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Friday, October 15, 2004

Whew, I'm back

The playoffs are completely ho-hum, with a small amount of excitement coming from watching the current Astros manager, Phil Garner, prove to everyone that he is totally fucking incompetent, and should be fired post haste. The Yankees/Red Sox telecasts are so completely Yankee's biased, that they are anathema to the game of baseball, and FOX should be ashamed of itself. Jon Leiber is not a better pitcher than Pedro Martinez, in any cosmic dimension, and redneck piece of shit Tim McCarver should be ashamed of himself with his absolutely racist hate of Pedro. McCarver's despising of Pedro for flipping that bald old man on his ass in last year's playoffs can only compare to the number of times McCarver probably called Willie Mays a "coon" while he was whispering behind him as the catcher for the Cardinals in the 1960s. Everyone knows Pedro was perfectly correct in defending himself against Zimmer, everyone that is except the former Yankees' color man, Tim McCarver. Tim, go fuck yourself.

The other Dodger blogs have done a trememdous send off of the Dodger season, with recalled great moments, and analysis for the future. I was going to do one myself, then I realized that my spotty analysis would be a joke, so I gave up before even starting.

Needless to say, I think we need another outfielder. Werth, Bradley, and Green look fantastic on paper. The problem is Werth and Bradley are injury prone, and there's no doubt on my mind that neither will be able to play more than 140 games out there. Should we re-sign Finley? It's too risky. At age 40 he could collapse at any moment, ala Fred McGriff. Beltran's too expensive, but the Dodgers should make some kind of committment to getting a decent outfielder with an over 800 OPS and 20 homer potential.

And what about the Lakers? I haven't talked about them in months. Ray Allen's remarks on the Lakers are spot on, considering that he is on a similar team, where the offense is built around one guard. Kobe will undoubtedly average 35 points a game this season, and to get those numbers will demand the ball 95 percent of the time, the five percent when he is playing grabass in the lockerroom. If anyone thinks Lamar Odom will be able to pick up the slack, they live in a fantasy world. We have no center, and basically no one who has any ability to shoot. The recent Sonics pre season game will be a harbinger of things to come, with Kobe playing magnificiently, and the Lakers losing. I will be shocked if this team makes the playoffs, and I am predicting right here, right now, that we will not advance beyond the first round if we do. Expect the Dodgers to become LA's biggest franchise in two years. Thanks Kobe.

Sunday, October 10, 2004

And They're Done

Like the selfish prick I am, I'm glad in a way the Dodgers are done for the year, because now I can concentrate on not flunking out of school. Updates on this blog will slow to a crawl, and I can get back to what I do best: sleeping and having enormous bowel movements.

Ok I'm not glad. This year was devastating. It was hard to watch. It was a season with considerably more hope for success than almost a decade of previous seasons. But there are kernels of hope for the future.

The Dodgers are going to dominate the NL West for years to come. We know what players are good enough to fill roles now, and we can pay those players relatively low salaries. Even if we lose Beltre to a team like the Red Sox, I am confident we will find a way to make up for that.

I have decided not to kill myself yet. That will come when we lose the 2005 NLCS to the Giants in game 7 with a Barry Bonds walk off homerun. Then I will promptly blow my brains out. But not now. Now we have a team that has outdone itself. We have a team I predicted would win the west. We have a team that is like a Doberman puppy that you are training. At this point it's shown it's capable of growling, and being menacing. But it still shits indoors. We'll work on that, and eventually, create a complete thing.

I need a break, and I'll be back in a few days.

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