NFL Draft

Does the NFL Draft mean anything?  It’s an opportunity for the football commentators and analysts to earn a paycheck during the off-season.  College student athletes get to decide if they are going to be a student or an athlete.  And GMs and front offices get to spend millions of dollars on players that may or may not help their team on the field.  The whole thing is a bit ridiculous.

But personally, I watched for a couple hours.  I had to see which team will earn a bit of my loyalty by choosing one of my boys.  And so I may have to occasionally cheer for the Pittsburgh Steelers.  Actually, my support for the team will be in direct proportion to the number of carries given to their rookie RB.  A kid named Rashard Mendenhall.  I saw him break open a long TD run at the Rose Bowl.  And I cheered him as he led his team past Wisconsin, Penn State, and, who could forget, Ohio State.  According to the “experts,” he has a lot of football ahead of him, he’s a workhorse, and he can run the gaps.  Whatever.  He’s one of my boys.  So I will cheer for him.  But, this does not mean I have to cheer for Big Ben, right?

Beyond that, I was almost disappointed the high-profile players went quickly at the top.  No awkward “Brady Quinn”-like moments in the green room.  Some teams made what people called “good” picks, and others “failed,” but let’s face it, no one really knows who will perform at the next level and who will be a bust.  The free agent activity after the draft will likely yield a few gems, too…only time will tell…

Draft This!

There is no love lost between me and the Miami Dolphins. In recent years, they’ve played like crap and behaved like a bunch of idiots. Also, any team that hired Dave Wannstedt as coach and then, for their next trick, hired Nick Saban—well, they deserve whatever they get.

And if we reach a bit further back, we find that even when the Dolphins were good, they still often behaved like a bunch of idiots. In fact, the 1972 squad makes several yearly appearances for the sole purpose of reinforcing this very point. Thanks, fellas. Lest we forget.

However, I have to say that I might have to give back at least 1% of my acrimony after their drafting of Jake Long with the first pick. What? No pretty boy QB? No me-first receiver? Showboating isn’t a required skill for a first overall?

Any team that uses the first pick of the draft on a lineman deserves a special place in every true football fan’s heart.

Math Is Your Friend

I believe, if you look it up, that “Felix Pie hits three-run homer in the 8th inning” is dictionary-approved shorthand for “Things are going really well right now.”

‘Course, we all know the stats. 6-0 versus the Pirates, 7-6 versus everyone else. Or, if you prefer, 10-2 against the dregs of the NL Central (Pirates, Reds, Astros) and 3-4 versus higher quality competition (Brewers, Phils, Mets).

But the old cliche is an old cliche because it’s true: you can only play the games on your schedule. And what’s more, this is actually a reasonably good formula for success. You kick the crap out of the bad teams on your schedule, particularly the bad teams in your own division, and then you salvage a respectable .500-ish record against the good teams.

Let’s assume that 20 games over .500 (i.e., 91 wins) will take this division. Might take a few more, but let’s say that for the sake of round numbers. The Cubs are already +8 against the bad teams, +7 overall, and there’s still more than a week left in April. Gotta like those odds.

If you figure that half the games are against competitive teams and half are against bad teams (again, for the sake of round numbers), you can hit the +20 plateau by playing 41-40 baseball against the good teams, and 50-31 ball against the bad teams. Let’s say for the sake of argument that the Cubs will continue to hover near the .500 mark against good teams, though right now they look to be improving in that area. After starting 0-2 and then 1-4 against the good teams, they’re 2-0 since then. OK, that’s a really small stat to build any sort of trend on, but give me a break. We’ve played less than 20 games. Really small stats are all we’ve got right now.

Since the Cubs are already 10-2 against the bad teams, they only need to play 40-29 ball against the Pirates, Astros and Reds of the world. That’s winning 1.74 games out of every three-game series against those teams. Again, assuming they avoid complete implosion, I’m liking those odds.

It’s not perfect math and, quite frankly, what I’m setting out is a minimum standard for what this team can and should accomplish. But it also puts some hard numbers to the adage that every game you win in April is one less game that you have to win in September.

Furthermore, they’re winning with the sort of all-cylinders mentality that good seasons are made of. By this, I mean that they’re getting contributions from all aspects of their game: starting pitching, relief pitching, hitting, defense, etc.—even if the consistency of some of those areas leaves something to be desired. What’s more, they’re getting contributions from all types of players on their roster. They’re getting contributions from their big bats (Lee, Ramirez, though the latter has got to bring his BA up). They’re getting contributions from their role players: Reed Johnson, anyone?

They’re getting contributions from maligned bit players. Do my eyes deceive me, or was last night merely the exclamation point on what has so far been a remarkably productive season for Ronny Cedeno? Their “rookies”—Soto, Fukudome—are as good as anyone could have hoped them to be. So even when a player expected to produce fails (*cough* Lilly *cough* Soriano *cough*), someone is there to fill the gap. Or, when a previously solid player falters, he is picked up by another aspect of the game…and so Ryan Dempster comes out on the positive end of a 9-5 contest. Last night’s game, from Zambrano’s strong start to Pie’s homer, was the perfect example of that.

The afterglow will wear off sometime, perhaps around 1:21 this afternoon. And then I may be back with some more dire predictions. But for now, I’m going to enjoy the view from the top.

The Jungle?

Kerry Wood continues to impress as the Cubs closer — and already there is a sense of control when he steps on the mound in the 9th.  But “Welcome to the Jungle” for his entrance?  It just doesn’t work.

While I have nothing against the song or the pitcher, the combination just doesn’t work.  It caught me off-guard when I was at the park and Wood stepped up to end the game in the 9th, and it actually distracted me from the cheers of the fans.

Note to the sound team at Wrigley:  You have a ballpark where nothing but “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” actually works well for the stretch – a treasured tradition that the fans embrace.  You have a ballpark where the fans actually sing what is arguably the cheesiest team song ever after a win – and love it!  And, you have a closer who has managed to endear himself to Cubs nation despite disappointments and injuries.  He doesn’t really need an entrance song.  And if you really think he does, go for something that fits the mood of the ballpark.  Traditional and cheesy.  The jungle?  Wrigley hardly qualifies, despite the ivy and rabid fans.  There’s too much pure baseball enjoyment for a song like that to add to the atmosphere.  The fans on the North side really don’t need the help of an entrance song to know who’s on the mound. 

So, sound team, I appreciate your efforts, but unless you can find a song that works, let’s just stick with the crowd’s cheers.

Wrigley

I may have mentioned this before, but for the record, I love Wrigley Field.  It’s a hard place to beat on a mostly sunny, mild spring day with a slight breeze blowing out.  And seats almost directly under Ron Santo.  And a 2 run 1-run lead.  Even when the time there is more work-related (client entertainment) than just for fun.  Especially when you get to sing the cheesy song “Go Cubs, Go!” with 30,000 or so fans.  I love Wrigley. 

I don’t know…

…if my relationship with Rich Hill can survive another subpar start. Granted, yesterday has left me with some residual anger at Ted Lilly (who can officially consider himself on notice), so perhaps it’s not fair to subject Hill to the accumulation of my disgust. But Rich and I have always had a tenuous relationship.

It started back in the 2005 season, when he first made his appearance. He got the wrong end of a lot of my frustration over that season. Once again, residual anger—this time over 2003 AND 2004—was still in play. But you must admit: he was really bad and he was really bad for a long time. And when it looked he might not be quite that bad, I started calling him “the trade-baitable Rich Hill.”

It took until August 2006, when Rich finally notched his second major league win, for me to make peace with him. And I did so publically, agreeing that I would forget about the giant sucking sound he made for the better part of two seasons if he would forget about my various angry rants and wishes for him to be sent down a Giant Hole Of No Return.

This is pathetic, but part of my reason for agreeing to a truce was that Rich just seemed so eager to please. You know those little head shots that you see, with the roster and with the games you can “watch” online? I’m talking about this one. Notice how big Rich is smiling. Notice the toothiness of his grin. Most players can’t even be arsed to smile for those pictures. And few have the so-giddy-my-eyes-are-squinting-up smile that Rich sports. (It’s OK, Rich. My eyes squint up when I smile like that too.) He just looks so darn eager to please, eager to be liked, eager to contribute. Almost like a happy puppy dog. Would you kick a puppy dog?

But Rich really hasn’t been good since August 2007. He was bad toward the end of last year, bad in spring training, and bad so far this year. That means he was only good for one year. That means our occasionally uneasy truce only lasted one year. Is one year enough of a foundation to build a relationship on?

With only one meltdown thus far, I’m satisfied with what I’ve seen out of Carlos Zambrano. And while it’s too early to say for sure which direction the Ryan Dempster arrow is pointing, let’s just say I’m prepared to be wrong about his ability to be a starting pitcher. Marquis hasn’t been especially great, and Lieber and Marshall seem like they could be serviceable fill-ins. But I can forgive those three because at no point in time were our plans for this season dependent on assumptions that any of that trio would provide significant productivity. However, our plans for this season are quite dependent on the delusion assumption that Ted Lilly and Rich Hill would be, at minimum, solid.

For the most part, I’m happy with what I’ve seen from the Cubs. It’s not perfect, but they’re beating the teams they should beat, and they’re working out their issues while winning games—as opposed to last year, where they worked out their issues while losing games. Lee is back, Fukudome makes me want to kiss him, and the pen has proven that they can shut ‘em down when they set their minds to it (if only they’d set that mind before each game). I’m not even worried about no Soriano. We were winning with about zero contributions from him other than his arm in left. So we can deal.

But even with the decent results thus far, the starting pitching still keeps me up at night. If Rich keeps robbing me of my sleep, we may not make it.

Spring

I’m so ready for warmer temperatures, rain instead of snow, and the more-than-occasional rays of sunshine.  With the college basketball season behind us, I can now focus on baseball.

The Cubs are looking good, as the offense has shown up to welcome Dusty back to town.  21 runs in two games — nice stats this early in the season.  Derek Lee, according to TheWittyOne and the talking heads, has returned to pre-broken-wrist form, and has more home runs in about 3 weeks than he did in about two months last year.  With bats this hot, Soriano will hardly be missed while he’s on the DL.  I’ll let TheSassyOne or TheWittyOne address Matt Murton getting overlooked to fill the outfield in favor of Eric Patterson.  But I know TheSassyOne especially won’t approve of that move.  The bullpen has held up to lots of pressure quite well so far, although it’s early.  And it’s fun to watch a team hit the ball a lot.

But there’s more to look forward to this time of year…one of my Illini is projected to go in the first round of the NFL draft — a big step up for a program that won just 2 games 2 years ago.  Plus, a couple of my favorite former Illini will face each other in the first round of the NBA playoffs.  I don’t really enjoy the NBA, but I do like seeing familiar faces during SportsCenter highlights.

So spring has a lot to offer this year…and I do love the change of seasons. 

Dusty Baker Needs To Can It

My hatred of Dusty Baker has a long history, and right now it appears he’s aiming to extend that history just a little bit more.

The Dusty Formula^TM is simple. He comes riding in on his white horse, to the strains of some triumphant anthem. And then he uses his Dusty Voodoo^TM to whip up an impressively productive first season. However, his deals with the Devil must be running on a one-year lease, because after that first miracle, it’s a long, slow descent into complete collapse due to:

(1) Lackadaisical and/or undisciplined play; or
(2) Spectacularly poor grasp of baseball fundamentals; or
(3) Stubborn refusal to change course no matter how disastrous the current results; or
(4) Mind-numbingly bad in-game strategery; or
(5) Misuse of the pitching staff; or
(6) My personal favorite: all of the above.

Et voila, the mojo is gone. But no matter how that magic might desert him, there are two things Dusty never loses: his ass-covering impulses, and his victim mentality.

Dusty Baker is still crying about how unfairly he was treated while he was in Chicago. Beg pardon? Even after the memorable collapse of 2003, and the slightly less memorable but nearly as galling collapse of 2004, Dusty still got quite a bit of slack from the Chicago fans and media. By the end, everyone had pretty well turned on him, but I’m not sure what exactly he expected. His teams were completely out of hand and getting noticeably worse from year-to-year despite roster upgrades. Dusty himself was a fount of excuses for every dumb move he ever made, not the least of which was the LaTroy Hawkins-as-closer experiment, which went on about 8 years past its expiration date. Yes, that’s right, Dusty. If you reserve the right to have a long memory about how the big meanies treated you, then I reserve the right to have a long memory about all your logic-defying decisions and about all the dumb moves that you did make, and about all the smart moves that you never made.

I don’t know what Dusty thinks he deserves for the way the Cubs went to pot on his watch. A medal? Having to deal with questions from the media and displeasure from the fans is a known occupational hazard of being a manager. If Dusty’s state is so fragile that he’s continuing to carry around bitterness over this, then my humble suggestion is that he find a new line of work. Otherwise, own up to your failures, take your medicine like a big boy, and move on with your life.

It also doesn’t help that certain Chicago news outlets are regularly giving Dusty opportunity to voice his sorry tale of woe. Is there really a market for this crap? Do we Cubs fans really care? Haven’t we got enough to concern ourselves with already? We’ve got a team trying its hardest to lose to the worst team in its division (though, thankfully, not succeeding so far). We can’t be bothered with Dusty.

Here’s a thought: if you ignore him, he’ll go away.

Rock, Chalk…

I grudgingly must congratulate the Jayhawks on a good game.  After a good week of lame college games, we finally got a good one.  Memphis and Kansas went from running the court to grinding it out to running to overtime.  Fun to watch.  Intense.  Good stuff.

And although it will be hard to watch Bill cut down the nets, I take a tiny bit of comfort in the fact that Kansas didn’t win as much as Memphis lost.  Ahh, the free throw under pressure.  As an Illini fan, I can fully appreciate the agony of the brick, clank or off spin from the stripe.  Disappointing that Memphis lost it, but I’m glad that we had a competitive championship game.

Lest we overlook it though, one of the best parts of the broadcast was the Bobby Knight car commercial.  I don’t remember what kind of car it was, and I’m not a Knight fan, but it was hilarious.  Bobby ended the conversation by throwing his chair and throwing out the comment “I may not be retired!”  Kudos to Knight for participating, making fun of himself, and leaving us all wondering…  At least we know he won’t be headed back to Bloomington, Ind.  Coach Tom Crean will have his hands full untangling the mess Sampson left, but I’ll take him over Bobby on the sidelines any day.

Paper Tigers

In a way, I have no idea why I’m enjoying the recent woes of the Detroit Tigers as much as I am. They do not have an especially hateable roster or coaching staff. In fact, I quite like Jim Leyland.

So perhaps it’s because I had long ago predicted they would be the Single Largest Disappointment of this season, and I’m always gratified to be right. Perhaps it’s because half of their losses have come at the hands of our hometown White Sox, and it’s always nice to see the local boys make good. Perhaps it’s because they appear to have adopted a Yankees-like strategy that says there’s no problem that can’t be solved by a multi-million dollar mortgage against your farm system. Perhaps it’s because I can’t stand the city of Detroit.

Honestly, not a one of these factors would, by itself, be enough to explain the schadenfreude that I’m feeling this morning. But when I stack them all up side-by-side like I did just now, I must admit that the aggregate is more than enough to explain my current glee.

Mmmmmm…other people’s misfortune. [/Homer Simpson]