Baseball In The Daytime: 6-14-07

And we're back to Thursday, the temple of time-wasting matinee MLB excitement. I, for one, will fire up the old XM radio and imagine I'm at the ballpark versus stuck behind a desk. Feel free to join me...good seats are still available, and it's Bat Day!

At the excellently early time of 10:10 Mountain, the San Diego Padres serve as foil to the Tampa Bay Devil Rays. The Friars send Justin Germano out to represent their pitching staff, and this kid has been nothing short of a revelation this season. He's 4-0 with a 2.75 ERA, contributing to a staff that already includes Jake Peavy, Chris Young, Greg Maddux, B.F. David Wells and a rippin' bullpen.

As an aside, why do all these California teams have incredible pitching and shitty offenses? The Padres, Dodgers, Angels, A's and Giants are all loaded to some extent with arms but can't get a two-out base hit at gunpoint. Meanwhile, all the Midwestern teams are chock full o' meathead sluggers and tomato-can pitchers. It's called a trade, gentlemen. You West-Coasters hold the most precious commodity in baseball yet you refuse to deal any of it for a bat to field a balanced team. I'm off my soapbox. In news that has nothing to do with good pitching, some guy named JP Howell starts for the D'Rays, on XM 180 (no TV info available).

At 10:35, what may be the day's premier pitcher matchup goes down in Cincinnati: B.F. Bartolo Colon opposes fireballing rookie Homer Bailey. I think these guys should swap names for the day, because Homer's Colon vs. Bartolo Bailey is a cartoon matchup I would pay to see. For reals, though, the kid Bailey showed promise but not polish in his debut last weekend. He's considered one of the best prospects in baseball and the jewel of the Reds' system. Colon is best known for his love of burritos, his dazzling production of head grease, and his career full of under-the-radar efficiency. XM 188 and DTV 734 are your channels.

The eleven o'clock hour delivers the Brewers and Tigers on XM 179, with Sheets and Durbin on the bump. Also, the Diamondbacks continue to offer virgin sacrifices at the altar of Yankee Stadium. Today's lamb is Doug Davis on XM 176 and DTV 736, and the role of butcher goes to Andy Pettitte, who could forget one or more of the t's in his last name and really wouldn't be any worse off.

Noon brings us the Oakland A's and the Houston Astros, with Chad Gaudin opposing Jason Jennings. The 'Stros have been very creative in their losing this season, and yesterday's collapse saw reliever Dan Wheeler shove starter Chris Sampson after Wheeler blew Sampson's lead. Sheesh. Take this one in on XM 183 and DTV 737.

Finally, the Mariners set up shop in front of the Wrigley ivy for the last time this season, sending Jeff Weaver opposite Jason Marquis in a matchup of pathetic pitchers with Cardinals World Series rings. Watch it on WGN and imagine that Harry was alive, or listen on XM 189 and imagine that this team isn't driving Ron Santo into a shallow grave.

Update: I picked up Homer Bailey for a fantasy start today, and of course he's struggling. It's all good, though, because his pitching coach came out for a mound visit in the second. And that pitching coach is named Dick Pole. Good times.

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We Are Hot Chicks Wednesday: Who's The Boss?

Last week I attended an editorial meeting of the House of Georges, and by attended a meeting I mean that I listened to Bankmeister yell at me on the telephone about my shitty writing, lack of quality cursing, and failure to reference the Kansas City Royals in every baseball post. He's a big-time ball buster, that guy. At one point, however, the phone went dead and I thought that either A.) I hadn't paid my bill, or B.) I was dreaming about the finale of The Sopranos.

As it turns out, neither scenario was factual. Banky was still there, he was just transfixed by a certain photo of a certain lady we all know awfully well. Hell, we grew up with her.

With Leather posted about a contest in which Alyssa Milano is going on a "date" with one lucky fan as part of a promotion for her line of women's MLB apparel and, fuck, who really cares? It was just an excuse to run a photo of a Hot Chick in her underwear, and that excuse is now my excuse to run several more:

Alyssa is well known for allowing a staggering number of celebrities to penetrate her various orifices, including the Coreys, marginal hockey player Wayne McBean, and many, many pitchers (Glavine?).

I heard a radio interview with Alyssa a few weeks back in which I learned a few things. One is that she has a freakishly husky voice, so low and guttural that you wonder if she gargles gasoline and broken glass to wash the taste of pitcher cock out of her mouth. Two is that she claims to have never slept with Leinart, that they're "just good, good friends." If true, that's very good for the health of Alyssa's high-risk vagina. You see, Leinart has been linked to the sloppy herpes-ridden trio of Paris, Brittney and Lindsay, in addition to impregnating his college sweetheart. That's gross, gross, gross and irresponsible. Finally, Alyssa claims she dated Brad Penny "on a bet," which would also be good because Brad Penny is a fat hairy pig monster.

But Pavano, she confirmed. Jesus. I wonder if he needed Tommy John surgery after they held hands at dinner.

And so, in review, Alyssa is pretty smokin' hot. And we share a love for baseball, although we manifest that love in wildly dissimilar ways. She's easy on the eyes, even if her voice is more masculine than my own. I just wouldn't fuck her with your dick (Glavine?).

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Baseball In The Daytime: 6-13-07

After a long stretch of no weekday baseball (which happened to coincide with an involuntary "vacation" for yours truly) we're both back in the swing of it today. No, I didn't get arrested (as far as you know).

Batting leadoff today are the White Sox and the Phillies, resuming their interleague series from Citizens Bank Park at 11:05 Mountain. Your starting pitchers are John Danks, bro and Kyle Kendrick, who's making his big league debut. Kendrick is the latest fill-in for the DL-bound Freddy Garcia. My buddy Booze, a big Phillies fan, is hoping that Garcia's injury results in death, as he's not that fond of the righthander. Morbid thoughts aside, you can catch this game on DirecTV Extra Innings Channel 734 and XM 183 (with the incomparable Harry Kalas on the mic, no less).

Furthermore, the fierce intersectional battle that is the Blue Jays and the Giants resumes at 1:35 from some park named after a telecom company. Dustin McGowan goes for the Canadian club, while the United Fucking States of America are represented by a kid named Tim Lincecum. I like Lincecum, but he's desperately in need of a nickname that has nothing whatsoever to do with either semen or that douche bag columnist for the Rocky Mountain News. DTV 735 and XM 185 are your frequencies.

And by the way, congratulations to young Justin Verlander on his no-hitter yesterday. I had absolutely no idea it had happened until I was reading my fantasy baseball matchup (yes, he started for my opponent, the HoG's own Blizzard of Nair), so I was unable to unleash my formidable jinxing powers. Next time, perhaps.

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Tradition Tuesday: Just Weight Until Training Camp

Editor's Note: This post is also featured on the new Broncos blog Predominantly Orange. And yes, that is lazy as sin and a total corporate synergistic douche move. Blow me.

The Broncos' addition of erstwhile Rams defensive lineman Jimmy Kennedy pushes the team's focus there from substantial to borderline silly. If you go back to last week's PO post on the DT position, I'd say Kennedy slots in somewhere beneath projected starters Warren and Adams and Thomas as the talented project, but above journeymen Veal and McKinley. He's got some game (former first-round pick) yet he continuously underperformed for St. Louis (they only required a conditional sixth-rounder for his services).

In his first extensive interview since joining the Broncos, Kennedy blamed his malaise in The Lou on frequent changes in defensive coordinators and schemes, injury and lack of opportunity. He said he saw the writing on the wall when the Rams drafted Adam Carriker in the first round of this year's draft and is happy to be with an organization that appreciates his skill set.

Can someone please find Mr. Kennedy a tissue? I'm sure those years of playing for idiots like Lovie Smith and Jim Haslett, both former Coaches of the Year, were miserable. This is pretty much the standard line we've heard from every vet that's been sucked into Coach Shanahan's vortex--the proof will be in the pudding, and the pudding will be Kennedy's play on the field.

One thing I liked about the Legwold piece was reinforcing the Jim Bates desire for big uglies at the DT position, "occupiers" that in theory create more opportunity for playmakers at linebacker and on the edge rush. At 330, Kennedy can certainly "occupy." But he's also a tremendous athlete who can make plays on his own. Should he buy into the Bates Doctrine I could see a successful marriage of scheme and raw ass-kicking ability.

So welcome to Denver, Jimmy. Don't hang out with any Nuggets just yet, that's a quick way to make the police blotter or worse. Just get to one of the dozens of minicamp OTAs between now and Labor Day and find yourself a spot on that big ol' D-Line.

Second Editor's Note: The term "occupiers" as it pertains to defensive tackles is a registered trademark of the House of Georges and may not be co-opted by Adam Schefter with out the express written consent of our legal counsel, Cecil. And since we can't get Cecil to write a blog post, good luck getting a permission slip, Schef. Although we can work something out in exchange for a few songs at The Opera.

Third Editor's Note: We make no political statement about the situation in the Middle East with the registered trademark "occupiers," either. To paraphrase Muhammad Ali, we ain't got no quarrel with no Al-Qaeda, no Al-Qaeda ever called us crackers, or something. All we care about are football and boobs, and it's offseason for football. Read more

Tradition Tuesday: Keepin' It Real

Editor's Note: The rough focus of this blog is the rivalry between the Kansas City Chiefs (heralded by Bankmeister) and the Denver Broncos (championed by Cecil and Old No. 7). It may seem unfair that it's two vs. one, but once KC gets that second Super Bowl we'll even out the delegation.

Seven years ago we started The Tradition, in which Bronco fans travel out to the Truman Sports Complex with their team, and Chief-lovers return to the Rocky Mountains with theirs. We tailgate, we talk massive amounts of shit, our wives occasionally get assaulted by rival fans, and we almost always watch the visiting team lose. It's a grand old time.

Here at the HoG, we're going to keep The Tradition alive all year long with Tradition Tuesday--a weekly state-of-the-rivalry address.

As I eagerly await Herm's weekly presser, I thought I'd have a look at some of the happenings on our beloved teams' Web sites.

Two years ago, when the Chiefs drafted fullback Boomer Grigsby (no relation to Bill, thank God)out of Illinois State, the administrators of One Arrowhead Drive crafted a plan to have a rookie diary segment on the Internet. And it was neat. The special teamer "dropped by" each week and left entries on an assortment of things: training camp, practice, game time, teammates, etc. The idea gave a non-reporter, non-news-story feel to kcchiefs.com.

Now, I haven't peeked at the site very much since the team ole'd the Colts a pass through the first round of the playoffs, but I don't recall seeing the ol' diary any time recently.

Therefore, I thought it might be interesting to compare Bronco Nation and Chiefs Nation via the teams' respective InterWebs locales.

Over on denverbroncos.com, you can find an abundance of blogging from an array of guys, including players. Yeah. I know. I was surprised, too. And the stuff is well-written, even. Check it out, dear readers. Things like Domonique Foxworth crafting error-free posts on team toughness and, get this, the franchise's hockey team. My favorite part of the post is where he talks about the re-structuring of Denver's defensive line, which, when it produces a pass rush, apparently makes them "look like the best secondary in the world. Which we are," quoth the fox.

Wow. Get a load of yourself there, bud. Let's not start the Champ an' Dre bukkake circle just yet.

Over at the Chiefs' domain, some guy named Brad Kuhbander (who apparently has been with the franchise as long as The Tradition has been around) strolled down memory lane. Ah, yes. Re-living the old Marcus Allen/Joe Montana years. That hasn't been done before. Update: Yes it has. Way too much. And by "way too much," I mean please don't do that again. Ever. He also exerted himself to throw up a three-sentence paragraph that brags -- and conveniently leaves out the five-year absence -- about Donnie Edwards. Savory.

Both sites have the token look-at-us-doing-good-stuff-for-the-community stories, too. The studly-armed duo of Jay Cutler and Patrick Ramsey can be viewed here where the fifth man to replace the man is definitely not drinking an adult beverage. Not at his own golf tourney. Everyone knows that booze is bad, scratch that, evil, stuff. The Chiefs apparently teamed up with my Kansas City Royals in a project called Operation Blessing. Awesome idea, but Dustin Colquitt and Mike Sweeney? Wasn't the idea to save some kids from pain? The punter and the injury-riddled $55 million dollar man, part I? Sheesh. Throw a hungry kid a bone, guys. Oops. I mean, throw a hungry kid a cheeseburger, guys.

As most Web sites do, each of these two offer the ever-popular user poll. Bronco Nation asks its readers which of the two newly-acquired defensive tackles (Jimmy Kennedy or Sam "don't call me Lager" Adams) will help the team most. Personally, I like how the site boasts that the new personnel gives the team three d-line guys at 325 pounds or bigger. My vote tallied as the 9030th. It killed me to participate in a broncos.com activity, but, hey, top-notch journalism requires a regular dose of sacrifice. Anyway, it appears I was thinking like most Bronco lovers -- which scares me more than sharks and snakes combined -- since we comprised 68.2% of those that thought Lager would contribute more. Hell, I just voted for him 'cause I like his ale. Kennedy, at 31.9% could come back strong, I guess. He should probably change his name to something cooler though. Like Jimmy Fallon. Or Johnny Kennedy.

The Chiefs want their fans to predict which wide out will help the most. The obvious choice between Jeff Webb, Chris Hannon (who?), and Dwayne Bowe is the third (18, 5, and 77%, respectively). And that's only because everybody who's anybody wants someone on his team he can call D-Bo. At's my bike, punk!

Both sites also have clever Father's Day ads, and a credit to the intelligence of both franchises, feature very little about their not-that-hip mascots.

There's also an abundance of video footage for viewing pleasure available on both domains. Don't forget to tune in to Broncos tv on Thursday, June 14, from 3-6 p.m. eastern daylight time. It's a must-see segment of John Elway (doesn't that guy sell cars or something?) and footage of Super Bowls XXXII and XXXIII. Those games are way under-covered by regular television. I almost never remember that ol' number seven won those two contests, let alone see the helicopter play highlights of them.

Over on chiefs.com, you can watch the coach and the two remaining quarterbacks get interviewed about the starting quarterback situation in Kansas City. That's some fresh news. I wasn't aware there was a situation.

And that, my friends, is all I have to say about that.

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Everyone's Favorite Storyline

A week or so ago, I dared to compare the current tulip frenzy over the Patriots' offseason maneuvering to the spending binges of the early-aught Redskins. To my surprise, the several permanent members of HoGNation rose up in indignation. Pshaw, said they; no matter what anyone thinks of Belichick or his team, their recent successes dictate that we must merely stand up and applaud no matter what they do.

Well, that's just so much horseshit. I'll admit the Redskins were maybe not the best comparison simply because those teams didn't see *any* real regular season success, but I stand by the rest of my analysis. The Pats made one great acquisition (Adalius Thomas, who simply killed my CSU Rams years ago in the 2000 Liberty Bowl), one very good one (Donte Stallworth, who will give Brady his first true deep threat) and a few mildly interesting ones (Wes Welker, Kelley Washington and Randy Moss).

I lump Randay in the "mildly interesting" category because, no matter what anyone says about the healing power of Tom Brady's schlong, he just isn't the player he used to be. Everyone's excited about him in the slot, they say. Huh. Yeah. Randy really loves going over the middle. Even when he was with the Vikes he didn't go over the middle.

So all of a sudden we're supposed to believe that, just because he moved from a hopeless situation to a winner, he's going to be Moss circa '98?

Hardly. Lest we forget, Randy played on winners. His '98 team went 15-1 and got canned by a vastly inferior Falcons squad. He went to the NFC Championship game again a few years later and showed such heart that his team, which needed a huge game from him on the road, lost 41-0.

Randy is a front-runner without any killer instinct. He's the football version of "Mr. May." (Sorry for including you in this, Mr. Winfield, I still think you were great). I can see him outjumping some Buffalo Bills for touchdowns early in the season, getting the hilariously excitable Boston media afroth...and then disappearing right when he's needed, aka the playoffs.

What brought my bile up? Today's column by--you guessed it--Peter King, which breathlessly detailed the way New England would send its bevy of wideouts flying past befuddled secondaries, all of which will, apparently, be staffed by TecMo Bowl robots playing base defenses. The site actually changed the initial headline, which was something along the lines of "Patriots will Be Impossible to Stop" to "hard to stop," perhaps realizing that they shouldn't let copy editors indulge in the same variety of man-love homerism that King claims as his specialty.

This is why real football fans despise this part of the offseason: because everyone looks like an All-Pro without pads on. Every catch is proof that someone is the perfect fit, every catch of a breath proof that someone is a bust.

I'm not saying the Pats won't be good. Clearly they will be, barring massive unforeseen setbacks (which never, ever, ever happen), but come the fuck on. Can we get some reportage on a team west of the Ohio?

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The LeBrons

Our Lone Reader adopted the Cleveland Cavaliers as his team for this postseason--and presumably afterward, we dunno. His stated reason: Bron-Bron and the boys aren't merely a one man gig and play hard, team-oriented basketball.

I'll give you the "plays hard" part. But the Cavs are the single biggest one-man show outside of Los Angeles. When LeBron doesn't take over, they generally don't stand a chance. Remove him and you've got a try-hard lottery team.

(And this is, by no means, any knock on the kid's talent. He's clearly the real deal, even if, and I choke to write this, Bill Simmons correctly pointed out that his 48 pointer versus Detroit was great, but not in any league with, say, Magic opening in the pivot in the '80 Finals versus Philadelphia and racking up the following line: 42 points, 15 rebounds, 7 assists.)

Like tonight. Look at the guys on the floor right now--Anderson Varejao, Daniel Gibson, Donyell Marshall, Damon Jones and Bron-Bron. Behind LeBron, you have a few 10 pointer type efforts from Pavlovic, Gooden and Gibson, but that's a playoff fraud.

The basketball-watchin' element of the HoG has long held that these Cavaliers, and their Vaccaro-ordained superstar, are all hat and no cowboy. All hominy, no grits. Leaving aside the vast inferiority of the East--which, let's just admit, we can't really do--the Cavs have so far played a less-than-impressive slate. And don't start with "they beat the Pistons" because, even though I picked Detroit to win, that obviously wasn't the Larry Brown group that won the title a few years back. Rasheed was disintegrating, no one was playing team defense...No, that wasn't a title contender. That was a team coached by a grown man named Flip.

So, I'm pleased to announce, my toss-off pick of the Spurs is looking better and better, 103-92, Riverwalk Prickly Pear Margaritas over the Flaming Rivers of Toxic Filth. Go choke on a Milk Bone, Cleveland. This Denver fan doesn't feel your pain.

(That may have been petty, but eh.) Read more