I had but one disappointment last night, as the Yankees won the 2009 World Series in front of their home fans in their new ballpark. And that disappointment was with the person who decided that the song to play as the Yankees dogpiled on each other at the mound was "We Are The Champions" by Queen.
"W.A.T.C." belongs to the era of embarrassingly literal music lyrics that was the 80s. The aughts are almost over, person making music decisions at Yankee Stadium! If you aren't going to get with them now, you never will. This is the song that should have scored the moment.
With Johnny Damon and the Yanks stealing Game 4 last night after it appeared to be lost, there is one common theme running through the sports commentariat vis a vis this World Series: its over, folks.
They rely, as baseball men are wont to do, on the massive backlog of statistical data at their disposal. Teams that lead the World Series 3-1 have won 36 of 42 such matchups. No team has come back from 3-1 since the Kansas City Royals in 1985, 24 years ago. No team has come back from 3-1 while winning games 6 and 7 on the road, as the Phillies must now do, since the 1979 Pirates (yes, the Pirates were once in the World Series! And won it!)
But this seems like alot of chickens are being counted before they've hatched. Or, in the parlance of the Suze, "Chickens!! Chickens everywhere!!!" A 7 game series is not over until one of the teams has won 4 games. Here are 5 reasons for the Phillies to hope that team might be them.
1. Cliff Lee
If the stats on 3-1 series are grim, the stats on 3-2 series are less so. I don't actually know what they are, but they have to be, right? And Cliff Lee's total pwnage of the Yankees in Game 1 should give every Philly fan plenty of reason to believe this series will be headed back to New York.
2. Ryan Howard
He is 3 for 17 (.176) with 0 home runs, 1 RBI, 1 run, 0 walks, and 10 strikeouts. He is too good a player for this to continue for the entire series. Ryan Howard's bat will have a thing or two to say before this is over.
3. The Yankees bullpen
Here are the stats for Yankee relievers not named Mariano Rivera in this World Series:
4.5 IP, 6 ER, 12.0 ERA, 2 HR
Here is why it is about to become much more important: every Yankee starter from here on out, including 37-year-old Andy Pettitte, will be throwing on short rest. If the series goes 7, then we will see the soft, fleshy underbelly of the Yankees bullpen for at least 6 more innings this postseason.
4. These things have a way of balancing themselves out
A protruding camera turns an A-Rod double into a 2-run home run. Johnny Damon steals two bases on a single pitch. Two huge, flukey plays that helped swing two games in Philadelphia to the Yankees side. That door can swing both ways. I don't know what might happen, but stay tuned.
5. Okay, okay, it has to be said: the Yankees blew the 2004 ALCS with a 3-1 lead
Now excuse me while I throw myself down an elevator shaft.
Jim is a lifelong Phillies fan. I'm a lifelong Yankees fan. If the Yankees win, Jim must furnish me with one (1) Philadelphia cheesesteak from Pat's King Of Steaks. If the Phillies win, I must furnish him with twelve (12) Kolache Factory kolaches, variety TBD. Also included is a minimum of one (1) year of bragging rights, in which the winner may declare that the sports team from his area is superior to the sports team from the loser's area.
2. CC Sabathia vs. Philly cheesesteaks
CC Sabathia will start games 1, 4, and 7 in this series. The Phillies will need to beat him at least once. So far this postseason, CC is 3-0 with a 1.18 ERA in three starts.
However, as has also been thoroughly documented here, CC Sabathia is a huge fat man. If Philadelphia fans are smart, he should open his walk-in mailbox this morning and find that it is filled with dozens and dozens of piping hot Philadelphia cheesesteaks. You probably won't be able to do too much damage for game 1, but if you play your cards right, by game 4 he should be over 400 pounds and unable to breathe under his own power.
3. Nick Swisher vs. my goddamned patience
Yes, Nick Swisher, my goddamned patience has heard all about what a great clubhouse guy you are, and how everybody loves you, and what you do for team chemistry. But my goddamned patience has also seen your .125 batting average and 1 RBI in 9 playoff games, including your popup with the bases loaded to end Game 5 of the ALCS. And you know what? My goddamned patience has had just about enough.
4. Alex Rodriguez vs. Alex Rodriguez
Based on what I've heard in the media and absolutely no research, here are A-Rod's states from previous postseasons: .000 BA, 0 HR, 0 RBI, 145 strikeouts, and 7 baby seals clubbed to death. During this postseason: 1.000 BA, 45 HR, 204 RBI, 3 kittens rescued from burning buildings, and he also gave it to Kate Hudson during the 7th inning stretch of Game 2 while everybody stood and cheered. So which one will show up in the World Series? Hide your baby seals, just in case.
John Sterling has been the radio voice of the New York Yankees since I can remember. It wasn't until I was in college, however, until I realized how terrible he was.
You can't really blame him. If you've ever listened to a Yankees broadcast, there is nothing quite like it. Every single thing that happens in the game has a sponsorship that Sterling has to read. The first pitch is brought to you by Geico. The first hit is brought to you by Entergy. The third inning is the Triple Play Inning, brought to you by the Comcast Triple Play package, where if the Yankees turn a triple play, one lucky listener will get free Comcast service for a year. Sometimes he doesn't get around to reading this one until there is already an out, rendering the possibility of a triple play impossible. And so on.
But he also does it to himself. Much like Victor Martinez's personalized handshakes for every player, John Sterling has a personalized home run call for every player. When Jeter hits one, Sterling shouts: "EL CAPITAN!" When Robinson Cano hits one, he cries: "Robbie Cano! Dontcha know!" Melky Cabrera gets "The Melkman delivers!" And Alex Rodriguez gets, "An A-bomb! From A-Rod!"
So he can be forgiven for screwing up once in awhile. But less forgivable is shouting out, "It's an A-bomb!" after a homer hit by Hideki Matsui. You know, the guy from Japan. A-bomb. Japan. A-bomb. Japan. Why does that ring a bell?
And if you think that's bad, just wait for the 5 full seconds of awkward, awkward silence that follows.
As Opening Day 2009 approaches, I've come to a realization: its never been less fun to root for the New York Yankees.
It starts, for me, with the stadium. I've always rejected arguments that it is unfair for the Yankees to have more resources and spend more money than other teams. But when the Yankees build a new stadium and the cost of a ticket quadruples in the middle of a recession in the city where that recession started, well... I can see where somebody might have a problem with that. Now, instead of real Yankees fans going to the games, we'll having nothing but front running tourist douchebags.
And then the Yankees go out on the free agent market and spend $165 million on a free agent pitcher (CC Sabathia) after refusing last season to trade for another pitcher who is better (Johan Santana) because they didn't want to part with players who are now struggling to get out of the minors (Phil Hughes, Ian Kennedy, and Melky Cabrera), well... that's just a big frustrating. Oh, I meant bit frustrating. Sorry, I've been having alot of Freudian slips lately, because that pitcher we spent all that money on happens to weigh 300 pounds. Yes, a pitcher who is fat enough to qualify for medical disability is our opening day starter!
Oh, and while all this was going on, the Yankees somehow failed to sign Manny Ramirez, despite the fact that it would have ripped the hearts out of every Boston fan, and made their lineup the most powerful force in the universe, narrowly edging out gravity. Have I mentioned its been a frustrating off-season?
And speaking of off-seasons! How about that AJ Burnett signing? Funny story - he's only won 15 games or more once, can't stay on the field, and the only team he ever dominated? The Yankees! Except he can't pitch against the Yankees anymore, because HE IS ON THE YANKEES.
I'm okay with the Yankees finishing third in their own division. I understand that you can't win the World Series every year, and even making the playoffs every year is unsustainable. But don't take a dump on my plate and call it dessert, Yankees. I know a shit sandwich when I see one.
Because if there was, I would bet my life savings on "A-Roid".
The Alex Rodriguez steroid story is a Rorschach test. If you don't like him, then you see this as confirmation of everything you already thought. If you are an A-Rod apologist, then you'll find a way to apologize for this to. But the surprise and shock - SHOCK - that a prolific home run hitter from the last 15 years tested positive for steroids at some point in his career is bordering on ridiculous.
Go no further than ESPN. Like a Southern belle suffering from a case of the vapors, Buster Olney declares that Rodriguez, who was supposed to rescue baseball's record books the steroid inflated numbers of Bonds, McGwire, and Sosa, is now hopelessly tainted and will be locked out of the Hall of Fame with the rest of them.
Rodriguez signed with the Rangers in 2001 to the richest contract in baseball history. Texas has previously been home to such confirmed or suspected steroids users as Rafael Palmeiro, Jose Canseco, Sammy Sosa, and Ivan Rodriguez. The Rangers were, and perhaps still are, the biggest hotbed for steroids outside of the Bay Area. Surrounded by dopers, under incredible pressure from the contract he signed, and saddled with the desire to please everyone that makes him so incredibly annoying, he experimented with steroids. To what extent, nobody knows but Rodriguez.
Since testing has been instituted in 2004, A-Rod has been tested for steroids along with everybody else and has passed every test. Prior to that season, it isn't just A-Rod that is tainted by steroids. It is every player who hit more than 30 home runs in a season. I find it difficult to pass judgment on A-Rod because we collectively turned a blind eye to the problem of steroids in baseball throughout the previous decade. Steroids were no risk, all reward. We cheered every home run without accountability. How can we be surprised that anyone used them back then? And how can we behave as if we are shocked - SHOCKED - when we find out the truth now?
This is an undoctored screen capture from ESPN.com this morning. Okay, well, the scribble all over it is mine, but the image of CC Sabathia is untouched.
"The deal isn't done, but a source told ESPN.com that there are 'zero major road blocks.' The source went on to add, 'Well, unless CC sits in the middle of the road. That would block it pretty good, AMIRITE?!'"
How, by the way, are the Yankees going to replace Mike Mussina on the pitching staff? Why, by making a six-year, $140 million offer to CC Sabathia, formerly of the Cleveland Indians and Milwaukee Brewers. Why does this worry me?
Because he weighs NEARLY 300 POUNDS. Yes. Read that again. He is a professional athlete, and he's not a football lineman. He is a pitcher. He is expected to run from the mound to first base on ground balls. Actually, scratch that: he's expected to make it from the dugout out to the mound and back at least 5 times a game. At least he's not a reliever. They'd need to set up an oxygen tank halfway between the bullpen and the mound.
Idea for a website: www.thingsthatccsabathiaweighsmorethan.com. Anybody want to help me start that up?
So, the Yankees might be on the hook for $140 million dollars for a guy that looks like he has his locker next to the buffet table. Of course, he hasn't accepted the offer yet:
Mussina's departure doesn't leave the Yankees scampering to replace
him. They made a six-year offer worth $140 million to free agent CC
Sabathia, are heavy into another free-agent hurler, A.J. Burnett, and
have an interest in a third free agent, Derek Lowe. It's believed
Sabathia won't act on the Yankee offer until after Thanksgiving.
He won't accept it until after Thanksgiving? Are they paying him by the pound? Or is his agent just waiting to see whether or not he can fit back into his baseball uniform before deciding whether or not to pursue other offers?
Mark my words: this is going to end in disaster. Although I am looking forward to seeing this entry on the Yankees injury report:
CC Sabathia, NY Yankees, pitcher: Out with being too motherfucking fat.
When you draw a line between the home-grown Yankee dynasty of the late 90s and the parade of all-stars that failed to live up their legacy in the aughts, that line starts at Mike Mussina. He signed an 8-year, $88 million deal after the 2000 season, the year of the last championship. He won 123 games as a Yankee over those 8 years in the regular season, but only 5 in the postseason (in 17 starts).
He was paid ace money, but was never the ace. There was always Roger Clemens or Andy Pettitte or Chien-Ming Wang there to take the ball on opening day, or game 1 of a playoff series. Even his signature performance, a 1-0 shutout victory over Oakland in Game 3 of the 2001 divisional playoffs, is remembered as the Jeter Flip game. Mussina might make the Hall of Fame on the back of his 270 wins, 3.68 career ERA, and 2813 strikeouts, but I don't think I ever felt watching him like I was watching an all-time great.
Mussina never seemed comfortable in the public eye. He was often described by the
New York media as "cerebral" and "thoughtful", which is another way of saying "boring". His biggest media
appearance was when he was featured in Wordplay, the documentary about
crossword puzzle enthusiasts. Compared this to Pedro Martinez, another
future Hall of Famer from his era, who brought a midget into the locker
room as a good luck charm.
But he'll get into the Hall of Fame, because being loud and flashy
isn't a prerequisite for being great. (And yes, I just wanted an excuse to use this picture again.)
I remember Mussina pitching against the Red Sox on September 2nd, 2001. Mike Mussina had retired the first 24 batters in a row - 8 perfect innings. I had missed both Davids, Wells and Cone, throw their perfect games in '98 and '99, but I had a chance to watch one here.
But in the 9th inning, the broadcast showed the strangest graphic. Mike Mussina had already taken a perfect game into the 9th inning before. He'd also taken one into the 8th inning before. He'd also pitched another one-hit, no-walk game earlier in his career. Three performances that were almost perfect games.
Carl Everett broke up the perfect game with 2 outs in the ninth inning. 2 strikes, too. Bloop single into center field. Another one-hitter. Another almost perfect game. And it was only the second hit Carl Everett ever got off of Mussina. It was like he wanted to keep his greatness as below the radar as possible. A perfect game would have been too ostentatious.
That's how Moose played his whole career. Last season was the first time he ever won 20 games in a year, and now he retires, as if to say, "Uh oh, I'm making it too obvious how great I am, I better get out of here before I get to 300 wins." I just wish that more people had realized how great he was while he was here. Myself included.
With Game 5 of the World Series mere hours away, I have good news for Jim, our resident Philadelphia sports fan: I'm rooting for the Tampa Bay Rays. The reason for this good news is a story Jim knows only too well: in the 8th inning of Game 7 of the 2001 World Series, my hubris invoked the wrath of the sports gods. The teams that I root for have been paying the price ever since.
Everyone knows that gambling makes sports more exciting. While a true fan can always appreciate the skill of the athletes involved, adding a few dollars to the mix can add a degree of personal investment that otherwise only comes with years of devoted following. But where a wager can make the most boring athletic matchup exciting, experienced gamblers also know the opposite is true: when your team is involved, you are already emotionally invested. Don't add gambling to the mix. Never, ever gamble when your team is involved.
I'm writing this for you, Jesse. I just wanted you to know, in no uncertain terms, just how politically sophisticated your family truly is. In speaking with your Uncle Bernie this evening about the upcoming election, he proceeded to tell me that there was a guy in the supermarket wearing an obviously pro-Obama tee shirt. It had a picture of Sarah Palin on the front with an X through her picture and than a "Vote for Obama" slogan on the back. Being the open minded individual that he is, he told me that if he were only 10 years younger, he would have shoved that tee shirt right up that guy's ass. Now that would be something you don't see every day.
Now Jesse my dear, you know I don't care too much for Barack (in Jewish circles in Florida, the 80 and up crowd think it's Baruch) but even I wouldn't go that far. Shoving tee shirts up people's asses is way beyond my commitment to politics.
Okay, rooting may be kind of a strong word. But as a Yankee fan, shouldn't I be rooting for nothing short of utter, humiliating defeat of the Red Sox, followed by the revelation that Big Papi is a steroids user, Josh Beckett is a wife-beater, and then all that followed by a meteor strike that wipes Boston off the face of the earth?
Well, yes. In a way, that's what I am rooting for. See, the Red Sox losing to the Tampa Bay Rays would be fine. But what if the Red Sox got to the World Series... only to lose to Joe Torre, Manny Ramirez, and the Los Angeles Dodgers?
Old school Yankee fans will tell me I can't root for the Dodgers. I'm supposed to hate them too. Well guess what, old school Yankee fans? I was born in 1981. I could care less how many times the Yankees and the Dodgers played in the World Series in the 1950s. I'm over it. Today, I am all about the Dodgers.
"The Yankees stopped playing more than a week ago and yet their season keeps getting worse. "
"The Yanks still might have to deal with this World Series: the Red Sox
vs. the Joe Torre Dodgers. That will make the attack of midges that
helped drive them from the playoffs last year seem like thousands of
kisses. Who do they root for? The team they hate or the man they hate?"
Uh, Joel? I don't hate Joe Torre. I love Joe Torre. I love him as much as, or possibly more than, one heterosexual man should love another heterosexual man. He didn't choose to leave New York. He wanted to stay. The Yankees and Baby Stein forced him out after 4 World Series wins, 6 American League championships, and 12 straight years of playoff appearances. Joe Torre winning the World Series for LA while the Yankees watch at home is exactly the kind of comeuppance New York and its fickle, fickle fans deserve.
And what better way to vicariously enjoy that vengeance than if he takes it against Boston?
But the vengeance of Torre will be minor compared to the howling wail of despair from Boston when Manny Ramirez hits a walk-off, Series ending home run in Boston, and takes the slowest, sweetest jog around the bases in history...
...that takes him straight into free agency and the waiting arms (and wallet) of the New York Yankees. Oh yes. OH YES IT WILL BE GLORIOUS.
So join me, Yankee fans and Boston haters, in rooting for Boston to reach the World Series - where we all hope that Joe Torre, Manny Ramirez, and the greatest vengeance in baseball history await.
Let's get this out of
the way right from the top: Yankee Stadium is, by almost any measure, a
pretty crappy stadium. One might even go so far as to call it a
A few weeks ago I went to my first game at Minute Maid
Park, nee Enron Field, here in Houston. It is a beautiful facility.
Every seat has a great view of the field, the concourses are spacious,
and the place feels new and clean and bright. Walking through Yankee
Stadium, on the other hand, feels kind of like hanging out in the
basement of a factory. The concourses are dimly lit. Everything is
dark painted concrete. It looks worn down, tired, and old.
why did I spend nearly four hours last night fighting back (very manly)
tears watching the last game that will ever be played on that field?
the Yankees move next door, it will be the near-completion of a
transition the Yankees started after 2001, aka The Greatest World
Series Ever Played (TM). I took for granted how good I had it as a
baseball fan at the end of the 90s. When that team started to break
up, I just assumed that the new generation of players would slide in
and keep the good times rolling. But the new collection of
traveling All-Stars never approached the level of chemistry and
performance that the team assembled at the end of the 90s had. Jason "The
Stache" Giambi and Alex "Frosted Tips and Lip Gloss" Rodriguez
outperform Tino Martinez and Scott Brosius on the stat sheets, but it hasn't translated into rings.
It isn't the post-season
failures that bother me, though. Well, they bother me a little, but
only once have I felt worse after a post-season loss than I did last
night, a regular season victory over the Orioles. What hurts is the realization
that I failed to properly appreciate success when it happened. I
watched exactly 3 minutes of the 1999 World Series. I saw the final
out, and shrugged as the Yankees mobbed each other. The Yanks winning the World Series was the
natural order of things, like Star Wars movies being great or Democrats
in the White House. Why were we getting all excited about it?
now I know the truth: the Yankees will probably win another World
Series in my lifetime, but I will never see another team like the one
from 10 years ago. And one by one, the connections I have to the glory
years are being broken. The Yankees started their run in 1996 as underdogs. Then they became the favorites, and then a dynasty. Now they are hardly even a baseball team anymore. They are a business, moving into their new corporate headquarters across the street.
When the Stadium closed last night, I
was able to hold back my (very manly) tears. God help me when Mariano Rivera retires. I will weep openly.
"...[W]e are sitting a few rows behind a douchebag in a home Mariano jersey
(with name) and a blue "26 time world champions" hat. Underneath the
jersey he is wearing one of those dark blue t-shirts with "Damon 18"
emblazoned on the back in white."
There are plenty of reasons to not be a Yankee fan. The old stadium, steeped, marinated, and barrel-aged in tradition as it is, is kind of a shithole, and the new stadium will require a credit check to get a hot dog. The inflated (and oft-cited) payroll leaves fans and non-fans alike with unreasonable expectations - success is met with a shrug, and failure is met with a hounding chorus of gleeful haters too busy hating on my team to notice or care about the success of their own.
The best, and sometimes only reason to be a Yankee fan is because of the tradition. The pinstripes, the numbers on the outfield wall and the names on the plaques in Monument Park speak to a legacy that few other teams in sports can match. It's fun to follow a team that feels like a truly professional sporting organization, and has a history of success that you can enjoy and feel good about even when the team on the field isn't showing up. And showing up to a game in a jersey with a name on the back, with a Johnny motherfucking Damon T-shirt on underneath, and a 26 time World Champions hat completely misses the point.
You don't need to put his name on the back, because pinstripes + 42 = Mariano Rivera. You don't need a hat that says 26 time World Champions on it. A blue hat with a white interlocking N-Y says it all. And if you were looking for a player to represent the worst of the modern day mercenary athlete, you couldn't do much better than Johnny Damon.
Jim is not even a Yankee fan, but at least he gets it. What the fuck is your problem?
Maybe I'm making too big a deal out of this guy's sartorial crimes, but I think it speaks to the larger problem. Jim continues:
This guy takes
off his jersey and holds it up. He starts seriously headbanging. He
appears on the Jumbotron, achieving his 15 seconds of fame (Warhol got
the units wrong). [...] He [finally] sits, ready to cheer his favorite
Minutes later, Aubrey Huff blasts a solo shot out of the park.
Without hesitation, our subject stands, turns, and exits the stadium. As he passes by, I have but two words: 'Exit Sandman.' "
After 13 straight years of making the playoffs (the longest active stretch in baseball), this year's injury-wracked Yankees team will be watching October baseball from somewhere other than the dugouts. As a spoiled Yankee fan, I'm supposed to be enraged. I'm disappointed, but not enraged. I understand that, $209 million payroll or not, there are 29 other teams vying for a World Championship every year, and only 4 playoff spots in the American League. It was bound to happen eventually. What, did I think that the Yankees were going to make the playoffs every year for the rest of my life?
But this run of success has bloated the Yankee bandwagon to the point where a grown man covers himself head to toe in tacky, overpriced Yankee merchandise just to get noticed, and runs out of the stadium at the first sign of trouble. Because he isn't a real fan.
Listen, douche, wherever you are: if you get to go to Yankee stadium and see the greatest team in professional sports play, and then scurry out of the stadium like a bitch when things go sour, do me a favor next time: make sure you take the millions of other bandwagon fans with you.
7 players who have appeared in All-Star games, and 3 future Hall of Famers changed hands, but that's not what makes it the best trade deadline ever in Major League Baseball.
Only one thing really matters. Yes, the Yankees acquired a Hall of Fame catcher. Yes, the Angels got better and will now win the World Series. Whatever.
The only thing that matters is Manny Ramirez is no longer on the Red Sox. He's gone. Manny being Manny (read: Manny being an immature douche) is over. But more importantly, the utter torment and pain he has inflicted on my precious Yankees has finally ended.
Here is what Manny Ramirez has done against the Yankees for the last 3 years (167 at-bats):
a .407 batting average, a .772 slugging percentage, 17 home runs, 46 RBI, and an on-base percentage of .510. If you project that out to 500 at-bats (a typical season total), that translates into 50 home runs and 140 RBI.
I didn't know those numbers until I looked them up, but I didn't have to. I know from watching the games that ManRam absolutely creams us everytime he plays us, the same way you can tell who is winning a fight without counting punches. One guy looks fine, and the other guy is bleeding from the nose and mouth and part of his ear is missing. The Yankees never came out looking fine.
If I was a Red Sox fan, I would be furious. Manny owns the Yankees so hard, he should change his last name to Steinbrenner. And you gave him away, and along with it any chance to continue to compete with your arch-enemies. Jason Bay? Playa please. He was only an All-Star cause Pittsburgh had to have a representative by rule. You might as well have traded Manny for Pedro's midget.
And now he's gone to the National League, never to be heard from again.
The big weekend in sports that just passed did not go unnoticed here at the new OC headquarters. Some of the highlights:
Everyone is talking about the big Nadal-Federer match, but it seems to me that, in all the rush to declare Nadal the new King of Tennis, everyone is missing the fact that Nadal played the last 3 sets with both hands wrapped around his throat.
- At 0-40 with a chance to break Federer in the 3rd set and put the match away in straights, Federer stormed back for a hold
- At 5-2 in the tiebreak and 2 service points away from the match, Nadal double-faulted to let Federer back in. R-Fed won the tiebreak to force a 5th set.
This match was a couple points away from being the tennis version of the 2004 ALCS. Seems worth mentioning.
Lost in all the hubbub around A-Rod's impending divorce so he can marry an elderly fake Brit (by the way: if Madonna divorces guy Ritchie, who gets custody of her accent?) is the name of his lawyer: Ira M. Elegant.
Madonna's spokesperson, Ursula R. Awesome, was unavailable for comment.
And finally, the MLB All-Star teams were announced. There is always some complaining about who is in and who is out, but this year is a travesty. They need to fix this thing unless they want it to turn into the Pro-Bowl.
- Jason Varitek and his embarrassing .217 average will be there representing the AL. - Miguel "Mitchell Report" Tejada will be there for the NL. - Geovany Soto? Kosuke Fukodome? Doesn't the National League have any real players? No wonder the NL hasn't won an All-Star Game in over 10 years.
But speaking of the Mitchell Report, you know who won't be there unless you vote him in on the Last Man ballot? Jason Giambi. Sure, he's only batting .256, but this isn't about statistics. It's about this.
You've heard of movies that are so bad they're good? This might be the first so-bad-it's-good mustache. Giambi's face is where mustaches go to die. Only this one keeps on going. It's a zombie-stache.