Opening Day - 4:30 p.m.

Just a few disjointed thoughts from an afternoon of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and unlimited baseball.

• Someone needs to explain to the Chicago Cubs that there are no provisions in the rules for Major League Baseball that involve covering point spreads or failing to blow out the opponents. They opened with a five-run first, gave up that lead, tacked on another seven runs and are letting the Reds creep back as I write this. Just have to make it interesting, don't they?
• If it is possible, I think Bartolo Colon is in worse shape than he has been in previous years. (Side note: It looks like no one was hurt, but Carl Everett just launched his bat into the crowd accidentally and did this over-the-top slapstick flinch/crouch/bite your nails bit like he was kicking it with Laurel and Hardy and saw the Mummy.)
• The rumor out of the Red Sox dugout before gametime was that a clubhouse attendant found Coco Crisp hiding in a corner after wetting himself over the prospect of replacing Johnny Damon in center field and as the lead off man. We're still working to confirm that team captain Jason Varitek immediately splashed water on his crotch and told the rest of the team, "Peeing your pants is the coolest!" while Crisp snuck off to change his pants.
• If at all possible, never keep the sound on for the Tampa Bay Devil Rays if their announcers are on for MLB Extra Innings. I'm not sure if it's a weekly contest to call games or what, but they are just as awful as they were last year.
• And finally, found this link of Deadspin.com today. It's a compilation of Rickey Henderson quotes and stories. As Frank the Tank said, "I think Rickey Henderson stories could be the 'Chuck Norris: The Facts' of baseball." I say they're better.

(Photo from the New No. 2)

The most wonderful day of the year

Originally uploaded by Minneapolis Red Sox.

I'll try to keep the over the top musings to a minimum... at least until after the first few games Monday.

I will say this, no other day brings so much promise than Opening Day. Thanks to 162 games and months and months of play, I can honestly say that every team that takes the field tomorrow has a chance to make the World Series.

Some chances are better than others and some teams' margin for error is so thing that a week of losses off the bat takes them out of the running, but when the teams take the field tomorrow afternoon and evening every fan can honestly say that their team has a shot at the pennant.

Enjoy that while it lasts, Kansas City.

Done and done

The Siberian Baseball full-league preview was finished today after a few weeks of work.

While it lacks factual basis or statistical support, it does have a lot of cheap shots at the league's easiest targets.

So, if you ever need to kill a few hours and the real Interweb sites crash, there's always this.

More redneck than NASCAR

In what Sgt. Slaughter calls his Daytona 500, Wrestlemania 22 will be in Chicago Sunday night. I can't begin to express how awesome an honor this is for the people of Chicago.

I'd like to think that they are trying to clear out trailer parks with tornado season around the corner, making sure that they are empty when the twisters hit, but Vince McMahon isn't returning my calls.

Nor am I placing them.

The Tribune is even getting into the act with another slide show production, this one showing off Triple H's shrunken old man / chicken chest (he's the hairy fellow on the right in the picture).

So, if while walking around this weekend you see a.) less teeth per capita than usual; b.) more black t-shirts with some variation of lighting, two-word slogans or foul language per capita than usual; or c.) orange camouflage; don't fear, it's not Big Ten Tournament week again, and they will all make their way back to Iowa on Monday.

(Side note one: This is one of those things that you see is on the way and so you look for tickets to find the thing is sold out and it baffles you. You can get seats to a heavyweight fight the day of, but not Wrestlemania? Weird.)

(Side note two: My roommates and I caught a Wrestlemania at a bar one year and had probably the best time we've ever had paying a cover charge to watch television. My favorite part was by the end of the night a friend of ours was jumping out of her chair and yelling at the TV after not giving a damn about what happened when she was walking in. This is the power of a spandex bananna hammock.)

(Photo from WWE.com)

Inappropriate, uncalled for and are you kidding me?

The new El line is the Pink Line? How the hell did that happen?

As if the Brown Line wasn't enough of a punchline for dirty jokes, now we have this? I guess this is the price you pay when you let grammar school kids pick the color for the new line.

On top of that, have the CTA Board members never been outside of Evanston or a tea party? Aside from being the wussiest of all colors, how many signs are they going to need to replace for this? Are you telling me that any drunken college aged male isn't going to steal Pink Line maps for their dorm room?

Finally, has anyone thought of the impact on the rental market? What self-respecting woman is going to want to include the words "take the Pink to my place" when giving directions to her apartment? You know, other than whores.

Don't miss it, it'll only happen once

As part of the volunteering I'm doing at the Humane Society, there's a little side room where we log our hours and hang coats, etc. The other week, I saw a note about how they needed help with dog training classes we offer to the public.

For the record, this isn't the sexiest job at the shelter. That falls to adoption preparation for the skittish and fearful dogs who come in. Basically, before we'll put a dog out for adoption they need to pass a few tests to make sure they're sound physically and mentally. Some just need more time around people to be OK with all of that and thats where Ad Prep comes in.

That's not to say that they're snarling, angry dogs - it's really shocking how far you need a to push a normal dog to make it dangerous. Most dogs will hide or keep a low profile in the face of abuse, instead of fighting back.

However, once those dogs are brought along, they still need work and that's where some of the specialized classes come in. Sandwiched in between puppy kindergarten and an open play hour (to help socialize the puppies) is the "Wallflower Class."

There are four dogs there, with a cavalier graduating tonight. Coming back next week will be a collie, a hound mix and a golden retriever, all of which are pretty shy, but very gentle. The idea is to stay as low as you can, keep your voice up with a higher pitch and avoid all the other dominant postures that would terrify these dogs. Honestly, my being there could throw the newest dog into a funk because there'd been a new person introduced into this safe space.

It's pretty cool to see these four owners who take the time every week to bring their dogs in, whisper, cajole and praise every little baby step they take and put up with all of the quirks that aren't so cute on a daily basis, I bet. It's a little family, where everyone shares treats, knows each other by name and tries to do the best they can to help each other and their dogs out.

For anyone who puts stock in the idea of karma, it's nice to see just as much love and attention being put back into these dogs as was taken to put them in this position in the first place.

Aside from the cavalier, Sugar, the collie is next on the list to move on. She still needs a lot of work, is a little blind and is in the process of learning to be a dog again as she's another production dog from a puppy mill who never learned normal dog behavior.

At the end of class, the dogs are unleashed to hang out and roam from person to person, picking up treats and occasionally hanging out with each other. Rumor has it that "ringer dogs" are usually on hand to come in and run and play and basically act like dogs to get the others to forget to be so afraid.

Tonight, they were on their own and just milled about, sniffing and snacking and making the rounds. Sugar came over and took a few bits of ham and toast from my hand and kept moving along. According to her owner, I'm the first true stranger she's wagged her tail for (and this is because of nothing I'd done, just that she was taking a huge step tonight). This was a very big deal, but it's pretty counter-productive to make a big show of this with a quiet dog.

I can easily say that those three wags were the coolest things I've seen in five months of being stuck here.

Quick programming note

Tonight MTV is scheduled to run a very special True Life episode, this time focusing on reality television washouts. Just when I thought last week's episode on competitive eaters (more on this later) couldn't be topped, I was greeted by Real World and Survivor has-beens being followed around by camera crews as the whore themselves to bar crowds and judge wet t-shirt contests.

(And for the record, I love True Life anyways. They find three chowderheads who want breast implants and follow them around as one gets daddy to pay for them, one takes out a huge loan and drives to get her new cans in a rusted out 1978 Corolla and one has to go the bargain surgeon route. Good times. Then, the next days as they're doped up and crying and in agony, they keep the cameras there as the boyfriends stop by in their sleeveless No Fear t-shirts and try to tell the gals that they look hot.)

Awesome.

When I lived in the hip part of town in Chicago, we used to see ads popping up for guest appearances by reality TV folks and wonder why. We chalked it up to the fact that Real World: Chicago had recently wrapped and they were cashing in on that.

Quite the oposite, it's an exploding field of reality TV exploitation, with agencies taking over whole stables of roommates and pimping them to bars and colleges to talk about drinking and STDs before they go out to drink and spread STDs... awesome.

Anyways, more after this airs, but if the programming notes are correct, it'll be on tonight at 9 p.m. CST. Check local listings.

Enjoy.

Here we go again...

The Virgin Mary is back, this time in Moline.

If you needed any further proof that it's probably not the Virgin Mary, well, that first sentence probably sums it all up for you.

Yeah, because appearing under a bridge wasn't bad enough, she chose to do it under a bridge in a town so shitty that migrating birds avoid flying over it as they flee the icy grip of winter's deadly hand. Ummmm... yeah...

"Me, I was overwhelmed," Celia Medina said. "Out of any place in the world to come, she'd come to the Quad Cities."

The article does not extrapolate on the severity of Medina's current or prior head injuries, but from all of us here at Siberia, Minn., Inc., we wish her the best of luck. And for the record, no one has ever ended up in Moline on purpose.

Yes sir, no ma'am, F@%k you

Half the reason for this is to test the YouTube.com player on the blog.

The other half is that it's really, really funny. For the record, it's a Best Of Uneccesary Censorship from the Jimmy Kimmel Live show.

The quest for fire, film at 11

Chronically Disconnected Insane in the Suburban Membrane had this yesterday about how it really is newsworthy when someone in Minnesota shows scrap of common sense.

Nowhere was this more apparent than in downtown Minneapolis this weekend when the light rail smashed up an SUV (no word on whether the driver spilled his coffee or if his cell call was dropped) and it was the big news.

I mean, hell, people are pushed in front of the El and the story is about how the morning commute was jacked up for 45 minutes. That is comforting to me in the same way fire trucks and traffic help me sleep at night.

Throughout the evening as they were hyping the evening news during the basketball games, they kept mentioning how the light rail passengers were confused and frightened as they were stuck on the light rail tracks.

I can see any number of adjectives to describe the passengers on the overhyped airport tram that passes as public transportation here. For example, concerned, upset, annoyed, amused or late for dinner with the wife. But confused? Shouldn't that have fallen to the wayside after you heard the SUV crunch up and someone explained that you hit something?

I can only imagine the police on the scene to take statements from a carload of unfrozen cavemen witnesses.

"I am but a simple caveman, unthawed by your scientists and set free to roam your modern world. The things here frighten me from this magic beast that takes me from your 'mall' to your 'random stop somewhere downtown.' Though I am but a simple caveman, it baffles me how civic planning and public transportation in such a large town could suck so badly."
The funny thing is that police were needed elsewhere in this bustling metropolis to free this dumbass kid from one of those toy crane machines.

Watch the video feed, the older brother is priceless and may be smarter than your average housecat. Maybe.

Mom is on record as saying that the pizza joint should childproof the machine, but my vote is to knucklehead proof her strange little kid. Seriously, hiding in there and the TV station's camera bag? Can we get him tested for agorophobia?

Check the video and pray for a nuclear accident in Minnesota to thin the ranks of the massing dumbass armies that have chosen this state to call home. While you're at it, parlay that prayer for blowback into Wisconsin and the Dakotas. They're not much better.

(For the record, this photo isn't Photoshopped (This one isn't, either). Also, they let the kid go, despite my urging that it was for the best that he be left in there until he learns or, you know, uh... dies?.)

(Photo from pandasthumb.org / startribune.com)

Lou Dobbs is a jackass

I'm watching the protests in Los Angeles today and hoo boy, is it getting Lou Dobbs' goat.

He's not happy with the students, with the fact that they're waving Mexican flags or that there are St. Patrick's Day celebrations in the United States.

What a grumpy old coot.

In an interview with National Council of La Raza President, Janet Murguia, he was at his crabby best, making little sense and offering nothing in the way of a constructive aguement.

As Murgia is trying to make a point about conservative southern lawmakers finding guest visas as appealing alternatives, Dobbs called them "wrongheaded."

Then, when he pressed her as to why she was even mentioning that, she said it was to show that even conservatives are getting behind the ideas.

"They're wrongheaded at both ends," he said before accusing the Democrats of grubbing for votes and the Republicans for advocating cheap, unskilled labor. Instead of trotting out constructive counterpoints (such as the newest crop of unskilled, illegal workers take the jobs of last year's unskilled, illegal workers) Dobbs was content to call people "wrongheaded." Repeatedly. They cut to commercial before anyone was branded a doody-head.

Nothing quite beats a CNN anchor pouting like a kindergartner on national television. Eh, still better than Fox News.

The other highlight was the mayor's address to the students in California. Everyone is cheering and waving flags and the mayor scores points for telling them that he signed a formal proclaimation that asks the feds to reconsider the recent moves. Yaaaaaaay!

...Oh, and thanks for the interest you've shown kids, but can you go back to school now? Boooooo!

Who says the 60s have the market cornered on youth involvement in politics?

(Photos from CNN.com / NCLR.org)

I hear the Land O Lakes chick is lactose intolerant

I was messing around earlier today and saw a quick hit on how John Kerry is a little princess and now his travel preferences have been made public on the Smoking Gun's site.

Not a big deal, touring acts have all sorts of crazy shit in their riders, but look in the middle of the first page. It's even boxed out for emphasis.

"NEVER order: Tomato-based products or sandwiches."

From the guy who married a ketchup heiress.

No tomatoes or tomato-based foods...

This is either very funny or a warning to throw out all the spaghetti sauce in my cupboard because Soilent Red... is people!

Seriously, though - is this to protect him from accidentally putting Hunt's on his hot dog or something? Or is this a major problem in the Kerry household?

John: It's nothing personal, Teresa, I'm just not a fan of tomatoes. I never have been.
Teresa: You're a fan when they're paying for this house. You're a fan when they buy your new Yukon. Tomatoes are just fine then, aren't they?
John: I knew I should have married Susan French... Mustard people are much less judgemental, you harpy.

(Photo from Wikipedia.com)

The Chicago White Sox, your 2005... aww, fuck it

Cue the collective outcry of White Sox fans in 3... 2... 1... Waaaaah! There we go.

A mere six months after winning it all, the disrespect begins anew. I guess this is just karma. I think that White Sox fans have enjoyed this title less than any other fan base in the past 20 years. Things are a little less rosy when they all filter through the prism of White Sox fan's inferiority complex.

While I'd like to give them the benefit of the doubt, I'd bet dollars to dougnuts that most of their fans see the Cubs on the front page of ESPN.com and don't think, "OK, breathe... We just won a World Series. That's enough for me..." but rather, "Crap. Here we go again..."

Honestly, I'm getting a really sick charge out of shit like this. Now that the shock and damage has worn off and dulled I'm pretty untouchable on this. I've been as ill as I can be and I know this is exactly the kind of thing that drives White Sox fans batshit.

The first set of stories from ESPN.com on the upcoming season - previews, team caps, etc. - has four on the Cubs, one on the Sox (a locked down column by Peter Gammons). This couldn't please me more.

They even ran this nice, big picture on the front page - that was sweet of them, wasn't it?

I have to admit that even moreso than in other years, I'm praying for a Cubs World Series this season. Following Boston and Chicago in back to back years, it doesn't seem as far-fetched as it might have five years ago (and makes even more sense if you buy into the conspiracy theories about MLB). See, the thing is that the worst thing that could happen to the White Sox and their fans would be a Cubs World Series win this year.

(Note: I don't think the Cubs will even make the playoffs this year, much less win, but who would have picked the White Sox last year?)

Here's the thing about the World Series last year - it goes away if the Cubs win this year. It becomes a footnote to history when bookended by the Red Sox and Cubs winning. Hell, even if the Cubs make the playoffs in the next five years, then the White Sox fade. It is stupid and petty and indicative of my hatred of the White Sox and their fans, but I'd love to see this.

Imagine a world 20 years from now as White Sox fans fume at cocktail parties as people recount those few crazy years in baseball when Boston won and then the Cubs won like a year or two later and it takes about 30 seconds before they have to scream, "The White Sox! It was the White Sox that won a year after Boston! The White Sox!"

Even if there's literally next to no chance of the Cubs making the postseason, God, it makes my week just thinking about the possibility of this. Seriously, check out my nipples - you could cut glass with them.

(Photo from ESPN.com)

Six shining moments

I'll admit it - I'm not a college basketball superfan. I'll watch a game or two here and there and then lock in for the conference tournaments in the last week leading into the NCAA Tourney. That's about it. It used to be different, but now that's about the extent of my attention span.

It's a sad state of affairs.

One thing that hasn't changed is my love of the first week of the tournament. It's funny, the first year I'm not working full-time in nearly a decade and the NCAA has live game feeds on the Interweb. The bastards.

Nothing is more fun than bracket time. I can't remember much from oh, say 1996 to 2001-ish, but I remember a surprising amount of hoop. Go figure, huh?

From upsets of Kansas (a running tradition) to strong showings by Old Dirty University (at Goldie's where the PBR is always a buck a pint) I remember a lot more of those games than other things. So, when I sat down today to actually focus on the games, it was nice. No bars, no distractions, just me and the dog eating peanuts and Milkbones.

Here were the high points:

Pregame: One of UConn's forwards (I think) is going on and on about his philosophy in life and how college basketball is cool and all, but he's really concerned about his daughter and raising her right... Awwww...

So, when did the whole high school baby thing become OK with the Bible Belt? I mean, I'm happy we've reached this point where unwed parents aren't run out of town and told never to return, but the whiners from the Red States need a liaison or something to inform the rest of us of what they're going to object to.

I mean, nipples on TV isn't cool, but multiple kids fathered by college players is now after 20 years of that being taboo? It's confusing - we need a State of the Red States Address every year. What's Jeff Foxworthy doing these days?

Postgame - LSU: Glen "Big Baby" Davis is on CBS after his game with a teammate. Afterwards, he thanks God, who apparently never gave up on Louisiana State University. God was unavailable for comment, as he sat sobbing with joy in the stands, his tears smudging the tiger print painted on his face and repeatedly whispering, "We're going to Indy... we're going to Indy..."

"We're still not satisfied yet," says Davis on national television. "We've got tapeworms in our belly."

I'm at a loss for words, but I'd be more inclined to believe him if the didn't look like Tony Siragusa's stand in.

Between games: Peyton Manning is on TV welcoming the NCAA audience to visit Indianapolis, home of the Final Four. The more I hear Bill Simmons pitching it, the more I agree. These types of events should all be held in Las Vegas. Build a football stadium and a basketball court and hold those events there. For pretty much any event that has mandated a neutral site, hold it in Vegas. This makes more sense than anyone will admit.

So, Manning or a fairly lifelike puppet of Manning, mails in his greeting, stiltedly telling the audience, "Can't wait to see some basketball... ... ... In Indy." All monotone, odd timing, and it looks like someone has a gun pointed at him from off camera.

Something tells me the Colts had to call Manning a few weeks ago and tell him he needed to do this.

Colts: Yeah, CBS is really busting our stones over this. It's part of their NFL deal and they can pretty much make us do at least five of these things in the offseason.
Manning: What? Really? Are you serious, man? Damn. I need to take the vacuum in to get fixed and the dog needs to get to the groomer on Tuesday...
Colts: Yeah, we know, thanks for this it means a lot to the organization... OK, gotta go, bye!
Manning: Wait! Hold on... hello? Hello? Shit.


Halftime of the UCLA-Memphis game: Davis is shown cutting down the nets wearing a yellow boa (see photo). I swear that for a split second he looks like Star Jones and he crawls up the ladder. I wish that I could find that shot here. It was John Goodman as Linda Tripp all over again.

Middle of the UCLA - Memphis second half: If the announcers are going to insist on calling tall players "Long players" can they at least refrain from doing this within 15 seconds of promos for The Unit? Some of us will never be mature enough to handle the words "long unit" without giggling and most of us are watching sports on the weekend.

Overtime - How I Met Your Mother: Two stellar lines tonight:

"How much did I drink? How did I sprain my ankle? Who is this girl in my bed?" If you've never gotten out of bed to discover that you've sprained an ankle, broken a foot or toe of driven a nail into your thigh... Thank your lucky stars. I swear that the best way to wrench an ankle is to put all your weight on one you twisted the night before... then forgot about it when you woke up.

For anyone who has done this, you know I'm on the right track when I say you could sell giant stickers that have warnings about putting your weight on your foot that you'd stick onto your leg the night before and hope you'd see it when you woke up. It'd be like printing money.

And finally:

"Hey, how easy do you think think it'd be to, like, sneak into the zoo? I have to see some penguins, like, right now." Your honor... mistakes were made.

(Photos from: NCAA.org / Gamespy.com)

Reminds me of college in a lot of ways...

I'm e-mailing with a good friend today and we're going back and forth about being run down and Ike Turner-ed by life. While I sympathize with him, I will be as happy as anyone that the weekend is here, not that it really matters because I only really do eight hours of volunteer "work" a week these days.

Enjoy (allowances have been made for the sake of grammar and overall clarity) -

Tuesday I'm at the shelter and if you've never had the pleasure, puppy shit is the worst. Just unmistakeable, gross, stinking shit. Worse that full-grown
shit, even the Katrina dogs with worms smelled better. Yeah. So, I get to clean this up for free because otherwise the dogs cover themselves in shit and piss and that sucks because they aren't as adoptable caked in their own feces. Go figure.

I go into squeegee out a kennel and this puppy is really happy to see me and comes crashing over, because he's a dumb lab and that's what dumb labs do. Where do his canoe paddle paws land? Right in the puddle of piss in the kennel, splashing up and hitting me in the eye.

While this is unfortunate, it's not like you can just up and leave in the middle of your shift over it. You just get a bit grossed out for a minute and go back to cleaning up the kennel. The strange thing is that I wasn't the least bit flustered - I think I wiped it off on my sleeve, thought "Well, damn..." and concentrated on where the dog was headed next.

There is no way to adequately convey the level of acceptance that the world is kicking you around and humping your anus than when you get dog urine in your eye, you receive no compensation for such misfortunes and there isn't a damn thing you can do about it.