Those are my dad’s tickets for the Rice v. SMU game last Friday night. Unused. My dad loves Rice football. He lives for it, this season almost literally so. See, my dad has pancreatic cancer. Don’t know if you know much about it, but if you had to pick a cancer to have, you’d pick pancreatic last. It’s a death sentence. The average lifespan from diagnosis is six months.

About six weeks ago my dad developed an esophageal problem on top of that. His surgery to correct it had complications and he ended up doing nine days in ICU and about five weeks total in a hospital bed. Last week he was moved to a skilled nursing facility, but he’s fucked. There’s not much left of him and, even if puts in the work to rehab successfully, he’ll be functional just in time for the cancer to ravage what’s left of him. But throughout this entire summer, my dad has been focused on one thing. I heard him say it explicitly many times: “I just want to be able to make it to the Rice season opener.”

The detailed story of how my dad couldn’t attend the game in person is pretty Hellerian. Basically it was either release my father into my care against medical advice and forfeit any future insurance coverage, or have a physician give medical clearance. Seeing how I’m not independently wealthy and lack basic equipment like the device to operate a feeding tube—my dad is currently on one—my taking him was a non-starter. As for the doctor giving him a medical release, nobody seemed to fully grasp the importance of this game to my father.

If the aim of the medical industrial complex is the care of the sick and the dying then agents at every stop here failed. Some were greater failures than others. Evelyn Huey at Memorial Hermann, fail. Freddie Green at HCR ManorCare, fail. And more than anyone else Dr. Anitha Gowda, complete and utter failure. Dr. Gowda might be the most shit sorry excuse of a professional I’ve ever come across. Most decent human beings in a situation like this would at least have the courtesy to return (or take) a phone call and speak in person with the concerned parties.

Throughout the entire process I couldn’t help but think that if this were a 13-year-old child, people would be bending over backwards to make this happen. But they weren’t. This was just another decaying 70-year-old man, one on whom they all passed the bureaucratic buck.

About 5 pm on Friday afternoon, when it was clear there was no eleventh hour stay of execution phone call coming from the governor, my dad turned to me and said, “They certainly don’t seem to care about your mental health.” I had no choice but to say maybe the saddest six words I ever said to my father: “No, it doesn’t seem they do.”

I cleared out the hospitality room at the nursing facility and at 7 pm rolled my dad in front of the flat screen to watch the game along with my brother. It was a poor substitute, and, as much as my father enjoyed the time with his family, you could read on his face the disappointment that he wasn’t at the stadium. In some ways it was worse than missing the game entirely. It forced him to realize he wasn’t well and might not be getting better.

Rice won. In fact they dismantled SMU 56-27. The Owls are usually on the butt-end of 30-point pastings, but after spotting SMU 13 points, Rice went on an improbable 56 to 7 run. It was nice to watch, but it’s not the same on TV. It just isn’t. And by not being there in person, I will forever feel like I was deprived of the last best memory to share with my father.

Sports are unimportant. Any time something truly monumental happens that interrupts the sports calendar, we get reminded of this. And I agree. Relative to things like war and disasters, sports are a total diversion. But for unimportant shit, man sports provoke the most visceral emotional reactions. For example, I hate Barry Bonds with the white hot intensity of the surface of Sirius and I’ve never even met the fucking guy. And there are only two things in this world that make me cry. One is the ending to <i>Cinema Paradiso</i>. I like to think I’m a tough guy, but that reduces me to a fucking fountain. The other: The Miracle on Ice. A bunch of college kids who had no business being on the ice with that Soviet Red Army team. They had even less business beating them.

In fact my favorite image from all of sports comes from the on-ice postgame celebration. You can see it <a href=”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aRALJyv86eY”>here</a> at about the 2:41 mark. It’s the Soviet player, he’s kneeling on the ice and, with his arm draped over his stick, staring at the Americans with slackjawed jealousy. He’s not envious because the Americans won. It’s because they are celebrating with such unbridled and awkward joy. He knows that, had the Soviets won, they wouldn’t have celebrated like that. They would have merely shaken hands and skated off the ice after another methodical dismantling of an inferior opponent. You can tell in that two-and-a-half second shot that he long ago forgot what it was to play a game for the simple fucking joy in it.

There are so few moments in life like that, moments of pure, distilled joy. And so many of them for me revolve around sports. It might be kind of sad to admit that, but I’ve never been married and never had kids. So I have sports.

Yeah, it was just a football game my dad wanted to see. It wasn’t even a very good one. From a competitive standpoint it was a blowout. But it was one my dad cared deeply about. One that might have reminded him that life is worth living, that the daily struggle to rehab is worth it, that there are brief emotional respites from all the physical misery that seems to be awaiting him.

So if our healthcare system is going to tell me that sports isn’t therapy, sports isn’t rehab, sports isn’t reason to let someone out of their deathbed to go see a football game, then I’ll tell you our healthcare system is more fucked than I could ever imagine.

Dear Kenny Wiliams:

I imagine you worry about who or what your trigger happy manager might go off on next, or maybe that the 38-year-old you just traded for will get hurt (may or may not have already have happened). But you shouldn’t trifle over such trivialities.

Instead you should be worried about me because I can control the fate of the Chicago White Sox.

Don’t laugh.

I have picked up three White Sox players this season in my fantasy league and my doing so caused them to start sucking harder and faster than a pornstar facing a penis covered in coke and cash.

Don’t believe me? I have photographic evidence here, here, and here [Okay, link coming]. But that’s me, the Little Lebowski Urban Achievers and I am killing your players.

Exhibit A: In Week 8 (May 19, 2008), I picked up A.J. Pierzynski. I think I had drafted Ivan Rodriguez but failed to account for him being old. So I needed a replacement. Pierzynski was available and was hitting .308 entering the week. When I was done with him six days later—our scoring periods are one week and the South Siders had off that Monday—he was hitting .283 and his OPS had plummeted almost 70 points.

During the time I had him, Pierzynski went 1 for 20. Yes, he hit .050. After I dropped him and he went 4 for his next 10 (.400) and 13 for his next 40 (.325)

Exhibit B: Week 11. Jose Contreras. On straight fantasy points he looks like he did okay. But he was a two start pitcher and almost half of the total—8 of his 16.17—came by virtue of his picking up a quality start. Looking at the pitching numbers it’s less good.Far less good. Contreras went 0-2 with a 6.93 ERA.

Like with A.J., this was a huge drop as, before I acquired him, Contreras was borderline dominant. In his previous 7 appearances he was 4-1 with an ERA of 1.98 and 34Ks in 50 IP. His previous 6 appearances were all quality starts in which he posted a cumulative 1.47 ERA. Then I added him to my roster.

Exhibit C: Mark Buehrle. Again picked up as a two-start pitcher for this week (July something through August 3), Buehrle had also been cruising before donning a LLUA shirt. Going back to June 1, he was 6-2 with a 1.99 ERA in 10 starts with all but one of those being a quality start.

I add him to my roster and he goes 0-2 with an 11.58 ERA. He didn’t make it past the 5th in either outing and gave up 22 hits while allowing more HRs (4) than he had Ks (3). Saturday against the lowly Royals he had his worst outing of the season.

For the week I got less than 1 point from Buerhle. By comparison, a QS in our league is usually worth at least 16 points and up to over 25 (complete game shut outs go for upwards of 35). So, based on his last 10 starts, my minimum expected value from Buehrle this week was 28.8 points (or .9*(16+16)). Again, he didn’t even give me a single point, just fractions thereof.

One is an accident. Two is a trend. Three is metaphysical certainty. And these are the only three Sox I’ve had on my team at any point this season. With a few clicks of the mouse, I can wreck anyone on the South Side.

So, Mr. Williams, pay me. And pay me some serious money. I’m thinking like low seven figures. Or else.

Or else I’l trade Josh Hamilton for Carlos Quentin straight up. I’ll move Tim Lincecum for John Danks. Non-closers have almost no value in our league, so it’s no problem to go grab Linebrink and Dotel. Boom goes the bullpen.

I’m not joking Kenny, my next fantasy moves could see Comisculllar empty by September 1.

Oh, and other GMs in the Central, I’m also open to straight bribes. Basically, I’m now a whore to the highest bidder.

And I’m okay with that because I’ve never had this kind of power before.

So in the aftermath of the Bissinger v. Leitch showdown on Costas Now there was, somewhat predictably, an uproar across the Internet. A little more surprising was that the discussion spilled over to “traditional” media (radio, TV, print), but, hey, when a respected writer starts to look like he’s going Cruise, who doesn’t feel the need to either attack or apologize?

Clearly, me neither.

Anyway, most of the reactions were telegraphed with blogs defending blogging, basically claiming that many old guard writers, like Bissinger, were scared or threatened.

Really?

Bissinger is a Pulitzer Prize winning journalist. Friday Night Lights—widely regarded as one of the better sports books ever written—was made into a movie, as was his Vanity Fair account of Stephen Glass’ downfall. Universal Pictures recently optioned the rights to another Vanity Fair piece he did, “Gone With the Wind” about—God help us—Barbaro (appropriate because Bissinger is also a horse fucker). And if his wikipedia page is to be believed, he’s pocketed enough dough to lead a bi-coastal life.

So, what exactly would Bissinger, or any of his ilk, be afraid of? That blogs are going to render him irrelevant and he’ll have no place to ply his trade? Uh, the printing press has been around since the 1400s, blogs for about a decade or so. And I haven’t seen Michael Wilbon pulled from PTI and replaced with “Big Daddy Balls.”

In fact, I agree with many of the old men shaking their typewriter ribbons and shouting, “Hey kids, get off of my media” that many blogs are awful, unreadably so. But I also think that the market solves this problem. Amazingly, people are smart enough to discern bad (and untrustworthy) writing from good (as well as bad TV from good).

And because I can do the same, why the fuck would I want to read Jay Mariotti when there are thousands of more thoughtful and thought-provoking people available with the click of a mouse? I wouldn’t.

I’m not here to defend Bissinger. Instead I’d like to suggest a different interpretation to all this. Maybe Buzz Bissinger is just a dick.

Seriously? Who gets that worked up about writing—and I’m going to guess writing he doesn’t even consume much of (blogs) as he thinks they are “dedicated to cruelty”—to take it out on someone with such vitriol, especially another writer, on TV as Bissinger did on Costas? What? Did he think he was going to extinguish the entire Internet with one stomp of his self-important rhetorical shoe?

But it wasn’t just the TV appearance. Bissinger has been a complete dick in other media. Unfortunately, Exhibit 2 is going to be hard to share with you because, well, it’s been taken down.

There was an audio clip of Bissinger appearing on the Boog Sciambi show on 790 the Ticket in Miami.

I swear, this isn’t shoddy journalism, but the clip that was there on May 1, 2008 is now gone (after having been there for quite some time as the interview was apparently conducted in June of 2007). Anyway, proof that other people saw (or heard it) can be found here, here, here, and here at Fire Joe Morgan where I fist came across it.

[Ed Note: See, I wasn't lying. Either the clip is back or my browser was just being retarded for a while (probably the latter). If the original isn't available above, I archived it here (mp3 link).]

Basically, in the interview Bissinger is talking about an article he wrote for the New York Times Play magazine detailing how pitchers are no longer getting enough innings in the minors before being called up and it’s killing their careers.

Sciambi said, more or less, what’s great about stats is that you can look these things up and tell whether they are valid or not (and if you click on the Fire Joe Morgan link, you’ll see they aren’t and that Bissinger was either being lazy or stupid enough to take Tony LaRussa at this word).

Bissinger first responded by saying something like (paraphrasing) “Well for every study that says one thing there are 14 others that say something else…”

Then when pressed more by Sciambi—because how many innings a pitcher logged in the minors isn’t a “study” so much as a fact—Bissinger went insta-prick, changed the subject and started to badmouth another host who has a show on that station, like he hadn’t progressed beyond a 3rd grade level of debate. Sciambi, somewhat justifiably, hung up on Bissinger at that point.

It’s too bad the clip is gone, because it’s really quality stuff. And it does support the thesis here, namely that Bissinger isn’t scared of blogs so much as he’s just a dick. Now, I’ve never met Bissinger, maybe he’s Mother Theresa and Lady Di all rolled into one (only without two vaginas). But in the only two appearances of him I’ve come across, he’s swung and missed on both, and I think he knows enough about baseball, even without having to look anything up, to figure out that you don’t get too many more strikes than that.

As for Costas’ inability to distinguish posts from comments, that’s another post.

These two things I know:

1) Nobody cares about your fantasy team. While in this case “your” means “my,” it’s true for everybody. The only person who cares about your team, who you drafted, and what trades you made, is you. Even the people you might be playing in your head-to-head league don’t care, or they only care inasmuch as you suck that week.

2) I realize there has only been one week played in the MLB season.

But that’s not going to stop from proclaiming that my team might be the worst ever. At least offensively.

Of nine position players, I have only 2 hitting over .300, while 5 of my players are hitting at .200 or worse. That’s right, over half my line-up is below the Mendoza line.

That doesn’t sound that bad for week one, but remember this is fantasy. I’m in a 10-team league, so it’s not like we’re having to load roasters up with Adam Everetts and Chris Burkes.

Here’s what the worst fantasy line-up in the world actually looks like (Name, current BA, (2007 BA), difference):

Travis Hafner .261 (.266) -.005
Aramis Ramirez .211 (.310) -.099
Ivan Rodriguez .200 (.281) -.081
Carl Crawford .167 (.315) -.148
Matt Holliday .143 (.340) -.197
Eric Byrnes .125 (.286) -.161
Placido Polanco .087 (.341) -.254

The lot is collectively batting .135 points below their 2007 averages. That is awful.

Okay, it’s only a partial list as the Dodgers have been downright competent. In fact if my two Dodgers—James Loney .386 (.331) and Rafael Frucal .429 (.270)—continue at anything near those paces, I’ll turn cartwheels naked in October. But for now, they have simply saved me from being embarrassingly bad in the opening week (Actually because of my pitching I still had a chance to pull one of my two match-ups out, but the points I didn’t get because Erik Bedard was scratched from his second start Sunday pretty much killed me).

The best of that bunch (and ‘best’ here meaning ‘worst’) might look like Polanco. But he’s actually put good wood on the stick in most of his at bats. He just can’t hit ‘em where they ain’t. No, Matt Holliday has been the biggest Week 1 bed shitter given his 2007 season. So far Holliday has 7 K’s in 21 AB’s, including a golden sombrero in midweek. That’s Adam Dunn-esque. Actually it’s even a slightly higher clip than Sr. K who averaged just under a 1-in-3 clip in 2007.

Here’s a partial list of people whose better is better than Matt Holiday’s better after week one of the MLB season (nice commercial, moron).

Randy Winn
Carlos Quentin
Adam Jones
Jeff Salazar
Paul McAnulty
Brian Barton
Alfredo Amezaga
Skip Schumaker
Chris Burke
Brett Carroll
Jayson Werth
Gabe Gross
Nyjer Morgan
Mike Morse
Nathan Haynes
Emil Brown

Provided that Adam Jones isn’t the same guy known as Pac Man and who plays in the NFL, that’s 9 guys I’ve never even heard of, and that makes for one shitastic week, Matt.

[Ed. Note: This list is now wrong as I started this post as the Rockies were entering the late innings in their Sunday afternoon tilt against the Diamondbacks. Holliday hit a bottom of the 9th HR to tie the game and make his first week look far less awful. But A) I'm feeling too lazy to change the numbers and B) it doesn't help much as it's too little too late and I still opened 0-2 (and the Rockies still lost.]

I am defying all kinds of statistical probabilities this year. The line is supposed to make it a 50-50 proposition*. So just by randomly picking teams, I should be around .500. It’s not a large sample size, but it’s getting large enough.

I’m not close. I am 3-17, including an 0-fer my last 8. For what it’s worth, I don’t think I’ve gotten laid in the last couple of weeks either, so I’m failing in pretty much every aspect of my sinning life.

Although getting drunk? Still not a problem.

Anyway, my .150 winning percentage is beyond bad. And I watch a lot of college football. It’s not healthy. So you’d think I’d be better at this. Nope.

I’m giving up. I’m not quitting, just switching tactics. I’m going to be a monkey throwing his own poo at a computer screen and see what happens. I brought up a page with all the games and the lines, closed my eyes, put my finger to the screen and picked the team my finger landed on. And I’m just going to justify it after the fact.

And if that doesn’t work, I’m going buy a hooker and hope that turns everything around next week. Picks after the jump.

Washington -2.5 at Stanford.

Jake Locker is good. Stanford is bad. Okay, so they had their miraculous upset over USC and I’d like to stay with them for purely emotional reasons, but their coach is from Michigan so I can’t buy in fully. Yes, the diploma on Harbaugh’s wall has zero impact on the game on the field but rationality hasn’t worked for me, so I’m going to try my feelings. Sorry if you didn’t come here to get picks from a girl.

Illinois -16 at Minnesota

Minnesota’s uniforms are ugly. Illinois has a QB named Juice. If you can come up with more compelling justifications for your wagering, I’m all ears. Other than the fact that Minnesota is only okay on offense (42nd nationally and 7th in the Big 10) and gawdawful on defense (120th nationally and 11th in the Big 10).

Arizona +3.5 over UCLA

Who is playing QB for UCLA? Don’t care, I’ll take a crappy Pac 10 team at home getting points against a disappointing Pac 10 team on the road. Plus I think there are slightly hotter chicks at Zona. Ladies…

Georgia -16.5 over Troy

Didn’t the Dawgs just beat the University of Florida Tebows by 12 last week. They only have to manage an additional +4.5 over Troy this week. And they are at home? Everything about this screams ’sucker bet’ right? But I’m not backing down from my methodology this week. Georgia got fingered, they are my pick.

If Gabe Kaplan’s Stylist gets his picks up, I’ll post my witty rejoinder to his only slightly-less stupidity.

You know, Gabe, your non-sequitur intros are bordering on Kings Larry and Peter in their relevance and cohesion. Frankly, as long as Joe Buck isn’t at the table I can dine with anyone. I really don’t need a pitch man for booze telling me that something Randy Moss did is disgusting (*cough* hypocrite *cough*). Plus I don’t think Summit, Packer, or Schilling ever had daddy help get them a job.

What’s that got to do with college football? Nothing. I’m just following your lead. And as long as we are talking gambling, I’ll bite on your proposition. I’ll bet every penny to my name as of today that Summit couldn’t take Vandy to an SEC football title in five years. Make her coach, and let’s make this bet happen.

Oklahoma State (+3) over Texas (Agree)

Texas is a total fraud. All Bill Callahan had to do was say, “Hey, somebody, let’s tackle #25,” and he could have beaten the Horns in Austin last week. Yep, Texas could have easily lost to a shit Huskers team in disarray at home. Plus, OSU is coached by a man, he’s 40.

Michigan (-4 1/2) over Michigan State (Agree)

I thought about picking this game, but my finger didn’t touch either team (“Show me on the doll…”) so I had to leave it be. This is in East Lansing, right? Doesn’t matter. The same way Carr can’t beat OSU, no matter who is coaching State can’t be the Wolverines.

Notre Dame -3 over Navy (Disagree)

Okay, this is the total trendy pick. The streak. A crappy Notre Dame team. Etc. But really think about this. First off Navy got beat by Delaware last week. And the Blue Hens hung 59 on the Middies. As woeful as ND has been, don’t you think they out-athlete Delaware at every position? Yes, Navy always overachieves against ND. And this ND team sucks, but the Irish have played a bitch-brutal schedule and it seems as if every week their opponent has shown up with their best game of the season (save UCLA which collapsed and handed the Irish their only win). Navy is still just 4-4 against one of the easiest schedules in the country and their wins are against teams that are a combined 13-20. Notre Dame wins. And by double digits. The only thing that scares me about this game is that Holtz gave his ESPN ‘pep talk’ to Navy and I think he’s 4-0 or something in pep talks.

Alabam +7 over LSU (Disagree)

I can’t believe I’m agreeing with you, but I think I like the theory of getting points in what seems like a toss-up. Plus Bama is at home, right? So why do you go against your own wisdom? LSU had no business beating Auburn at home last week. LSU is still coached by Les Miles. And Saban figures out how to beat his old players. Serenity now!

(* I understand it’s not technically true as the line’s purpose is just to get equal action on both sides, but I’m too tired to deal in nuances this week).

This was an exchange on Deadspin earlier today….

BY FAT-FAT AT 06:52 PM
@preciousroy: That’s why I never read kermittheblog anymore because you are mean. Or it could be you hardly ever post.

BY SCOUT AT 07:02 PM
The next phone call Favre received was an offer to pitch Fresca.

BY PRECIOUSROY AT 07:25 PM
@Fat-Fat: I am mean. And the blog has gone dormant while I work on a book.
But if you read, say, half of the other comments, they all pretty much say the same thing. Brett looks pretty fabulous in that pic. So, lighten up, Francis.

Scout wasn’t really involved, but I thought I’d post it over here to say, yes, I have been derelict in updating (for any of you still checking in). But I am working on a book. And it’s a pretty amazing story. It’s got a sports tangent in that the subject I’m working with played football at Washington State, but his entire story is pretty unbelievable. It makes me want to be a better person. And I am mean. I even admitted it.

Seriously, even when I’m being serious. I’m never being mean and my tounge is planted in cheek more often than not. If you’re not getting that from my posts, well, sorry. Actuallly, no. I’m not. It’s not my fault there is no ’snark’ tag for HTML.

But I am not going completely dormant. I will try to put some stuff up during the college football season, particularly picks on Fridays. I’m 5-1 in the last two weeks. Sure, it’s easy to say that now, but Rice has been free money this season. And only Cuse has burned me so far.

Also, bet against the Irish until after the USC game.

So, there will be more posts. More importantly, before too long there will be another book.

[Ed. Note: The pic in question can be found at the original Deadspin link here.]