November 16, 2002

So the Cubs hired Dusty Baker. Great. Call me Big Stupid Cynical Tommy. See, Don Baylor was a good motivator, as well. "Supposedly." He'd done great things with the Rockies and was supposed to bring new discipline and direction to an undisciplined and directionless Cubs locker room. What we found out was that the inmates run the asylum, as it were. They bucked against Don's discipline (especially that Mack Newton bullshit, which I don't blame). Sammy refused a leadership roll. Don't get me started on the Prima Donna Ballerina from Republica Dominica

Add to that: Don Baylor is to Baseball Strategy what Beethoven is to Baseball Strategy.

Which is what's got me worried. Sure, Dusty's a great motivator. And he's got experience with superstars who won't take leadership rolls (ahem, Barry Bonds).

However, Dusty's not necessarily the best strategist. He's competent. But he's got a little bit of LaRussa Syndrome. (i.e. I'm gonna outhink EVERYBODY including me).

I'm glad the Cubs have put this foot forward in hiring a manager. I mean, really, Who the Hell is Bob Melvin?

Or should I say 2003 A.L. Manager of the Year Bob Melvin.

Nah, the Mariners are older and will probably lose Jamie Moyer.

Enough about all that baseball jazz.

I want you all to stop for a second and think about your obligations. Did you buy me a sandwich?

Do you remember the episode of Seinfeld where Elaine's date had to stop and freeze whenever "Desperado" came on the radio? I've developed a real affinity for the "Suicide is Painless" M*A*S*H theme. It's a good thing they never play that on the radio, because the song makes me cry really, really hard.

We had a girl knock on the door tonight. Insistent. And after the first round of knocks, she waits about two seconds, and knocks again. She was selling newspaper subscriptions. I wanted to tell her I can't read, but I don't have those kind of balls. When I made it clear that in no way were we interested in The Tennessean (a fine publication, but one I don't have extra money for), the sales girl tried to bum a cigarette.

I told my sister that I wanted chainmail for Christmas. She didn't believe me. Wouldn't that just serve me right for me to wake up Christmas morning and find that my family has given me four suits of chainmail? And nothing else?

Probably.