There’s a starman waiting in the sky.  He’d like to come and meet us, but he thinks he’d blow our minds.  -David Bowie

After seeing the above preview for the Bill Lee documentary SPACEMAN: A Baseball Odyssey, my mind began to wander.  It began to wander to a simpler place in time.  It began to wander to when you could get still get baseball cards for a dime.  It began to wanter to when Bill Lee was in his junk ball prime.  Aaah Bill Lee, prophet in his own mind.  Bill “the Spaceman” Lee, my favorite baseball player of all time.     

Okay, okay, okay.  When I was little, ok?  When I was little, around the corner from my house, ok?  Around the corner from my house, the Red Sox owned this house, ok?  The Red sox owned this house where players lived for the season.  Danny Cater lived there one year, I remember.  Barely.  But what I definitely do remember is:  Bill Lee lived there one year too.

Now, that same year, I was about thirteen.  Spike Lee remembers it as the Summer of Sam.  I remember it as the summer of Bucky Dent.  My brothers and I went to every home weekend game.  Every home weekend game.  There were no advanced sale bleachers back then.  There was no assigned seating in the no advanced sale bleachers back then.  First come, first serve.  The American way.

Okay, okay, okay.  Ya.  Bill Lee.  Bill Lee lived around the corner from me.  Gameday, from his house, the Spaceman would run to the ballpark.  Me and my brothers would get on the 57 bus.  Get on the 57 bus in Watertown Square.  Get on the 57 bus into Fenway.  We’d see Bill Lee running to the game.  We’d scream out the window at him.  The whole way.

We tried to make it in time for batting practice.  When Lee would get into the outfield for a catch, we’d come down to the bullpen fence and scream at him some more.  Scream through our popcorn holder megaphones.  He’d throw us a ball sometimes.  I was thirteen.  At that point in time, there was no debating who my favorite player was.  And, not for nothing, he shoulda pitched that game instead of Torrez.  At thirteen, I knew it.  I still know it now. The Bald Headed Gerbil shoulda knowned it too.

Peace out homies.  Six two and even!

We live we die.  We laugh and we cry.  We know not why.  Bent on a life between the lines.  End on a sign of the times.  -Bryan Ferry

For some time now you’ve been hearing it.  For some time now, us Sox fans have been jeering it.  Paul Revering it.  One if by land, and two if by sea.  And I, on the opposite shore will be, ready to ride and spread the alarm.  I’m ready to spread the alarm.  I’m ready to tell you Mariano Rivera is on his last legs.  I know what you’re thinking.  You’re thinking, “Just another douchebag Boston fan trying to stick it to the Yankees.  Maybe you’re right.  Afterall, it was William Shakespeare who said, “In time, we hate what we often fear.”  Thing is, as time wears on, Mariano is less fearful.  He’s 41 years old for gosh sakes.  41!  Everybody gets old, even the great ones.  When Shaquille O’Neal was asked his opinion about Michael Jordan’s comeback in Washington, Shaq Daddy simply replied, “39 ain’t 29, bro”.  No it ain’t.

Mariano Rivera is one of the great ones.  In fact, he is considered by many baseball experts to be the greatest closer in baseball history:

• Buster Olney says, ”No other player can instill calm in his team’s fans as reliably as Mariano Rivera, the game’s dominant closer and arguably the best relief pitcher of all time .”
• Joe Torre says, “He’s the best I’ve ever been around.  Not only the ability to pitch and perform under pressure, but the calm he puts over the clubhouse”
• Trevor Hoffman, the only closer with more saves than Rivera, says, “He will go down as the best reliever in the game in history.”
• Even my boy, Dennis Eckersley, says, “He is the best ever, no doubt.”

But, as great as  Mariano is, 41 ain’t 31, bro.  Don’t believe me?  Want proof?  Here’s your proof.  I got your proof right here.  Yesterday afternoon Mariano Rivera set a major-league record for consecutive 30-save seasons (nine) when he closed out the Yankees’ victory over the Angels.  Hooray Mariano Rivera!  However, in doing so, he also gave up a three-run bomb to Russell Branyan that cut New York’s lead to one run before Rivera retired the next two batters to earn his record-setting save.   For those of you keeping score at home, in each of his last three appearances, Mariano was charged with at least one run while not recording a single strikeout.  Big deal, you say?  Who cares, you say?  I say that makes the first time that Rivera has done that in three consecutive games in his 17-year major-league career.  First time.  Ever.  That’s gotta mean something, don’t it?  Sure it does.  This does too:  Between 1997 and 2009, Rivera gave up runs in three straight outings exactly four times.  He has now done it three times in the last 15 months.

I know we’ve seen this before.  I know last September Big Mo surrendered runs in three straight outings and then responded with two scoreless games to end the regular season and then added six scoreless outings in the playoffs to boot.  I know that.  This just seems different.  Joe Girardi said, “I don’t think Mo’s forgotten how to pitch.”  Neither do I, but mentally knowing what to do and physically being able to carry it out are two very different things.

Peace out homies.  Six two and Even!

I am a patriot, I love my country, because my country is all I know.  -Pearl Jam

What’s crack-a-lacking sports fans.  I’ll tell you what’s crack-a-lacking.  NFL Football is crack-a-lacking.  Lockout schmockout.   Do you smell it?  Ooh, ooh that smell.  Can’t you smell that smell?  Ooh, ooh that smell.  The smell of death football surrounds you.  That’s right.  NFL football.  NFL Patriots football.  Tonight!  It’s here.  It’s finally here.  Hooray football!  Like my main Tom Landry always says, “Football is an incredible game.  Sometimes it’s so incredible, it’s unbelievable.”  True dat.     

I know, I know.  It’s early.  It’s only preseason.  It’s still summertime.  Time to sit back and unwind.  But here’s just a little somethin’ to break the monotony of all that hardcore dance that has gotten to be a little bit out of control.  Just a little football.  Just a little New England Patriots football.  Is it Monday yet?  Nope.  It’s Thursday. “’Twas on a Holy Thursday their innocent faces clean.  The children walking two and two in red and blue and green.”  That line comes from William Blake’s poem “Holy Thursday.”  It describes throngs of children on their way to St. Paul’s Cathedral carried along by the current of their innocent faith.  That’s us tonight, ain’t it.  Sure it is.  It’s me anyways.  Like the boys and girls in this poem, tonight I raise my “innocent hands” to the football gods and sing to heaven.

I will sing to heaven because my beloved New England Patriots are back, Jack!  Tonight, we may not see many stars.  Tonight, if we do see them, we certainly won’t see them for long. I don’t care.  I know I’ll see one star.  I know I’ll see the brightest of the star of them all.  I know I’ll be seeing Tom Brady.  Yes, it’s very likely Patriots quarterback Tom Brady will start tonight and I can’t wait.

I can’t wait to see the best quarterback who’s ever been borned.  I can’t wait to see the best quarterback who’s ever been borned throw to the Cincinnati Bengals’ all-time leader in receptions and receiving yards.   Sure Chad Ochocinco was in some sort of funk last season.  Sure his head coach called him, “mopey.”  Wouldn’t you be mopey on that squad?  Sure you would.  That was then.  This is now.  Now he’s playing with Mr. Brady.  Make that Dr. Brady.  Chad:  “I respect Tom Brady.  He is the best at his craft.  I’ve always called him a surgeon, and it’s going to be fun being one of his patients.”  It sure is.

What Else to Watch For

Stevan Ridley:  Ridley was chosen in the third round of this year’s draft out of LSU.  This kid just attacks the line of scrimmage.  Attacks it I say!  Ridley is a bulldozer.  Not just any bulldozer mind you.  He an IDF Caterpillar D9 bulldozer.  You know, the armored bulldozer used by the Israeli Defense Forces.  Think John Riggins.  Think Earl Campbell.  Think guys like that there.  Ridley has been one of the consistent standouts at the early practices in Foxboro.  I would not be surprised if Ridley becomes a consistent standout as the feature back for these New England Patriots.

  Peace put homies.  Six two and even!

Maybe in time I’ll see things in a different way, but all I can think about is right now and right now you let me down.  Right now you let me down.  You let me down.  -Black Flag

There was a time Adam Dunn was one of the premier left-handed power hitters in all of baseball who showed great patience at the plate.  I know, I know, this cat has been known to stike out a lot, but he has nonetheless compiled a career on-base percentage above .380.  In fact, coming in to this season, Dunn has been one of the game’s most prolific sluggers going for seven consecutive seasons with at least 38 bombs and a  hefty .850 OPS.  That’s why Billy Williams and the White Sox signed him for all that money.  The White Sox, reeling from their 2010 finish when they failed to win the AL Central, desperately wanted a left-handed bat.  Desperately seeking Susan.  They tried several times during the summer to trade for Dunn, but couldn’t reach an agreement with the Nationals. They even entertained the idea of bringing back DH Jim Thome, who helped the Minnesota Twins to the division title last season.  But no, they ultimately signed Dunn.  Like my main John Belushi always says, “I came out here, I didn’t have to.  I could have stayed in my dressing room, by myself, and let you die out here alone.  But nooooo!  I gotta come out here and help you, and what do you do?  You turn on me like a shark!”     

Adam Dunn has turned on the White Sox like a shark.  I know, it’s not intentional, but when you’re Adam Dunn of the Chicago White Sox, and you’re hitting a measly .163 with a robust 145 strikeout count on August 11, and you’re in the first year of a four-year, $56 million contract, it just doesn’t matter.  It just doesn’t matter because now you’ve got a target on your back.  It just doesn’t matter because now Chicago fans and people like me are openly questioning whether your season and your contract are the worst in history.  Barry Zito worst.  Andruw Jones worst.  Vernon Wells worst.  Darren Dreifort worst.  At least he’s not Denny Neagle worst.  Neagle coupled his bad contract with a DUI arrest, another for soliciting a prostitute and ultimately a buyout.  But make no mistakes, this Dunn contract still looks, pretty, pretty, pretttttty bad.

How bad?  Glad you asked.  Dunn is on pace for just 16 homers and 57 RBIs.  His OPS of .598 is nearly 300 points below his career norm (.883).   His batting average of .165 would make Rob Deer look good.  You remember Rob Deer, doncha?  Sure you do.  In 1991, Rob Deer, with his .179 batting average, set the record for the lowest in baseball history by a hitter with enough plate appearances to qualify for the batting title.   You know what else Rob Deer did in 1991?  Huh?  Do Ya?  In 1991 Rob Deer led the majors in strikeouts with 175.  Dunn?  He’s on pace for 202.  Wait, it gets worse.

Last night, Adam Dunn went 0-for-4 with three strikeouts in the White Sox’ loss to the Orioles.  You might be asking what I had to ask every year at Passover.  You might be asking, “Ma nishtana ha-laila ha-zeh mi-kol ha-lelot?”  For the unitiated, that means, “Why is this night different from all other nights?”  That’s just it.  It’s not different.  It’s not different at all.  In fact, it is the 17th game this season in which Dunn went hitless with at least three strikeouts.  Big deal, you say?  Who cares, you say?  I say that sets a major-league record in that category.  I say the previous mark was 16 games with no hits and three-or-more strikeouts by Arizona’s Mark Reynolds in 2009.  Ozzie Guillen says, “I think he should learn his lesson.   He has to put himself in shape and come to spring training in shape and stay there.”

Peace out homies. Six two and even!

Just what makes that little old ant think he’ll move that rubber tree plant?  Anyone knows an ant, can’t…move a rubber tree plant.  But he’s got high hopes.  He’s got high hopes.  He’s got high apple pie, in the sky hopes.  -Frank Sinatra

Ok, here we go!  I hate to sound like the oldest guy in the barbershop, but lately, when I hear all the criticism flying Tim Tebow’s way, all I could think of were those nasty little naysayers a few years back.  All I could think of were those nasty little not today sayers a few years back.  Those nasty little no way Jose sayers a few years back.  I thought of them and I thought of Doug Flutie.          

You probably remember Flutie because of this:

That’s how it all started.  That’s how we all fell in love.  That’s how our hero was born.  Not really.   Before that game was even played, Flutie had already won the Heisman.   Before that game was even played, Flutie had already stolen a big one from Alabama in bahn burnah on National TV.  Before that game was even played, Flutie had already broken Jim McMahon’s NCAA career passing record.  Then that.  Yowza, yowza, yowza!

Like Tim Tebow, everybody said Doug Flutie was the greatest college quarterback to have ever played the game.  Like Tim Tebow, those same folks also said Doug Flutie would never make it in the NFL.  Doug Flutie was never given a fair shake.  He was forced to toil in the USFL and Canada.  Flutie racked up records in the CFL.  He racked up MVP’s in the CFL.  He racked up Championships.  He racked up Championship MVP’s.  When he left Canada, he left a legend.

Finally, Flutie was given a shot in the NFL.  He took over an awful Buffalo Bills team.  In his first start as a Bill, Flutie passed for two TDs and led a fourth-quarter comeback against the Indianapolis Colts.  He didn’t stop there.  He took that dreadful team and led them all the way to the playoffs.  He earned himself Comeback Player of the Year.  His reward?  That summabitch Wade Phillips named Rob Johnson the starter the following season.

The NFL then wasn’t so much different than the NFL of today.  Then, Wade Phillips wanted a protypical quarterback not a Midget Moses.  Winning didn’t matter.  Today, NFL masterminds have concerns about Tebow’s  footwork and elongated delivery.  They want a protypical quarterback.  Winning doesn’t matter.

When Flutie was benched in favor of Johnson, he said, “Anyone who would be content to be a number two doesn’t deserve to be on the field.”  That’s why we loved him in the first place.  Tim Tebow just said, “Those who say I won’t make it are wrong.  They don’t know what I’m capable of and what’s inside me.”  That’s why we love Tebow.

Ultimately, Rob Johnson went down due to injury.  Flutie scrambled and bootlegged  and wheeled and dealed and positioned the Bills for another winter of playoff football.  But when Rob Johnson got healthy, Phiilips sat Flutie for the last game of the season.  When Rob Johnson got healthy, Phiilips sat Flutie for the Playoffs.  The Music City Miracle playoffs.

Flutie still made the Pro Bowl that year yet he was named backup to Rob Johnson the following one.  It was inevitable he would be moved.  But know this sports fans, the Bills have not appeared in a single playoff game since Phillips replaced Flutie with Johnson.

The moral of this story?  Sometimes conventional wisdom is not wisdom at all.  Sometimes, you have to think like Al Davis.  Sometimes you have to say, just win baby!  Doug Flutie was a winner.  I believe in my heart of hearts that Tebow is that same type of winner.  Last season, if you saw Tim Tebow become only the third  rookie quarterback in forty years to score a game-winning TD in the final five minutes of the fourth-quarter you should believe it too.   Jabar Gaffney does:  “It takes a special guy to do that.  And that’s what we have.”

Peace out homies.  Six two and Even!

How gold?  Glad you asked.  Solid gold.  Solid Gold dancers gold.  Mmmmm, the Solid Gold Dancers.  Sorry.  Where was I?  Oh ya.  Freddy Lynn.  Gold.  Rookie of the Year gold.  MVP gold.  Gold Glove gold.  First player ever to win both MVP and ROY in the same season gold.  That’s how gold. This is how gold too:

• Freddy hit .331.
• Freddy hit twenty-one bombs.
• Freddy had 105 RBIs.
• He led the league in slugging percentage.
• He led the league in OPS.
• He led the league in doubles and runs scored.
• On one sunny afternoon in June, he smashed the Detroit Tigers.  Smashed the Detroit Tigers to the tune of three HRs, ten RBIs and sixteen total bases.  In one game!  Yowza!
• In the post season, he hit .306.
• In the post season,he had one ding and eight RBIs.

In Game Six against the Big Red Machine, Freddy slammed a crucial three-run jack in the first inning.  Freddy slammed a crucial three-run jack in the first inning that setup the critical Bernie Carbo jack that set up the famous Carlton Fisk jack that sits on a branch that sits on a log that sits in a hole in the bottom of the sea.  There’s a hole, there’s a hole, there’s a hole in the bottom of the sea.  Stewie Griffen style.

Now that’s what a rookie season looks like.  Now that’s why the should rename the award.  Write your congressman.  Write Bud Selig.  Tell ‘em Josh Q. Public sent ya.  Now back to our regularly scheduled programming.

Catcher – JP Arencibia

Make no mistakes, JP Arencibia is never going to hit for a high batting average.  Never.  Not in a box.  Not with a fox.  Not in a house.  Not with a mouse.  He will not do it here or there.  He will not do it anywhere.  What he will do is go yard.  JP is a streak hitter and when he streaking, he just tears the cover off the ball.  Earlier in the week he tore the cover off the ball to the tune of five bombs in six games.  Five bombs in six games all from the nine hole.  Just so you know, he’s the first major-league player to hit five bombs over six games from the last spot in the lineup since Dale Sveum did so for the 1987 Brewers.  I know.  Dale Sveum.  But still.  But still, Arencibia hit another one last night.  But still, Arencibia now has 18 for the season.  He’s an aggressive hitter who can knock the ball out to all fields in any ballpark.  Knock knock.  Who’s there?  JP Arencibia, bitch!  Honorable Mention:  Wilson Ramos

First Base – Freddie Freeman

This was a tough one.  This was a rough one.  An HR Puffnstuf one.  HR Pufnstuf, who’s your friend when things get rough?  HR Pufnstuf, can’t do a little cause he can’t do enough.  Eric Hosmer and Mark Trumbo can’t do enough either but I gotta go with Freddie Freeman here.  Freeman was just named the NL Rookie of the Month.  Freeman just came off a July in which he led all other major league rookies in batting average, hits, and on-base percentage.  Freeeman is in the middle of an 18-game hitting streak, and he hit in 23 out of 27 games in July.  Freeman here’s got a job. Freeman’s got prospects.  He’s bona fide.  What are you?  I’ll tell you what else Freddie Freeman is.  Freddie Freeman is well on his way to NL Rookie of the Year.  Danny Espinosa who?

Second Base – Danny Espinosa

Speak of the devil.  Heading into the All-Star break, Danny Espinosa was the front-runner for NL Rookie of the Year.  Like my main Pony Boy always says, “That was then.  This is now.”  It might have been Pony Boy.  Now that think of it, it prolly wasn’t Pony Boy.  Whoever it was, it fits.  Now, since the All-Star break, Espinosa is in the midst of a 11-72 skid.  This is a situation he’ll have to rectify if he wants to keep pace with Freeman.  He’ll have to do what he was doing before.  He’ll have to produces runs again.  He’ll have to hit bombs again.  I think he can.  Even if he doesn’t, he still plays superb defense.  Even if he doesn’t, he still is the only rookie who can say he hasn’t missed one game. Even if he doesn’t, he still makes this team.  Honorable Mention:  Jemile Weeks

Third Base – Justin Turner

The competition here is thin.  Very thin.  Thinner than that and even thinner still.  Cardinals third baseman Daniel Descalso is so bad that Tony La Russa had to play Albert Pujols at third base.  Chicago White Sox third baseman Brent Morel is hitting .250 and has drawn just three walks in 240 at-bats.  While Lonnie Chisenhall is undoubtedly going to be a star in the future, he’s far from that now.  Same for Mike Moustakas.  That leaves us with Justin Turner.  Wait.  I thought Justin Turner played second base.  No.  What is on second base.  Huh?  Let me explain.  Turner got the call from Triple-A Buffalo and provided instant value by hitting for average and playing solid defense at second.  So you were right, right?  Yes and no.  Turner then shifted to third base when David Wright went down in mid-May and has continued to serve as a traditional two-hole hitter with the ability to make contact and handle the bat.  Got it?  Good.  Turner doesn’t have the upside of some of the aforementioned players.  He appears to be a below average offensive second baseman with average defense and baserunning.  That doesn’t sound like ringing endorsement.  In fact in sounds a lot like my main man Stan Podalak:  “Well, I may not be very tall, but… I’m slow.”  Maybe so, but he’s all we got.

Shortstop – Elliot Johnson

Just like Jimmy Morris, it’s never too late to believe in your dreams.  It’s not too late for Elliot Johnson.  The 27 year-old Rays rookie toiled nine years in the minors and did not play more than 20 games at short until last season.  Look at him now.  This season the switch-hitting Johnson has served in a rough platoon with Reid Brignac earlier in the season and now with Sean Rodriguez.  He has served admirably.  Admirably Fletcher.  Admirably Nimitz.  Admirably Farragut.  Damn the torpedos, full speed ahead!  Elliot Johnson has gone full speed ahead.  Full speed ahead while providing value on defense and on the bases.  Sure he’s a utility guy.  César Tovar was a utility guy.  Tony Phillips was a utility guy.  Cookie Rojas and Bert Campaneris were utility guys.  How do you like them guys?  Honorable Mention:  Chase d’Arnaud

Outfield – Desmond Jennings

We caught  a glimpse of this guy last year.  Caught a glimpse of this guy in the thick of the pennant race.  Caught a glimpse of this guy in the ALDS.  In the thick of the pennant race and in the ALDS, this guy hit in eight different lineup slots, pinch-hit, pinch-ran and generally got his feet wet.  His feet are soaking now.  I know he only has 45 at-bats.  I don’t care.  Through 11 games since his call-up last month he’s batting .340.  Through 11 games since his call-up last month he has six walks and five stolen bases.  He’s gotten on base 23 times in nine games for a .436 on-base percentage and eight of his 16 hits have gone for extra bases, which is good for a .681 slugging percentage.    I have seen the future of the MLB and its name is Desmond Jennings.  Honorable Mention:  Josh Reddick

Starting Pitcher – Dillon Gee

What?  You thought I was going to say Michael Pineda?  You thought you said I’m alright Spider.  You thought wrong.  Dillon Gee got off to 7-0 in his first nine starts for the Mets this season.  That 7-0 start established a team record for rookies and made him a mainstay in a starting rotation.  he hasn’t slowed down since.   Gee, has almost single-handedly kept the Mets on the brink of playoff contention by going a team-best 10-3 with a 3.69 ERA in 20 outings.  Despite lacking the fire-balling prowess of the aforementioned Pineda, Gee has a penchant for winning.  My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery.  But that’s him.  This is about Dillon Gee.  This is about the best rookie starting pitcher in baseball.  Honorable Mention:  Michael Pineda

Closer – Craig Kimbrel

No Gomer Pyle here.  No surprise, surprise, surprise here.  Craig Kimbrel is the leader of the Braves bullpen.  He is  a 23-year-old flamethrower who has saved 32 games and struck out 86 batters in 54 innings.  How about that?  How about this:  Kimbrel’s 14.3 strikeouts per nine innings pitched is the eighth highest ever by a reliever with 50 or more innings pitched.  Yowza!  Honorable Mention:  Jordan Walden

Peace out homies.  Six two and even!

Peace out homies. Six two and even!

I’m winning.  I’m winning.  I’m winning.  And I don’t intend on losing again.  -Santana

Jake Westbrook  throws heavy and boring 90-mph sinker.  A stinker of a sinker.  Jake Westbrook throws a stinker of a sinker that when it’s going right, is very tough to beat.  I know.  I’ve seen it.  I’ve seen up close and personal.   I saw it up close and personal back in 2007.  I saw it up close and personal back in 2007 during Game 3 of the American League Championship Series.   Back in 2007 during Game 3 of the American League Championship Series, Westbrook’s sinker was going right.  He did allow a two-run homer to Jason Varitek in the seventh, but otherwise, he throttled my beloved Red Sox.  Throttled ‘em real good like.  Of the 20 outs that Westbrook recorded that day, only three came on balls hit to the outfield.  He ended three innings with double-play grounders, one with the bases loaded in the second.  That’s what Jake Westbrook looks like when his sinker is going right.  That’s what he’s been looking like for much of this season.      

Yesterday, Jake Westbrook’s sinker was going right. Yesterday, Jake Westbrook pitched eight solid innings.  Yesterday, 15 of his outs involved a groundball.  Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away.  Yesterday, in his 20th start of the season, Big Jake improved his record to 8-4 with a win against the Metropolitans.  Big deal, you say?  Who cares, you say?  So what, you say?  I say Westbrook’s eight wins are the second-most he’s ever recorded in his first 20 starts of a season.  What’s old is new again. I say he was 10-4 in his first 20 starts for the Indians in 2004.  However, I also say, Westbrook’s 5.04 earned-run average this year is the highest of his career in his first 20 starts of a season.  But I’m like Weezer, “I don’t care about that.”  I’m like Al Davis, “Just win baby!”  That’s what Jake’s Westbrook’s been doing.  He’s like Charlie Sheen.  Winning.

Peace out homies. Six two and even!

Peace out homies.  Six two and even!