Catching up...

Quick Thoughts while trying to catch up on everything I’ve

missed in the past nine days...

Geez, I really can pick the days to go on vacation, can’t I? Not like I’ve missed much in the past week and a half in the world of Boston sports (or even sports in general, for that matter).

I left for a business conference on Saturday morning. I had originally planned to bring my new laptop with me (which, in retrospect, I should have done) in order to stay in touch with the outside world and keep posting on here, but I changed my mind Friday night while packing. I suppose it all worked out in the end, since I wouldn’t have been able to being as many bags on the original flight, and would have been in serious trouble if I’d been forced to travel for ten days without clothes.

So I left on Saturday morning, Providence -> Chicago (O’Hare) -> San Diego for a three-day conference on the wonderful world of Medical Simulation. Pretty good conference, to be honest. Unfortunately, it required me to fly during the Patriots/Broncos tilt on Saturday night, meaning that I would be unable to watch a Patriots’ playoff game in it’s entirety for the first time since January 1999. Coincidentally, that was the last playoff game that the Patriots did not win (a 25-10 shellacking by the Jacksonville Jaguars). I did not like the similarities.

As I boarded in Chicago heading to San Diego, the first quarter was drawing to a close as the Broncos were driving into Patriots’ territory. Just before takeoff, the woman in front of me got a phone call to tell her that the Pats’ had just executed a great goal-line stand to keep the score at 0-0 (she was a big fan too). I was thrilled with the news, almost expecting to land four hours later and find that the Patriots had won by 10.

Oops.

Almost instantaneously after we touched down on the left coast and I turned on my cell phone, I got a stored text message.

“Be glad you missed that game. Worst Pats playoff game ever. Ugh.”

I was no longer dying from the anticipation of finding an airport bar for SportsCenter highlights.

After checking into the hotel (and having my “quotable” highlight of my entire week), I stopped in at the hotel bar and watched the debacle that had unfolded just hours earlier.

Did the Patriots play well enough to win the game? No way. Did they shoot themselves in the foot with stupid penalties and ridiculous turnovers? Yup. Did the refs job them over a couple of times with calls (or non-calls) that were absolute game changers? You betcha. Did I have any reason to pick the Broncos to upset the freight train that was barreling at them in the form of the Pittsburgh Steelers? No way (although I still did. Oops again.)

It seems weird watching football in the postseason without having the Pats involved. Almost seems meaningless to me. Although if you think there’s any chance I’m missing the Super Bowl, you’d be sorely mistaken. I think I’ll treat this Super Bowl in the same manner as Super Bowl XXXVII – Tampa Bay over Oakland. I’ll be drinking, heavily, and staring blankly at a football field littered with players I hardly know.

(This is probably a good time to admit that last Thursday morning, I picked the Broncos (-3) and the Seahawks (-4.5), using the lines at The Mirage. For the first time though, I actually was at The Mirage to see the lines in person. That was pretty cool. And it puts me at 7-3 thus far in the postseason. OK, back to the post…)

I’d love to comment on the demise of the Colts (honestly – who didn’t see that coming?), or the ascension of the Seahawks (absolutely DOMINANT on Sunday), or the complete collapse of the Bears (no reason to have lost with 21 points from the offense). But unfortunately, I watched about 3 quarters of their games combined, so I’m not really up to par.

As for baseball… I have no idea what to make of the whole “Theo’s Back!” situation. First of all – Theo never left. From all accounts, Theo Epstein was the architect of the Renteria and Beckett trades, working from the back room with Jed Hoyer and Ben Cherington to get the deals done. He certainly had a hand in the current Coco Crisp debacle (more in a second), and yet the Red Sox see no reason to re-introduce Theo to the general public with a press conference.

As Dale Arnold so astutely put it this morning, “You don’t think they’re afraid of what might be asked at a press conference? C’mon – this organization holds a press conference to announce a new roll of toilet paper in the bathroom stall. They had a press conference to explain why they didn’t re-sign Johnny Damon”.

By not holding a press conference and instead choosing to announce Theo’s “return” in a printed statement, the Red Sox’ front office looks like they’re trying to duck the questions about Theo’s original departure. Which they are. But to hide behind a thin sheet of paper rather than come out, face the cameras and answer questions just seems like they’re afraid of what might be said.

No organization in baseball, with the possibly exceptions of the Yankees and Dodgers, is more media savvy. This ownership knows how to use the media to their advantage, rather than the previous administration (John Harrington and Dan Duquette), who treated media members like live grenades – better to keep a distance and handle them with kid gloves than take a chance of letting them get too close to you.

Now, coming back to the current deal with Cleveland… let me tell you something. I flew through Cleveland (among other places…) on my return from Vegas to Providence. I could not find a single Cleveland-ite (whatever…) who was not absolutely giddy about this deal, and that’s not a good sign.

Coco Crisp is a decent center fielder, and a pretty good top of the lineup guy. But he struggled in his last attempt at hitting leadoff, and he is compared to Johnny Damon as “not quite as good in the field with a slight upgrade in arm strength”. Personally, I believe that any fully functional human over the age of 8 is a slight upgrade in arm strength over Johnny Damon, so I’m not counting that as a positive. Downgrading the defense in center means more ground for Manny to cover (yikes!) as well as Trot Nixon, who can be penciled in for about 35 games on the DL every year at this point.

Not to mention that what the Sox are giving up (Andy Marte, Guillermo Mota and Kelly Shoppach) doesn’t quite match up with what they get in return (Crisp, David Riske and Josh Bard).

Look at it this way. The Sox are basically trading Edgar Renteria, $9M, Mota (the only insurance on Keith Foulke, and the only reason I eventually liked the Beckett trade) and Shoppach (no great loss) to get back a mediocre center fielder, a third-tier relief pitcher, and a journeyman backup catcher. They already signed a journeyman backup catcher in John Flaherty, they have plenty of lousy relievers (Julian Tavares and Rudy Seanez come to mind), and they need better than mediocre in center.

Don’t get me wrong – if they could get Crisp and not have to give up as much as they are, I’d be OK with it. But in three years, the Sox are going to be dying for a third baseman like Marte (maybe sooner, if Mike Lowell doesn’t return to form), and if Keith Foulke is the same player he was last season, would you trust Mike Timlin in the ninth inning of a close game with two men on base? At least Mota has experience as a successful closer. To me, Bard & Shoppach are a wash, so I could care less about them.

Sorry, you’re not convincing me that this is a good thing for Boston. Too many people in Cleveland are excited about it. Cleveland fans don’t get excited too often – they’ve learned not to get over-hyped, not with their sporting history. When that many fans with Chief Wahoo shirts, jackets, and hats start salivating over the thoughts of a trade, it’s a bad thing for whichever team happens to be involved.

I’d love to bring you in on my excursion to Las Vegas, but those psychological wounds are still far too fresh. Let’s leave it at this – I have never had a worse stretch of luck in my life. From gambling, to eating out, to the plane trip back, to the jackass at the long-term parking lot – everything I touched went to shit. Period.

As far as the gambling in Vegas… Combined, in seven days, I either put all of my money into a pot or called when someone else had all of his or her money in the pot exactly three times when I was not ahead in the hand. I won one of those three hands. Of the approximately 50 other times that I was in an “all-in” situation and started out ahead, four times I won the hand.

And that’s how my week went. People, it got so bad that I regressed all the way back to trying to play a system at a roulette table, and even willingly put money into a slot machine. I just couldn’t do anything right. I was the “bubble boy” – one spot short of cashing in a poker tournament – in six different tourneys. I only played in ten, and never cashed in one.

I give up – no Vegas for at least six months. I’m putting myself on Vegas probation.

Quote of the Week

Courtesy of my smart-ass attitude after flying for 13 hours last Saturday, coupled with the stuck up woman standing in line waiting for a bus at the airport…

Me: (speaking to an entire group) “Excuse me, is this the line for the Sheraton Shuttle?”

Woman: (apparently speaking for the group) “Look, it’s only right there (points to the top of the hotel, about 2 miles away). Why don’t you just walk?”

Me: (pretty pissed, and without missing a beat) “Ma’am, look at me. There are a lot of things I could do in life. But walking 2 miles to a hotel in a strange city that I’ve never been in, while carrying three suitcases and a poster case totaling about 115 pounds, after flying for 13 hours with two knees that are about to explode… no, that’s not something I plan on doing. Now, can anyone else tell me if this is the line for the Sheraton Shuttle?”

Random guy in the crowd: (giggling, trying to avoid the death stare from the woman) “Actually, it’s right there (points about ten feet to the right).”

Me: (with a gigantic grin on my face) “Thank you sir. That certainly seemed like a difficult answer.”

I’ll be back later this week or early next week with my breakdown of the hot stove season to date (what else am I going to talk about), as well as some winners and losers from baseball’s second season, before giving my Super Bowl pick.

Lata.

posted by Big D @ 1:11 PM