Ever since Geroge Steinbrenner rode off into the sunset and left the prestigious New York Yankees in the hands of his sons and mastermind Brian Cashman, the franchise hasn’t fared too well. As the Yankees stand on the crossroads of 2008, riddled by injuries and personal moves that just haven't panned out, one could think old George would come back and try and right the ship. One could think a conversation between him and Cashman would sound something like this...

The Boss: Hey Cash-woman, what’s the deal with these guys runnin wild out here... I’ll fire the whole cotton nabbin’ crew are you effin’ kiddin me with the lineup we’re runnin out there, wheres that Japanese player I got years ago why isn’t he out there? Where’s all this young talent?! When are we bringing up Andy and breaking him into the major leagues?

Brian Cashman: Uh sir, I hate to bring it up again but my name is Cashman, and I’m actually a guy. Sir you’ve got to understand that now that you’ve officially relinquished control of the team to your sons and I that you’ve got to trust our vision of the future. Hideki Matusi, sir, is one of the most reliable guys we have out there, and our young talent is just really banged up right now. And sir, Andy Petite has been in the league for 14 years.

The Boss: You think I don’t know that Cash-douche!? I’m talking about Andy Phillips! Quality defensive player we could mold at first base and really be patient with his hitting. I don’t like that fat version of Mattingly out there now battin’ .250. And where’s that Chamber-pot guy we got? Doesn’t he throw 100 mph?!

Cashman: Sir we got rid of Andy Phillips many months ago due to his poor offensive production in the limited starts we gave him. That fat Mattingly is Giambi, we paid him $23.5 million dollars last year remember? And um, sir, I believe you’re the one who wanted to sign him after Tino left, remember? Even with his bad boy reputation and rumored steroid use? And then remember he actually admitted to using steroids? And had to miss time due to a mysterious tumor, and then had his sworn steroid testimony leak to the public? Oh and Chamberlain sir, the talented flame thrower we have, he’s well, injured… but he’s trying really hard not to be!

Boss: Damn it Miss Cash-girl who the hell is pitching for us!?

Cash: Sir I'm a boy, and well sir we have Mike Mussina, who wanted me to thank you for signing off on the insurance his Life Alert senior citizen alert system...

Boss: *%&#$!

Cash: …And we have Brian Bruney, Chris Britton, Damaso Marte, Edwar Ramirez and Darrel Rasner as well!

Boss: Damn it I wanted the names of our pitching staff not the Aramark concessions people.

Cash: That was them sir. We also have Sidney Ponson!

Boss: The drunk? How’s he doing for Baltimore?

Cash: No sir, he’s on our team.

Boss: Oh Cash-crap it’s times like these I wish Mariano Rivera was still alive.

Cash: He is sir.

Boss: Then where the hell is that balding bundle of joy?!

Cash: We just don’t give him many save opportunities as we used to sir.

Boss: I don’t get it, we beat the lowly Mets and that Al Leiter jokester in 2000, that was five years ago Cash-scab! Five years of torture! Five years of spending the most money in the history of professional sports to win a championship here in New York! Now I want some *&$%# answers! Where is that Rocket Man we had?! Is Michael Kay still on the payroll for spin control!? And what about Paul O’Neil?! I haven’t filled out a check for clubhouse repairs in a long time.

Cash: Um sir, promise not to get mad but, it was eight years ago.

Boss: Eight?!

Cash: Yes sir, eight. And Al Leiter, well sir he pitched for us, and now he works for YES. As does Michael Kay and yes sir he is being paid to praise the team at all costs. And well the Rocket, your majesty, he had some issues with steroids sir, and that Human Growth problem we had with Petite and Knoblauch, well it’s gotten him in trouble with the law, even Congress. Also, Paul O’Neil retired in 2001 sir.

Boss: Who the hell is in right?!

Cash: Bobby Abreu.

Boss: God bless you. So now I don’t know what kind of pitching staff we’ve got at all, not to mention what O’Neil’s stats are this year.

Cash: Sir Paul O’Neil retired. Oh, but, hey! Carl Pavano is back and pitching for us!

Boss: Who?

Cash: Carl Pavano sir! Remember you made me sign him for 4 years and $40 million in 2005?! He won 18 games in 2004 for the Marlins, he could definitely help us this year!

Boss: Never heard of him. Who else we got?

Cash: Well, your highness, Kei Igawa isn’t the 5 years and $20million we had hoped but he’s making some progress.

Boss: Damn it Cash-cab you know Chinese food gives me gas, I’m asking you about the team!

Cash: *sigh* OK, well we traded for Pudge Rodriguez sir! We got him to replace Posada when he went down injured!

Boss: We brought him on as a coach?

Cash: No sir he plays for us.

Boss: Wasn’t he the best catcher in 2003?

Cash: yes.

Boss: What year is it?

Cash: It’s 2008 sir.

Boss: ….

Boss: Torre is going to have a field day with this team.

Cash: Sir we, um, let Joe Torre go, remember?

Boss: Where the hell is he?! Who the hell is managing?! Don’t tell me Billy is back again!

Cash: Well sir Joe Torre left for the LA Dodgers and took his coaching staff with him, and well now we have Joe Girardi. Remember him? The catcher? And sir Billy Martin is dead.

Boss: This Girardi fellow I don’t know, but we better have something going on the horizon.

Cash: Um, we, um, well Melky Cabrera and Robinson Cano are great young talents sir, really coming along!

Boss: How’s Cano hitting?

Cash: .269 sir, but he started off slow!

Boss: And that Milk man you just mentioned?

Cash: Oh well, we had to send him to the minors to work on a few things.

Boss: Well then Bernie’s picking up his slack then huh?

Cash: Well sir you see we kind of let Bernie Williams go…I mean he didn’t have a good arm, and he really only hit for average after his power numbers and RBI totals diminished.

Boss: What!? Who did you replace him with!?!

Cash: Johnny Damon sir. While his arm isn’t that great last year he did hit .270 with 12 home runs and 63 RBI’s, so that’s something to build on!

Boss: So this Damon kid’s a rook?

Cash: No sir he’ll be 35 this year.

Boss: Hey Cash-loser I’m getting so worked up I’m going to have to force you to call Liberty Medical to replenish my diabetes testing supplies just to give me some peace of mind that Medicare covers it.

Cash: Um, right away sir.

Boss: We still got my son Derek right? How’s he doing?

Cash: Jeter your supremeness? He’s doing great sir! .293 average, over 70 runs scored.

Boss: Wait, .293? That young boy of mine is almost always hitting over .320!!

Cash: Well sir you see the whole lineup is really under performing this year, even Alex Rodriguez, and Derek Jeter is 34 years old now.

Boss: Cash-whore check that birth date he isn’t older than 26. And who the hell is Alex Rosenbagger?

Cash: Rodriguez sir. Arod? Remember we acquired him in the middle of the largest major league contract ever? Even after his relationship with Jeter had begun to go sour after numerous comments about Derek in numerous magazines? Oh but sir you should see him hit! No one hits a home run to push us from up 7-1 to up 8-1 in the top of the 9th like Arod!

Boss: Oh Arod! Right, right, the pretty one with all the hair gel.

Cash: Yes now you remember sir! Remember how we gave him a 10 year contract for $275 million with options that could push it to $300 million!? He’s like the best player ever! Remember that horrible call in 2004?! Remember how he beat out that slow roller to first in the ALCS against the Sox but was ruled that he slapped the ball out of the glove as he went by first?! Totally unfair sir.

Boss: What the hell happened in that series anyways?

Cash: We lost sir. Remember? Biggest collapse in baseball postseason history? And we lost game 7 here sir…here at home.

Boss: So tell me this jackass, what have you forced me to spend since the last time we won the world series?

Cash: Well if you count everything up, it’s well over $1 billion dollars sir.

Boss: Has it been thirty years or something?!

Cash: No sir, it’s been eight.

Boss: So then what kind of prospects are we working with right now?

Cash: Well see the guys we hung on to instead of trading for proven starters like Johan Sanatana, well they’re sort of injured right now. You see we thought that starters like Ian Kennedy, Joba Chamberlain, and Phil Hughes could carry us to the playoffs once again this year, even if they have only combined for 43 career MLB starts.

Boss: Cash-dumbass just tell me one thing, one thing and I’ll be able to understand whether or not I should still be paying you $2 million this year. How many championships have we won this millennium!?

Cash: None, sir.

Boss: Trade the whole thing away immediately! And God help me Cash-Nancy if you do not get me Paul O’Neil in here to discuss his batting average in the next half hour you’re fired!

Cash: *sigh* Yes sir.

By Jim Kelly Jr.

Just when you thought high school football wasn’t big enough you’ve got celebrities infiltrating the media, not with what they’re doing on the field, but what their sons are doing. The Montana,Gretzky,Smith Capades

You think you got it easy? How about riding the coattails of your dad who happened to be the greatest player of his generation in professional sports.

You think you know pressure? How about riding the coattails of your dad who happened to be the greatest player of his generation in professional sports; and becoming good at his sport.

That’s Nick Montana, son of Joe and 49er folklore, who recently transferred to an ultra prep school in the CA (think the high school from The O.C.) to play quarterback and get more attention at his age than his dad got when he was 30. Sounds like the perfect father-son-sports-domination-story right? Until some pesky sophomore named Trevor has the skills to compete for the job and who happens to have a really Great dad, as in the Great One: Wayne Gretzky. Luckily whoever wins out the starting job for the next two years will be slinging passes to the real big man in the Wild Wild West: Trey Smith, son of actor Will Smith. That’s the story of this tabloid destined high school and the paparazzi that will follow a football team around because their players have famous dads for fans. As Hollywood gossip get’s younger the focus of a star’s child is bigger news than the star itself (Miley Cyrus isn’t helping), and watching the sons of former sports greats is no longer a cute sideline story from Erin Andrews (hell the Dark Ages would be a cute sideline story from Erin Andrews) but rather TMZ exclusive footage. The fact that Tom Cruise occasionally supports this football team from the home stands doesn’t help either.

So what if you’re the coach of this literally star studded team, and you decide to bench Montana in favor of Gretzky? Does Joe call you up and tell you that his son deserves a shot cause they’ve throw a lot of passes in the backyard? Are you going to tell him you know more about football than him? That’s like saying you know more about the Ronco Showtime Rotisserie Oven (“set it and forget it!”) than Ron Popeil. It’s impossible. So you give in and start Montana, but then at 3am the next morning Wayne Gretzky is firing hockey pucks at your garage door that are leaving dents that read “Start my son at quarterback you jackass” (your garage door is big). So you calm Wayne down and tell him Nick Montana is a year older and should start this year, only to have Will Smith show up and get jiggy with you about the lack of passes to his son at wide receiver.

I say all this because in the press the fathers of these boys, and they are boys, will tell you they’re just supporting their sons in whatever they do; that their success isn’t their concern, but rather an added bonus. Yet everyone has seen, or owned, parents who’ve gone nuts at 4 year old soccer games or 6 year old tee ball games where kids are more concerned with peeing on the field than playing the game (at least I was). So it’s hard to imagine that Will Smith, an outgoing personality, and two of the greatest athletes of the last 30 years, will not stand up and say something when they feel their kid isn’t the shining star of their sports team. Daddy has been the shining star of America at one point or another, so the boys should be firmly rooted in the family business. These men are professionally famous though, so you’ll never see any one of these stars go nuts or call the MIB (any chance at a Will Smith reference I’m on it) on the field during a practice or a game in front of reporters who have nothing better to do than cover a high school prep team practice. They’ll call the coach at home, probably during dinner, and let him stutter his way out of explaining to top level, former ultra competitive greats that their son isn’t the starting quarterback, or to a guy who makes enough money per movie to buy coach’s soul on Ebay why his son isn’t the #1 wide receiver.

They say the great one’s are great due to their heightened competitive nature, guys like Woods, Jordan, and yes Montana and Gretzky, so it’ll be tough to believe that these guys will be able to handle the fact that the fruit of their loins aren’t living up to their legacy. So where does that leave their fruit, err, sons? Sure they have had anything they’ve ever wanted growing up, but are they trading that for a life of living in your father’s shadow? Are they going down of path that can never be truly rewarding because no one will let them forget how dear old dad did it? This would be the case for Nick Montana, playing the same position of his father and living a sports career that will be analyzed right down to his haircut (see: Chris Simms). As for Gretzky and Smith, neither went into the family business but had must have had so many opportunities growing up they could be ambassadors to foreign countries by now (small ones like Thailand, Mongolia, or Russia).

So now we’re forced to see Sportscenter highlights and on field interviews at high school football games that resemble the ESPYs more than a team sport. Maybe riding the coattails of your dad who happened to be the greatest player of his generation in professional sports isn’t the greatest thing in the world, as that world is filled with people placing you under a microscope and most likely hoping you’ll fail and post Jimmy Clausen or Vanessa Hudgens-like pictures on Facebook(please not like Vanessa gentlemen). But until then we’ll watch the spawn of celebrities and their heirs to greatness grow up in this potential-over-performance atmosphere, hoping that they remind us of the men they came from and the way they used to keep us entertained. And as Trevor Gretzky and Nick Montana battle it out for the quarterback slot for the next few years they can always find solace in their scared-off coach, their super dads, and their new favorite song: Just the Two of Us.

Eric Simon of "Amazin' Avenue" the New York Mets blog at SBNation was kind of enough to exchange emails with me about the Mets this year in a series called 'Big Cat Conversations'. Eric covers the Mets daily, even more than daily sometimes, and does an excellent job at Amazin' Avenue to satisfy all fans borderline obsessed. Check out his work at Amazin' Avenue


Jim Kelly: Does blogging about every Mets game get in the way of your fan experience? You are on top of the ball after every Mets game with stat lines and comments about post game quotes from the players and coaches, but do you ever just mail it in and figure the readers will figure it out? Especially being so stat oriented too it's got to require alot of time and effort to look and stuff up and weave it into your posts. If it were me and the Mets lost due to yet another bullpen meltdown I would've just posted "they sucked" and logged off. I wouldn't have been able to complete sentences without ranting about an inadequate bullpen and still fuming from the collapse.

Eric Simon: It comes and goes, I think. I was pretty burned out by the end of last season that I didn’t even care that much when the Mets missed the playoffs. It didn’t help that the Mets phoned in the first few months of this season, but the past month has been a lot of fun and I’ve found myself as interested in this team right now as I have been at any point since 2006 ended. Where blogging diverges from traditional media is not so much the coverage itself, but the point-of-view of coverage, and that’s the biggest reason team sports fans have flocked to blogs and have started relying on the mainstream media as a secondary source of coverage instead of a primary one.

Writing about the Mets on a daily basis does take a tiny bit of the fan out of you, but I’m still a huge Mets fan and I think that comes through in my commentary and analysis of the team. I try to be objective in my analysis and emotive in my commentary. Sometimes it’s hard to strike a balance, but when you do the result is an effective means of communicating about a team and its players and other fans really latch onto that.


Jim Kelly: I may be extremely biased here (I'm allowed to be) but are there any fans that live and die by every game more so than Met fans? One look at the threads on your site and the mood is Jekyll and Hyde like after a win or a loss. I imagine there's some relaxation and understanding from the fans in cities like LA, San Diego, and even St Louis to a degree. The fans there might be behind there players for better or worse, but New Yorkers can be your best friend when you're up or your worst enemy after a quick 0 for 15. Yankee fans are rough, and Red Sox fans will let you know if you're in a slump, but I feel it's because the Mets have been starved for success for so long that they give their players the shortest leash in the league to perform.

Eric: There’s a lot of pressure to perform in New York, but there’s pressure to perform anywhere. I don’t really know what it’s like to be a fan of another team so I can’t really compare, but I suspect everyone thinks that their team’s fans are the most passionate. I think to some extent Mets fans probably suffer from a greater degree of self-entitlement than many other teams’ fans, and that often comes across via the booing of players whom they feel aren’t doing enough to earn their money. That said, New York is a great place to be when you’re playing well, and as quick as they are to boo poor performances, Mets fans will deify players who play well, especially if they look like they’re trying really hard in the process!

JK 2: Ok so lets get into this year's team. Suddenly Randolph leaves and the team see's the light and begins to perform well. Personally I don't blame Willie more so than I blame Rick Peterson. I was always a strong supporter of Peterson, with his days with Mulder, Zito, and Hudson in Oakland and reports of him using video and computers to breakdown pitchers to an exact science. I really thought he had all the answers, and that if a pitcher wasn't performing well then it wasn't the coach's fault it was the player's. Now that Jacket Rick is gone suddenly Perez and Pelfrey are the most dependable pitchers in the rotation, Maine has been a little more consistent (barring his recent injury) and Dan Warthen is being praised for it all. So what gives? Is it the laid back style of Jerry Manuel and the unorthodox "go with what works" style of Dan Warthen, or did this team just finally get it?

Eric: I’ve always been a Rick Peterson fan and thought the Mets were foolish to throw the baby out with the bathwater, so to speak. Six solid weeks don’t completely change my mind about that, but certainly Oliver Perez and, perhaps more so, Mike Pelfrey, have shown considerable improvement since Dan Warthen took over. I can see how Peterson might come off as too regimented for some, and he’s definitely very technical and calculated in his approach to pitching. Warthen seems to shoot more from the hip, and some of the Mets’ pitchers seem to have responded well to that. Let’s check back in a year and see how those guys have done (though Perez might be doing so with another team by then).


J Kells: Exactly, time will definitely tell and what seems to work for the surging starters seems to falter to a floudering bullpen. But my biggest surprise this year: Fernando Tatis. Can you remember a guy for the Mets that literally came out of no where to be such a contributor? Timo Perez comes to mind but so far on a much lesser scale, as Tatis recently was named the starting left fielder after not even being a blimp on the Mets radar in spring training. We've all heard the Tatis money-for-church story but can we really expect his hot streak to continue? When Ryan Church returns this Mets outfield should be solid with Ryan, Beltran, and (I can't believe I'm confident in this ) Tatis. How long does Tatis last and can we really count on him in September?

Eric: I don’t know if I’ve seen anything quite like it, though there are always guys who come up and go through hot streaks. Mike Jacobs was terrific a few years ago when he was first promoted to the big club; Timo (Perez)is a good example, too. I’ve expected Tatis to turn back into a pumpkin for weeks now and it just hasn’t happened. His history indicates that it will happen eventually, because middling hitters don’t usually turn into terrific ones after taking a few years off from the game. The Mets will ride him as long as he’s hitting, but I don’t think anyone will be surprised if he wakes up one of these days and remembers that he’s Fernando Tatis and everything goes back to normal.


Eric Simon is the man in charge at Amazin' Avenue and really likes the New York Mets. Check it out.

By Jim Kelly Jr.

Search Brett Favre on wikipedia and you'll find more information than you ever wanted about the gunslinger, but stat lines and factoids don't always tell the whole story...

No matter how many games he’ll win in the East Rutherford swamp this year, Brett Favre’s majestic career will be forever remembered in the minds of fans with a Packers jersey and a three day old beard. Most people don’t remember, or don’t even know about, his extraordinary collegiate career at Southern Mississippi. Those glorious four years are merely stat lines preceding his NFL career, yet instead of wondering about what the future holds for football’s number 4 let’s take a look at his past; a look at Brett Favre: The College Years.

If you thought Chuck Norris was a man’s man you’ve been watching too much Walker Texas Ranger (you can never watch enough actually) and not enough Conference USA football from 1987 to 1991. Before college Favre played football and baseball for Hancock North Central High School near Gulfport Mississippi, where he started for the baseball team in the 8th grade and earned five varsity letters[1]. The football team was coached by his father, who knew about Favre’s cannon arm from when he broke it when he was 11 years old and had a brief stint as a Chicago Cubs pitcher [2], but still never allowed more than five throws or so a game in an option-run offense. [3] To show his father that he is dealing with Brett Favre and not some random first round pick from a few years ago [4] Brett played quarterback, lineman, strong safety, placekicker and punter simultaneously for the Hancock Hawks. [5] After four years of success Favre asked to come back, but due to graduation restrictions and the lack of need for a 20 year old five position player contract negotiations fell through and Favre asked for a release from his father. [6]

Favre choose to go to Southern Mississippi after sifting through numerous scholarship offers [7]and was asked to play multiple positions again. Favre set his sights on quarterback though, and even though there were six quarterbacks in front of him Favre only had to wait and groom his beard for his shot to jump from 7th string to starter [8]. When Favre did get his shot at play it was the second half of a game against Tulane[9], and after a night of heavy drinking and shooting beer bottles off a fence with his cannon arm Brett was a bit hung over and after pissing excellence he threw up during warm-ups the next day [10]. Favre went on that day to lead the Golden Eagles to a come from behind victory [11], which is like being hung over and simultaneously acing a final and scoring a date with the girl in the short skirt next to you; a feat you might not have been able to do with a healthy amount of sleep and bodily fluids.
Favre’s junior year he led the Golden Eagles to a last minute upset of the then #6 ranked Florida State Seminoles in 1989 [12].

That summer Brett had the biggest set back of his life though when he flipped his car only a few tenths of a mile away from his house. Luckily, Brett’s brother who was nearly as much of a man’s man as he broke the window of the car with a golf club and pulled the quarterback out to be taken to the hospital [13] . Favre’s mother recalled him only asking about football on the way to the hospital, and soon he would have 30 inches of his small intestine removed due to the crash [14]. Six weeks later Brett would lead a comeback victory over Alabama in memory of his small intestine, and Gene Stalling then coach at ‘Bama would say after the game “You can call it a miracle or a legend or whatever you want to. I just know that on that day, Brett Favre was larger than life.”[15]

Favre went on to break every quarterback record in the books for Southern Mississippi [16], a feat which including most plays, most total yards gained, most passing yards gained, most completions made, most touchdowns scored, and most passing attempts made [17]. While in the four years of breaking records and making a name for him in the world of football Brett Favre also found time to get a degree in education with a specialization in special education [18].

So when plays into the hearts of the people of Green Bay for years, compiles the best career statistics for a quarterback ever, and is treated with more media traction than John McCain’s Rascal Scooter [19], Brett Favre still has the same roots as everyone else; if everyone else was a record setting, overcoming odds playing, accident surviving, special education teacher. So when you watch the bearded wonder sling footballs in north Jersey this season, remember the collegiate, drunken, spectacular, path he took to get there. [20]

[1] Pretty much the A.C. Slater of Hancock North Central High
[2] Henry Rowengartner
[3] Probably where young Brett first learned to throw on the run while anchoring what was most likely Mississippi’s most boring high school offense.
[4] Cool beard Aaron Rogers
[5] Favre played the field more than Wilmer Valderrama
[6] Brett chartered a plane from his home to his high school only to leave the homecoming pep rally and his illustrious high school career in the past
[7] He received only 1 offer, and it was Southern Mississippi- and it wasn’t to play quarterback
[8] 7th string quarterback is also the nickname for bass drum players in the marching band
[9] A freshmen asked to play cornerback is the 7th stringer instead, and then leaps over 6 guys to start = Lifetime Original Movie
[10] Was Favre in college Guy At the Keg or Great At Beer Pong Guy? Or just the A.C. Slater of College Parties?
[11] Two touchdowns and as many passing yards as his BAC
[12] The same year Sega Genesis came out- A,B,A,C,A,B,B- that’s the blood code for Mortal Kombat
[13] “Where the hell is my 9 iron, there’s a car accident outside and I’m standing around here with a 3 wood”
[14] Seriously.
[15] “We sucked.”
[16] That’s like being the coolest kid with a harelip.
[17] Not bad for a hung over 7th stringer.
[18] Other accomplishments include: Mississippi Man of the Year 1969-1991, completing 17 successful spinal operations, building 8 churches with his bare hands, saving over 7,000 kittens from trees, and turning a hot dog and 2 beers into enough alcohol and food for an entire tailgate party.
[19] “All senior citizens should have Life Alert! Help I’ve fallen and I can’t get up™”
[20] Eat your heart out Chuck Norris.

By Jim Kelly Jr.

The trade deadline has come and gone and as we saw Manny Being Manny out on the west coast and the man too old to be called Junior move to Chi-town it was interesting to notice how MLB shifted in just a couple of weeks. Still the top two aren’t going anywhere in what looks to be a potential World Series matchup that will face a rally monkey vs. a cursed goat. Only time will tell, but until now let’s check in on the Race to the Top…

1. Angels in the Outfield
Who needs Danny Glover when you’ve got Mark Texieria? The Angels are officially a powerhouse, filled with young dominant pitching, a closer that never runs out of gas, and a lineup that never seems to end. The scary thing about the Angels is that they don’t need the Thunder Sticks to win; they’re 17 games over .500 on the road, 7 games better than their home record. A solid lineup with balanced power backs a staff headed by Joe Saunders, who’s stat line this year looks like it was aided by Christopher Lloyd.

2. The Bartman Bunch
I really didn’t think the Cubbies had it in them. The Brew Crew with all of their big midseason moves and fan buzz around them closed in on the Chi-town gang quickly, and the C.C.-Prince combo must have been looming over Wrigley- literally. But the Cubs stroll into the town of sausage and hand Bernie Brewer a sweep, leaving them the clear favorite in the National League to potentially blow a World Series. As of this minute I’m typing Rich Harden isn’t injured, so the Cubs are still playing on borrowed time.

3. The Fred McGriff All Stars
August 1st has come and gone and the Rays are still in first place. There’s no other fan base in MLB that is hoping for the regular season to end faster than those of the Rays, who pray the pitching staff holds up and Evan Longoria will date them, be they man or woman. They love their baseball inside in Tampa Bay, and the Rays have fended off a push from the Sox and the Yanks to keep a comfortable albeit shaky lead in baseball’s most publicized division. The team finds a way to win, even when the highest average on their team is .279 and their highest paid player makes a chump change $6 million, and they’ll need to keep holding on throughout the fall.

4. Ozzie Guillen’s Old Men
Adding Ken Griffey Jr. to an already aging and crowded lineup is like adding another guy to the old folk’s home rocking the latest model from The Scooter Store. This was a good team without Junior though, and while adding him to the lineup might be like adding too many cooks to a kitchen, he can still produce runs. The Sox will have to find a way to win on the road though, being 7 games under .500 when they’re away from the windy city, and they’ll have to find it soon as the Twins are breathing awkwardly on the back of their neck.

5. Sausagefest
How can they crack the Top 5 after having such a poor couple of weeks? It’s simple, because even with the Brewers getting swept by the Cubbies and then fighting in their dugout over the last vegan tofu sausage the team is still a major threat to the NL Central race. Ryan Braun is a beast at the plate, and by the looks of him nowhere else, and his offensive production has been the key to the Brewers remaining in the race to the top complementing C.C. and Ben Sheets at the top of the rotation. Maybe fighting is just what this team needed to do, as they were comfortably winning and riding the most media attention they’ve had since the Regan administration.

Right on their heels…

Little Big Leaguer’s
The Twins are making their patented late season push, as copyright infringed upon by the A’s in past years, and the White Sox are now sweating out the top spot in the AL Central. The Twins, A’s, and Braves are probably the best teams in recent years to make the playoffs and know for a fact they won’t win the World Series. They are small market teams built for the regular season and having orange slices and trips to Dairy Queen after the game. Plus playing with a tarp for an outfield wall diminishes your creditability.

The Jason Bay Allstars
They can win without Manny, but for how long? Jason Bay has always been a productive player stuck on an unproductive team, and look for him to contribute throughout his tenure in Boston nicely. The firepower from this lineup is lost though; no more are the Sox the team with the fearsome lineup and odds on favorite. Boston will now have to rely a little more on small ball and total lineup production, and a fingers-crossed mentality when it comes to Big Papi and the lack of protection for his bat.

The City of Brotherly Mediocrity
The NL East is just not a good division, but it’s a fact to easily look over when you look at the Quadruple A division; the NL West. Still the Phillies lead the way with the Marlins and Mets hot on their tail down the road to average baseball.

The Bottom 3San Diego Padres, Washington Nationals, Seattle Mariners
Enjoy the Jason Taylor tenure in Washington.

By Jim Kelly Jr.

Want to get into the Olympic spirit? Want to partake in an event that makes you proud to compete for world recognition? Want to create enough staggering drunk people you’ll think you’re at a Lohan family dinner? Then look no more, as your competitive spirit will soar when you partake in Beer Olympics.

The rules, regulations, and BAC for Beer Olympics are always different to anyone who has ever played, but my goal here is to give you the basic guidelines so that you too can one day stand proud on a podium, a beer in one hand, your pride in another, and claim you are the best competitor your party has ever seen that given night.

The Equipment:
You’ll need a keg or two, just for beer pouring purposes and number of participants. Having a keg will allow you to truly never stop drinking, which is of course in the spirit of competition and will lead to more plot twists in your night than an episode of Lost. You will also need these items in no particular order: a bat, ping pong balls, hard alcohol, shot glasses, a funnel, generic red solo cups, and ten or so worthy drunkards. Your participants are the most important factor next to the beer, as for they will have to be ready to not only compete, but compete drunkenly, and potentially throw up on each other. As for apparel you’ll want to wear things that accentuate your drinking abilities, like an old little league uniform or some UPS delivery guy duds; you know something that makes sense. Also hanging motivational posters are a plus; remember Impossible is Nothing.

The Rules, Events, and Ways to Become a Champion:
In the real Olympics (the one without the beer) there are multiple events with solo and/or team competitors all vying for medals in a variety of sports. You don’t have the time, energy, or alcohol tolerance to do any of this, so the best way to have the most fun while getting the largest number of competitors involved is the Team Relay event. Take your participants and split them in half, preferably in old school kickball pick-teams style, and be sure to choose your team wisely as they’ll have to be skilled in all areas of drinking and boast a very high alcohol tolerance, an uncanny ability to play drinking games, and most likely an embarrassing GPA. Now that you’ve got your team and forced them through the random drug testing, to make sure that they are inebriated, you can move on to the competition.

Dizzy Bat- Each team will pick a leadoff man, built for speed and chugging ability to pull out to an early lead, and face them off against each other after the opening ceremonies when you played The Thong Song and held your beer to your mouth until it was gone. After a shotgun start the players must chug a beer, then spin around their bats ten times before running off to the next event. If you can pad your walls do so as after they spin you’ll have a few potential Gary Busey moments during their runs.

Beer Pong- This is where you separate the men from the boys. There are always the exceptional beer pong players, the ones that play at 6pm on a Tuesday night just because there’s nothing else to do, and this is where they’ll need to find their inner MJ-with-the-flu competitor. Hitting 3 beer pong cups normally shouldn’t be a problem for the average guy who drinks 8 nights a week, but after the dizzy bat even the Mathlete has a shot at competing against your team as your teammate most likely will be throwing balls at everyone’s faces (that’s what she said). Hit three cups and move on to…

Flip Cup- This is where you can make up the most ground, or fall painfully and humiliatingly behind. Drink three, flip three, run away.

Quarters- Your mom used to play quarters after smoking something from a conch shell and listening to Peter Frampton Comes Alive. Quarters make a triumphant return during the Beer Olympics though, and hopefully someone has enough throwback skills on your team to be able to bounce a quarter into a shot glass of your favorite I’m-going-to-puke- liquor. Some suggestions would be Jager or Southern Comfort. Give your Mexican team tequila in order to ensure they’ll return all the beer they drank on your front lawn.

The Funnel- Some funnels are won on the boardwalk during your sophomore year of high school summer, while others are born from creativity and a trip to Home Depot. The best funnel would be a two story funnel, one that’ll require two beers being poured into the top and down the tubing into the throat of the competitor. Have a true champion and they’ll down it in no time, but have a Jamaican bobsledder and your teammate will be sifting through more foam than a Chucky E. Cheese pedophile. Down the beers and slap your teammate to start the process again.

Now your team should start to build a sizable lead, or fall depressingly behind. The events allow for anyone to come back at anytime whether it by errant ping pong ball or troubles with SoCo. To spice things up and ensure someone might have to go to the hospital you can play Survivor Beer Olympics, where the worst participant on the losing team is voted off until there one team is completely eliminated. If by some fluke or poor scores from the East Germans a girl should happen to win as outright best Beer Olympic performer the top hit from the song poets The Baha Men should be played as they stand on the podium and bask in their glory. As for the rest of you pick out your own song when you choose who your best performer was, and make sure you take the moment in right then and there. Remember, for one night you were the top performer; the man who battled the odds and took down the competition. Bask in your accomplishment all night, because chances are you won’t remember it tomorrow.

By Jim Kelly Jr.

It shouldn’t end like this.

In sports there are players that personify teams. Players that characterize the city they play in, the attitude they play with, and the highlights they create. The same goes for couples. When you think of Brad Pitt you think of Angelina and third world children. When you think of the Yankees you think of Derek Jeter third world children grown up playing baseball. These long term relationships are branded into our sports fan lives, like Kobe and the Lakers or Tiger and the entire sport of golf. But much like the countless problems Kobe has gone through, sometimes these relationships have bumps in the road, and sometimes the breakup is the only way out. Both sides know something is there, that just maybe things might work out, but it’s just too late; there’s just too much baggage.

There are a few different kinds of sports breakups. You can have the Quiet Breakup- the kind where there’s a known problem, maybe an incident happened a few weeks ago that one side really can’t get over- say you called her parents fat, uneducated slobs. You made up and swear everything is fine, but the tension remains. Finally one side wants out, burdonned by the memory of what happened, and in time their wish in granted. Everything was fine for a while, and it seemed like this was a life long fit, but after that infamous moment nothing will ever be the same. Jeremy Shockey and the Giants did this, as Shock was out for the most improbable playoff run ever and was quickly replaced in the minds of the fans by a rookie. His antics and playing style fired up Giant fans and made the rest of the league despise him as a showboating punk. He played hard and candid, even if it meant complaining about his lack of receptions in a game, yet it never seemed like him and Jekyll and Hyde Manning were on the same page. Once he was left out of the Super Bowl triumph it was easy to see he wanted to be left out of New York all together, and while fans will miss him it's hard to blame him for making the decision.

There’s the Mean Spirited Breakup. Maybe you had a fight and now every time you see each other the sarcastic comments flare up like that thing she gave you but never told you about. You’re having cordial conversations on the way to a mutual friend's party but give her a beer and she’ll start telling everyone that you don’t satisfy her enough and you haven’t washed the jeans you’re wearing since you started dating 3 years ago. Follow that up with an awkward week long silence filled with sarcastic jokes and ill willed quipps to mutual friends and you’ve got the Jason Taylor break up. Taylor and Tuna never got on the same page, maybe Bill was jealous of Jason’s samba abilities, and the animosity carried over to Taylor’s eventual escape to Dan Synderville. Taylor was the Dolphins though, a great player stuck on an under performing team that still lives in the shadow of laces out Dan Marino of nearly a decade ago. His production, leadership, and promotional skills will be missed in Miami now, a city desperate for wins and large enough elastic wasitbands for the Tuna.

There is everyone's favorite- the I-Told-You-That-Bitch-Was-Crazy breakup. You liked her for her free spirit and ability to get along with all of your friends, but deep down you knew something was a little off. She started making your friends beaded necklaces and dancing on every bar she could find from family resturant to sushii, but you shrugged it off because she had an outgoing personality and she was a bit out of your league. Now she’s saying you don’t appreciate her and the way she lives her life and she went ahead and pulled a Carrie Underwood on your car while stealing the passwords to your voicemail and emails and alerting everyone you know about how horrible a boyfriend you are and one time you pee’d the bed after a long night at the bar. You could probably tell this is the Manny Ramirez breakup- a long, unorthodox, painful ordeal that pulled out all the stops to Bizzaro-ville filled with media rants and homemade dug out signs. The Red Sox fans will always loves Manny being Manny, his antics and more importantly run production personified the greatest run in franchise history, but management has their own frustrating take on the situation. A me-first player with unpredictable moods to match his majestic home runs. Sox fans had the greatest times of their sports lives with Manny, but he fell out of favor with eventually everyone and the bittersweet departure into the arms of Joe Torre is like watching your crazy ex girlfriend start to date the quarterback from your rival high school, only like 6 years later. Or would it be like your rival quarterback’s dad? I don’t know.

Then there is the worst kind of breakup for everyone involved- The Long Breakup. It was the greatest run of your life, as your walls are filled with pictures from your multiple vacations together and cards she gave you over the years with flowers and babies dressed as adults on them in black and white. But you’re falling out of favor with her now, she’s grown tired of complacency and she just doesn’t see a future with you, even though her parents, family friends and great aunt Edna all love you. You want to come back, she isn’t sure, she wants you back, then you want out, then you want back and she says nay- too much has happened. No one is pointing fingers, it’s just…things have changed, and while you call her parents to explain your side and text message Edna for advice (and her oatmeal cookie recipe) it’s over, you know it, she knows it, but you just don’t know how to break it off. So it drags on, your stubbornness shining through, so much so that you charter a plane to see her in Wisconsin. It’s the Brett Favre breakup- the dragged out public ordeal that has everyone just wishing it would go away. In the beginning the friends and family took sides, saying who was in the wrong and who was trying to make things right, heck even Edna took your side. Yet now after months have passed everyone just wants it to go away, be together or stay apart, whatever you choose we don’t want to talk about it anymore.

The loser in all of these breakups will always be the sports fan, who is like the mutual friend to the couple, someone forced to listen to both sides of the story and give one liners like “I don’t know where it all went wrong” and “you’re going to be fine”. The problem is the sports fan is the only one emotionally invested in all of these relationships. In the real world people breakup and it hurts them the most. In the sports world the breakups only hurt the one’s on the outside, as teams will move on in free agency and the draft and players will find a payday in some other greener pasture. It’s the business aspect that gets in the way, and while the player can say thank you for the memories the sports fan has no grounds to say anything but the same thing back to them. Taylor, Shockey, ManRam and Favre all had great runs, Hall of Fame runs for a few, and while both sides are still good for each other the breakups all will eventually be better for everyone involved. They have to be, as in a world where media quotes from text messages and private conversations with reporters break headlines to teams and fans it’s the impersonal breakup that dominates the sports landscape. There are no more closed door meetings, no more hashing out your problems and looking for a way out, just phone calls and text messages to Chris Mortensen or Peter Gammons to air out your feelings and desires to move on.

Now as each player moves on the fans will know that for whatever reason things just didn’t work when they were here, and now like the mutual friend you’ll wish the best for both sides without ever mentioning either of them to each other for fear of bringing up awkward situations. I’m sure now Pack fans will be glad with Favre no matter what happens because he gave them so many years of promise, and Sox fans will look back on the Manny years with a feeling of nostalgia, like the feeling you get when you hear 50 Cent- In Da Club.

Yet the time to move on has come and gone, and while some players skipped town and never looked back the fans are the ones left to continue forward and wait for the next relationship to carry their franchise, always hoping that this one is the one, and the only baggage they carry with them is a ring.