Catching Up With The Circle Me Bert Superstar

GameDay: When we spoke two years ago, you'd been circled by Bert Blyleven 27 times. What's the count at now?

Boone Hagarsky: I'm up to 39. You can find all the video at my website, CMBSuperstar.com.

GD: A lot has been written about the adjustments Twins players made moving from the Metrodome to their new ballpark. Did the move to Target Field require changes to your Circle Me Bert approach?

BH: Oh, absolutely. The Metrodome was a just a pristine Circle Me Bert environment. No wind or rain. No sun, so pretty steady temperatures and lighting. At Target Field, you've got to inject these environmental variables into your preparation and presentation equations.

GD: Talk about the adjustments to the preparation piece. Last time you described some really interesting preparation methods. Things like using dressing room mirrors and in store surveillance video monitors to experiment with stances, sign presentation angles, and the like.

BH: Sure. What you're describing there I call technique training. With the injection of Target Field weather elements, you've got to cross train that technique training with what I call MST -- Materials Stress Testing. If you want to be ready for anything Mother Nature throws your way, you've got to subject yourself and your hand held signage materials to the most extreme weather conditions you can simulate.

GD: With the winter we just had, I don't imagine you had much trouble simulating cold and snow.

BH: (laughs) No, that wasn't a problem. But cold and snow aren't something I worry about too much. Heat, and especially humidity, pose much greater challenges.

GD: You're talking about fatigue?

BH: You bet. There's is a "wilt factor", both for the man and his Circle Me Bert signs. I’ve found the best place to MST for wilting is at a health club. Unfortunately, lots of places want to claim they have policies against bringing signs into the men’s steam room. Especially when you're fully clothed.

GD: You get hassled?

BH: Well, usually by the third visit they'll insist I remove my clothes and leave the signs behind. At that point I’ll start MST-ing my accessories. That's when the younger guys -- I'm talking about health club security – they’ll start playing a little rough. The older guys, the guys who know their U.S. history, they tend to be more careful. I see them looking at me like, "That can't be him, can it?"

GD: You're referring to your astonishing resemblance to Henry Kissinger.

BH: Exactly right. I think there may be an intimidation factor there. (laughs). I clear out before they realize you're probably not going to find Henry Kissinger in a Minneapolis steam room straddling a donkey-headed broomstick while wearing nothing but cowboy boots and a Circle Me Bert sombrero.

GD: Pieces of a Don Quixote assemblage?

BH: One of my favorite Circle Me Burt ensembles. But look, if you're prepared to leave behind your conventional paper signs and your accessories, a men’s steam room can be a really good place to MST your experimental signs. I'm talking about the ones that push and ultimately redefine the boundaries of what constitutes a hand held sign.

GD: Give me an example.

BH: Well, suppose I paint on my chest a picture of me holding a Circle Me Bert sign. Now, suppose the sign in that picture also shows me holding a Circle Me Bert sign. Whose sign in turn shows me holding a Circle Me Bert sign. And so on. Circle Me Bert signs inside of Circle Me Bert signs inside of Circle Me Bert signs.

GD: Where does the Circle Me Bert sign end.

BH: Yes. But more interestingly, where do I end and where does the sign begin? In Heideggerran jargon, has my Being left the behind the realm of Dasein and entered the realm of the Ding an Sich? In layman's terms, have I become, in a profound and exciting way, a Circle Me Bert sign myself?

GD: I never would have thought to go there.

BH: Stay with me. Say I'm wearing this sign at the ballpark and Bert circles me. With the endless regress the picture suggests, have I been circled by Bert just once?

GD: Or an infinite number of times.

BH: Exactly. The phenomenology of the Circle Me Bert experience is just endlessly fascinating. What was once little more than an aside in my book is now a section approaching one hundred pages.

GD: So the move to the new ballpark has helped you explore existential dimensions of the Circle Me Bert experience. Sounds like Target Field has another fan.

BH: Oh no. Not at all. Listen, getting circled by Bert shouldn’t require that you ride a Valley Fair roller coaster to MST your signs against straight line winds. Getting circled shouldn’t require that you drive all the way to a Wisconsin Dells water park to MST your signs against everything from a sprinkle to a cloudburst. Especially when there are so many mothers who get absolutely hysterical when their small children get tangled up and allegedly “pulled under” by the soggy detritus from disintegrating signs. What I’m saying is that with the introduction of the weather elements, we’re talking about another, higher level of preparation and commitment here.

GD: Is that necessarily a bad thing?

BH: Absolutely it’s a bad thing. Look, seeing others getting circled, getting circled if you've cultivated those skills -- that's a huge part of the Twins experience. If the move to Target Field is pushing Circle Me Bert into an extreme sport, what does that do to the participation rates? I think every Minnesotan ought to be asking himself or herself, "Is the move outdoors worth it if we diminish the Circle Me Bert phenomenon in the process?”

GD: And your answer is no.

BH: I’d like to see the Twins move back into the dome.

GD: Wait. You must realize how preposterous that sounds.

BH: It’s not as preposterous as you might think. I’ve started up an organization to push for it. We Like It Here has piqued the interest of some heavy hitters.

GD: For instance?

BH: You’ve heard of Mike Veeck.

GD: Of course. The St. Paul Saints owner.

BH: Lunching with him next week. Then there’s Justin Morneau.

GD: Justin Morneau?

BH: Not sure how he found out about us, but he approached me. He’s been incredibly supportive.

GD: Well, I’d wish We Like It Here the best of luck, but given the popularity of Target Field, that would probably cost me my three readers.

BH: (laughs)

GD: Listen, you mentioned your book. I’ve no doubt it's going to give us a really comprehensive look at all facets of the Circle Me Bert experience. When can we expect it on the shelves?

BH: I still have some work left. They uncovered some primitive hand held sign technologies in a pre-Clovis site in Monte Verde, Chile. Just incredible. That’s forcing me to rework the “origins” section. And then I need to find a publisher. But it’s close.

GD: We’d love to post some excerpts here.

BH: Yeah, maybe. Let me see what I can do.

GD: Great. Thanks for the time, Boone.

BH: Thank you. And win Twins!

Interview with a Circle Me Bert Superstar

Boone Hagarsky suffers for his sport. Sunny summer days spent inside the Metrodome has colored him the cadaverous off-white of the Metrodome ceiling. His failing eyesight and aggressive tinnitus he blames on the stadium's poor lighting and ear-shattering sound system. With his permanent squint and his head perpetually cocked towards his better ear, Hagarsky is a portrait of the man perplexed by something in the middle distance, or perhaps in another dimension. And yet Hagarsky's four-dome-dog a game habit places him unmistakably among the corporeal. Taken altogether, Hagarsky seems to have achieved in his person the impossible: An immense nullity that suggests both the impressive heft and the near-weightlessness of a giant marshmallow man.

Despite these handicaps, Hagarsky has been circled by Bert Blyleven more than any other Twins fan. GameDay caught up with this Circle Me Bert superstar in his studio apartment in Minneapolis.

***

GD: How many times have you been circled?

BH: Twenty-seven and counting.

GD: I think most of them have found their way into a YouTube video montage that’s gone viral. Are you recognized at the Dome?
BH: I think so. People stare at me a lot. But I don’t get approached, if that’s what you mean. Actually, I was asked for an autograph once. But the guy thought I was Henry Kissinger.

GD: The resemblance is astonishing.

BH: So I’ve been told. But why would Henry Kissinger be at the Dome wearing a Circle Me Bert sunflower sign? It made no sense.

GD: Why did you put the video out there?

BH: Well, I know there are a ton of people who would love to be circled by Bert just once. I guess I hope the video inspires people to chase that dream, and that it also acts as a tutorial of sorts for people just getting started.

GD: But it just boils down to holding a sign over your head, right?

BH: No, not at all. Listen, there’s a hell of a lot more to getting circled than just holding a sign over your head. I mean, if that’s all there was to it, then what have you accomplished? Why get so excited? "Hey everybody, look at me! I’m on TV! Yay!” Maybe if you’re a little kid you feel that way. But a grown adult? It’s not like Bert’s circling imbeciles out there.

GD: I’ve pushed a button.

BH: Well, I don’t think people understand the preparation that goes into getting circled.

GD: You mean the sign making piece?

BH: See, that’s what I’m talking about. Yeah, the signage is important. But I could give you the best sign in my collection and unless you spend some time with it away from the game you're not going to be circled.

GD: I’m not following you. Are you talking about practicing?

BH: Definitely. That camera can come at you from any direction. So right there you’ve got 360 degrees to worry about. There’s the angle of tilt on your sign. You’d better have that calibrated to the angle of the camera. And then Bert can pull that pen out at any time, and you want to snap right into your presentation stance. So there’s a muscle memory element there.

GD: Do you work this out in front of the mirror?

BH: Sometimes mirrors. Dressing room mirrors work great -- you can analyze your presentation from multiple angles. Even better than that are in-store security video monitors.

GD: Don't the stores mind you doing this?

BH: Sometimes. Actually, all of the time. I’ve been banned from just about every Super America between here and the Iron Range. And then there are the arrests and all that you’ve got to deal with when they take you downtown and throw you in with the perverts. But this is what I’m talking about. If you want to be circled, there’s a price to pay. There’s a price.

GD: Let’s get back to the signs themselves. What makes a good sign?

BH: Well, that’s going to be a big part of my book, so right now I don't want to go into the crafting aspect. But here again, preparation is key. You want to do your research. You can uncover just a treasure trove of ideas and inspiration if you study the history of the hand-held sign.

GD: There’s a history there?

BH: (laughs) Believe it or not we Minnesotans didn't invent the hand-held sign.

GD: How far back does the hand-held sign go?

BH: Well, there is some pretty compelling evidence that Jesus Christ used hand-helds.

GD: That’s unbelievable.

BH: Not really when you look at the crafting aspect if this. Lots of times I’m sitting there and an idea just comes out of nowhere. Ten or twelve or fourteen hours later I’m looking at a finished sign and I know that my rationality played absolutely no role in that exercise.

GD: Does this “divine madness” touch you when you’re presenting the signs?

BH: I think it does. At least, I can tell when Bert is in the process of circling me. I don’t know where that comes from.

GD: How can you tell?

BH: I’m talking physically. My muscles tighten. I flush. I start to tremble. My nostrils flare uncontrollably. I pant like a dog. And then there’s a prominent, and frankly, quite embarrassing reaction that I don’t want to get into here.

GD: That sounds pretty uncomfortable.

BH: Well, I think of it more like a heightening. It’s like when you go into combat.

GD: You’ve seen combat?

BH: I did a Civil War re-enactment once. Gettysburg. Battle of.

GD: Last question: have you ever met Bert?

BH: Nope. Don’t want to either. I don’t want favoritism to play any part in this. I want to be circled for my excellence.

GD: Thanks for your time.

Summer Baseball Heats Up in the NWL!

It's almost mid-season for the Northwoods League and the races are really getting interesting now. Unlike most baseball leagues that you may be familiar with, the NWL has division winners for the first half as well as the second half of the season. Those first half winners are granted a bid in the playoffs at the end of the season. So, with just a shade under two weeks left before the All-Star break, it's starting to feel like end-of-season baseball.

In the North Division, the Manakto Moondogs have been in the lead pretty much since the season began. The still lead with a 19-12 record, but they have company at the top. The Rochester Honkers are right behind them at 18-12. The St. Cloud Riverbats are within striking distance with a 16-14 record, but they've won 7 straight, so they could make things interesting.

The South Division has been a tighter race all along and suddenly, it's a traffic jam at the top. The Wisconsin Woodchucks (Wausau) have been up at the top most of the season and now find themselves tied with the red-hot Madison Mallards for the division lead at 20-10. A strong La Crosse Loggers squad is right on their tails at 19-11.

If I were to pick an early, first-half MVP for the NWL my ballot would go for Eric Stephens of the Rochester Honkers. The junior infielder from Cal-State Fullerton is hitting at a .377 (tied for 1st) clip with 5 home runs (also a tie for 1st), 31 rbi (2nd), 11 stolen bases (tied for 3rd), 11 doubles (tied for 1st) and a .642 slugging percentage (1st). He's not just a stat stud, he's a big reason that the Mankato Moondogs are looking at Rochester in their rear view mirror as the Honkers are charging up. Honorable Mention: Derek Melton, 1B, La Crosse Loggers.

I Blinked...What Happened in the Northwoods League?

Okay, I got off to a slow start this year. I've been so busy hitting the party deck at the Lumberyard (Copeland Park in La Crosse) that I plum forgot to sit down and get my blog going. Now, as we finish up about three weeks of play, it's time to update everyone on how things are going for our college guys trying to make a splash. (Ooh...speaking of a splash...Waterloo's stadium is has a better chance of seeing a bass tournament than a Bucks game anytime soon. It's completely underwater.)

At this point there are two teams in the NWL that just seem to be way ahead of the pack. In the North Division, the Mankato Moondogs are dominating with a 14-4 record. Behind them is Rochester with a respectable 11-6 tally and then the rest of the pack just sort of follows along. In the South Division it's Jim Gantner's Wisconsin Woodchucks leading the way at a dominant 15-3 clip. Madison and La Crosse are tied behind the Chucks with 12-6 records each.

Since the College World Series and the Team USA tryouts are still going on, a lot of teams are still waiting on some of their top signees to arrive, so things can turn around in a hurry. I know I was stoked to see Brian Morgado (104 strikeouts in 80.1 innings pitched at Tennessee this spring), but he's still trying to land a spot on Team USA. Bummer. (Well, not for him!)

So who are the players that are whoopin' up so far? Here's the short list of early NWL studs.

Derek McCallum - St. Cloud River Bats - .439 avg, 17 runs, 15 RBI (That's a solid contributor.)
Carlos Ramirez - Mankato Moondogs - .422 avg, 17 RBI, .641 slugging (a doubles machine!)
Eric Stephens - Rochester Honkers - .350, 3 hrs, 20 RBI. (This guy puts runs on the board.)

Phil Haig - Rochester Honkers - 2-0, .038 ERA in 24 innings pitched. (There are some 3-win pitchers...but .038 in that many innings? That's a stud.)
Aaron Varnum - Wisc. Woodchucks - 6 saves, 10 K's in 10 innings. (6 saves in 15 wins? Nice.)
Chris Sale - La Crosse Loggers - 2-1 with 31 K's in 25 innings. (Tall, lefty...keep and eye on this guy.)


I started out my season by hitting Madison, La Crosse, and Rochester on opening weekend and then put back-to-back-to-back games together in La Crosse this past weekend. Not a bad way to start my summer. Keep checkin' in and I'll keep giving you updates and some insights into the coolest baseball league around.

Northwoods Baseball is Here at Last!

Finally, the Northwoods Baseball season is upon us! I feel like a nervous college kid knocking on a stranger's door. I've heard about her. I've listened to others give their opinions. But a blind date is still a blind date. You just don't know what you'll find when you open that door, no matter how much you try to figure it out before hand.

By the time the Major League season rolls around in April, we all have a pretty good idea who are the "haves" and who are the "have nots." Sure, there are some surprises here and there (can you say "Rays?") but over all, we know who will be contenders in the end.

The Northwoods League is nothing like that. No matter what kind of numbers these kids put up during their college season, you just don't know what they'll do with with (or against) wood bats. Plus, you get to add the drama of players showing up days, even weeks, late for the season because their college program made it into the College World Series. Every team can legitimately believe that they have what it takes to win it all.

I love the league. Make no mistake. But at heart, I really am La Crosse Loggers fan, so now I need to go, put on my best outfit, grab my corsage (beer) and open that door to see what blind date looks like this season.

Please don't be ugly. Please don't be ugly. Please don't be ugly!

The important things

So, I'll call Liriano's return a tentative success, but we learned something even more important from Sunday's game: Bert Blyleven is a swinger.

(I hope someone put's that comment up on YouTube. Anyone with a TiVo?)

Inside the Mind of a Batting Practice Ball Hawk

Barry Bonds’ 762nd – and possibly last – home run generated a mad scramble for the baseball. In the middle of that scrum was Jake Frazier. Frazier, a notorious Bay Area ball hawk who claims he missed out on the Bonds ball because he was “stoned to the bone”, had this to say about his technique:

If I hip-checked that guy, he wouldn't ****' be standin' up...it's a baseball, man, it's a prize. You have to be aggressive. If you're not aggressive, you won't get it. You're out there playin' in a metal and concrete jungle, and there's people competing, so yeah, you know, you get little scrapes and bruises."

I sat down with Jake Frazier and got inside the mind of a batting practice ball hawk.

***

My first moment with one of Major League Baseball’s most notorious ball hawks took my breath away. No sooner had I introduced myself than Jake Frazier slipped inside my handshake and delivered a short, powerful uppercut to my stomach.

“Sorry about that, dude,” Frazier said, helping me to my feet. “Had to establish dominance.”

Meet Jake Frazier, a twenty-six year old San Francisco Giants fan who works in the medical marijuana business when he is not gobbling up batting practice balls at AT&T Park. His remarkable ball hawking success – Frazier has captured thousands of baseballs over the years – is as unusual as his fierce enthusiasm for a pastime most men leave behind in their pubescence. Frazier has denied so many a chance at a baseball over the years that his name has become an anathema to the dispossessed. They will tell you that when Frazier’s beaten you to a baseball, and possibly beaten you with a baseball, you’ve not just lost the scramble for a souvenir.

You’ve been Jaked.

***

Frazier first spotted his opportunity a few years ago when he arrived at the ballpark early. Kids hustling for batting practice home runs caught his eye.

“Anytime I see a crowd of little dudes going after something, I’m like, ‘I’m a big dude. I can have that.’”

Frazier grew even more excited when he recognized that the youngsters’ poor hand-eye coordination made for some exceptionally weak competition.

“I mean there were balls bouncing off their gloves, balls bouncing of their heads. Boink! Little dudes were clueless. I knew I could do better.”

It was only after wading into the youngsters that the 6-4, 240 pound Frazier realized he had his work cut out for him. His lack of a ground game often meant his aggressive checking worked against him.

“Yeah, someone hits a baseball my way and – boom! – little dudes flying left and right. Looks like a keg of dynamite going off in a Popsicle stick factory. But then the ball lands, and if I’m not right on top of the spot the ball’s rolling around on the ground. Little dudes are down there already. They move fast. Advantage: little dudes.”

Frazier realized that if we wanted to dominate the ball-hawking game, he needed a technique that would put the ball in his glove in the end, even if it didn’t start there to begin with. A television program about the interrogation of suspected terrorists led to an epiphany.

“I'm watching this show and suddenly I’m like, dude! So next time I’m at the game and a little dude beats me to the ball, I pin his ankles together with one hand, lift him off the ground, and waterboard him with my cup of Pepsi. Little dude drops the ball real quick. But I’m out a Pepsi. Not cool, man. Money doesn’t grow on trees in the medical marijuana business. “

Eventually, Frazier abandoned the technique for one he had mastered long ago while prowling the halls of his junior high school. It was while discussing this move with me that Frazier decided a demonstration was in order.

It was a demonstration I would regret.

“Let me show you what I do,” Frazier said. Displaying a quickness that belied his tremendous bulk, Frazier snaked around behind me and reached inside my belt. Suddenly I was jerked off my feet.

“Little dude picks up ball. I pick up little dude by the undies. If he doesn’t drop the ball right away, I’ll bounce him. Like this.”

Frazier began working me like a yo-yo.

“At some point, he drops the ball.”

I did not doubt that. The pain was excruciating.

“Before I let little dude go I’ll turn him around, get up in his grill, and say, ‘Congratulations, little dude. You’ve been Jaked.’”

***

I asked Frazier if he thought he might be taking his pursuit of batting practice baseballs too seriously. What was another baseball, when he had thousands already? Wouldn’t a baseball mean more to a youngster who didn’t have a single one?

Frazier insisted I was missing the point. For him, the bleachers represent a metal and concrete jungle. Frazier sits on top of the food chain.

“Dude, when a lion sees a monkey walking down a path in the jungle, does he tap the monkey on the shoulder and say, ‘Pardon me little monkey dude, do you mind if I eat you?’ No way dude. Monkey gets eaten, no questions asked. Circle of life, man.”

Frazier did admit that having dominated the ball-hawking game for so long, he was looking for another challenge. He thinks he might have found one in autographs.

“I see these little dudes lined up for autographs. What if I get in that game? Man, those little dudes stand no chance."

The Sage Of Minneapolis: An Ode To Dan Barreiro

A few days ago Twins Geek made an interesting post about paradigms. To summarize, paradigms are the lenses through which we view the world. Through our paradigms, some aspects of our environment are drawn into sharper focus while others are obscured. The larger point is that the reality behind the paradigm does not change: a paradigm-free perspective would perceive an unfiltered reality, whereas a paradigm-generated perspective shades things.

So far so good. But now we toe contested ground. Some would have it that there is no such thing as a paradigm-free perspective. For instance, those who allege a "liberal bias" in the mainstream media claim that media members’ liberal paradigms inform everything they report, including what issues they choose to cover. Stepping outside of those paradigms and reporting objectively is not possible, the claim contends. Others believe that we can step outside of our paradigms long enough to view and process reality objectively.

As an old philosophy major I'm aware that the above was a gloss on a controversy loaded with complexity. Nevertheless, I think the positions at stake are clear enough. I also believe that the paradigm-centric assumption has a profoundly negative effect on our discourse. Not only does the position discourage people from attempting to stake out objective perspectives on issues; its prevailing status as conventional wisdom discourages us from criticizing those who broadcast ostensibly "objective", but evidently agenda-driven, points of view. Why challenge the intellectually dishonest if all argumentation is paradigm driven and thus biased in some way?

I do believe that we have the ability to mostly shed our paradigms and consider the world from a mostly objective point of view. I don't believe that to do so is easy. A paradigm simplifies the world by setting reality into a pre-configured mold. In addition, paradigms allow for a community of paradigm-sharers to find solace in the company of others who have predictably similar perspective on things. To step outside of one's paradigms is to step away from the security of those paradigms and to face a world full of frustrating nuance and complexity.

But with what values, one might ask. Shed the paradigms and don’t you shed the value systems that are the product of them?

Not entirely. Leave behind the paradigms and one is left with a commitment to taking the world as it is without “spinning” it so that it will fit into a paradigm. The paradigm-free make a virtue of intellectual honesty.

For reasons I won’t get into so as not to make a long post longer, I do think the world would be a better place if we were quick to brand the intellectually dishonest with a Scarlet D. And I think more would be inclined to think critically and with a healthy independence if we celebrated the intellectual honesty of those who attempt to process the world paradigm-free. Which brings me to former Star Tribune sports columnist and current KFAN radio personality Dan Barreiro.

As a columnist, Barreiro's contrarian spirit and his willingness to savage the eminently savagable raised faint echoes of H.L. Mencken. That echo has grown even louder as his radio personality has evolved over the years. Barreiro doesn't suffer fools lightly, and his willingness to take a hatchet to purveyors of ignorance, intolerance, and fraudulence rivals Mencken’s own motivations in tone and tenor if not in the quality of the resulting criticism. When I listen to Barreiro, I am greeted with the same thought that visits me when I read Mencken: here is someone who both values and practices intellectual honesty, who desires nothing more (and nothing less) than to view the world objectively.

I believe his body of work supports this interpretation. As exhibit A I’d point to the befuddlement with which a certain segment of his listenership greets his program. The frequency with which his callers and e-mailers accuse him of being, alternately, liberal and conservative, is both laughable and distressing. Laughable because the accusations see-saw as conclusions arrived at without the assistance of a paradigm driven-agenda take on an alternatively liberal or conservative hue. Distressing because the comments demonstrate that some accustomed to paradigm-driven, intellectually dishonest talk radio don't know what to make of someone who is intellectually honest. These listeners seem troubled that you cannot approach Barreiro’s show with the same confidence you can approach so many shows up and down the AM dial. In fact it is not possible to predict how Barreiro will respond to any given subject by holding that subject up against an agenda. After fifteen years listening I still don't know exactly where his politics lay. I offer that as a form of tribute.

Before you suggest he and I get a room, I’ll mention here that I don’t believe that Barreiro is above criticism. His fondness for creating, and then destroying, argumentative straw men can make his criticism gratuitous at times. His “Done as a Society” segment, for instance, which features bizarre or troubling news items, is related with an incredulity that suggests he believes he is the last sane man in America. Likewise, on the subject of local sports, his tendency to find a cloud behind every silver lining draws him perilously close to paradigmatic-blinkered thinking: at times Barreiro seems programmed to see the negative to the exclusion of the positive.

Still, even these tendencies can make for colorful, entertaining radio. And I don’t believe they detract from his accomplishment, which has been to carve out in the competitive drive time slot a radio program that has managed to remain intelligent, eclectic, and above all, intellectually honest. Barreiro may not be another H.L. Mencken. He’s the closest we have to him in this market however. For that I believe he has earned our respect.

Jim Souhan's Lazy Journalism

Jim Souhan devoted his Sunday column to cataloguing local reaction to epochal events in Minnesota sports. The public’s supposedly unanimous responses -- “Minnesotans hated these deals”-- to moves that worked out well served as a refrain that lent the piece a satisfying cohesion, stylistically speaking.

That the refrain also painted a misleading picture did not seem to concern Souhan. How else to explain his decision to include among the "hated" moves the decision to draft Joe Mauer over Mark Prior in the 2001 draft? No doubt some observers felt that the Twins were choosing the lesser but more affordable talent in Mauer. But to suggest that Minnesotans in general hated this deal? Didn’t the excitement surrounding that pick suggest that most took pride in the selection? I suspect that Souhan decided to include the Mauer pick near the end of his list because the pick turned out so spectacularly well, and the suggestion that Minnesotans hated the pick served as a fine exclamation point to his contention that Minnesotans react with knee-jerk and ultimately myopic unanimity to sports related events.

Of course the obvious problem with that contention is that it is wrong. Turn on sports talk radio or enter the Minnesota sports blogsphere and you’ll discover a diversity local opinion on most any local sporting subject you’ll care to name. To remain ignorant of, or possibly ignore, that diversity for the sake of thematic and stylistic integrity of a piece is to engage in lazy journalism.

Souhan is the Crown Prince (or rather the Court Jester) of lazy journalism in that his pieces are loosely constructed and typically favor glib humor over analysis. That approach makes for entertaining, but rarely informative, pieces. As someone who relies at least as much on humor as analysis in his own writing, I’d be a hypocrite to suggest that there is no place for his style of writing in the sports page. I will suggest, however, that Souhan ought to recognize where his contribution rates among those who elevate substance over style.

Certainly that substance is out there. There are local bloggers who write some very informative stuff. For instance, Nick Nelson, Aaron Gleeman, Ubelmann and company over at SBG, the crew at Twins Territory, Kyle Eliason, John Sharkey, the inimitable John Bonnes (aka Twins Geek), and a host of others frequently featured at MNGameDay.com and whom I do a disservice by failing to mention often write posts steeped in detailed, research-driven analysis.

Which brings me to a throwaway line in Sunday’s throwaway piece:

“Gentle readers – and bloggers who remain ever-hopeful of gainful employment – hate everything about the (Santana) deal…. And they remind me that I must be wrong, because Minnesotans’ gut reactions are always right."

The implication in this line – and indeed in the entire piece – is that bloggers base their opinion on their gut, whereas Souhan bases his opinion on informed argument. Certainly one might argue that this should be the case. With the exception of Gleeman, the bloggers I have mentioned are not full time scribes. They are college students and business men and women and blue and white collar professionals who shoehorn their blogging into crowded lives. Indeed, it is precisely because bloggers are gainfully employed by organizations that don’t pay them to write that one would expect to discover in their works a species of lazy journalism. Likewise, it is precisely because Jim Souhan is gainfully employed by a newspaper that pays him to research and to write that one would expect much research-backed analysis.

That this is not always the case -- that Souhan’s Sunday column stands as an exemplar of his loose, style-driven approach while MNGameday.com is loaded with links to research-driven blogs -- suggests that, at the very least, when Souhan tars the purveyors of relatively uninformed sports commentary, he feathers himself in the process.

Mocked NFL Draft: The First Ten Picks

So we only know baseball, you say? Bah. Gameday projects the first ten picks of the 2008 NFL Draft.

1. Miami (1-15)
The Pick: Bill Germanokos, OL, Winner of NBC's "Biggest Loser"
The buzz: In Germanakos, NFL’s biggest loser lands a proven winner already accustomed to humiliating himself on national television. Should have no problem regaining dirigible proportions; elephantine buttocks could anchor O-line for a decade.

2. St. Louis (3-13)
The Pick: Paul Douglas, QB, Meteorologist
The buzz: Consensus number two a supremely talented backpedaller who always manages to avoid being exposed when fronts collapse. Polished, cerebral improviser has mostly dodged concerns over accuracy. Toolset includes spectacular Doppler Unit. Needs to bulk up a bit.

x - 3. Atlanta (4-12)
The Pick: Steve Irwin (deceased), QB, Animal Planet’s "The Crocodile Hunter"
The buzz: After the Vick debacle, Falcons must rate character over physical ability. Strong commitment to animal rights will offset Irwin's figurative, literal lack of pocket presence.

x - 4. Oakland (4-12)
The Pick: Pat Robertson, RB, Host, The 700 Club
The buzz: Al Davis and company looking for battering-ram type back. Robertson, who believes the earth is 9000 years old, comes with rocks in his head.

x - 5. Kansas City (4-12)
The Pick: Rachael Ray, OL, Celebrity Chef
The buzz: Chief's once dominant O-line in need of some help. Ray is a pancake machine. A no-brainer here.

6. N.Y. Jets (4-12)
The Pick: Fox NFL Robot, DT, Fox NFL Pregame Show
The buzz: Robot tumbles all the way to six after disappointing Super Bowl showing against the Terminator. Jets enamored with jumping, knee bending, finger pointing abilities.

7. New England (From SF (5-11))
The Pick: Cloverfield monster, DE
The buzz: Monster has size, strength to dominate the edges. Performance in East River puts to rest doubts concerning swim technique. Patriots love proven track record against New York.

8. Baltimore (5-11)
The Pick: Michael Jackson, RB, Pop Superstar
The buzz: Shifty and elusive with plenty of dazzle. Scouts agog over unusual "moonwalking" gait, which can make him seem to go forward even while he's losing ground. Nose for football, nose lacking.

9. Cincinnati (7-9)
The Pick: David Blaine, WR, Street Magician
The buzz: Dynamic performer with great hands and magical skills. Signature levitation move will make him unstoppable in end zone fade routes.

10. New Orleans (7-9)
The Pick: Dennis Kucinich, LB, U.S. Representative
The buzz: New Orleans in desperate need of Douglas and his Doppler but may have to settle for Kucinich instead. Tenacious but undersized, inability to range to his right limits his appeal. Probably a reach here.

Tim Tschida's Neighbor Questioned: The Shocking Transcript

Yesterday, Major League Baseball was accused of sending investigators into umpires’ hometowns to ask neighbors “ill-contrived questions”, a form of background checking that some likened to the actions of a secret police. Gameday's crack investigative team has secured the transcript of one such conversation between major league baseball investigator Tom Christopher and a long-time neighbor of St. Paul native and MLB umpire Tim Tschida.

***

Hello ma’am. My name's Tom Christopher (TC) and I'm with Major League Baseball. We're talking to neighbors of our umpiring crew. Just want to make sure we have the right people for the job. Mind if I ask you a few questions?

I don't have a lot of time--

TC: Won't take but a few moments. Here, let's just get started. How long have you known Mr. Tschida?

Well, since he and his wife moved in next door. That was quite a while ago. Ten years?

TC: Are they nice neighbors?

Oh yes. Very nice.

TC: No disruptive behavior? Wild parties? Visits from the police?

Oh no. Just normal people.

TC: Have you been in their basement?

Their basement? I don't think so.

TC: Bear with me now. Has Mr. Tschida ever offered you a “poop sack"?

What?

TC: A spliff? A doobie?

I don't—

TC: Marijauna, ma’am.

Marijauna? They're not growing marijuana, if that's what you're asking.

TC: Fine. Has his wife ever stopped by with a swollen, bloodied face and said, "I can't see nuthin. You gotta open my eye. Cut me, Mick."

What? My name's not Mick--

TC: That's a Rocky reference, ma’am. Victims of domestic violence will often use humor to cover up incidents of abuse.

But he doesn't abuse his wife --

TC: This wife of his, has she said that Mr. Tschida regurgitates his food? Stamps the ground while she's folding red towels? Moos plaintively, or possibly with window-rattling violence, during lovemaking?

What on earth --

TC: Side effects of certain performance enhancing injections. Steer hormones, specifically. Doesn’t ring a bell? Fine. Does Mr.Tschida believe in reincarnation?

I haven’t the slightest. Why?

TC: Their's not to reason why. Their's but to do and die.

Excuse me?

TC: A bit of Tennyson, ma’am. The sort of thing that a reincarnated member of the 19th century planter class might drop into casual conversation. Ever hear Mr. Tschida say something like that?

I'm not following you.

TC: I'll cut to the chase then. What are the chances that Mr. Tschida owns slaves?

Um, about one in a billion?

TC: So, you're saying there's a chance?

That's not even funny.

TC: Wasn't meant to be. Has Mr. Tschida ever flown a passenger jet into a building?

A passenger jet? Wouldn't he be dead if he did that?

TC: Technically speaking, yes. We'd be dealing with a zombie then.

A zombie?

TC: A zombie. Your arm. Has he eaten it?

Eaten my arm? You mean, actually eaten my arm?

TC: Yes.

Does it look like it?

TC: Could be a prosthetic.

This is a joke, right?

TC: Ma’am, I wish. Have you heard of Tim Donaghy? He's an NBA referee who bet on games he officiated. We can't allow a Donaghy into our umpire crews. So we're covering all the bases, if you'll pardon the pun.

But -- a zombie? Zombies don't even exist.

TC: Maybe not. Can't be too careful, though. Now then, crop circles. Have they appeared in his backyard?

He doesn't have any crops--

TC: Bright lights? A cigar-shaped craft?

You mean a UFO?

TC: Is Mr. Tschida a pod person?

(stunned silence)

TC: I need you to focus, ma’am. Is Tim Tschida a pod person?

No, he’s not a pod person. What's that helicopter—

TC: Never mind the helicopter. Nothing to see there.

I think I have to go now.

TC: Please don't make me waterboard you, ma’am.

Waterboard? What? What are you doing?

TC: Henderson, secure the witness!

Who's that? What's he doing in my bushes? Wait! Isn't that -- that's Bill Johnson!

TC: No, that's Jim Henderson, ma’am. He's been surveiling the area.

But he's been my mailman for four years!

TC: Deep cover, ma’am.

Now hold on! You can't do this!

TC: Ma’am, I work for a man with the power to contract entire franchises out of existence. I can do anything.

Truck Commercials: Like A Crock

Televised football with its frequent breaks usually finds the sun of my intellect partially eclipsed by a fast-approaching, truck-commercial induced brain aneurysm. On Sunday, I fear that aneurysm struck as the cognitive equivalent of a global killer. For today I feel compelled to go out and buy a pickup truck.

Not so long ago I believed that I lived in a nation of paved roads. Not anymore. Pickup truck commercials have convinced me that I'll have to drive up and over the Ozarks to get to the grocery store. Probably I'll be hauling something -- a bunch of rocks, or possibly a disabled eighteen-wheeler. Somewhere along the way I'll find myself braking at the maw of a bottomless crevice, that after navigating a gigantic, erector set obstacle course that threatens me with plunging, skyscraper-high steel beams. Carhartt-accessorized men in hardhats will look on. They will cheer me.

But not only men. Admiring women will recognize the strong correlation between the size of my truck and the size of my genetalia. What's more, the wholesome manliness of my vehicle will send my pituitary gland into a compensatory overdrive, flooding my testicles with testosterone-producing hormones. Probably some will gaze at my suddenly splendid physique and impossibly strong chin and mistake me for Fox NFL analyst Howie Long. Of course I will set them straight. Guys capable of slamming shut with authority a door on the bed of a truck hardly require the security of a contrived identity.

It’s pleasant to imagine myself rolling up to my place in a shiny new truck. That rusting Mazda 626 always parked on the street will remind me that some would sacrifice their manhood to the false idol of a superior fuel efficiency. "Poor bastard," I'll mutter, forgetting for the moment, and probably forever, that I drove that car once. And as the sun sets on another star-spangled day, I'll lay my head down pondering a question that has troubled me since the first telecast of this NFL season : am I really getting everything that I need from my cell phone plan?

A Perfect Evening

I had all of these big plans to start writing here regularly again, but I got sick instead. Shameful. In an attempt to jump-start my productivity, I camped out with a laptop in front of Saturday’s Patriots-Giants Quest for Perfection. Apparently, this game was a big deal…
-----
The Giants hit a deep one to Burress on the second play of the game—an excellent grab. I haven’t even had the chance to figure out which channel I want to watch this thing on. So many choices. Unfortunately, everybody is just using the NFL Network feed, meaning there is no escape from the horror that is Bryant Gumbel. It’s like listening to Kermet the Frog calling a game. Tom Coughlin just wasted a challenge on a pretty obvious incomplete pass, too. Nice work.

We really should have just gotten every network involved here. Think of the possibilities:
Discovery Channel:
Bear Grylls shows you how to survive if you ever find yourself being chased by the Giants’ pass rush. DISCLAIMER: Bear may in fact let his crew take the beating, then take credit for it on camera.
Lifetime:
Instead of showing the game, we get a made-for-TV movie about the trials of Bridget Moynahan’s struggles as a single mother.
MTV:
Pseudo-reality shows about people who kind of like football, and occasionally talk about it, but mostly just spend their time going to crappy clubs and doing embarrassing crap.
VH1:
The Top 50 Plays from tonight’s game, as commented upon by C-list comedians.

New York finishes off an impressive opening drive with a score; 7-0 G-Men. Perhaps we’ll have a game tonight—the Giants are pumped. The Patriots answer with a figgy, after Brady overthrows Moss in the end zone. This next possession for New York is a big one. If they can answer right back with another score, the pressure will be on New England in a hurry.

…or not. Three and out, and the Pats take over at midfield. And just when it looks like the Giants came up with a huge third down stop, a sketchy illegal contact call gives New England a fresh set of downs. That’s the sort of swing that can really change a game. Yikes. The Pats roll down the field, getting a first and goal from the six as the first quarter ticks down. Randy Moss takes a hell of a shot to the head, but returns after a short break…

…just in time to make a spectacular touchdown catch. That score breaks the single-season scoring record (sorry, 1998 Vikings), Brady ties Manning for the single-season passing touchdown record, and Moss ties Rice for the single-season receiving touchdown record. Plus, Moss gets a 15-yard unsportsmanlike, apparently because Kool-Ade Maroney decided to dance a bit. Alright, then. Quite the eventful play: 10-7 Pats.

Zounds! The Pats have to kick off from their own 15, and the Giants promptly take it to the house. This is going to be fun. Maybe I’ll actually have a reason to watch past halftime—unless, of course, Gumbel drives me to commit capital crimes. Don’t think it can’t happen. Another Gostkowski field goal leaves us at 14-13 Giants, by the way.

Not only are NBC and CBS using the NFLN game feed: they are apparently having to run the same commercials, too. That seems strange. I wonder how the revenue for that gets split up. Did Snickers just have to pay three different networks for that spot? If not, what are NBC and CBS getting out of this? More questions than answers, my friends.

The Giants seem to be taking the bend-don’t-break approach. A potential Brady-to-Moss score bounces off of a New York helmet, so the Pats settle for yet another field goal. 16-14 now, and I’ve discovered the Dave Chappelle Killing Them Softly special running on Comedy Central. Classic. But, I must maintain focus. New York really hasn’t been doing much, when you think about it. New England has wasted a few chances, and that kick return is keeping the Giants close. Easily the most one-sided 16-14 game I’ve seen.

…I should stop saying things like that. The Giants march straight down the field for the score, running a snazzy two-minute drill. 21-16 Giants heading to halftime, and at least I get a Gumbel break.

Back from the half, the Patriots are going to have to wake up soon. They open the half with a punt, and now the Giants are crossing into enemy territory. Brandon Jacobs is starting to rip off some big chunks of yardage on the ground, and New England is reeling.

Yes sir, real trouble now. A Burress touchdown, and we’re at 28-16. New England looks flat. Well, let me amend that: the New England defense looks flat. Tom Brady is having an excellent game, other than the whole lots-of-field-goals thing. The Pats are headed right down the field, inside the Giants 30. New York is getting a lot of pressure on Brady, but so far the Golden Boy has been able to stand in there.

Ski-U-Mah, kids. Maroney dances in from six yards out, leaving us at 28-23. This is going to come down to the New England defense: if they knock the lead out, the Pats have a good chance. But as long as Eli keeps the Giants moving down the field, Shula will be a happy man...

A change in tactics for New England on the next drive, as they really start to ramp up the pressure on Eli. We cross over into the fourth quarter: Pats ball at about the 25 after a Giants punt, still at 28-23.

The Giants hold this time, and force the punt. 13 minutes left, Pats down 5.

I assume NFLN is trying to make a positive impression on all of the people watching this feed who don’t get the channel. That’s why I’m confused by the existence of this strange mail-bag feature they keep running. Some guy named Dukes keeps popping up to answer viewer e-mail, but it’s the same ones every time. Just so we’re clear: Tom Brady is the MVP, and Bill Parcells knows something about football. We’ll be reminded of this another half-dozen times, I’m sure.

The Giants are not exactly milking this clock. A fumbled snap, a dropped pass, and now a pre-snap timeout. They have the chance to really put the screws to the Pats here, but aren’t taking advantage. Their third-down pass comes up short, so the punt goes back to New England.

Whoa boy. Brady had Moss wide open waaaaaaaaaay downfield, but the throw is short and Moss doesn’t manage to haul it in. Of course, on the next play, Brady drills Moss down the sidelines for the touchdown. Just an incredible sequence. Records fall, and Giants Stadium gets very quiet. Maroney runs in the conversion: 31-28 Pats, with 11 minutes left. I can’t get over those back-to-back Moss throws. Scary stuff. Can Eli respond? The Giants looked pretty bad on their last possession.

Somewhere on the kick return, there was a personal foul on the Giants that push them back around the 20. No one can quite figure out why, though. A quick holding penalty, too, on a nice first-down run. Are the Giants self-destructing?

The answer appears to be yes: Ellis Hobbs picks off Manning. He does a nice job getting both feet down, too. The Pats have a chance to work up some breathing room, and Brady is playing well.

On third and 11, Brady dumps one off to Kevin Faulk, and Faulk breaks a few tackles on his way to a first down. That’s a huuuuuuuge play, and New England is creeping inside the red zone now. Another third-and-long conversion to Welker, inside the 10 now with five minutes left. Welker has 11 catches tonight.

Allow me to gloat: Ski-U-Mah! Another Maroney touchdown. 38-28 now, and the Giants are searching for signs of life.

We reach the two-minute warning with the Giants inside the Pats 20. They’re really taking their sweet time, though. Very odd. They let a solid 30 seconds tick off between plays just now, bringing us all the way down to 1:18, second and goal from the 4. They eventually get the score to a wide-open Burress (the safety fell down in the end zone), so we’ve got a game again. 38-35, with 1:04 left. Cheers for the onside kick!

Pats recover. With that, it’s game over and 16-0. Now the pressure really starts. The Giants looked pretty good tonight, actually. It’ll be interesting to see if they carry that into the playoffs. That’s not really the story here, though…

GM 2 GM

A recent item in the Pioneer Press contained this tidbit:

"We've had a number of talks on a lot of different fronts," Smith said.

Those talks, which apparently never resumed Thursday because most teams cleared out early, will resume by phone, e-mail and text messages over the next few weeks.

Naturally, this got us very curious as to what exactly goes on when two GMs text each other. And, thanks to a loophole in FISA, Batgirl was able to obtain this super secret transcript of one such conversation between new Twins GM Bill Smith and the Red Sox's Theo Epstein, which she posts here for your edification.

[Need help? click here]

TE: yo homes its theO
BS: sup sk8er
TE: sup newbie
BS: did u c da rumor bout johan 2 oak 4 dan haren
TE: LOL!!! haren is so lamo
BS: sing out louise!
TE: so wuz da 411
BS: ?
TE: wuz it gunna take 2 get dis deal done
BS: ok we need 1 mlb reD playa & 2 A-level prospects & 1 nice (_(_)
TE: ?
BS: we lost torii if we lose johan we need a nice (_(_)
TE: how nice? not givin u Tek
BS: mayB not A-level (_(_) at least B+ (_(_)
TE: & whoz got B+-level (_(_) IYHO?
BS: ellsbury
TE: 2 things retardo montalban. thing 1: ells has A-level (_(_) ells is 6 tool playa
BS: ?
TE: (_(_) is 6th tool
BS: u a tool
TE: thing 2: u not gettin ells
BS: no deal den no johan no kkkkkkkkkkkkkk
TE: no ells
BS: gotta go txt cashman
TE: ok ok how bout coco coco has A+ (_(_)
BS: stop tryin 2 gimme coco
TE: come on johan 4 coco & his A++++++ (_(_)
BS: how bout johan 4 yr mum?
TE: lv my mum outta dis
BS: ^ yurs
TE: wuz wrong wit coco
BS: u <3 coco so bad
TE: byte me
BS: cocoz yr BF mmmm coco xxxxxx
TE: shuddup bzzzzch
BS: oh one sec BRB
TE: ok
BS: sorry terry ryan wuz here wants job back
TE: OMG! wud u say
BS: i sez screw u baldy da bilzzzzzerz runnin dis show
TE: no u didnt
BS: did 2
TE: OMG! LMFAO!
BS: gotta go project runwayz on
TE: ooooh will give you ells 4 heidi klum ;-)
BS: ha u wish! c u
TE: l8er t8er

False Starts Audit: Playoff Push Edition

Predictions are tough; that’s what I’m learning this year. A combination of hubris and boredom led me to forecast the 2007 NFL season a few months ago, if you recall. Now that we’re coming down the home stretch, I thought this was a good time to check in with those picks, to see how stupid I really am. Come with me. . .

AFC East:

The prediction: Patriots, Jets, Bills, Dolphins
Currently: Patriots, Bills, Jets, Dolphins

It didn’t take a genius to pick New England out of the East. I can’t really pat myself on the back there. The question now is whether or not 19-0 is attainable; that will come down to the Pats’ running game. They’ve really gotten away from running Maroney; if they’re just saving him for the playoffs, I think they’ll be fine. If there’s something else going on there, New England is quite vulnerable.

I mixed around the Jets and Bills, although I wasn’t very high on either of them. The Bills might sneak into one of the Wild Card spots, but overall I’ll take this set of picks.

AFC North:

The prediction: Bengals, Ravens, Steelers, Browns
Currently: Steelers, Browns, Bengals, Ravens

This one. . . was not as pretty. Yeesh. I had some decent things to say about Cleveland, but thought things wouldn’t come together for them until at least 2008. I also didn’t see Derek Anderson coming at all. Whoops. I messed up on the Steelers as well; in the original preview, I said that the three top teams in this division were all good, but Ben Roethlisberger would hold them back. Wrong.

For some reason, I predicted that Steve McNair would regress, but the Ravens would finish second. Uh, dumb? And I really thought the Bengals would just score all over everybody. Rudi Johnson has been hurt, but still. This was an ugly division for me.

AFC South:

The Prediction: Jaguars, Colts, Titans, Texans
Currently: Colts, Jaguars, Titans, Texans

This one would have looked really good, if the Jags could have stolen Sunday’s game against Indy. D’oh. Of course, I was a major Byron Leftwich proponent, and we all know how that turned out (not well). Indy’s defense has not been the major weakness I thought it would be, and they’re sitting pretty at 10-2. Oh well. I was too harsh on the Texans, also. I ripped them hard, and they’ve actually been pretty decent. So, lesson learned.

AFC West:

The Prediction: Broncos, Chargers, Raiders, Chiefs
Currently: Chargers, Broncos, Raiders, Chiefs

Both of the bottom two teams here are pretty stinky overall. The Chiefs are especially bad; at least there’s a glimmer of a future in Oakland. Oh, and: surprise! Larry Johnson got hurt!

The Chargers are pretty junky. I blasted Norv Turner, and he’s largely lived up to his billing. I overestimated the Broncos, however. Especially on defense, where they look awful. This season has raised some questions re: Mike Shanahan’s general competency. Kick to Devin Hester much? Sigh. . . This one is probably over: the Broncos are reeling after a couple of ugly losses, so the Chargers should cruise to a nine- or ten-win season and the playoff spot.

NFC West:

The Prediction: 49ers, Seahawks, Rams, Cardinals
Currently: Seahawks, Cardinals, 49ers, Rams

Yee-ouch. That San Fran pick looks pretty nasty right now, doesn’t it. The lesson: never, ever think Alex Smith is competent. Frank Gore has not exactly been the difference-maker I said he’s be, either. The Seahawks are boring and mediocre, but that’s enough to get the job done in this horrendous division.

The Cardinals are making a little noise, especially after Sunday’s win against the Browns. Sitting at 6-6 now, they have a real shot at a Wild Card spot. We’ll see if Kurt Warner can keep all of his body parts attached. . .

NFC South:

The Prediction: Saints, Panthers, Bucs, Falcons
Currently: Bucs, Panthers, Saints, Falcons

Whither the Saints? They’re making me look pretty bad, here. I still think Tampa Bay sucks, but someone has to win this thing. The Saints occasionally show signs of life, then they do something stupid like losing to the Bucs on Sunday. That was a big loss, and probably put a fork in New Orleans. Carolina continues to be mediocre at best, and the Falcons are awful. At least I got a couple of these picks right.

NFC East:

The Prediction: Eagles, Redskins, Cowboys, Giants
Currently: Cowboys, Giants, Redskins, Eagles

I butchered this one about as badly as I did the AFC North. I ripped on Tony Romo, and declared Donovan McNabb would “play at a high level.” Oh. I pretty much screwed this whole thing up: the Giants haven’t collapsed (yet), the Redskins aren’t looking too hot for a Wild Card, the Cowboys are the class of the conference, and the Eagles suck. Just another day at the office.

NFC North:

The Prediction: Bears, Packers, Vikings, Lions
Currently: Packers, Lions, Vikings, Bears

This one should look a little better a few weeks from now. The Vikings and Bears should blow past Detroit; the Lions are going in the tank. I thought the Packers would be pretty good, but I didn’t expect 10-2. I thought Rex Grossman would blow Chicago’s season, but not until the playoffs. I thought Adrian Peterson would be the Purple Jesus, but the lack of a passing game would cost the Vikings. So, plenty of half-rights and almost-goods. Compared to some of my more brutal divisions, I won’t argue too much.

Super Bowl:

The Prediction: Patriots over Eagles
The New Prediction: Patriots over Packers

Ugh, that Eagles pick just keeps twisting the knife. I actually think that a Packers/Cowboys rematch could go to Green Bay; Favre put the Pack in an immediate hole on Thursday before getting hurt, and if a tidier first quarter that could have been a very different game. I really hope they meet in the playoffs, just to get another taste. And, like I said earlier, if the Pats can run the ball they’ll go to the Super Bowl. Homeboy.

Team Chemistry, Delmon Young Style: a reenactment

The whole town is ablaze with talk of the blockbuster Delmon Young trade, sometimes quite literally. In case you missed it, Batgirl at Gameday brings you a reenactment, using Legos.

As Star Tribune Twins reporters LaVelle E. Neal III and Joe Christensen head to work in the morning…


Singing together: "Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to work we go..."


"So, Joe C., what do you think of the big trade?"


"Oh, I don't know, III. I mean, Delmon Young's great, but I'm afraid without a charismatic veteran player to show him how things are done around here, he might go astray. He threw a bat at an ump! And our big hitters aren't exactly...well….I mean, I really wonder if our clubhouse is up to a guy like that."



"No, Joe, it's going to be all right. Just watch this footage I've collected on my PSYCHIC iPHONE! You'll see what I mean…"


Peering into LaVelle's PSYCHIC iPHONE, we see into the Twins clubhouse….

As the Carpenters' Greatest hits play, Justin Morneau, Michael Cuddyer, and Joe Mauer gather for some quiet introspection, when their new teammate arrives.


"Hey, guys! I'm Delmon Young! I'm so happy to be a Twin!"


"Hey, Delmon!" said Cuddyer, "Nice uniform! We were just having a stoic-off. Do you want to join us?"
Morneau, singing quietly: Ahhhh,ahahaaaaaaa....Close to Youuuuuuuuu.
"Man," said Young, "you guys are dull. Come on, I'll show you how to have a good time!"



Outside the Dome...

Singing: Whistle While You Work...


"Hey, random umpire, come here, into the clubhouse, I want to show you something…"
"Oh, sure Delmon!" said the ump. "Let's go!"



"Okay, guys. Now, stand here, and I want you to throw your bats at him."
"What?" said all three at once.
"Hey!" said the ump.
"Shut up and take it like a man!" said Young.


"I don't know," says Mauer, quietly.
"That seems like a lot of energy," says Morneau, laconically.
"It's not nice to throw things," said Cuddyer, shyly.


"Man. You guys are sooooooo lame! Come on, give it a shot."


"Well….I guess we should make him feel welcome," said Mauer. "That's what my mom would say to do."


"I'm sorry, Mr. Umpire, Sir!" squeaked Mauer, as he threw.






"THAT WAS AWESOME," yelled Mauer, jumping up and down.


"I'VE NEVER FELT SO ALIVE," yelled Morneau, tearing off his shirt.


"AOOOOOOOOOOOW!" howled Cuddy, smearing warpaint all over his body.


"COME ON BOYS, LET'S TEAR THIS PLACE UP!"

Out on the streets...
















Back at the clubhouse...

"Phew, thanks Delmon Young! Now, boys, let's go play some baseball!"

And back in LaVelle's car...

"Wow," said Joe C.. "I see what you mean, III. Finally, we've gotten the immature uncontrollable hotheaded player we need!"
"You said it, Joe. You said it."