You might have noticed my site going through a number of cosmetic changes. This is entirely due to the facts that (a) I am NOT a web designer, and (b) I have NO aesthetic sense whatsoever. Combine that with a general sense of apathy for my blog and you get the general abomination that was my previous site.
Now, however, I've snaked a .css from the moveabletype.org site, and it should be pretty clean in both mozilla and IE. I have no issues with the fact that my "design" is completely generic anymore, I just want people in IE to be able to read my site. Nevermind that IE is completely broken WRT, like, everything.
(P.S. Much thanks to my bro-in-law, Sr. Ramirez, for helping me track down the differences between his IE version 6.0.2800.1106 and my IE version 6.0.2800.1106. BTW, have I mentioned that I hate IE?)
Stupid Yankees. I hate them. I hate them so. It's not just because they are the evil brother of the Red Sox... in fact, if that were the only thing, I would probably just want them to lose. As it is, they embody one of the most serious problems in baseball: financial disparity.
Their start-of-2003 payroll was 2x higher than 18 other teams in baseball, and 3x higher than eight other teams. In fact, Tampa Bay (with the lowest payroll (just under $20M) in the league) could afford fewer than four players if they had the average salary of Yankees players ($5.3M).
And now, in their attempt to buy another World Series title, they have acquired Aaron Boone (an All-Star) even though they didn't really need another infielder. The only thing more disturbing than that is they dealt their current 3rd baseman (Robin Ventura, .251, 9 HR, 42 RBI) to the Dodgers... hardly the offensive savior(s) the Dodgers really need.
My lone hope is that the pitchers for which the Red Sox dealt are going to come through and help drive those Yankee Satans into the ground, sending them and their astronomical payroll packing.
Partially in celebration of the Big Decision, partially to fulfill a longtime dream, partially to get my wife to stop telling me to get out of the house, I will be taking a baseball trip. Including the White Sox game before the conference and the Cubs game after the conference, I'm planning to hit eleven stadiums in 16 days. Read on for the sordid details.
Here's how the schedule currently looks:
| W Sep 10 | Minnesota AT White Sox |
| R Sep 11 | CONFERENCE |
| F Sep 12 | CONFERENCE |
| S Sep 13 | CONFERENCE |
| S Sep 14 | Cincinnati AT Cubs |
| M Sep 15 | DRIVE TO ST. LOUIS (300mi), Milwaukee AT St. Louis |
| T Sep 16 | DRIVE TO CLEVELAND (600mi) |
| W Sep 17 | Kansas City AT Cleveland |
| R Sep 18 | DRIVE TO PITTSBURGH (150mi), Cincinnati AT Pittsburgh |
| F Sep 19 | DRIVE TO PHILADELPHIA (310mi), Cincinnati AT Philadelphia |
| S Sep 20 | DRIVE TO BALTIMORE (100mi), Toronto AT Baltimore |
| S Sep 21 | DRIVE TO NEW YORK (190mi), Montreal AT Mets, DRIVE TO BOSTON (220mi) |
| M Sep 22 | Baltimore AT Boston |
| T Sep 23 | DRIVE TO TORONTO (550mi) |
| W Sep 24 | Tampa Bay AT Toronto |
| R Sep 25 | DRIVE TO DETROIT (250mi), Minnesota AT Detroit |
| F Sep 26 | DRIVE TO GRAND RAPIDS (160mi) |
| S Sep 27 | GRAND RAPIDS, DRIVE TO CHICAGO (180mi), FLY HOME |
It also struck me that it would be kind of cool to put together a website that accepts a list of parks and dates, and generates a schedule of dates, driving directions, and hotel suggestions. Anyhoo, envy me, or something.
So it's official: Alan and I threw our hats into the entrepreneurial ring and are taking AIS full-time. No more sure paychecks. No more sick days and someone will cover for you. (Well, that didn't exactly happen before.)
I always used to envy people that owned their own business, thinking that I could never do that. When I went to DonorWare, I was very happy and started telling people that DonorWare would be the last time I work for someone else. There are no corporate politics, the leadership is full of great, fun people, and working from home can hardly be beat.
But at the end of the day, none of it beats working for oneself. (Yeah yeah, you don't have one boss, you have hundreds. There's still a difference.) It's a ton more work, it can be significantly more stressful... and it's about 1000 times more fulfilling. There's something exciting (I would have said "sickening" a couple of years ago) about one's next meal coming from whether or not one can drum up business.
So I'll be working for DonorWare full-time for another week plus, available part-time for a couple of weeks, then unfettered just before the Gospelcom conference. So if you want to send any business our way, we'd be eternally grateful. :-)
I hereby propose that the Dodgers acquire pitcher Mike Hampton and convert him to a first baseman. Silly?
Hampton has a career batting average of .253 and a career on-base percentage very near to that of the Dodgers leadoff man (Roberts)! If Hampton's 2001 batting numbers were multiplied by 7.5 (to bring it out to a full season of about 600 at-bats), here's how it would break down:
| AB | R | H | 2B | 3B | HR | RBI | BB | SO | OBP | SLG | BA |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 593 | 150 | 173 | 15 | 0 | 53 | 120 | 15 | 158 | .309 | .582 | .291 |
Them's starting numbers! In fact, back in the day, this was near-MVP numbers.
There are only so many wins possible when you score 2 runs in 33 innings... I'm just trying to think outside the box! (P.S. Thanks, Jonathan, for the pointer on your blog to Baseball-Reference.com. I can die happy now. :-)
Given the exchange value of one thousand words per picture, I figure I just posted about 77 thousand words in five categories. See them here and bore yourself to tears! (Yes, this is what I do with my Friday evenings.)
Or should I say, Peter Greenbaum. That's right, GreenBAUM is the actual last name of former Fleetwood Mac guitarist and complete kneebiter, "Peter Green". The man who has forever ruined my chances of placing high on Google for my name, or getting a petergreen.* domain, ISN'T EVEN OFFICIALLY NAMED PETER GREEN! (Or am I deluding myself into thinking that no one else named "Peter Green" would have snatched up all of the good domains?)
Watching the ESPN show, Pete Rose on Trial, I'm reminded of the greatest baseball controversy of my generation: Did Pete Rose bet on baseball? Is he eligible for induction into the Hall of Fame? Has he been punished enough for what he has done, as well as what he was accused of? It's not clear, but it's certainly becoming more and more of a conversation piece.
The first odd bit about this show in particular is the choice of prosecuting attorney: Alan Dershowitz, a defense attorney. This might be an indication of the swell for popular support to just forgive Rose and allow him into the Hall. It might also just be that Dershowitz is a media whore.
Did Rose actually bet on baseball while the manager of the Reds? It's unclear. There is a wealth of circumstantial evidence that he did, but is circumstantial evidence (that has never been formally pursued in a court of law) enough?
"But Rose signed a document saying that he and MLB would settle with the understanding that Rose would be permanently banned from baseball!" I hear you saying. (Well, maybe the more baseball-savvy of you are saying that.) I've heard some interesting objections to that whole process:
On the other hand, I don't think MLB not treating compulsive gambling as an illness is exactly the problem. Johnny Cochrane, like any good defense lawyer, is attempting to absolve Rose from any personal accountability. The question at hand is not MLB's handling of addictions, the question is Rose's eligibility for induction into the Hall.
In one case, Rose could have foregone this whole thing by admitting he betted on baseball. In another case, why should he admit something he didn't do, especially when he has admitted to so much more (betting on other sports, being a compulsive gambler, etc.)? In another another case, someone with any addiction who isn't fully convinced of his problem will offer up a bone to appear to be reformed; it's extremely hard to admit one's complete and utter depravity. (Excepting Calvinists; they are all too ready to admit total depravity.)
But I digress: the question is whether or not Rose belongs in the Hall of Fame. I think he does, based on his impact as a player. I'm young enough to have seen more time with Rose as banned from baseball than to have seen him play. Nonetheless, his on-field contributions (as I understand them from history) warrant his induction into the Hall of Fame, even as his actions as a manager and compulsive gambler warrant his continued banning from his active participation in baseball as a player, manager, owner, or in other capacities. But I reserve the right to change my mind... :-)
What do you think?
Where has the game I grew up loving gone? In large part, Bud "Light" Selig has succeeded in completely sucking the soul from the game. While baseball has had its problems in the past, it seems to have floundered under the pitiful guidance of Bud.
Exhibit A: the All-Star Games from 2002 and 2003. Last year's All-Star Game ended in a tie. (ObAmericanism: Ties are for SOCCER fans.) Our pal Bud was the one who called the game in the 11th inning when the two teams started running out of spoiled millionaires, er *players*, to field. (Never mind that most of the All-Star players see an at-bat or two, maybe come in as a pinch-runner or defensive replacement. Pitchers throw an inning or two. And they're surprised that they burned through the entire roster by the 11th? Well, duh.)
So what does good ol' Bud come up with this year? The winning league will earn home field advantage for its team in the World Series. Of all the idiotic ideas... so you're telling me that some Detroit pitcher throwing to some Rockies batter could decide who gets home field advantage? When NEITHER of those players' teams has any chance to be IN the World Series? That seems, uh... stupid.
Exhibit B: That which is becoming known as SausageGate. Earlier this week, a Pittsburgh Pirates player whacked the Italian Sausage in the Milwaukee "meat race". (Basically, they pit four people in heavy foam costumes shaped like various sausages in a race.) The four sausages were passing just in front of the Pittsburgh dugout when the player just dinked the Italian in the back of the head, knocking the 20-year-old girl inside down and tripping up another sausage.
This guy did a marginally dumb thing. He could have hurt the girl (from the fall, not the bat, as he didn't swing hardly at ALL), he trounced on a Milwaukee Brewers tradition... but judging from the response, you would think he tried to kneecap her with the bat. Our "Bud"dy released a lengthy response to the incident, using the phrase that Baseball "deeply regrets" that the incident happened at all. (Incidentally, this was the same phrase used by the commissioner's office when thousands of Houston fans were burned and temporarily blinded at a game two years ago.) Then, baseball suspended the Pirates player for three games. THREE GAMES. This is slightly under 1/2 of the sentence meted out to Sammy Sosa for cheating. CHEATING. Undermining the integrity of the game. Doesn't that seem a little extreme for a prank gone wrong?
There are so many other problems with baseball. Suspensions are a poor way to discipline players. George Steinbrenner needs to have his teeth knocked through the back of his head by a Pedro fastball. Interleague play has worn out its welcome. Another day...
As intense as any movie I've seen in the last number of years, 28 Days Later was as scary as it was intended to be. A movie I highly recommend seeing, especially for horror flick junkies, read on for reasons to see it.
If you are generally scared by movies, and enjoy it!, you might be interested in two little facts. First, 28 Days Later was one of the few movies I've seen that has left me with watery legs and watery bowels afterwards. Second, my wife was so reminded of her nightmares that she actually had to leave the movie and wait in the car. Yes, it's that disturbing/enjoyable (depending on your perspective).
It's a familiar (cf. 12 Monkeys) plot: man looses deadly virus, virus wipes out majority of population, chaos ensues. Nothing exciting there. Man finds one of the last women in the world, sexual tension ensues. Nothing exciting *there* either. But this is no ordinary movie; despite the slightly cliched plot, the details really make the movie. The fact that it's a foreign film helps, since the plot is not *quite* so predictable as to be bland/American.
The scare tactics are little more than loud noises at (in)opportune times, but they are surprisingly effective, especially at a theater that employs surround sound, or the like. The cinematography is well-done, in that it both conveys the "alone-ness" of the protagonist at the beginning, as well as it protrays the horror of the "Rage-infected" monsters.
It's one of those flicks that I cannot quite explain. It's a fun, "suspension-of-belief" sort of movie that makes a great date movie... provided your date doesn't get disgusted and leave the theater 30 minutes into it...