Archive for January, 2006
Sorry, but exactly who (or is it whom?) is running Bonds’ management? Because whoever it is deserves to be fired. Whoever decided that there will be a new Barry Bonds reality TV show needs to get together with Drew Rosenhaus and start their own Island of the Misfits talent agency. The last thing Barry Bonds needed heading into this season was more fodder for the mass media, but sure enough, that’s exactly what he’s gonna get.
The story is barely a day old, and I’ve already seen one, two, three separate stories ripping him, and that’s not counting ESPN jumping on him for dropping out of the WBC. Here’s the headline link for this Jayson Stark column:
Barry Bonds’ exit from the World Baseball Classic may be a blow, but Jayson Stark says the bigger issue is the timing of the event.
Reading that header, you’d guess it’s another rip job on Bonds, but no. Bonds’ decision to forego the event is hardly mentioned in the column. And that’s my point. Bonds doesn’t need to be figuring out ways for sportswriters to rip him up. That’s being handled already.
Here’s an idea for the Bonds team: Shut up and play. Stay out of the headlights for a while, at least until you pop a couple into the Cove. Bonds has already established himself as one of the most misunderstood and reviled athletes in the history of sports, (recently being voted GQ’s second most hated athlete, behind only Terrell Owens). Let’s see, Owens destroys his team and their season, and Bonds does….. Exactly what?
What has Bonds done that puts him in the same company as TO? Put the team ahead of himself? Work out religiously for most of the last two decades? Earn 7 MVP awards?
There’s no story as interesting as Bonds is an asshole story, and so it goes. I just can’t believe he would put himself right back in the sights of every jerkoff who thinks himself the conscience of the sports world again, but he did.
Seth Speaks, and we listen. He ranks Matt Cain as the #1 rookie impact pitcher for 2006 in his top 20 list. I’ll take any and all Giants support.
Thanks to everyone who took the time to write a note about my Mom or send me an email. I appreciate the support of my friends and family.
On to baseball, David Pinto responds to the Sporting News’ Ken Rosenthal, who tells us that the World Baseball Classic adds an unreasonable workload to an already overworked major league baseball player’s season. Here’s Rosenthal:
How about reducing the season from 162 games to 154, or even 140? The regular season in Japan consists of 138 games and the masses somehow endure. Give a little, get a little. But with MLB, there’s no give.
And here’s Pinto:
There’s no way the season is going to get any shorter. There is, of course, another way to reduce stress on players; expand the roster. I don’t know when the roster was set in stone at 25 players, but I believe it’s now too small. Teams keep growing their pitching staffs, reducing flexibility when it comes to position players.
Once again, David simplifies the problem and comes up with an obvious solution that seems to be beyond the pale for Selig and company.
Today’s teams are finding themselves needing more and more pitching, situational substitutions, and roster flexibility. The season is unbelievably long, (the number of sportswriters who have compared it to a marathon is beyond counting), the injuries continue to pile up…. Adding two roster spots (as David suggests) should be an easy way to get the DH out of the game, and help ease the fulltime players burden. Not to mention that the new ban on amphetamine use means that players are gonna need a little more rest than they’ve been accustomed to.
I’d vote for it, were I in a position to do so.
My mom, Margaret Mary Perricone, passed away this past December 30th. She was 62 years old, and is survived by her husband (and my Dad) Joseph Perricone, my sister Joey Ann, my brother Michael, me, and about a hundred cousins, uncles, brothers and sisters, and grandkids.
She was an incredible woman, to summarize her life would take forever. I’ll take a stab anyway….
She was a woman ahead of her time; marrying into an Italian-American family back in the early sixties in the Bronx meant being a housewife, and she would have none of it. She worked, her whole life she had a job, and much like me, about fifty of them. She was a chef, a bank teller, a seamstress, worked as a caterer, a manager, in a deli, at a college….
Her hobbies were endless. She did macrame, knitting, crocheting, ceramics, she was a competent builder, she designed furniture, reupholstered just about everything in the house about fifty different times.
She, like me, was a chronic insomniac, and (unlike me), spent all of her extra waking time doing things. That’s probably what we’ll all remember most about her. She never sat still, not for a minute. She filled her life to the rim, to overflowing, with love, with people and friends and family.
She was a second mother to all of mine and my brother and sister’s friends. She loved to eat and cook, and she was a helluva cook at that. She enjoyed her grandkids more than anything else as she got on in years, when we would visit from California she loved to have my kids crawl all over her and her house.
Alas, she was a 50-year smoker, and when she was diagnosed with advanced stage 4 lung cancer on November 29th, the prognosis was very, very grim. As it turned out, it was worse than we could have imagined. She lasted barely a month, and most of that time she was in terrific, debilitating pain. It was very difficult watching such a vibrant and strong woman reduced to being bedridden and almost immobilized; torturous, really.
Think of her when you laugh or find yourself inspired or brought to a shaking rage reading my work, because I am her son, and so much of what comes out of me, came out of her. I loved her very much, and will miss her. The world was a better place because of her, and I hope to have made as big an impact on so many lives as she did when I am done.