Lineup Against The Wall: Kansas City Royals

Hey, another day, another soon-to-be-forgotten regular feature! Welcome to Lineup Against The Wall (I know, it's horrible, please send suggestions), where we'll take a look at the offensive capabilities of every most a few teams I feel like talking about.

We'll get to the playoff contenders as well as the Yankees soon enough, but first we must engage in a little affirmative action. That's right, it's a forced discussion about the Royals to pander to our legion of Kauffmanite readers. I'm just kidding, Kansas City. I actually like your club this year. The managerial hire was excellent, you got roid cheat Jose Guillen on the cheap, and your young hitters are promising. When I'm in Arizona later this month I may actually attend one of your games (Editor's Note: Blatant lie.).

So follow me, recovering George Brett freaks, to the 2008 Royals one through nine...

First of all I must note that my lineups for this series are Proposed. In some cases I'll use full-squad spring training lineups, in others I'll rely on always-accurate Interwebs research, and in still others I'll just make 'em up. Don't worry if Mike Sweeney is missing, he actually doesn't play for your team any more.

1. David DeJesus CF
2. Mark Grudzielanek 2B
3. Mark Teahen LF
4. Jose Guillen RF
5. Billy Butler DH
6. Alex Gordon 3B
7. Ross Gload 1B
8. John Buck C
9. Tony Pena Jr. SS

Just a warning, kids--there's a legitimate chance that Ross Gload could start the season batting third. Thanks to Guillen's pending suspension and the fact that Teahen is really not very good, the veteran Gload may drop into the 3-hole for a while. Now any baseball fan will tell you that that's not a good thing. Gload in your 3-hole is actually a symptom of syphilis, but it also signals that you're not ready for the American League.

But things could brighten significantly with a little luck. Guillen could return and rake. Butler and Gordon could turn into stars. They could make Butler a first baseman, and find another DH. Teahen and DeJesus could quit trying to justify their hype--they never will--and mature as professional hitters. There's nothing wrong with working a few counts, thinking about situations, and settling on the 15 home runs you're clearly capable of, guys. You'll never hit 30.

Those are pipe-dream what-ifs, however. Realistically, the Royals could make their mark if new skipper Trey Hillman decides to run and run and run. I don't care if that's not his style. I don't care if DeJesus and TPJ aren't as fast as Jose Reyes or Michael Bourn. Send 'em. Run Gordon and Guillen if the scenario dictates. Take a page from Mike Scoscia, who runs everyone all the time. Don't wait around for the home run that almost certainly is not coming.

This team has a chance to score 800-plus runs. That's five a game, y'all, a bunch more than the 706 they plated last year to finish next-to-last in the AL. A couple of guys will have to have career years, they'll have to be creative and gin up a run a game through good baserunning, but the possibility is there. Combine that with another pipe dream, a sub-5.00 ERA, and you could find a .500 ballclub in downtown Kansas City. I know they play out on the side of the highway, I'm just saying that from time to time they surely congregate downtown. Maybe I'm wrong.

Update: Those are the new powder blue alternate jerseys your Royals will sport from time to time. I'm a fan of the concept, but they ought to have left the script on the front white, outlined in Royal blue (like the numbers and name on the back already are). It would look more like the old gear, but updated. I also can not fucking believe that they're wearing these shirts with white pants. Ghetto...
Read more

Vernon Gholston is Using Steroids. Repeat.

Vernon Gholston ran a 4.67 at the combine with a 35.5 vertical leap. That's pretty good, yes? A couple of days ago, at Ohio State's Pro Day, he ran a 4.58 40 and jumped 42 inches in the air. 42 inches!

(For those of you who've read Peter Schrager's bit on Fox Sports and noticed a certain similarity of opinion, drop your clubs and douse the torches. Not done yet.)

That's even better. So much better, actually, that there's gotta be something else going on.

Other writers may dance around the subject, but we here at the HoG don't mince words. Or meat. Or pies. Or any combo thereof. We keep the talk straight as the whiskey. Thus, we logically arrive at steroids.

Or HGH. Or south Russian camel fertility potions. Lox with milk and butter and Stanozolol. Whatever it was, Vern did it. How the fuck else do you knock a full second off your 40 time in two weeks? And gain 7 inches on your high jump?

Stinks to high heaven, but hey--the guy was Big 10 Defensive Player of the Year, and if he drops to #12, you'd best believe I'd be hollering for the Broncos to snatch him and his box of chemicals. Not that it'll happen--this recent bit of obvious drug use has helped raise Gholston's stock to the position where a buncha doucheboxes think he might have to worry about being drafted into Parcells' Miami loser mafia.



Read more

The HoG One-Year Anniversary Presents "Things We Actually Covered Well": Part One, Baseball

Yes, folks. That's right. Before this second full week of March 2008 comes to a close, the House of Georges will be one year old. Hard to believe. For us even. Twelve months, countless hours at the desktops, and 520 posts later, we've managed to keep this thing rumbling. So, yeah. Happy Birthday to us, and all that crap.

In the midst of all the hookers and cocaine wholesome celebrating and continued efforts at delivering staunch journalism, we're going to insert the good ol' college try at the year's re-cap. If you troll through the archives, dear reader -- and I highly recommend doing so -- one can make the discovery that the HoG spent countless cyber hours of last year covering America's pastime. And it was worth every second. Kind of. Skip past the jump and decide whether or not you agree.

It's no secret that Old No. 7 was the Iron Triangle's baseball guru last year. He spent more time poring over stats and watching/listening to broadcast innings than Cecil and I combined by a long shot. Thus, it's no wonder that he'll dominate the credit roll in this anniversarial installment.

In March, ONS kicked things off in true pre-season fashion with his famous American League West, American League Central, and American League East previews. The amazing part, of course, was that it was done without any bias, foresight, or intuition, whatsoever. Just straight shots in the dark. Too bad he ended up being so damn right. Assface.

Never to fear, upon return from his spring training venture, he gave the NL its due nod; it came in the form of these posts. And they were about as spot on as his AL predictions. Except for the fact that they weren't. But, you know what they say: NL, NFC...who flippin' cares? April's coverage of the diamond stormed on, though, with coverage, of, shocker, Seven's favorite club, and mentions of extraordinary efforts on the mound, which brought us into May, a momentous month, indeed.

I finally joined the baseball gig in the third month of HoG existence, with, shocker, coverage of my favorite club. Problem there was that I don't actually know anything about baseball. So I left it to the experts,



for the most part.

May gave us, among many things, the birth of "Baseball in the Daytime." According to my math (Editor's Note: My math is something you should never trust at face value), the HoG readership was blessed with six regular installments, and one Federal Holiday Edition of BitD. It also gave us more pitching commentary, and perhaps a Red Sox World Series preview, all of which carried us into that blissful June.

This merry month gave us ten more installments of BitD, a dandy of an MLB draft preview, an insider's look at college ball, a totally unbiased take on cheaters/overrated Hispanics (Note: Or underrated, depending on with whom you side), a live GameBlog, which tickled the nephews of both Cecil and Seven, a rather back country take on Royals baseball, and, last but not least, Baseball in the Dadtime, a collaboration between Cecil and myself.

July, of course, brought us into the thick of baseball. With it came ten more installments of BitD, another holiday installment, a Cec-arian politico-economic take on baseball ( with heated commentary), mid-season report cards on the AL West, Central, East, as well as the NL West, Central, and East, each of which featured guest interviewees. Also in July, the HoG delivered an All-Star game preview, a little more bumpkinball, and another collaboration between Cecil and I. Needless to say, it was a busy month of baseball. Never fear, however, the HoG steamrolled right into August with more dayBall than ever before, and some nightBall, too.

With the regular season inching toward an end, the HoG delivered 19 BitD installments, and threw in a surprise episode of baseball in the nighttime. In addition to all that, there was more Roy to be had, and another solo Cecil baseball musing.

But we weren't done yet. I know. And, we're a football-based blog, right? Well, whatever. September, was equally busy. Still one more federal holiday edition, flanked by nine regular installments of BitD, a Cialis-laden stiffy over playoff baseball being around the corner, and of course, celebration/preview of the one-game playoff non-playoff game that was to be.

All of this work, of course, led us to that great bullpen in the sky, October baseball. This of course was launched, and perhaps capped, with the mega-output, 37-post marathon that would become known as "Let's Play 163." It also gave us two installments of October BitD, a never-to-be-missed/overlooked stab at the Yankees, World Series coverage of games one and two, (Note: The series, in case you forgot, pitted Seven's two favoritish teams against one another, a situation with which he allegedly had no problem), and then our beloved baseball guru was off to the mile-high city to take in some October baseball in the nighttime from the ol' live perspective, which left us only with the bitter words of Cecil, to cover the bitter end.

And, well, we were wiped out. So we took November off. From baseball, that is. Actually, who are we kidding? We took substantial portions of the entire winter off. Cecil, however, did throw out some baseball, HoG-style in December, here and here.

We found January, to be, er, uh...mildly uneventful, so we saved this goodie and this one, too, for February. And of course there's this absolute gem, as well.

And there you have it, kids. An entire year of HoG baseball highlights, brought to you, whether you like it or not, by the House of Georges anniversary committee. Read more

Marlon McCree Is An Ol' Dirty Bastard

Cecil mentioned it yesterday, but I thought it deserved its own post. The Broncos added a couple safeties to the free agent haul, notably former Charger Marlon McCree. When San Diego dumped him, I had a strong feeling that he'd end up in Denver. While he'll certainly help at the team's single biggest area of need, I've always had the feeling that McCree is a dirty player.

So when he signed this weekend, I did my due diligence to catalog the litany of fines, suspensions and angry opponents that Dirty Old Marlon has left in his wake. Problem is that litany doesn't exist (Editor's note: Actually, it does. See below.) I found a few message boards with people bitching about McCree, but their evidence was as specious as mine: they simply had this vague notion that McCree was a headhunter. Besides, people that post on message boards are fucking morons, even more so than people that blog about sports. And that's a scientific fact.

So Dirty Old Marlon may not be so dirty, and the Broncos' shopping spree may actually be one of the shrewdest in the land. Rap sheets and moronic analysis after the jump...

McCree once took T.J. Houshmanzadeh's head off before the ball arrived. He was flagged for pass interference but the league declined to assess any further punishment. This is probably because Houshamazilly is an Islamic fundamentalist, embedded deep in a terrorist sleeper cell with a goal of killing the president. These efforts have been thwarted by two facts: one, the Bengals don't play in games that any president would want to attend and two, Marlon McCree is secretly employed by the CIA. Super-patriotic, but God damned dirty:

In Marty Schottenheimer's last game, Marlon McCree intercepted a Tom Brady pass that would have sealed the victory--except Dirty Old Marlon did not simply fall to the turf. He stupidly tried to advance the ball, Troy Brown stripped it, the Pats recovered, and you know the rest. Dumb, hot-doggy, but not dirty (no video).

In the playoffs this season, as Peyton Manning drove down the field for a potential winning touchdown, Reggie Wayne was open on third-and-long. Peyton got the ball there, Reggie got his hands on it, and then Dirty Old Marlon laid the wood to the collarbone of Mr. Wayne. One more crappy pass attempt and the Colts' title defense was over. I say nicely done:

So hey, maybe Marlon McCree wasn't such a bad signing. Maybe he just has a knack for making big plays at big times and knocking people the fuck out. All I know is that if he can ease John Lynch ever-so-gently off the playing field, he'll have served his country and the CIA can buy him a gold watch.

And combine the deals McCree, Niko and Boss Bailey received, you're still probably south of what the Raiders gave Javon Walker. I say probably because Denver is supremely assholish about releasing salary numbers like it's some kind of classified secret. The O-line got no help (Jake Scott went to Tennessee, Jacob Bell to the Rams and Pork Chop Womack to Boston Market) and the receiving spots are thin, but all in all I feel good about the club pre-draft. We may not go 6-10 after all.

Update: I take it all back. Dirty Old Marlon is indeed a soulless decapitating villain. And you know who tipped me off? Message board morons.
Read more

The Land of Linkin'

Because it's Sunday, and I'm lazy, and kinda hammered, here are some links to fun and intriguing facts about some of our favorite sporting clubs. As well as other shit.

What's up with the Chefs in the offseason? Clearing vets for a 1-15 year?

What's this? NFL.com editor/writer Vic Carucci doesn't think Sedrick Ellis will be drafted in the first round? Don't huff and mock, pal. Don't huff and mock.

Don't despair, o flanneled obesity in Rock Springs trailer park--you're already making steps.

The Broncos sign not one, but two journeyman safeties. (Although I know that McCree can still play--at least, as long as he's playing against our starters. Maybe we can petition the NFL.)

Those fiery Canucks at Great Blue North Draft Report dive onto the Vernon Gholston bandwagon before it hits the afterburners. To recap what you probably didn't click: that's a 270-pound Defensive End running a faster time--albeit in friendly conditions--than Mario Manningham did in two tries at the combine. Holy Gazillion dollar rookie deal, Vern!

Nothing sports related here, but if you don't know already, you're behind the times...

Here, either--you have to watch this 5 times for the payoff.

He may be cranky, he may have some mysterious dislike of Randy Gradishar, but you have to hand it Paul Zimmerman for pulling the cloak from Saint Favre.

This is pretty rough, too.

I can't believe that Tatum Bell didn't seize the day in Detroit. Just can't.

Beloved local furniture salesperson in hospital, city prepares for worst.

Stealing a link from those hacks at Hashmarks, but only because it's solid.


Read more

The Hater Rater: March 2008 Edition

Few things in the world are as dumb as power rankings for NFL football. As old curmudgeons like Paul Zimmerman remind us, that's why we play the games. It's what separates the pro game from the beauty pageant joke played on college campuses.

I'll never stoop to a cheap page-filling trick like a power ranking, but I can, however, rate the teams in the league on one key criteria: How much they bug the shit out of me. My reasons don't have to make sense, I can hate a team just because, say Dan Snyder owns them. Best of all, everyone can play this game. Feel free to leave your rankings in the comments, and maybe one day we can turn Hater Rater into an actual poll.

But probably not, because I hate tasks nearly as much as I hate the Indianapolis Colts. Damn it, I just revealed my No. 1 squad. For the rest, dear reader, turn the page...

1. Indianapolis. They cover all the bases: Overexposure, grating fans, and they win every single big game against my club. If any team ever needed a locker-room herpes outbreak, this is it.
2. Pittsburgh. Even though things are looking up, we'll need many more of those old Steelers to croak (suggestion) to move them down the list.
3. San Diego.
4. Kansas City
5. Oakland
6. New England. I know everyone has the Pats higher, but the Shanahan owns Belichick like Dungy owns Shanahan.
7. Jacksonville
8. Miami
9. Buffalo
10. Seattle. The token NFC team could have been the Cowboys, or the Giants, or the Niners, or the Skins, but I went with the erstwhile member of the old AFC West.

Others receiving votes: Dallas, NY Giants, San Francisco, Washington, Baltimore, Green Bay.

Teams I could probably never include: Cleveland, Atlanta, NY Jets.
Read more

Meet The New Boss

There are things in life that you wish would happen, but deep down you know they never will. Like Led Zeppelin touring again. I had resigned myself to the fact that it would never, ever happen, but lo and behold, here we are (maybe).

The Bailey Brothers playing for the Broncos was another. Of course I've loved the Champ Era in Denver, he's one of the best football players I've ever witnessed. But my desire to reunite the ex-Georgia Bulldawg brethren goes deeper than sheer gridiron talent. Their names are Champ and Boss. And now both will patrol the defense of your Denver Broncos.

There's no word if the other Baileys (Ace, Buddy, Sport, Pal, Chief, Dude, Sparky, Bub, Killer, Tiger, Bro, Buster, Pardner, Captain, Hoss, Tex, Slim, Slugger and Tough Guy) are willing to sign free agent contracts. Although if they do make visits, it must be known that they need to make hotel reservations.

I'll just let the joy from this momentous occasion sink in, and let the questions I have wait until later. Like, will Boss start at strongside? Will D.J. move to weak? Will Niko really man the middle every down? Will these guys play in the kicking game?

And most important, how will their jerseys be lettered? Will Boss continue to don the 97 he wore in Detroit? I think linebackers wearing numbers in the 90s look bad ass. And most important, will the brothers Bailey adopt initials for their first names? Because that would suck.

My wife has a custom #24 jersey that says "Champ" on the back. If I didn't carry a huge hex that made the wearer of any jersey I purchased instantly blow out his knee, I might do the same with a Boss. Instead I'll just snag one of these bad boys:

Read more