Scorsese scores, and I get to see my favorite band!

I've never been a huge fan of sitting through the whole Oscars, or any awards show for that matter. But I wanted to see how one movie that has quickly become one of my top 3 all-time favorites would do. How's Best Director, Best Adapted Screenplay, Best Editing, and Best Picture? Pretty decent. (Hint: I speak of The Departed!)

Here's a cool bit of news: I get to go see my FAVORITE band, the Dropkick Murphys, in 9 days. I love them soooo much but I've never gotten to see them before. Somehow, I don't have any quizzes or anything that day, so yay!

The previous two items are related, by the way, since "I'm Shipping up to Boston" by DKM was used heavily in The Departed. The following item, on the other hand, is not related at all, but is much more important.

My dad is having a big, horrifically painful ankle surgery tomorrow. Please pray for a successful operation and a speedy recovery. Thanks!

i LOVE people

The couple in front of me loaded item after item after item on to the tiny little counter, right beneath the sign that boldly proclaims "20 ITEMS OR LESS" (which is grammatically incorrect, I know, but it should still send a pretty clear message). I tried to be charitable, thinking that their cartload only looked like it was more than twenty items, becuase some of their purchases were large, like a big bag of Malt-O-Meal cereal.

Then they kept going; it was like they had a bottomless cart. They finally got their last groceries on to the counter, paid the friendly cashier and ambled away. I hoisted my five items to the counter and cast a long gaze at the couple who was walking away with their laden cart. The cashier did not say "Hello" to me. Rather, he said, "It was 44." He also told me that he's seen people buy seventy-five items in that lane.

Yes, the lane that is for 20 or fewer items. I love people.

Spring Training is upon us!

Pitchers, catchers, and players who were injured last season have reported to Spring Training sites all over the country. Hooray!

Some Royals pitching news:
Scott Elarton is ahead of schedule. The surgery Elarton had last season was his *gasp* third labrum surgery. Same type of surgery I just had 6 weeks ago. I wouldn't recommend having it even once, but he's had three of them? That's hardcore. I hope he has a good season this year; I really like him.


Gil Meche is ridiculously confident. Not sure how I feel about this one. This seems to be some big talk for an up-and-down pitcher who's never been in the spotlight before. For $11m a year, he'd better live up to some of that talk. For the moment, I'm still "meh" on him, and that's sad. I want to put all my trust in Dayton Moore, but something about Meche's acquisition and giant contract seems...off. Time will tell.

In another royals.com article (which I can't seem to locate right now), they said that outfielder Joey Gathright reported to the Surprise, AZ training facility a few weeks early to get accustomed to the sun. I just gained some respect for Mr. Gathright, whom I normally don't like.* It's good to see a pro athlete actually making extra effort to overcome a perceived obstacle, rather than being all whiny about it.


*I really have a lot of contempt for Gathright as a player. Here's why:
He was brought in because of his tremendous speed. So in theory, he should have stolen a ton of bases, all the time, right? Nope. He's also just average defensively, yet he took over center field, displacing my main man, David DeJesus. DeJesus has much better command of center field, gets better jumps on every ball, and is a much better leader and communicator. To me, Gathright doesn't cut it and DeJesus should have stayed in center. I'm still waiting for Gathright to be the superstar baserunner he was brought to KC to be, but honestly I'm not holding my breath.

My secret love for the entertainment world comes out

Man, I'm really lovin' the random stuff lately. Soon enough, there will be baseball about which to write, but until then I'm going to roll with random tidbits. See, I have this secret fascination with things like fashion, interior design, and celebrity gossip. I also have been watching TV lately, so expect some of that too. Here we go:

I'm a little worried about Paula Abdul's alcohol use. It's getting pretty darn bad; she can barely sit still, both on Idol and when she's doing TV interviews. Behold:
This drunken interview

And

This drunken interview

One morning, two interviews, one horribly drunken state.

Also, how about this one for mommy-government: Illegal to listen to iPod when crossing the street?
Surely this can't actually happen. How would they enforce it? Furthermore, if someone is so obsessed with their iPod that they can't look for oncoming traffic on busy NYC streets, then they might kinda have it coming. And I see this all the time on campus ... I'm amazed at how the iPod listening and phone-chattering really do detract from simpler people's ability to, say, look for cars. How have I not seen someone get splatted by a bus while rockin' out to their iTunes? I don't know.

Ahh, here's some good Royals stuff. My favorite Royals prospect this spring (besides Alex Gordon, to whom I would donate my soul if he asked) will be Billy Butler. He said some pretty cool things about gratitude for his abilities, waiting his turn for the majors, and interacting with young fans in this article. Very cool.

Lastly, Bravo's new interior design show, Top Design, has kind of been a letdown. When I watched the first episode, something was bugging me; the show just felt kind of...off. The boys who brought us Project RunGay also have a blog devoted to Top Design. They offered their opinions about TD's flaws better than I ever could.

Randoms

• This news story is near and dear to my heart, as I go by the screen name 'Chewbacca' on a number of forums. I extend my apologies to any tourists I may or may not have headbutted.

• In other news, the Super Bowl was kind of lame. I was hoping for...oh, I don't know... a good game, maybe? Instead, we got eleventy billion turnovers, boring commercials, and Adam Vinatieri missing a field goal (I didn't know that happened in the postseason). I'm guessing all the very loud and excited Bears fans I encountered in IHOP at 3 on Sunday morning are not nearly as exuberant today as they were at that time.

However, one good thing about the game was that Tony Dungy is a classy guy. I like that he throws down the G-Word (God!) in his post game speech and you can tell he actually means it. I really like both coaches involved; it's a shame that one of them had to lose.

• I have a new job, sort of. On weekends, I get assigned to various grocery stores around town and hand out free samples of new Pepsi products. It gets a little boring at times, but I still enjoy it. And by now, I could probably recite all the ingredients in Aquafina Alive Wellness Water. I can't believe the number (and variety) of questions people ask about the ingredients ... I get everything from the expected queries about calories to "My wife is allergic to [obscure substance I've never heard of]. Can she still drink this stuff?" Another thing I've noticed is that older people seem absolutely disgusted by the idea of flavored water. Parents with young kids are the best, because of course the kids see free stuff and just have to try it. One benefit is that I'm seeing parts of Lincoln I've never really known before, which is kind of neat. Also, I don't think I will ever turn down another free sample in a grocery store; it can be slightly disheartening.

• 55 days until Opening Day!

GRRRRRRRR :(

The refs literally *GAVE* the game to Texas tonight.

With .4 seconds left in the first half, Texas got the ball under their own hoop after a foul. One player whipped the ball inbounds to his teammate, who grabbed it, set his feet, then went up for the shot and made it. There is no way he could have done all of that in under .4 seconds. However, the refs counted the basket...


...and Texas ended up winning by one. I call a Texas-sized BULLSHIT.

Shoulders, mountains, crosses

You may have noticed a stunning lack of updates lately, for which I apologize. What happened was, I hurt my shoulder back in October, but wasn't able to have it operated on until last Wednesday. Since that time, typing has been a slow and tedious process so I haven't bothered to do it.

Last week's operation was my first ever surgery, and this is my first major injury. For the most part, I cannot use my right hand or arm, which is a shame because I'm very right-handed. What a way to start off a new semester, eh? But I've learned a whole lot from having to deal with these newfound (but fortunately temporary) disabilities.

I've learned to be more patient in everything I do. Getting dressed is a pretty epic process, especially if I want to wear my sling on the outside of my shirt. Have you ever thought about the directional orientation of buttons and zippers on jeans? Yep, they're made under the assumption that absolutely everybody can use their right hands to fasten their pants. That one has been kind of tricky, and really isn't getting any easier with practice.

I've also had to be more resourceful.I figure that I can carry/move any everyday object as long as I have a place to set it down when I need my carrying hand for something else, like opening a door. I can still take care of myself in the cafeteria, as long as I am willing to make more trips for additional foods, and of course my 2 glasses of milk.

Bad hair days are now an everyday occurrence, and I guess I just have to either accept my inability to fix that, or just chop off all my hair. Thus far, I've been okay with the former, though I may resort to the latter if the mane is still this hideous in a few weeks. My makeup look has also suffered, but I just have to put up with that one too.

The biggest and hardest lesson I've learned from all of this is the ability to accept help. In grade school, junior high, high school, and now college, I've ever been able to ask for help with my work, even if I know I need it. Now I can. Random strangers help me on a daily basis with everything from reaching high places to tying my shoes. Were it not for the graciousness of strangers, I would be hiding in a hole somewhere, missing my college experience.

A lot of this stuff sucks. Yes, I'm in a tremendous amount of pain. No, I can't do most of the things I want to do: play guitar, take a shower, tie my shoes, hug my dad. Yes, the drugs have had some awful side affects -- have you ever puked on a bus? Neither had I, until the vicodin made me do it on my first day of classes.

Despite all the crap, I've mostly been able to grab hold of a positive in every situation. How great is my first round of golf going to feel? Or the first time I get to carry my lunch tray with both hands? Or the first time I can move enough to strum a few chords on my guitar? And without this injury, would I have realized how kind all the people around me can be?

Some of you may not know this, but I am a Catholic, and as such I see tremendous value in suffering. Without some crosses to bear, life would suck because things always worked out. I'd never be able to appreciate tying my shoelaces without having that ability taken away from me for a few months. So all I can do is thank God for the opportunity to see Him in a situation that many would see as only a shitty time in their lives.

"Walkin's easy when the road is flat......The good Lord gave us mountains so we can learn how to climb." -Lonestar

A few thoughts that are not my own.

For Christmas, my family got two baseball books. One was The Baseball Book from Sports Illustrated, which was the greatest thing ever, and the other was Home Plate Don’t Move, a compilation of baseball-related quotes. Here are some of my favorites.

“Any ballplayer that don’t sign autographs for little kids ain’t an American. He’s a communist.” –Rogers Hornsby

<----Angel Berroa is apparently not a communist. But wait! He's not American-born, either. Is there a third option? Either way, I suppose he's not a jerk in Hornsby's book.

“If you don’t think baseball is a big deal, don’t do it. But if you do it, do it right.” –Tom Seaver

“It ain’t bragging if you can do it.” –Dizzy Dean (Dizzy Dean, shown at right, sure could do it.)

“A hot dog at the ballpark is better than a steak at the Ritz.” –Humphrey Bogart

“Correct thinkers think that ‘baseball trivia’ is an oxymoron: nothing about baseball is trivial.” –George Will

“A man once told me to walk with the Lord. I’d rather walk with the bases loaded.” –Ken Singleton

“Just take the ball and throw it where you want to. Throw strikes. Home plate don’t move.” –Satchel Paige

“It’s not what you did last year. It’s what you’re going to do this year. That’s more important.” –Albert Pujols (and people wonder why I WORSHIP this guy, despite my hatred of the Cardinals)

“People ask me what I do in winter when there’s no baseball. I’ll tell you what I do. I stare out the window and wait for spring.” –Rogers Hornsby

“All winter long, I can’t wait for baseball. It gets you back to doing the stuff you love and makes you wish the youthfulness of life could stay with you forever.” –Tommy John

“Baseball is dull only to dull minds.” –Red Smith

“I can never undertand why anybody leaves he game early to beat the traffic. The purpose of baseball is to keep you from caring if you beat the traffic.” –Bill Vaughan, columnist for the KC Star

“Baseball’s most delicious paradox: although the game never changes, you’ve never seen everything.” –Stephen King

“The losing streak is bad for the fans, no doubt, but look at it this way. We’re making a lot of people happy in other cities.” –Ted Turner

“The fans like to see home runs, and we have assembled a pitching staff for their enjoyment.” –Clark Griffith, an executive for the Twins

“They give you a round bat and they throw you a round ball, and then they tell you to hit it square.” –Willie Stargell

“The two most important things in life are good friends and a strong bullpen.” –Bob Lemon

Ice EVERYWHERE

Last night, just a few nights after I got home for my first college Christmas break, a soft rain fell throughout the wee hours of the morning. The rain froze as soon as it hit any cold, solid objects, thus coating the entire town in over a half an inch of ice. Icicles line each cable of our clothesline out back; they run across each diamond and along the top of our chain-link fence.

The ice is beautiful, but it's a sinister beauty. The fact that there's a half-inch of the stuff means it weighs a ridiculous amount. My neighbors have a grand and quite mature tree in their front yard, which is at least 70 years old and stands over 35 feet tall. Well, not so much anymore. A great number of the tallest, grandest branches are now upside-down in the yard, and missed impaling the house's roof by only a few inches.

All day long, my dad's fire department radios have been squawking about power lines down all over town -- we considered getting out a map of the city and sticking pushpins in each location where a downed line or even pole was reported. I think that by now we'd have run out of either pins or space on the map.

To step outside is to subject your ears to a frighteningly loud chorus of sirens as crews scurry from one downed line to another, and of creaks and groans of branches and their coats of ice as they sway in the breeze. We have lost a few minor limbs and a bush in the backyard, but that's all so far. It's honestly a little scary knowing that at any second, my front porch could be crushed as a heavy branch above it succumbs to the weight of the ice.

Please pray that the rest of my family -- my Dad and my three older brothers -- can make it back to McCook safely tomorrow as planned, and that my front porch can be in one piece when they get here.

Short note for Sunday

It's Sunday, which means church, naps, football, and PostSecret. I'm sure you've already heard of this site, but if you haven't, please make it a part of your websurfing every Sunday.

On Christmas

In my previous post, I briefly mentioned my cheery Christmas mood. All I mentioned there was the surface stuff -- music, shopping, decorating. But to me, the very best thing about Christmas is the giving.

In today's fast-paced, self-centered society, it seems that most people spend at least 11 months of the year thinking about only themselves. Maybe this view is a little cynical, but it really seems that way. People stare straight ahead in stores, totally unaware of their fellow shoppers also trying to navigate the aisles. Kids in school hallways don't always take the time to hold doors or pick up things that others dropped on the floor. Moms let their kids scream and scream everywhere they go. And all that is a shame.

But then comes December. Is it just me, or does everyone really seem nicer around Christmas? Yes, I do hear the horror stories about mad shoppers who try to kill each other. But aside from those incidents, it does seem like people are willing to take a little less time for themselves, and a little more time for others. If you need proof, look at the Salvation Army's donation tree in your community, where they add more lights as people donate more money. I've been watching the one in Lincoln grow brighter. I've seen the one in Omaha too, and by the time Christmas finally arrives, the tree is so full of lights you can't even tell there's a tree under them.

On my floor, we had a "Secret Santa" with a $10 limit. Nearly every girl I've talked to has gone over that limit, because they like to give. I agree; giving is way better than receiving.

The beauty in giving is that you can keep doing it forever; there's always someone who can receive what you have to offer. And the beauty of giving in today's society is that it's easier than ever. A few mouse clicks at the Child's Play website can give a sick kid something to do while in the hospital. (While you're at the Child's Play site, read some of the stories of the struggles they've had in making room for all the donations. If you ever wonder about whethere there are good people left in the world, these stories offer plenty of hardcore evidence that the answer is a resounding YES.)

I love the way Rick Reilly of Sports Illustrated talked about charitable giving in his December 4 column:

It was the alltime no-brainer. Skip lunch; save a life. Buy the Top-Flites instead of the Titleists; save a life. Don't bet on the Redskins; save a life. Nothing to research. No government to topple. No warlords to fight.

He was talking about Nothing But Nets, a campaign started by SI last year to fight malaria by giving mosquito nets to kids in Africa. And he's right about the giving -- many of us have a ton of ways we can get rid of some expenses and add a tremendous amount of happiness to someone else's life, or even save lives directly.

And with the power to give that much, how can I help but to feel a tinge of Christmas cheer?

A few new things

So it's been a while; my bad. A few things since last posting....

The Big XII Championship game:
The game was last night in Kansas City. As you probably already know, Nebraska lost to Oklahoma, 21-7. Talk about underachieving on the offense. Man, that was a disappointment. However, it was a heck of a fun trip, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat, if for no other reason than the pregame atmosphere.

It was a lot like a Husker home game, with Nebraska fans outnumbering Sooners at a ratio of about 6:1. We got to the parking lot at around 3:30 in the afternoon and the lots were already packed with massive RVs and people who obviously spend a lot of time tailgating. Barbecues, TVs, tents, and space heaters were everywhere, and everyone was in a pretty swell mood. I think that Husker fans were for the most part kind to the poor outnumbered Okies, because that's just how Husker fans roll.

It's funny how easy it is to get free stuff when you're a college chick. In order to be offered free beer, for example, we merely had to stand around for about 2.6 seconds. Some older folks near us actually fed us their barbecued wares for free, which was great because of course, food in the stadium costs about a million dollars.

The weather was pretty nippy, but really it wasn't bad. Some people would say we got bad seats -- only 10 rows from the top -- but I think they were absolutely awesome. We could see everything on the field very clearly...there's a good reason people put press boxes high up rather than at field-level! Our feet got pretty cold, but we survived without the loss of any toes, so it couldn't have been that severe, right?

Turns out Nebraska will take on Auburn in the Cotton Bowl on New Year's Day. I'm unbelievably psyched for that. I don't know if I ever mentioned it here, but I got sick to death of the way ESPN drooled all over Auburn all season, when they're really not all that amazing. If Nebraska brings their A-game, they can smoke 'em easily. So basically, the defense can play like they did in the 3rd quarter last night, and the offense can remember what they did all season rather than do like last night.

Other Husker happenings:
The volleyball team rollllllled in their game last night, with a 3-game sweep over Northern Iowa to get into the NCAA Sweet 16.
The Nebraska men's basketball team didn't fare so well, taking their first loss of the regular season at Rutgers, 75-73. They'll be fine, as long as they pick up a win in Oregon this week!

Happy yummy Christmas feelings!
I love the Christmas season. Now that it's finally Advent (for all ye non-Catholics, Advent is the 4 weeks before Christmas in which we prepare for His birth), I can really get into the music, the decorating, and the shopping! It's a wonder my finances ever recover from Christmas; I love to give presents, and I've never met a charity drive I didn't love. But I always bounce back somehow.

I always love the first Sunday Mass of Advent, though. We get to bust out the Christmas music, and it always makes me giddy. I can guarantee I'll be in an unflappable good mood tonight. Off I go to go put up our room lights!!

Nebrasketball is BACK

Well, as outlined in my previous post, I was all psyched up for Nebraska vs. Creighton. Sure enough, when I went to leave the dorm at just before 5:00 (for a 7:00 game), people heckled me. "Minda," they said. "Why are you leaving Michigan/Ohio State so early? Who cares where you sit, because Nebraska is just going to get stomped?"

We went anyway. The Devany Center was sold out, and by tipoff the place was ROCKIN'. Many, many, many Creighton fans filled the seats, but they were nowhere near me, as I was in the exact middle of the Red Zone. The atmosphere was exactly as a college basketball game should be: Electric.

And guess what! Nebraska beat Creighton. Read that again, and again and again. I could never say it enough. Here's the thing: Nebraska is a football school, a volleyball school, a baseball school, a soccer, wrestling, track school. We're NOT generally thought of as a basketball school.

Creighton, on the other hand, has been a mainstay in the top 25 for the last couple of years. They routinely make appearances in the Big Dance, and they were by all acounts supposed to absolutely embarrass my Huskers tonight.

NOPE!

Because it's 3:30 in the morning, I won't go into too much detail. But basically, every man in a Husker uniform brought his A-game tonight. Maric was quite quiet in the first half but it was fine because everyone else stepped up. As for the Bluejays...Nate Funk is exciting to watch, despite his somewhat douchey hairstyle. And he was solid tonight, scoring somewhere around 28 points. But his teammates couldn't really sink much. Hence the result.

Nebrasketball is back. Same ball, new game.

An almost sad relience on sports

So here's the thing. My life -- nearly every aspect of it -- revolves around sports. I guess that's a good thing, given that I want to write/talk about sports as a career someday. However, it does create some problems. For example, what am I to do when 5:00 rolls around this afternoon?

I'll certainly be watching Michigan vs. Ohio State; how could I not when ESPN has been counting the minutes down to this game for over a week? However, today is one of the biggest games for Nebraska basketball this year, and I need to be in my usual seats (standing on the floor in front of the first row of student section bleacher seats) by 5:30 for the 7:00 tipoff. That means leaving my dorm around 5:00. Do you see where this is going?

If Michigan/OSU is a close game...what do I do? Do I stay here and risk losing my amazing courtside position? Or do I duck out of here as planned, and risk missing a great game of football?

Therefore, I'm hoping for a blowout this afternoon. That will make it much easier to leave.

EDIT: This has nothing to do with anything, but I want to point it out... in case you didn't already know...I'll be in Kansas City to watch my Huskers in the Big XII title game on December 2. I honestly think we can win it. Go Big Red!!!

CONGRATULATIONS, GRUD!!

Finally. Mark Grudzielanek has won a Gold Glove!!!

Grud is one of my favorite Royals of the last 10 years. I love how hard he plays, and I love how you can watch him and know that he loves baseball. He doesn't complain about anything, ever, except the occasional knock on announcers for misprouncing his name. The man deserves this honor. I'm so excited he'll be back on board with us next season!

On another Royals-related note, one of my all-time heroes in broadcasting, Denny Matthews, is up for a prestigious honor as well. Voting for the 2007 Frick Award has begun, and you can bet I'll be pulling for Denny. He is as big a part of my childhood as Nintendo, Little League or Legos. The one-two punch of Denny and Fred for the Royals was always a treat. Go Denny!

Golf, rather than baseball

If this blog is to be about 'Baseball & Other Things,' this is one of the other things. I miss golf. In high school, I played varsity golf all four years. That meant spending every glorious fall day on the driving range, the putting greens, or playing a quick 9 before heading off to work. It also meant free golf all year whenever I wanted and however often I wanted. No tee times; just show up and go for it.

Sadly, those days are gone. I haven't played at all since moving to Lincoln, since I'd actually have to fork over (lots of) money to do so here. And boy do I miss it. Every time I use the trunk of my car, my clubs are right there. They almost seem to be calling out to me, begging me to hold them, swing them, carry them, clean them, love them. But nay. Instead, I have to slam the trunk lid shut and pretty much pretend I didn't see the clubs, because I know full well I won't get to use them any time soon.

Today in the cafeteria, a show on ESPN was an acute reminder of how much I miss my golfing days. Unfortunately I couldn't watch much of it because I had to go to class, but I wanted to because it was about Tiger, whom I admire immensely. The show's title was something like Tiger Woods: the Best Ever? Whether or not he's the greatest golfer of all time might remain to be seen, but what I can tell your right now is that there is no better model of work ethic and desire for improvement than Tiger.

A few years ago, back in McCook, our golf pro, Lee Maiden, held two pictures out to me. They were both of Tiger setting up to take a shot, but were taken on different days. "Minda," Lee said to me, "What is the difference between these two photos?"

Well shoot. Tiger's approach to the ball looked exactly the same to me in both shots, so I was left with only the obvious difference: "He's...uh...wearing different shirts?"

"I know; that's all I could find too," Lee replied. "But Tiger is disgusted with his form in the picture on the left, so the one on the right is the product of weeks of meticulous work."

Let me say again that the pictures looked identical. Even a pro couldn't spot the difference. But to Tiger, there was a world of difference, so he worked hard to refine his approach until it came closer to his impeccable standards.

Lee's point in showing me those pictures was to show me how I should practice. All the range balls in the world weren't going to help me if I was just out there hitting them to get to the bottom of the bucket. Every yellow range ball I hit was to be an attempt to make my game better, my swing more sound.

In the summertime, I'd go out to the driving range at what I thought was an ungodly early hour -- 8:00 or so, and oftentimes I'd stay there until at least lunch. I'd hit bucket after bucket of range balls, using the yardage signs as targets. Then I'd spend time down on the ludicrously hard putting green, chipping and putting from impossibly difficult locations and slopes. And of course, I shot out of the bunker. While I was practicing, I was not a social creature. I'd say 'hi' to folks as they passed me by, but mostly I kept a laser-sharp focus.

The sad thing is, after all of that practice, I'm still just an average golfer. So even if I try to focus and practice like Tiger, I'll never ever play like Tiger, or even like...someone who doesn't suck. :-(

Drawing a bit of a blank

Heh. When I used the blogging feature at MySpace, whenever I'd sit down to write, I'd only be able to think of baseball. I felt kind of bad, knowing that of my MySpace friends, only a few actually cared about baseball. Now that I have a place to write mostly about the sport, I can't come up with as much. Weird.

Or maybe it's because the season is over. Boo Cardinals! (I'm a good Royals fan; it's in my blood to hate the Cards...) Also, shame on Detroit. After the way the AL dominated the NL in interleague play and in the Stupid Crappy (All-Star) Game, I had hoped that the league would be well-represented when it came time for the World Series.

That said, I still think Jim Leyland is an awesome manager. The turnaround he authored in Detroit is nothing short of miraculous. I love his style; he doesn't take crap from anybody, and he holds his players responsible when they mess up. Excuses are not allowed, and that is the way it should be.

And I'll admit it; I had my doubts about the Tigers. If you look back on my posts from early into the season, and my midseason 2nd-half forecast, I thought they'd fall from grace way sooner than they did. So kudos to you, Detroit, for proving me so wrong.

I really do take comfort in the Tigers' turnaround, given that their fans know very well how it feels to be dead last, and they've had that feeling very recently. Now I just have to wait the excrutiating five months until the Royals begin a similar revolution.
'

Barry B*nds

This is another one I wrote for a journalism class. I don't know what kind of grade I got it, because I don't have to turn it in for another hour and half. Anywho, here it is:
****EDIT: I got a 95%. The only things for which points were taken off were nitpicky grammatical errors, but I got all possible points for content. Go me!****
__________________________________________________________________
Before that one ball was pitched, it was just a ball. It was off-white with stitching in waxed red string, just like any other. It was made of cork and wound yarn, was covered in leather, and weighed the same five ounces as all balls used in Major League Baseball. But after it was thrown, Barry Bonds launched it out of the park for his 71^st home run of the 2001 season, breaking Mark McGwire’s single-season record.

The moment that ball went over the wall, Bonds’ critics have protested his record and questioned its legitimacy, saying his alleged steroid use propelled his batting performance. They’ve said he does not deserve to have his name in the hallowed record books next to greats like Babe Ruth and Hank Aaron. Those critics are absolutely correct.

The record books are for men who defied the odds and did what was not possible for any other man before them. Records are set by players who have that extra something special that propels them to greatness. In most of these players, that “extra something” came from within; it was something natural and God-given. For Barry Bonds, the Bay Area Laboratory Co-Operative supplied that extra boost, and Bonds’ legacy should not survive without a footnote stating exactly that. An asterisk next to his name would not undo the damage he did to Major League Baseball by cheating; nothing could ever do that. But it would help ease the minds of the fans who realize what an injustice his steroid use was and still is.

The bottom line is that Bonds can not go unpunished for the disservice he has done for baseball’s purity. Thanks to him, ‘America’s pastime’ is tainted, and everyone is suspect. Even the tiny mark of punctuation next to his name would show the next several generations that our generation does not reward cheaters with glory, but instead shames them with negative distinction.

Until someone else comes along and breaks the bonds of the Bonds record, this generation of MLB fans must stand firm in this. Otherwise, future players might be tempted to follow the same path to hollow glory that Bonds has. If cheaters can prosper now, what’s to stop someone from cheating in the future? Bonds’ malfeasance must not be sugar-coated or glossed over; if it is, up-and-comers of the future may bask in the apparent ease of the ‘cream and the clear.’ They may shun the high road and rely on banned substances. What’s scarier than that is the fact that taking those paths of darkness might actually work to win over legions of fans, just like Mr. Bonds.

Surprisingly, many still support Bonds and the legitimacy of his home run record. Some of them say that he is more talented than any other hitter of the last 25 years. They argue that his swing is so very solid; it was only a matter of time before he broke McGwire’s single-season home run mark from 1998. That certainly begs this question: if he could have done it without the aid of steroids, why didn’t he? Baseball would be much better off if today’s children and teens had a drug-free home run hero. Instead, they have asterisks, BALCO, Victor Conte and testimony before Congress getting in the way of their enjoyment of baseball.

If the name of Barry Bonds goes unmarked in the MLB record books, this generation of ballplayers is damned to a lifetime of negativity. Folks will look back on this era and only remember steroids and scandal. They may not recall today’s greats who have worked and done things the right way: sluggers like Jim Thome, and the all-around amazing Albert Pujols. Future generations might forget this era’s excellent pitchers like Johan Santana and Roy Halladay. Men like these have labored for years to perfect their performance, and they may be overshadowed in time because Barry Bonds gave into the temptation to cheat his way into the records.

In defense of defense

I wrote this for one of my journalism classes. I like it, so I thought I'd share here (and on MySpace). Enjoy!
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Where has all the defense gone? by Minda Haas

ESPN is and always will be the number one source for all things related to sports. They have cemented themselves in the annals of sports and entertainment lore for generations to come. But even they come up way short when it comes to covering the most wonderful and important aspect of baseball: defense.

On ESPN's Baseball Tonight, they often choose to devote more time to home runs than spectacular defensive plays. I've never understood that, because when you get right down to it, watching highlights of home runs is boring. Sure, Baseball Tonight features Web Gems, but that isn't enough. I think that of the 30 or so teams playing on a given night, more than five defenders make solid plays.

They're not alone, either. Major League Baseball's website, www.mlb.com, constantly pays more homage to home runs than web gems. The headlines in major newspapers trumpet news of another Bonds homer, even if the Giants went on to lose that night's game.

The mlb.com headlines from Opening Day 2006 speak mostly of home runs. Of the 15 wrap-ups from the first full day of baseball this season, eight mentioned homers in the headline or in the story's first sentence. Only three stories were headlined with mentions of pitching, and just headline contained reference to a team's defense.

The coverage of Barry Bonds' quest for home run records is particularly sickening. I know nothing of his teammates or how the Giants are doing overall, because all anyone cares to show me (and the rest of the nation's sports news consumers) is how Bonds is doing. Yawn. One day during Spring Training 2006, the Cubs' pitching staff combined to take a perfect game into the 9^th inning. I thought that was fairly news-worthy, so I tuned into ESPN that night to learn more. Instead of that, I got what basically amounted to a 30-minute analysis of Bonds' physical health.

This overwhelming obsession with home runs worries me as a true baseball fan and a future sports journalist. I fear that today's young baseball fans don't know how to truly appreciate the many wonders baseball has to offer; they'd much rather see the condensed version of a game with just the home runs and maybe the fights on SportsCenter. I have personally coached young boys who try to swing for the fences but have no idea how to cleanly field a routine grounder.

In glorifying the long ball and ignoring defense and pitching, sports news outlets are pandering to the lowest common denominator, and it's contributing to a sad decline in a healthy following of baseball. Gone are the days when kids are willing to listen to a ballgame on the radio or even watch a whole one on TV, and that's frightening for the future of the sport. Granted, I'm an old-timey fan. I know how to use a score sheet, and I listen to games on the radio obsessively. I don't expect that level of fandom from everyone, but a basic appreciation for the finer elements of the sport shouldn't be too much to ask.

I'm starting to feel that the only way to see all the stellar pitching and defense in a day of baseball is to watch every inning of every game. It's not too hard to see why that's not a possibility – I'm a full-time student with a part-time job as well. So I guess I just have to miss the truly great parts of baseball, and instead settle for 20 nightly highlights of a ball going over a fence.

A short Royals note

From Sept. 25
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This is the most singularly awesome column I've read all season. In this moment, in the afterglow of reading this, I'm more excited for 2007 than I've ever been.

Screw the winter; it needs to be April '07 right now.