Just wondering where Johnny Damon’s thoughts on all things Red Sox were this year …
“We talk when we run into each other,” Saberhagen told the Kansas City Star’s Jerry Flanagan, “but it’s not like I’ve got his number or he’s got mine. We don’t hang out. But I just feel there’s a problem with the Hall and him not being in there.”
Saberhagen was 167-117 for his career with a 3.34 ERA and two Cy Youngs. Not bad, for sure, but Hall-worthy? Nah. Then again, if I were voting, I’d toss him a vote just to see if he’d actually stick to his guns. But as nice a pitcher as Saberhagen was, there’s no way he’s getting elected unless voters choose to take his unhittable RBI Baseball performance into consideration, in which case, he’s first ballot. John Franco too.
The folks at KeepManny.com: We will not be swayed by any more journalists with their own devious agendas. It’s absolutely mind-boggling to us that this is still a front page story… Regardless, The Nation needs Manny and we’re not convinced that he really wants to leave. Six years have passed and we still have not heard these words from Manny’s lips: “I WANT TO BE TRADED!” It’s almost like a sick joke!
Curt Schilling: I’ve spoken with Manny and Manny does want to be traded. Manny wants to play somewhere else.
Yup. The media. Keep trying.
Last night, Steve Phillips, who is almost illogically proving himself to be as bad a TV talking head as he was a general manager, said — on national TV, not in some barroom where the day-old Pabst is starting a film on the plank floor — that if the Red Sox were to trade Manny Ramirez, they would attempt to sign Barry Bonds to play left field. Right, dude.
Gordon Edes reports today that a Sox insider denied that claim.
This, of course, less than two weeks after Michael Irvin went on a racially insensitive rant trying to explain why Tony Romo is such a good athlete.
On a side note, I wasn’t aware that Dartmouth and my alma mater, Bishop Stang, had ceased the Slocum Road football rivalry. Lame. I mean, all the congrats in the world to the Spartans for finishing an undefeated regular season (until getting spanked by Foxborough Tuesday night) but it’s not exactly the most difficult schedule in the world either. While the ’06 Spartans were playing the likes of Mashpee and ORR, our former incarnation was going up against the powerhouse likes of New Bedford, Durfee, and Barnstable. Stang now has a Thanksgiving rivalry with Bishop Connolly, which didn’t even have a team when we were roaming the gridiron. I’m not saying that Stang shouldn’t revel in its perfect year, but let’s not shy away from calling their slate what it was: soft. This is like BC scheduling Buffalo for an entire season.
End of has-been rant.
“One of the thoughts I had was that we could create a family friendly environment at our theaters … because there are so few places now for families to get together to watch football,” said NA president Shari Redstone in a phone interview, adding that she brought up her children on New England Patriots football games.
The one downfall, of course, is you could be stuck with Randy Cross booming in top-of-the-line cinematic audio with no remote. That’ll ruin your Sunday.
First things first. We are happy to announce the official end of Frank McCourt’s ill-conceived experiment designed to make his franchise more like the Yankees or Red Sox. In a return to Dodger tradition, the names will be on the players’ backs again in 2007, which is a service in more ways than one.
“One thing about going to Dodger Stadium when I was younger, I knew I had good tickets when I could see the names on the backs,” Wolf said.
That’s great. But what kind of odd notion was this by McCourt in the first place? Did he really think LA fans were going to care enough to know a player’s name by his number? Britney Spears’ brassiere size, sure, but which one of those guys is Jeff Kent? No way. I suppose though it will help the women realize that it’s Derek Lowe hitting on them incessantly.
Of course, once Manny hears about this, he could veto a possible trade there for fear of being too suffocated.