets center Shawn Bradley, all of whom co-starred with Jordan in “Space Jam.” “I’m pretty sure he was eaten,” says Mrs. Herring. “Our dog Pepper found the largest bones in the back yard a few months later, and I just cried and cried. I don’t think Michael would get his hands dirty getting revenge on my poor, sweet Pop, but I bet he put that nasty Shawn Bradley and the Monstarrs up to it.”

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Bradley could not be reached for comment, but he has known ties to Mafia-owned steakhouses.

While Jordan denies seeking revenge and claims that the journal entry is an “obvious fake,” his image has been tarnished in recent years by a failed comeback, gambling debt, and the sacrifice of three of Craig Ehlo’s infant children to the devil. Jordan lives in Chicago, and is preparing for a career in the NHL.

Great Names in Sports

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