Welcome to the Buzz-saw.

If you are remotely in step with sports blogging and sports writing, you’ve probably heard about the idiocy that transpired on HBO a few nights ago. Essentially, Bob Costas and Buzz Bissinger ganged up on Will Leitch with a fair amount of fury and venom. In their view, Costas and Bissinger are the ‘old guard’ and Leitch is an irresponsible douchebag who says what he wants without accountability! And that type stuff just does not go down smooth in Costas Bissinger land.

Lost in all of this is the real point. This isn’t really about highly skilled professionals who want to preserve the integrity and standards of their holy profession.

This is about money and this is about fear.

See, the pros like Costas and Bissinger, and Murray Chass and on and on, hate bloggers not because they think they are sucky writers, although I’m sure they do think that, because when you make up your mind that you hate something, you don’t really care what the truth is. No, the point is that the pros feel threatened.

Forget about sports for a minute, let’s pretend you were a chef. Let’s say you were a highly trained chef, the kind of guy who studied at Le Cordon Bleu, and apprenticed at the elbow of Willibald Reinbach, and you worked really hard, and you got a job that paid you handsomely for your creations.

You worked at the finest restaurant in town, and you made a good living, and people told you that your food was sublime, and everyone wanted to eat at your restaurant, and you won awards for Excellence in Cheffery. It was good times for you, because for some reason, only professionally trained chefs were allowed to cook for people. Let’s say that only professionally trained chefs could have access to the kitchens and ingredients, and most importantly diners.

Then one day, something changed. Now anyone could open a restaurant and in droves, people who simply loved to cook did. These new restauranteers were not like you. Many of them didn’t have formal training. Some of them were really food poisoningly shitty, some of them were mediocre, and some of them were just as good as you, some even better, and…and here’s the catch, many of them were willing to cook for people for FREE. They didn’t expect a salary to cook for people. They just loved cooking and wanted to share their cooking with other people.

Meanwhile you’re pulling down your six or seven figure salary, and you’re starting to notice a buzz, you’re noticing that some of your regulars aren’t as regular as they once were. Oh, you’re still packing the house, but the line outside is a little shorter maybe. Across the street at Amatuer’s Cafe, they’re giving shit away.

How would you feel?

You’d feel threatened as fuck. And that’s why Bob Costas, and Buzz Bissinger, and Murray Chass hate bloggers, because bloggers do what they do, and very often they are willing to do it gratis. And Murray Costas Bissinger Chass, is Afraid that someday his employers are going to figure this out. And then, ‘oh shit!’ what is he going to do to pay the rent?

For a long time, I believed that the “old guard” would always have an advantage over the unwashed masses because of access. Being a pro gets you press credentials, and press credentials get you acess to the real newsmakers. But I think that’s starting to break down; enterprising bloggers will find a way around that, they will find access on their own and if you don’t believe me, read Bronx Banter, or any of Will Carrol’s stuff.

The democratization of media is one of the most interesting things that’s happened in the history of society, (the other most interesting thing is the willingness of american parents to tart up their daughters to sell shitty pop songs,) and it’s really just getting it’s legs. If I were Murray Chass, or Bob Costas or Buzz Bissinger, I’d be scared too. Because things ain’t what they used to be, but that’s the way of the world, and shouting at a guy on national television just because you can, is pathetic.

Finally, the arrogance of many sportswriters is absurd, when you consider that their job is essentially to write articles about grown men playing kids games. The fact that they act like theirs is such a reverant mission is bizarre to me. But what the fuck do I know? I’m just an idiot with a blog. And a journalism degree.

A Dark Sunny Day

It’s sunny and brisk here in Chicago this morning, and my mood regarding the Yankees is depressed. I don’t see any latent firepower, I see Posada and A-Rod on the DL. I think that Jeter is hurt, either that or he’s insane. He’s gotten so hackish that it’s close to enraging.

I don’t think this team has another gear. I think this is a .550 team. Wang and Chamberlain may be the best things we have to look forward to for the next 5 months. Ugh. Maybe Melky a little too.

Phil, Yer Up

Let’s liveblog Phil Hughes start tonight shall we?

If you’re just joining I’m Schteeve and I’ll be doing play-by-play, to my right is curmudgeonly yet lovable Dutch Peters with the color.

Hughes is in a spot of trouble early in this one having surrendered a 6 pitch walk to Curtis “The Sparkplug” Granderson, followed by a single by Placido Polanco.

Phil gets the first out of the inning by whiffing Gary Sheffield but it goes from bad to worse as he now has to face Magglio Ordonez. Dutch you’re an ex big league pitcher, what is going through Hughes’ mind right now.

Dutch: *Hic*

Right you are! Well, four batter in, and Phil Hughes finds himself down 2-0. After a wild pitch allowed Granderson and Polanco to move to second and third respectively, Magglio plates them both with a single to shallow center.

Dutch: The kid’s a bum! *Hic!*

Interesting perspective Dutch, but we’ll have to pick that up next half inning, cause the kid just got the other kid, Meee-gel Cabrera to ground into a double play. Hey he woulda fit right in on the Pinstripers! I kid. We’ll be back after this.

Dutch: Wheres my cigar box, dammit!?

Bottom 1

You all know the old baseball saying, “ya got to know when to hold them.” Well Kenny Rogers is holding a baseball and he’s ready to get things going! Johnny Damon strikes out looking and I don’t think he liked the call. Dutch do you…

Dutch: Fucking umpires are all COMMIES!

…You said it! Wow Dutch you’re a pistol. So with one down, here’s Derek Jet…check that, Derek Jeter apparently wanted to give his time in the batters box to Bobby Abreu so he chose to surrender his…what’s that? Oh…Oh I see. He didn’t actually forfeit his at bat, he just swung at the first pitch again, and grounded out to the pitcher.

In any case, Abreu has worked the count full. They say Bobby Abreu is a great two strike hitter, they also say he’s afraid of the wall. Dutch, who do you believe?

Dutch: John McCain! *hic*

Well, we can talk politics later, but here in baseball land, Bobby Abreu just singled to right. And that brings up Hideki Matsui, the Pride of Japan.

Dutch: I used to know a girl named The Pride of Japan, she could….

ALLLRIGHT! Save that one for later Dutch. Matsui is what they call a professional hitter. Dutch what does that mean?

Dutch: It means they pay the asshole!

It certainly does, and speaking of that Kenny Rogers has to pay, because he just gave up a hit to Matsui and both the runners advance on an error by Jacque Jones.

Dutch: What the fuck kinda name is Jacque??

I’m not sure big fella, but Jason Giambi thinks ‘Kenny Rogers’ is Spanish for Cy Young, as he flies out meekly to right. That’s it for the New Yorkers, we’ll be back in a bit!

Top 2

And we’re back! Phil Hughes is too, and he just got Carlos Guillen to ground out to second after a 7 pitch at bat. On the bright side, Dutch, Edgar Renteria flew out to right on the first pitch he saw. Phil should remember to send him a thank you note, don’t you think Dutch?

Dutch: I never say thank you!

Well you’re welcome anyway! As a matter of fact you’re welcome to stop drinking any minute now. I kid. Back to the action, Hughes is pitching to “Pudge” Rodriguez.

Dutch: If I were called “Pudge” I’da been on the fuckin juice too!

Good point old timer, “Juice,” I mean “Pudge” singles to right and that brings up Jones. Dutch, Jones has a .292 OBP don’t you think Phil Hughes should just go right after him here?

Dutch: I don’t know what the fuck Oh-Bee-Pee is you sissy!

Of course you don’t, and neither does Jones as Hughes strikes him out looking. Back after a few words!

Bottom 2

Welcome back! The score is 2-0 Detroit, and Kenny Rogers is “dealin’” to Shelley Duncan.

Dutch: Shelley?? Does she have nice tits? *hic*

No but HE has a nice eye. Rogers kept trying to get him out away, and Duncan kept fouling them off, and eventually drew the walk. And that will bring up, Phil from Accounts Payable? Oh, sorry, check that, it’s actually Morgan Ensberg, and he is a professional baseball player. Did not know that, thanks to our crack research department. Ensberg flies out to deep left field, and that brings up the pride of San Pedro de Marcoris, Robinson Cano.

Dutch: I used to know a girl named Marcoris!

Alright Dutch that’s enough, you’re incorrigible.

Dutch: What, I was just gonna say she was a nun.

Well ok, that’s very nice.

Dutch: She was a nun until she met me in a Best Western in Iowa! HA!

What a lovely story, Robinson Cano hits one high and deep in the air to right! Way back! And Lay Down Sally, we’ve got ourselves a ball contest! Tie game 2-2!

Dutch: I wonder if I kept her phone number?

Maybe you can look for it later Dutch, in the meantime, any observations about the home run by Cano?

Dutch: He spanked that ball like it was the neighbor’s kid!

I’m trying to be good.

I’m trying not to leave the negative posts up too long.

Anyway, another big start for Phil Hughes, and another cold rainy evening. Not only that but with Melky, Posada, and A-Rod out of the lineup, Phil better try to be good too.

People are Stupid.

Never forget that. I just read a comment at another blog that I won’t name but it rhymes with “Buzz Hotching” and the comment was something along the lines of,

“Posada said the other day that he won’t play first base. That was selfish, and as a result I’ve lost all respect for Posada.”

My reaction that comment is this: Are you fucking out of your fucking fucking mind?

First, what Posada said was, “I’m not playing first base, I’m a catcher, we have seven firstbasemen.”

I think his point there was, you could make an argument that everybody on this fucking team would be better off at firstbase. Seriously, Matsui, Damon, Posada, Jeter, Giambi, Duncan, Ensberg, Betemit all of those dudes could/can/should play first base. It’s the Yankee blog solution for every player with diminished defensive skills. Let’s stick him at first base! Of course then, they couldn’t complain that Giambi is a butcher out there, but I’m sure they’d find something else to complain about.

Anyways.

On to the “Posada is selfish” bullshit. Posada if you remember, was almost in tears when he made that comment. He was upset to the point of TEARS. Probably because he just signed a $52 million contract to play baseball and now he can’t and he doesn’t know why. So ease the fuck off the guy. I just lost all the respect for you, anonymous Yankee blog reader.

Gah!

A Hot Mess.

After the roadtrip from hell, the Yanks have underperformed their log5 projections by about 1.4 wins, according to SG at RLYW. First off, I should point out, that I have no idea what that means. I think it means they are slightly less good than a computer deep inside Mount Rushmore thought they would be, and that’s ok. Given the fact that they’ve had numerous injuries to key offensive weapons, and borderline abysmal starts by Hughes and Kennedy, I’m actually shocked that they’re only and game and a half behind their projection.

A successful season will hinge on the answer to the following questions:
-Will guys get healthy and stay healthy?
-Will Cano play closer to his projections moving forward?
-Will Giambi’s recent uptick continue?
-Will Jeter add at least a little bit of SLG to his game?
-Will Mussina continue his usefulness?
-Will Farnsworth?
-Will Hughes and Kennedy start pitching meaningfully better?

I think that’s the season right there.

Yankees Should Definitely Cut Giambi and Eat His Contract

Right?

But they should also cut Jeter, Abreu, Cano and Posada, cause he’s out OPSing all of them.

A wet little tease.

I was lucky to get a pair of tickets to the Yanks - Sox game last night. As I headed down to the southside with my friend Amy, I was honestly as excited about this game as any I had been to in a long time. It was going to be my first time seeing Phil Hughes and potentially Joba in person.

I wanted Hughes to do well so badly, and for two innings, he did. And then, the rains came, and when they finally took the tarp off the field, Ross Ohlendorf was on the mound. So I got to see 2 encouraging innings from Hughes, and then nothing.

Well not exactly, other things I got to see was the bullpen getting roughed up, some nice baserunning by Giambi, and Joba getting touched up by the Sox.

All in all, a disappointing evening, but what’s that saying? “Even bad sex is pretty good.” I think the same holds true for a trip to the ballpark.

Swing and a Miss

This article is about the Yankees pitching problems and it’s pretty boring. But it says this:

Mussina has generated swinging strikes 11 times this year on 319 pitches. That’s five percent of strikes. At his peak, his rate was over three times that and it was 13 percent as recently as 2006. Last year, it was nine percent.

Well, so what? I mean is there anything great about swinging strike percentage? I guess it’s sexy or something but Wang is at 4% and Kennedy is at 8%, and Pettitte is at like 9%. Does swinging strike percentage correlate to anything in particular, or is this just some sort of cherry picking expedition gone awry?

A patient man is never lost.

I have a terrible sense of direction. I’ve lived in Chicago for 6 years, and I very often have only a vague sense of where I am when I venture out of my neighborhood.

This past weekend, my fiance and I were walking our dog, and we took a long meandering route through some of the old neighborhoods on the north side.

A few moments after we crossed a large thoroughfare, I asked my fiance sheepishly, “um, what street was that?” She looked at me patiently, yet incredulously, “Irving Park, honey.” Ten minutes later as we walked down a sunny tree lined street, I spied another major street ahead, “Is that Irving Park again,” I asked.

“Western,” she sighed. “If I ever want to get rid of you, I’ll just drive you three blocks from the house and drop you off,” she joked. We then did an improv skit of me shivering on a corner looking lost and forlorn.

That sense of fear and at-a-lossness, is how I think many of us Yankee fans feel right now.

Don’t believe me, check the blogs. Replacement Level wants to know if Giambi is cooked.

NoMaas, is worried about Posada, and looking forward to the WNBA.

I don’t even want to know what’s going on over at WasWatching.

As for me, I think back to my navigational skills. See, in reality, I think my sense of direction is fine. Ultimately, I know what direction I need to go in to get where I’m going, and eventually, I know I’ll figure out a route to my destination. I feel the same about the Yankees, it’s gonna take a while, guys need to get healthier, Phil and Ian need to learn how to pitch in the bigs, the offense’s luck is bound to change. I suspect, that by the time the playoffs start, we’ll be hand wringing over the rotation, and who’s gonna start game two.

Right?

Right?