EX-'Spo Endy's Extraordinary Exhibition

Until now, this year's post season has been about as exciting as watching paint dry. Yeah the Tigers swept the A's, earning a trip to the World Series. Yeah its the first time in 22 years. Yeah they clinched the ALCS on a walk off home run. I don't care. I'm still pissed about '87 when they overtook the Jays in the last two weeks to clinch the AL East.

On the NL side, The Cards and Mets are still duking it out in the NLCS. Two squads that I have absolutely no emotional attachment to in any way shape or form. So apathetic I am as to who emerges victorious, I am actually looking to see if there is a paint drying station that I can subscribe to on digital cable or perhaps a paint drying pay per view event being broadcast at a local pub. However, it is Game 7 and since Game 7 is Game 7, I have it on just in case anything interesting happens.

And wow. Something just did.



Leave it to ex-Expo, Endy Chavez to provide one of the SICKEST plays ever to be made on an October Baseball Field. Once again. Wow.

Collapse: A Bronx Tale

The great thing about October baseball is that even if your team didn't make the postseason, and the rest of slate is pretty much filled with teams that you are indifferent too, you can almost always take a certain fiendish pleasure in watching the demise of an enemy squad.

Sometimes such a practice helps to fill the gap in your heart. The space usually reserved for your favourite team. The spot just underneath the right ventricle that has a real estate sign planted in it, reading, "My Team. World Champions. This Year." The lot that, for most years of one's life, does not get a house built on it.

Sometimes one needs to occupy that lot with something, anything, just to keep the property fresh, just to keep the weeds from getting too unruly. Sometimes that thing is unabashed sadism.

Enter the '06 Yankees.

This season's script for the Bronx Bombers read like any other year's: devastating line up, mvp candidate (Derek Jeter), ridiculous rotation with an overachieving back end starter (Chien-Ming Wang), maddening late season acquisition (Bobby Abreau from Philly), a payroll large enough to purchase real estate on the moon, and the obligatory division title. The usual.

Which is why I found myself glued to my tube yesterday evening watching the 200 million dollar Yankee rims fall off yet again. In Detroit no less. Lee Iacocca must have been shaking his head.

Watching the Yankees in the post season provides a profound sense of perverse pleasure. Like witnessing a star collapsing in on itself to form a big ugly black hole. I just couldn't turn away. The gravitational pull was too darn strong.

How many times have you seen Star Wars? And how many times have you been on the edge of your seat cheering on Luke as he rockets down the Death Star corridor to fire those fateful proton torpedoes? And don't you let out a yelp of glee every time that big bad Death Star gets blown to smithereens? And does it ever get old? Of course it doesn't.

The Yanks' line up, of such epic proportion, was actually held scoreless for a 20 inning stretch over two games. Jeter, Matsui, Sheffield, Giambi, all big number boasters in the regular season left frozen in carbonite.

And A-rod... Where to begin? At this point the 252 million dollar man is an easier target to pick on than Jar Jar Binks so let's just leave it at that.












"Meesa gettin' outta here!! Meesa gettin' traded!!"

Now if the Mets could read a page out the Yank's October manual and crash their Tie Fighters, I'll be on cruise control for the rest of the month.

The Case For October...

An e-mail arrived from the Skip this morning entitled, "The Docket." Seeing as the Holiday Season is upon us once again as the MLB playoffs begin today, I could only assume that it would be a systematic breakdown of each squad in pursuit of World Series bling for their collective digits. The following is our correspondance regarding these pursuits.

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Good day;

The following is a transcript of recent proceedings at the Pistol courthouse.

“Hear ye! Hear ye! All rise, kiddies. This court is now in session. Honourable Judge Skip presiding. Pass me a Maudite.

First on the docket, case number 03.10.06.a, Gays v. Twinkies:

Prosecution: Hmmmmm. Ummmm. Does it count that we make the playoffs all the time despite a low payroll? How about that Frank Thomas comeback this year? Do we get points for Bobby Kielty’s hair?

Defence: Two words: Johan. Santana. He could potentially throw twice in this series, which would mean you’d have to win the other three. Oh, and have we mentioned the AL Batting leader (Mauer) and potential MVP (Morneau)? Plus we have a guy named Nick Punto. Who doesn’t root for Nick Punto?

Deliberation: Oakland has been involved some pretty dramatic Game 5 ALDS losses in the past few post-seasons. The only change this year? It happens in fewer games, and in far less dramatic fashion.

Verdict: Minny in 4. You can’t spell Twins without “wins”.

Now up, case number 03.10.06.b, Cardi-nulls v. Poopres:

Prosecution: Man, we really didn’t think you’d even make it this far. We’re pretty glad that we’re not facing the Astros right now, 'cause they would’ve beaten the hell out of us. You’re playing like total ass right now. Edmonds is still feeling his concussion, Rolen’s in the tank, your starters blow, your bullpen is worse, and we have Dave Roberts.

Defence: You ever see the kid who gets all excited and overconfident once mom gives him the extra pork chop at dinner instead of his older brother? You ever see what happens when the older brother actually tries to kick his younger brother’s ass?

Deliberation: Common sense and all professional prognosticators are calling for a Padres run through this. My gut, however, is going the other way. I’ve seen teams like the Cards before. Hell, I’ve played on teams like the Cards before. Seemingly invincible all season, have the division *almost* clinched, go into a bit of a slide, then do just enough to win. Bottom line: they DID enough to win. It doesn’t bode well for long-term playoff success, but there’s no way they’re not getting through the first round.

Verdict: Cards in 5 ugly, ugly baseball games.

Next on the docket, case number 03.10.06.c, Pussies v. Spankies:

Prosecution: Look at us!! We were in the lead in our division for 6000 straight days!!! We’re now all the way back from losing 150 games a few years ago!!! We’re the feel-good story!!! We haven’t been in the playoffs since 1987!!! Our manager smokes more than a forest fire!!!

Defence: Uhhhhh... have you seen our lineup? Do you realize that you have Kenny Rogers on your staff? Hey, how’d that last two weeks of the season go for you?

Deliberation: No team with a collective twig and berry-sack would ever get swept by the Royals (THE ROYALS, for godsake!!!!!) on the last weekend of the season to lose a division title. None. You hear me? None. The only reason this wasn’t talked about more was because everyone was preoccupied watching the house of Cards total collapse.

Verdict: Yanks in 3. Yup. Callin’ a sweep, here. Write it down.

Finally, case number 04.10.06, Dodgy-style v. Shyets:

Prosecution: Lowe, Maddux, and Penny get to face The Duke, Glavine, and Steve Trachsel. Steve Trachsel? Who? Yes, the same guy who gave up the historic homerun to the man that “isn’t here to talk about the past”. Garbage. I will now say that in French. Poubelle.

Defence: We, the newest darlings of Page Six are ripe for a run. We’ve been in command all year, Reyes and Wright are beginning to show what super-studs they’re becoming, Delgado gets his first crack at October, El Duque is the greatest starter in playoff history, and we’ve all seen what happens to Beltran this time of year. Why even bother playing the games?

Deliberation: Because games aren’t played on paper. Everyone and their dog are calling for a runaway Mets win. Everyone and their dog are wrong. No matter what anyone says, teams don’t recover from hearing that their ace is not only out for the playoffs, but is now out for six to eight months and possibly a career. Bottom line, it’ll take at least two or three days before they even realize that their heads are up their asses. Couple this with the fact that they haven’t played a meaningful game in about three months, and the underdog-ers will capitalize.

Verdict: LA in 5. The call that will make me look like either a genius or else a complete tit.

Special Recommendation to the Advisory Commission:

To anyone who calls themselves a baseball fan: if you don’t make it back from work in time on Thursday to catch Maddux vs. Glavine, do not bother returning home at all. Ever. The porch light is not on. There is no dinner waiting for you. Your bedsheets have not been turned down. You are now shunned.

Although neither is any longer in their primes, you CANNOT EVER miss the chance to see two Hall of Famers – ex-teammates, no less – face each other for one last kick at the can. I’m not promising that a Picasso and a Monet are going to be painted here, or even that both will even put up a decent game. But what if…..?

Just think about the best case scenario. Do you want to be that guy who missed it? Do you want to be that guy who gave away his ticket to Game 6 in 1975? Me neither.

This court is now in recess. We shall recommence by Oct. 10.”

- The Skip

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When I originally saw this in my inbox with a title reading "the docket", I already had an inkling as to what it may be. Confirmed of course when the sherrif knocked on my apartment door and handed me a letter opener. A brief delay in the imminent proceedings to make a run to Blenz for a cup of skamp and we're off to the races.

First off, on a creative note, a very enjoyable case summary. Plenty a gaffaw and chortle. Most notably the Detroit analysis, the Big Mac revisiting, and the summons to appear for the Maddux/Glavine showdown.

The evidence however presents a different picture in my camp. And may I remind you I have Harry Hamlin, John Laroquette and Reese Witherspoon on my legal team. Not to mention an ethereal Johhnny Cochrane chiming in over the radio at inopportune intervals spouting nonsense like, "If the batting glove doesn't fit...you must acquit!"

Our take:

St. Paddies Day. San Diego over the Red Birds in four. Meet the new Atlanta Braves of the National League, namely Tony LaRussa's sorry squad of crumpling Cards. A lock to make the post season almost every year and yet always an utter dissappointment. The only difference this year is that they started their inevitable collapse about a week ahead of schedual. They make Jenga look like a solid schematic for skyscraper construction. Their starters are out of gas and if they squeeze out one win at home that will be more than they deserve.

Contrast with:

The most UNDERRATED STORYLINE THIS OCTOBER. The one that reads something like, "A Cantankerous Old Vet Returns Home To End His Career By Securing His Squad's And Town's First World Series Championship. Ever."

How does David Wells not walk off into the sunset with a World Series Ring on one hand and a Subway Sandwich in the other? Even if he gets an achilles strain from running around the bush hunting elk, he will still show up for at least two innings and be dominant. This year's Kirk Gibson. And speaking of Gibson:

The Miracle Mets vs The Los Angeles Dodgers without Kirk Gibson, Tommy Lasorda or Fernando Valenzuela. As much as I hate them, how many other teams have the adjective "miracle" preceding their moniker? A handful. Pedro or no Pedro, this is the team to beat in the NL. Delgado is going to be the most crushing force to come out of New York, since the Fantastic Four's Thing. The Mets take it in four and go on to face Galactus in the NLCS.

"It's clobberin' time!!!"


(3)Twin Town vs (0)ak-Town. If the A's even get the lead for more than an inning in this series, I will be impressed.


The YES network vs. Damn Lucky Detroit. While the Tigers' heads are still collectively spinning from:
a. surviving a late Sepetmber scare.
b. relinquishing thier season long lead on the AL Central on the last day.
c. their first post-season appearance in 19 years (which was the result of another epic collapse that we will not speak of)...

The Yanks have been "tuning up" over the last week, going over their post season tackle box, deciding on appropriate lures and bait. This will not even be a contest. It will be like one of those games you play in little league where you travel farther north than you've ever travelled, where the treeline starts to get sparse, only to play a squad of 12 year olds that each stand at six feet, sport full moustaches and have been supporting their families by either stone picking in the grain fields or felling jack pine. Meanwhile your team goes home in tears, heads still thumping from the 27-0 drubbing you just took. With no ice cream.

The Yanks could quite possibly be the first team in ALDS history to wrap up a five game series in only two.

The next round. Things get really Uggla. Even moreso than the Thing.

Galactus