All square

Just like that, everything has changed. Thank the San Diego Padres inopportune swoon for that. Instead of being forced to chase, the Phillies do not have to win a certain number of games in the final six to make it to the playoffs for the first time since 1993. Actually, all the Phillies have to do is be better than the Padres... Unless, of course, the Phillies lose the series to the Braves. Then they will have to be better than the Padres, Braves and Rockies.

Nevertheless, the whole convoluted mess is rendered moot as long as the Phillies just do one simple thing:

Win.

More later from the ballpark.

Down the stretch they come

WASHINGTON – The Mets had the Heimlich performed last weekend in Florida, just in time to return home to Shea Stadium to host the hapless Nationals for three games. With a 2½ game lead over the Phillies heading into the final week of the season, the Mets have all but wrapped up the NL East. Based on the numbers from Sports Club Stats, the Mets have a 95.7 percent chance to make it to the playoffs. Only a monumental collapse against the Nats, Cards and Marlins can stop them now.

But for the Phillies, it has come down to the last six games. At worst – minimally – the Phillies can go 4-2. But that number comes without taking the Padres’ results into consideration. By going 4-2, the Phillies would force a one-game playoff in San Diego if the Padres limp home at 4-3. And based on last weekend’s showing against Colorado, it’s possible that Padres could be hitting a bad slump at the wrong time.

Still, there is one gnarly-looking monkey wrench that could be thrown in the middle of all of this:

The Atlanta Braves are coming to town.

Here’s a prediction – the Phillies will sweep the Nationals at the Bank in the final series of the season this weekend. Washington is a tired team, with a spent pitching staff and has nothing at stake when they face the Mets and Phillies this week. The team has its bags packed; lockers cleaned out of the ready-to decay RFK Stadium, and are focused on vacations and chilaxin’ while the playoffs rage. Sure, there’s professional pride and all of that stuff (manager Charlie Manuel was quite laudatory to Nats’ skipper Manny Acta for putting his best players out there last weekend), but tired is tired. The Nats look ready for a break.

So that leaves the Braves, who are clinging to the ledge of the playoff race by their fingernails. Standing three games behind the Phillies, the Braves could climb back in the chase with a sweep and some cooperation from the Padres (and Rockies). Most of all, though, the Braves will be happy to knock out the Phillies from contention. With aces Tim Hudson and John Smoltz scheduled to pitch the first two games of the series, the Braves are not coming to town just to play out the string.

Come on, just one more … In just his second start in the last 37 days and first since a three-inning, 65-pitch battle in St. Louis, lefty Cole Hamels looked pretty sharp yesterday’s outing at RFK. In five innings, Hamels allowed just two hits and a pair of walks with six strikeouts. Best of all, Hamels’ fastball looked to have a lot of zip (yeah, zip) on it, which always comes in handy for a guy whose best pitch is a changeup.

But Manuel yanked Hamels out of the game after just five innings because he had thrown 76 pitches. The skipper did this even though Hamels retired the last eight hitters he faced and didn’t seem to be taxing himself all that much in working through his last three innings.

Could Hamels have pitched into the sixth without overextending himself?

Sure, he said... But then again, Hamels acknowledged that he doesn’t exactly have the best history with injuries.

“It's a little difficult to say when they don't let me know what my pitch count is,” Hamels told the writers. “That would be nice. I know my body better than anybody else. I guess that's the whole point in asking. But I think it takes that experience to have the say-so. I think it would be easier for Jamie Moyer to say, 'No, I'm going to go back out there,' than myself.”

Manuel was in one of those damned-if-you-do/damned-if-you-don’t, second-guessing situations that has pretty much defined his three seasons in Philadelphia . But, Manuel explained, Hamels has to be treated very gingerly for the time being.

“Cole is still on a rehab, of course,” Manuel said. “We would have loved to leave him in there.”

So it just figured that as soon as Hamels exited the game, reliever Antonio Alfonseca came in during the sixth and gave the Nats the lead they would never relinquish.

Revisiting Eddie We were even more busy than usual last Thursday when the news of ex-Phillies GM Ed Wade had taken over the same post with the Houston Astros. During an eight-year run that was marked by rebuilding and underachieving, Wade became “a lightning rod for the negativity” at the end of his time with the Phillies.

So when I first heard the news broadcasted over the car radio, I nearly had to pull over so that I could properly decipher the announcement.

Instead, I drove on.

That initial start gave way to rational thought. Of course Ed Wade was going to get another job as a Major League general manager. Why wouldn’t he? Wade is a good “baseball man,” who has given his professional life to the game. He has also worked at just about every job there is in Major League ball, and is generally well-liked all across the profession.

So why wouldn’t he land in another GM position? Guys like Ed Wade always land on their feet, except, of course, when they don’t.

Anyway, Jim Salisbury’s column on Wade in Sunday’s Inquirer was very interesting. You should read it.

End of the road

WASHINGTON – So far this weekend’s trip to The District has been pretty eventful for everyone in the Phillies’ travelling party. A few of the players were given a private tour of the White House and were even granted an audience with the President in the Oval Office. Another got to show off his superhero poses, while a few teammates were given the chance to show off a softer, more feminine side in formal evening wear.

But the best part of the last road trip of the season that ends tomorrow with the final Major League Baseball game at RFK Stadium hasn’t been the quiet time spent away from media mass at Citizens Bank Park, nor the special perks granted to the gentry athlete class.

Instead, the Phillies have simply taken pride in their work.

“Nothing beats winning,” manager Charlie Manuel.

That certainly has been the case for the Phillies, who enter Sunday’s game with an 8-1 record during the 10-game road trip. Actually, it has been on this trip that the Phillies went from sitting on the edge of oblivion, to a team with an incredibly legitimate chance at winning the division OR the wild card.

To think, when the Phillies left for New York after the victory over the Rockies on Sept. 13 they were a distant 6½ games behind the Mets in the NL East. But when the team returns home to host the Braves on Tuesday night, they very well could be tied for first place.

Then again, in a worst-case scenario, they could be four games back, too.

The District As far as northeastern cities go, Washington, D.C. provides the perfect urban experience. The city has an extensive public transportation system, an incredible system of trails and parks for the recreationally and fitness inclined, every type of cuisine or entertainment offering imaginable, and of course, all of those free museums

Yes, Washington, D.C. has culture coming out the wazoo.

Need an example of how D.C. is unique? Check this out:

During Friday morning’s run I meandered through the Northwest quadrant of the city’s confusing grid, passing by such notable places as JFK’s last residence before he was elected president, Bob Woodward’s towering Q Street crib and, of course, the childhood home of the legendary iconoclast, Ian MacKaye, until I filtered back toward the Key Bridge and the C&O Canal Tow Path. This part of the run took nearly 30-minutes at a modest clip where I made sure I ran hard up the inclines on Q Street and Observation Place. After all, D.C. was built on top of a swamp, which (I assume) are relatively flat. So when one arrives at the base of a hill during a run, they should take it with some pace.

Anyway, I hit the tow path, which is the ultimate urban biking/running trail in these United States. Instead of a modest nine-mile loop around the Schuylkill River like Philly’s Kelly Drive, the C&O goes from the Key Bridge (just off Georgetown’s main thoroughfare) through the western edge of the city along the Potomac River, into the Maryland suburbs and onto the countryside for nearly 200 miles.

One runner, named Scott Douglas, ran the entire trail during a seven-day stretch.

ANYWAY, the towpath…

Needless to say I wasn’t about to run the length of the entire path. After all, the weather in D.C. has been hot and sticky and the main reason I wanted to run on the riverside, tree-shrouded trail was to get out of the sun. Besides, if I bake beneath those ultraviolet rays any more than I already do, I’m going to have the complexion of George Hamilton.

C’mon, who wants to dress in a tuxedo all the time even if it does give Georgie’s epidermis the hue of rich, Corinthian leather?

The plan was to run for 13 miles, which takes about 86-to-90 minutes. Or, if I felt good I would run for an hour and then weave my way back through Georgetown. But I didn’t feel good because it was hot, and, truth be told, since the birth of our son, I have only been able to run about 70 to 80 miles per week. My fitness level is a little lacking these days, so 90 minutes in the heat and humidity would be fine enough.

And it was. On the way up the trail I enjoyed the shade, the sweeping river views into Northern Virginia and the quietness of the day where the only audible noise was the cadence of my feet pounding on the hard, packed dirt. I just couldn’t believe that I was in Washington, D.C.

But as the run progressed I really could not believe that I was in one of the biggest cities in the country.

At first glance I thought it was a dog...

After getting good and tired and deciding that approximately four miles on the trail was plenty, I made a u-turn and retraced my steps. I also decided to ease off a bit after doing half-mile intervals at lactate threshold pace. However, upon noticing some hikers and what I thought was some type of amber-colored dog, I figured I could put on the pace one more time before knocking off and cruising in to the finish.

It was hot, though. I was also thirsty and the combination of the heat and dehydration narrowed the focus of my vision causing me to weave ever-so slightly on the path as I attempted to run down the hikers.

That’s when I brushed up against what I originally thought was a dog… only it was a white-tailed deer.

Yeah, that’s right. A white-tailed deer. I rubbed shoulders -- quite literally -- with a freaking white-tailed deer a little more than a mile from M St. You know, where the Barnes & Noble, Banana Republic, Dean & Deluca and Starbucks are mixed in amongst all of those tourist-trap bars and restaurants. In Washington, D.C. ...

A white-tailed freaking deer.

Needless to say, my brush with Bambi straightened me right the hell up. For the next half mile I ran as hard as the heat and my legs would allow for fear that I somehow angered the deer and he was hot on my rear in attempt to chase me down and give me a beating like that scene in Tommy Boy.

As if I could out-run a deer…

Anyway, I suppose robo-deer remained in the brush to munch on some leaves and shrubs while I settled down, finally eased up on the pace, and cruised on toward the end of the path. But there, again, in the last copse of woods before nature gave way to the giant cylinders of concrete that supported the bridge and menaced the landscape as cars sped to and from Northern Virginia, another white-tailed deer stood as it picked away at the brush from the left side of the trail. This one was even closer to all of the action of G’town, yet really didn't seem to mind when the walkers, runners and bike riders passed by just inches away.

Perhaps this proved that political animals are not the only species that inhabit Washington.

Though the deer might be less frightening.

Anyway, that’s some of the highlights from the trip. We’ll have more from the equally deer-laden tranquility of The Lanc tomorrow.

Friday pre-game fodder

WASHINGTON – Despite what the schedule reads, there is a lot of baseball remaining in the 2007 season for the Phillies. These final eight games of the year will undoubtedly feel like an eternity. Actually, the defining moment of the year will probably occur between now and Sept. 30. But before Friday night’s game against the Washington Nationals at RFK Stadium, manager Charlie Manuel took the time to reflect on the season so far.

“Basically what we’ve done this year is survive,” the skipper said.

“We have some of the best players in baseball, but we’ve had to fight to survive.”

With just nine games to go the Phillies have done much more than just survive. Despite a bevy of injuries to seemingly every player on the roster, including disabled-list stints for Brett Myers, Ryan Howard, Chase Utley and Cole Hamels, the Phillies entered Friday’s game just 1½ games behind the New York Mets for first place in the NL East. And if a run at the division title doesn’t work out, there is always the wild-card race in which the Phillies find themselves 2½ games behind the San Diego Padres.

Needless to say, the Phillies are really into the action around the league right now. In fact, after Thursday night’s come-from-behind victory over the Nats, the Phillies rushed back to the cozy visitors’ clubhouse at RFK to gather around the television set and watch the end of the Mets-Marlins action from Miami. Pat Burrell and Aaron Rowand helped rearrange the furniture in the tiny room so the entire team could get unobstructed views.

For a night, the visitors’ clubhouse at RFK Stadium was the best little sports bar in The District of Columbia. When Dan Uggla’s 10th inning hit won it for the Marlins, the clubhouse suddenly morphed into a scene right out of Animal House.

Manuel loved it.

“What was cool was that I didn't see anybody who wasn't interested,” Manuel said. “I've been around a long time, and sometimes there are guys who just don’t give damn about it. They'd get dressed and get the hell out of there. I wonder about that sometimes. (But) last night, everybody we had was around the TV.”

The Phillies were back around the TV set before Friday’s game, too. This time, instead of the matinee action from around the league, a dozen players or so were paying rapt attention to a DVD of Ken Burns’ documentary, Baseball. When the film came to the part in which the legendary Buck O’Neil described the sound of the ball crashing off the bat of Babe Ruth, Josh Gibson and Bo Jackson – a sound O’Neil says he never heard from any other player – shortstop Jimmy Rollins recited the lines in sync with O’Neil.

Then Rollins ad libbed some of his own lines.

“Buck didn’t live long enough to hear Ryan Howard,” Rollins stated. “Ryan has that sound, too.”

A few teammates nodded in agreement.

Clearly the Phillies want to make a little noise of their own during the final week of the season. Desperate to hear the sweet symphony of baseball in October seems much more apt.

“I just want to get in (to the playoffs),” Manuel said. “I've been here three years in a row. It seems like we just left here and here we are again. We have to cross that line. We had to fight and claw. I don't know what else to do.”

Win. Just win.

The ‘pen is mighty It’s interesting to note that the Phils are making their sprint for the finish line with big contributions as of late from a rejuvenated bullpen. Maligned for the entire season as being the team’s Achilles heel, the Phillies’ relieving corps has bailed out the starters after short outings in two of the last three games.

To follow up Tuesday’s 14-inning victory in which the relievers tossed 11 frames one-run ball, the ‘pen went seven scoreless innings last night against the Nats. Of course the memory of Monday night’s near debacle where the relievers almost coughed up an 11-run lead, but since then they have been pretty good. In the last three games the bullpen has allowed just two runs in 21 2/3 innings.

“Like last night, our starter (Kyle Lohse) goes two and they don't score off a bullpen that can give up runs,” Manuel said. “At times, it seems like we can't stop anybody and then we'll do pretty good.”

Truth be told, Manuel admits he is a little surprised by work out of the ‘pen.

“I’m surprised,” he said. “If you look at it based on the way we’ve played all year, winning six of seven has been hard for us. In order to (go on a winning streak) you have to be consistent, and sometimes we haven’t been consistent.”

Nevertheless, 21 2/3 innings is a lot of work in just three games – especially at this point of the season. Aside from a complete game from a starting pitcher, Manuel acknowledges that he will have to use other relievers in addition to his core group of go-to guys in Myers, Tom Gordon and J.C. Romero.

“We’re going to get into position where we’ll have to use guys like (Geoff) Geary and (J.D.) Durbin,” Manuel said.

Hail to the Chiefs A handful of Phillies were granted a special audience with President George W. Bush as well as a private tour of the White House on Friday morning.

Utley, Howard, Burrell, Hamels, Myers, Rollins, Manuel and director of team travel and clubhouse services Frank Coppenbarger met the President in the Oval Office before their special tour of the most famous residence on the earth.

“It's not as private as you would expect it to be,” Utley said. “There's a lot of people running around.”

Mostly, though, the players were awed by meeting the President and seeing the White House up close and personal.

“He knew who we were,” Utley said. “He seemed pretty informed about what was going on (in baseball).”

Said Hamels: “We didn't joke around. It's a situation that you just find yourself in awe of. (President Bush) appeared to be a normal guy… well, as normal as you can expect. He was really busy and that's a good thing. It's good to know the President is a very busy guy.”

Someone cue Tom Petty

WASHINGTON – the first thing I thought of as I pushed myself out of bed this morning was, “OK, where do I get coffee?” The second thought was, “Look, there’s the Starbucks. Could a place that sells Gatorade be nearby?”

After that I wondered if Courier Post columnist Kevin Roberts had made it back to Philadelphia OK. Kevin, you see, came to The District last night to write all about the Phillies’ comeback victory over the Nationals, which pushed them to 1½ games of the lead in the NL East. After going down to the clubhouse to discuss matters with the winning team and then back to the press box to compose his story, Kevin was scheduled to take the 3 a.m. train from Union Station back to Philadelphia. And since he wrapped things up a little after midnight, a few of us thought we’d take Kev into town to help him wile away the time until his train arrived.

Who would have guessed there was no all-night bingo parlor in all of Washington, D.C.?

Nevertheless, Kevin made it to Union Station with time to spare.

But the really big question that was baffling me the most this morning is one that supporters of the Philadelphia Phillies are not asking themselves – at least they aren’t asking themselves with any great concern (nor am I).

The question:

What in the Sam Hill is wrong with the New York Mets?

In the midst of a freefall of monumental proportions, the Mets, as Phillies’ fans are well aware, have lost six of their last seven and seven of their last nine. During that span, the Mets’ lead over the Phillies in the East has shrunk from 6½ games to 1½ heading into Friday’s games.

Mets’ skipper Willie Randolph delivered one of the understatements of the season when talking about the latest loss with reporters last night.

“We're definitely making it tough on ourselves, huh?”

Indeed. But not without some help. Last night’s game – as viewed from the press box at RFK on MLB.com’s Gamecast – seemed as surreal as it was dramatic. The Mets rallied to take a three-run the lead in the ninth when Marlon Anderson hit a bases-loaded triple with two outs, only to give those runs back in the bottom of the ninth when reliever Jorge Sosa could not close it out.

What? No Billy Wagner? Nope, according to reports ol’ Billy had back spasms and couldn’t take the ball.

Could Wagner finally be helping the Phillies get to the playoffs?

Anyway, it looks as if the Mets are getting a little tight and even the front-office types are feeling it. According to a story in Sports Illustrated, owner Jeff Wilpon is casting the blame for the Mets’ recent play on… well, everyone.

“I'm disappointed with the way the team is performing overall, and that's everyone, top to bottom,” Wilpon told Sports Illustrated. “I'm disappointed in Omar (Minaya), Willie, the players ... that's everyone. We shouldn't be in this position. But we are. We've got to fight our way out and pull this out.”

But no one has been able to explain the basic, simple question:

What in the Sam Hill is wrong with the New York Mets?

To figure it out, I put in a call to Mets’ pre- and post-game host on SNY, Matt Yallof. When Matt and I get to the bottom of this issue, I will report back right here.

The ‘pen is mighty? While the Mets are preparing to roll over and expose their pink, rounded belly for the Phillies to claw apart, it’s interesting to note that the Phils are making their sprint for the finish line thanks largely to the bullpen.

Yes, the Posh Spice-thin bullpen.

To follow up Tuesday’s 14-inning victory in which the relievers tossed 11 frames one-run ball, the ‘pen went seven scoreless innings last night against the Nats. Of course the memory of Monday night’s near debacle where the relievers almost coughed up an 11-run lead, but since then they have been pretty good. In the last three games the bullpen has allowed just two runs in 21 2/3 innings.

Nevertheless, 21 2/3 innings is a lot of work in just three games… especially at this point of the season.

Closing up shop In the past on these pages, I have opined about Washington’s RFK Stadium and the time I spent there in my youth. Though we could never go to see the Redskins play in the ol’ ballpark (the waiting list for tickets was something like 155 years), I can recall in vivid detail of watching the Grateful Dead and the NASL’s Washington Diplomats.

But not to bore any with more rhapsodizing over the last weekend of major league sports at RFK, I’ll turn that chore over to The Washington Post’s Tom Boswell, who writes about the lovable dump.

And it is a dump.

Finally… Chris and Julie Stover of Lancaster, Pa. finally added a girl to the Stover/Gerfin/Finger brood. The little lady arrived this morning and has yet to receive a name, but her uncle (me!) and the rest of the clan are giddy about her birth and hope that she can show her big brothers and boy cousins who the boss is.

And here we thought Chris couldn’t make a girl. Good work, big guy!

Cooked case

WASHINGTON – Let’s just get it out of the way at the top… I believe Floyd Landis got screwed. I believe that if his case were held to the same standards of the rule of law, Landis’s case would have never gone to trial. Hell, he would have never been indicted.

If Floyd Landis were a baseball player instead of a bike rider, he would still be out on the field without even the slightest threat of suspension.

But whatever. Righteous indignation is typically the rallying cry for losers. Everybody gets screwed at one time or another. However, the part in the case against Floyd that seems so… wrong is that it doesn’t seem as if he was given due process. That’s really the crux of my righteous indignation, aside from the notion that Floyd seems A LOT more believable than Dick Pound, Travis Tygart and the rest of those bureaucrats.

Look, I don’t care if Floyd was cocktailing HgH with winstrol and deer urine all while freezing his rest-day blood in a hyperbaric chamber. Due process is ESSENTIAL.

Wizened old sage Bob Ford, who has been around the loop at the Tour de France numerous times and could be the best cycling writer in the world, dropped me an e-mail minutes after I received one from Floyd’s PR representative, Pearl Piatt, to announce the arbitrator’s ruling. The subject line said it all:

“Cooked case.”

The rest of the email would have made a hell of a column, but it’s football and baseball season in Philadelphia so such things as a doping case involving a Mennonite bike rider from Lancaster County tend to get buried.

Except for here.

As Bob wrote last May:

Landis was caught by the Laboratoire National de Dépistage du Dopage in Châtenay-Malabry, a facility in a suburb just southwest of Paris. The methods and procedures at the lab are sloppy, and the results it issues are increasingly suspect. Recently, the International Tennis Federation announced that drug tests from the French Open - held in Paris, by the way - would be shipped to a lab in Montreal rather than shuttled to Châtenay-Malabry. The ITF said it was an economic decision, but what was it going to say?

The French lab has spit out approximately three times as many positive results as other labs sanctioned by the World Anti-Doping Agency. Those results, particularly the ones involving notable American cyclists, are also quickly leaked to L'Equipe, the French sports newspaper, which happens to be owned by the company that owns the Tour de France. So it's quite a racket.

Does any of this mean Floyd Landis is innocent, set up by nefarious Frenchmen who twirl their moustaches and laugh heartily at his plight? No, it does not. He may well be guilty. It means only that you can't trust the evidence.

This would be fine for Landis if his case was being heard in a court of law that adhered to innocent-until and the overriding escape hatch of reasonable doubt. Instead, his arbitration, which is being prosecuted by the U.S. Anti-Doping Agency, will be judged by a three-man panel, and was probably decided before it began.

Each side in the case picks one arbitrator, and the third is supposed to be mutually agreed upon. That didn't happen, and the compromise member of the panel is someone who almost always rules against athletes. The decision is cooked, in other words, and Landis is done.

Floyd won the 2006 Tour de France, fairly, I think. But even for as much as I’d like to say his incredible ride in Stage 17 is still one of the most exciting days in sports I have ever seen, I’d be lying if I said it’s not a little tainted now. Yes, Floyd will probably continue to race and could one even go back to ride in the Tour de France, but it will never be the same.

And that just sucks.

USADA Rules Against Landis; Title Stripped

WASHINGTON – After more than 14 months of waging a case to clear his name while facing inscrutable uncertainty about his future, Lancaster County native Floyd Landis finally has an answer. Needless to say it was exactly what he did not want to hear.

“This ruling is a blow to athletes and cyclists everywhere,” Landis said in a statement. “For the Panel to find in favor of USADA when, with respect to so many issues, USADA did not manage to prove even the most basic parts of their case shows that this system is fundamentally flawed. I am innocent, and we proved I am innocent.”

A three-person arbitration panel, convened for the United States Anti-Doping Administration’s (USADA) hearing over Landis’ failed drug test following the 17th stage of the 2006 Tour de France, ruled 2-1 against the American cyclist. As a result of the ruling, Landis has been issued a two-year ban from sanctioned cycling races and has been stripped of his title in the 2006 Tour de France.

“The decision of the arbitrators clearly establishes that regardless of the evidence presented by the athlete of the errors of the laboratory, the conflicted and coordinated testimony of the anti-doping community, including heads of other WADA laboratories and experts who receive millions of dollars from USADA, will prevail over the evidence presented by the athlete,” Landis’s statement continued.

Yet, despite a dramatic, come-from-behind victory in the 2006 Tour de France, Landis is the first ever champion in the 104-year history of the race to lose his title.

Spanish rider Oscar Pereiro, who finished second to Landis in the 2006 Tour, will be declared the winner.

“Today's ruling is a victory for all clean athletes and everyone who values fair and honest competition,” USADA CEO Travis Tygart said. “This decision confirms for the overwhelming majority of American athletes who compete ethically that USADA is committed to protecting their right to participate on a drug-free playing field.

This is pending more legal wrangling, of course. Landis can appeal the USADA’s ruling to the Swiss-based Court of Arbitration for Sport (CAS), which Landis is “currently weighing his future legal alternatives in pursuing his case.” Landis has a month to make his appeal.

If he chooses to take his case to the CAS, Landis will again be fighting the positive drug following the remarkable 17th stage of the 2006 Tour de France in which he had an illegal testosterone-to-epitestosterone ratio. Reports are that Landis's T/E ratio was 11-to-1, which is significantly higher than the 4-to-1 allowed by rule.

Plus, during the 14 months of fighting the charges from the USADA, Landis says he has spent approximately $2 million (including approximately $1 million of his own money) in his defense. Following the presentation of his case at the public arbitration hearing at Pepperdine University in Malibu, Calif. in May, Landis continued to travel across the United States in attempt to clear his name with a presentation of his fight against the allegations as well as meet-and-greet sessions in support of his book, Positively False: The Real Story of How I Won the Tour de France.

Additionally, Landis published all of the information about his defense and the case on his Web site, floydfairnessfund.org.

It was during his travels across the country that Landis spoke about his defense, which centered on the contention that the testing, procedures and protocol of the French-government owned laboratory, the National Laboratory for Doping Detection (LNDD), that performed the drug test during the Tour were flawed.

In fact, Landis and his legal team pointed out over 200 procedural and protocol errors by the French lab, including some that were acknowledged in the USADA arbitration hearing in May. What’s more, the LNDD’s methods and procedures are viewed as so sloppy that the International Tennis Federation opted to have its drugs tests for French Open performed in Montreal rather than at lab mere miles away from where the tournament is held.

In the ruling, the majority of arbitrators did find areas of concern about LNDD, specifically in testing protocol.

“The Panel finds that the practices of the Lab in training its employees appears to lack the vigor the Panel would expect in the circumstances given the enormous consequences to athletes of an adverse analytical finding,” the decision said. “If such practices continue, it may well be that in the future, an error like this could result in the dismissal of a positive finding by the lab.”

But alas, in the end the arbitrators were not swayed by the evidence.

Instead, the three-man panel, which convicted Landis on a 2-1 unanimous decision, sided with the USADA’s argument that did little to challenge the cyclist’s assertions. In fact, USADA attorneys never directly asked Landis if he used synthetic testosterone, as positive tests after Stage 17 at the 2006 Tour show he did. The case of anti-doping agency, which is funded in part from U.S. taxpayer dollars, centered more on Landis’s character rather than the science involved in proving whether or not an athlete had used performance-enhancing drugs.

“The majority Panel's decision is a disappointment, but particularly so because it failed to address the joint impact of the many errors that the AFLD laboratory committed in rendering this false positive,” Landis’s attorney, Maurice Suh, a partner at Gibson, Dunn & Crutcher LLP, said. “To take each of these errors singly, is to ignore the total falsity of the result. The majority panel has disregarded the testimony of Mr. Landis' experts, who are preeminent in their respective fields, without analyzing the impact of the errors on the final result. This is a miscarriage of justice.”

In its 84-page decision, the majority found the initial drug test to measure Landis' testosterone levels was not done according to World Anti-Doping Agency rules. However, the majority agreed that the carbon-isotope ratio analysis (IRMS), performed after a positive T/E test is recorded, was accurate.

But some, like Suh, have claimed that the hearing was a matter of the “circus not the science.”

In that regard, the incomplete testimony of former American cyclist Greg LeMond and the acknowledged prank phone call from Landis associate Will Geoghegan, took center stage.

“This case is really just another sad example of the crisis of character which plagues some of today’s athletes and undermines the honest achievements of all of those athletes who compete with integrity,” Tygart said. “Hopefully, some of the good that comes from this type of case is that other athletes who might be tempted to cheat will recognize that there is no honor in doping to win.”

The hearing will forever be remembered for its soap operatic nature of the aborted LeMond testimony in which the three-time Tour de France champion showed up and revealed that he had confided to Landis that he had been sexually abused as a child. Then, the night before his scheduled testimony, LeMond received a phone call from Geoghegan, posing as an “uncle,” in which he threatened to disclose the former rider’s secret if he showed up to the hearing.

Not only did LeMond show up, but he also claimed Landis had admitted he had doped. However, as written in the decision, the majority wrote that LeMond’s appearance was meaningless.

"The panel concludes that the respondent's comment to Mr. LeMond did not amount to an admission of guilt or doping," the majority wrote.

In the end, the question still remains whether or not Landis doped to win the Tour de France

Moreover, did Landis expose the anti-doping system’s testing procedures and how athletes are prosecuted? Is the system broken?

USADA will say no, and obviously, Landis’s camp will go the other way.

But the fact is the Landis case has changed the way anti-doping agencies and doping cases are viewed.

“That wasn’t even in the back of my mind, and honestly, I didn’t realize the jeopardy that athletes are in because it never crossed my mind. I had no problem giving a urine sample because I did it all the time and I assumed that the people testing it were legitimate and out to do the right thing. It never crossed my mind that it could be the way it is,” Landis explained about his trendsetting case in an interview last June. “And it’s hard for people to believe when I say it really is that bad. They think, ‘Yeah, he’s guilty. That’s why he’s trying to accuse them.’ But, even a guilty person deserves to have the evidence against him provided to him without having to spend $1 million in a year.”

It will be even more money if there is an appeal.

More on the Landis case: Panel Rules Against Landis in Doping Case; Tour de France Title Stripped

Floyd Landis on Tour to Clear His Name

USADA release (PDF)

Arbitration Ruling: USA Cycling Athlete Floyd Landis Receives Two-Year Suspension for Doping Violation (AAA Decision) September 2007 - Majority decision, 84 pages (PDF)

AAA Dissenting decision - 26 pages (PDF)

All of the other really good stuff is at TBV

Time to 'man up'

One of the topics missed yesterday was Cole Hamels’ three-inning outing in which he was held to a tight pitch count. The outing was Hamels’ first start in 32 days and needless to say, he wasn’t as sharp as he would have liked. But the bigger issue wasn’t that Hamels lasted just three innings and gave up three runs. The bigger issue was that the young lefty used up his 54 pitches in just three innings. Certainly that puts a heavy burden on a bullpen that doesn’t need any extra lifting, though perhaps this is a bad time to be faulting Hamels for being rusty in his first time out in over a month. After all, the relievers ended up allowing just one run in 11 innings in the 7-4 victory in St. Louis.

Still, if Hamels is going to make two more starts he’s going to have to be a little more efficient. Sure, he will probably throw approximately 75 pitches in Sunday’s start at RFK, but these days the Phillies need the starters to make the game shorter for the ‘pen. With 10 games to go, there will be more than enough heavy lifting to go around. If Hamels is serious about pitching this season, he should grab the big end. There will be plenty of time to rest up in the winter.

Besides, manager Charlie Manuel says it will take 89 to 90 victories to get into the playoffs. At 82-70, the Phillies will have to be pretty darn good in the final 10 games. At a minimum they have to win every remaining series…

They can start with a sweep in The District.

On the road again Speaking of The District, RFK is sure to be overrun with Phillies fans this weekend. In fact, I’ll wager that the Phillies fans outnumber the Nationals fans – if there is such a thing.

So for those making the short drive from the Philadelphia area to DC, and looking for something to do before the ballgames, well, you don’t need me to tell you about the museums and the monuments.

But for those who like to get off the beaten path and stay away from the touristy-type places, it’s always fun to meander through Georgetown. Here’s what to do: go get breakfast/lunch at Billy Martin’s on Wisconsin and then weave in and out of the tree-lined neighborhood streets.

Do you want to know who lives in some of those houses? No. 3307 N St. was where JFK and Jackie lived until they moved to the White House in 1961. No. 3018 on Dumbarton Avenue is where a Supreme Court Justice (Felix Frankfurter) and two Secretaries of State (Henry Kissinger and Cy Vance) lived. Alger Hiss lived at 2905 P Street, which was a half block down from a house JFK rented at 2808 P Street. Cold warrior and former secretary of state Dean Acheson lived across the street at 2805 P.

For more notable G-town houses, check out this Flickr site. Sadly, I still can’t locate the M St. bar where Dikembe Mutombo asked his famous question when he was still a Georgetown undergrad. In the meantime, the location of Felix Frankfurter’s crib will have to do.

Like opening for Hendrix Typically when professional athletes wax on about serious issues, I always end up hearing Chris Tucker recite his famous line from those movies he does with Jackie Chan.

Nope, I didn’t see it either.

Anyway, I rarely have had those Chris Tucker moments during Donovan McNabb’s many chats with the local press over the years, but the recent bit over his comments on HBO and the aftermath got it going.

But I’m hardly an expert on Donovan McNabb or the Eagles, so I’ll leave the analysis over his on-the-field and off-the-field issues to smarter people. However, it was quite poignant to note that the McNabb piece on HBO’s “Real Sports” was followed by a segment about an up-and-coming runner who was one of the Sudanese Lost Boys.

I can just imagine that production meeting:

“Hey, what do we follow the whiny, overpaid jock story with?”

“How about the story about the runner from Sudan who was orphaned when government troops attacked his village and killed his family? That should be an interesting contrast.”

I suppose the parallel was lost on a few folks.

Floyd update Yes, the word on the Floyd Landis case is expected to come down by Friday (or Saturday… maybe Sunday). To help lighten the work load (we have an extremely small staff here at CSN.com) I’ve been writing ahead, which could be a bad idea if the result is the opposite from the way I have been shaping the story.

There’s no point here. I'm just sayin'.

*** More coming from DC...

Choking in the Big Apple

So here’s the question: Are the Mets choking or are the Phillies about to take the NL East away from them?

How about both?

What about the Padres? Can they keep up their winning ways in order to fend off the Phillies in the wild-card race?

Will the Phillies ever lose again?

The short answer…

Who knows.

We’ll attempt to answer some of those questions, but first let’s figure out what in the hello is going on with the Philadelphia baseball team. Last night’s 7-4 victory in 14 innings[1] over the nearly-X’d out St. Louis Cardinals pushed the Phillies to 1½ games behind the Mets in the East and kept them 1½ games behind the Padres in the wild-card race. What makes this crazy is that the Phillies have picked up five games in five days against the free-falling Mets, who, as they begin to feel their drawers bunch up, called a team meeting prior to going out and getting whacked by the Nats at RFK last night.

Needless to say, that meeting could not have been fun. Anyone who has seen the visitors’ clubhouse at RFK can report that it is a very unpleasant room. First of all, the stench of laundry, sweat and shower mold permeates through the dank and cramped hallways. Then there is the feeling that the walls are going to close in on you kind of like that trash compactor scene in Star Wars. I swear I’ve seen a big, futuristic-looking snake slither out of the shower area and into the make-shift kitchenette.

The worst part about that clubhouse at RFK, of course, is how cramped it is. A player can barely get changed into his uniform without knocking over the buffet perched precariously on a small ledge near the big-screen TV and fake-leather couch. Being in that room is almost as bad as sitting in coach of a trans-continental flight with the sudden, screaming urge to take a leak. Only you can't get up because the two clowns sitting next to you on the left are fast asleep. And because they have banned water bottles on flights, you are SOL in trying to find relief that way.

So imagine having a team meeting in such a place. How bad must it make a team feel that while in the throes of a crippling losing streak, they have to sit in such a place and talk about how awful things are going? It's like psychoanalysis with Ted Nugent. No wonder the Nationals whipped them again to extend the Mets’ freefall.

Meanwhile, in the posh new space in St. Louis at ballpark that was opened just last year, the Phillies reportedly spent the time before the 14-inning victory over the Cardinals watching Wedding Crashers.

There is no truth that after the game, Aaron Rowand proclaimed: “Cheesesteaks and baseball… THAT’S WHAT PHILADELPHIA DOES!”

But such a thing wouldn’t be extraordinary.

Anyway, according to the math wizards at Sports Club Stats, the Phillies have a 42.9 percent chance to make the playoffs this season. If I had to guess (and my guessed change with the wind) it will take 90 wins for the Phillies to get into the playoffs.

With seven of the final 11 games against the Nationals and six of that 11 at the cozy hometown bandbox, 90 could be very doable.

Gone and probably forgotten The Phillies will play the Nationals in the final baseball games at RFK Stadium this weekend, which is a pretty good thing. Clearly, as mentioned above, the old ballpark on the banks of the muddy Anacostia River has seen better days.

Next season the Nationals will play in a new ballpark near the DC Naval Yard along the banks of the Potomac River, which, friends report, will offer stunning views of the city’s skyline and will be a major upgrade from RFK.

As if a shoebox isn’t an upgrade.

Anyway, I’m sure I’ll wax on about RFK this weekend because that’s kind of what I do. Apparently the plan is to demolish the old stadium as soon as the DC United builds its new arena.

---

[1] this was a game in which the Phillies finally decided to hit the ball at 1 a.m. … come on guys, help us out. We have to stay up late and watch these games. How about an early big lead so that we can… wait, you guys already did that. OK. Never mind. Just do whatever it is you do and I'll get back to my late-night channel flipping.

We waited for this?

As Billy Bob Thornton said in the epic film, Bad Santa, “Kids… they’ll run you ragged.There have never been truer words spoken in the entire history of the cinematic arts, and the fact that it took a movie about a miserable conman and his partner who poses as Santa and his Little Helper in order to rob department stores on Christmas Eve should be of no consequence.

Kids will run you ragged. It’s so very true.

As a result of being run ragged over the last three weeks or so, I’ve had a chance to really watch the Phillies very closely on television and at the ballpark (and I’ll be tap-tap-tapping away on my little laptop from the splendor of Robert Francis Kennedy Memorial Stadium in the District of Columbia this weekend) and I gotta tell you – I’m perplexed.

The Phillies are running me ragged.

Thinking about the Phillies and their chances to make the playoffs renders the same response as my wife gets when she peppers me with three questions without pause right on top of each other. Actually, this happens at least twice a day and my response is always the same – my brow scrunches tight, my eyes narrow and then my lips move but no cognitive sounds come out of my mouth.

It’s as if my brain was a typewriter and someone pushed all of the keys at the same time.

Anyway, most folks will tell you that the Phillies’ 13-11 victory over the Cardinals in St. Louis last night was a harbinger of bad things to come. Nursing an 11-run lead into the late innings the way our pal Ken Mandel suckles a Shirley Temple, the Phillies’ bullpen turned the game into a save situation and faced a handful of at-bats in which to potential game-winning run was at the plate. Had the Phillies lost the game it would have been devastating, they say, because there are so few games remaining in the season.

How does a team deep in the throes of a pennant race bounce back from blowing an 11-0 lead?

Guess what? We’ll never know.

We’ll never know because the Phillies didn’t blow the 11-0 lead. In fact, they won the game and picked up more ground in the NL East standings to cut the Mets’ lead to 2½ games. Sure, there was the issue of the bullpen giving up 11 runs in the sixth, seventh and eighth innings, but chances are manager Charlie Manuel will bypass relievers Clay Condrey (five runs on four hits without getting an out) and Jose Mesa (6.11 ERA) in any situation of significance during the next 12 games. With J.C. Romero, Tom Gordon and Brett Myers unavailable last night because of the heavy lifting the trio did in sweeping the Mets at Shea last weekend, the Phillies’ bullpen was asked to do nothing more than play a little matador defense.

With an 11-run lead what else were they supposed to do? You know, aside from give up 11 runs…

Though Gordon is recovering from back spasms, the Phillies seem to have everyone in place for the final 12 games. With Cole Hamels set to start tonight – though he will only throw approximately 70 pitches before he heads back to the clubhouse to rub fish oil on his arm – the rotation is as good as it is going to get. And with Myers entrenched at the back of the bullpen, along with Gordon, Romero, and Geoff Geary as the go-to relievers, everyone is reasonably healthy.

The real question is whether or not the Phillies’ pitching is good enough. Most people have doubts, though the answer will be evident in less than two weeks.

The day of reckoning It should be noted that the public relations folks that run interference for Floyd Landis have supplied me with all pertinent information to this point regarding the soon-to-be announced decision by the three-man arbitration panel in the USADA’s doping case against the Lancaster Countian and Tour de France champ. But the truth is there really isn’t anything anyone can say… at least until the big day comes.

Which will be soon, apparently.

Either way, Floyd’s people have been nothing but kind to me, which makes me feel a tiny bit bad about being a little smart-assy with them yesterday… but not that much. I kind of base my entire personality around being a jerk.

If I were a betting man, I’d wager that we will know whether or not Floyd is exonerated or will face a ban and more legal wrangling by Saturday… or Sunday… absolutely by Monday.

Take your numbers and crunch them In an essay for ESPN.com, the advanced and wildly astute cultural commentator Chuck Klosterman explained that fantasy football has nothing to do with reality or football. Yet despite this – or because of this – fantasy football remains wildly popular. People, it seems, love to use non-contextual statistics to show others that they… well, I don’t know what they’re trying to prove. It’s the gambling, I guess.

Anyway, if there was a better example of how sports statistics are meaningless (aside from Barry Bonds and pretty much all of baseball and football), it was seen in Donovan McNabb’s outing against the Washington Redskins last night. By all reasonable accounts, McNabb turned in a mediocre (at best) game in the 20-12 loss. However, his 240-yards passing (on 28-for-46) looks fairly decent considering that McNabb did not throw an interception.

But McNabb wasn’t very good and his team lost the game. Do you think that fantasy football players care about that?

Of course not.

My theory is that 75 (maybe 90) percent of the folks that follow the NFL from week to week do so solely for fantasy/gambling purposes. Actually, my contention is that most people really don’t care about football aside from the folks wearing the local team’s uniform, but the fact that Kelly Holcomb is a person's bye week starter makes every smacked ass with a wireless card Doctor freaking Z.

My point is sports statistics are meaningless. They are meaningless because good players on good teams sacrifice personal glory and statistics for the good of the team. In a sense these players on good teams are a type of neo-Marxists like Steve Nash and Derek Jeter, who, despite the fact that they make hundreds of millions of dollars, wantonly distribute and share the statistical wealth to their teammates. To players like Jeter and Nash, and locally, Chase Utley, the numbers beneath their names don’t mean nearly as much as the digits in the win-loss columns.

That's the biggest reason why people, subconsciously, don't want fantasy sports to be "real."

Regardless, my personal draw to fantasy football is the incessant one-upsmanship in trying to be the most funny and the most insulting amongst the people in the league. In fact, I can’t think of any other reason to participate... well, aside from winning the league championship (like I did last season) and the ancillary benefits that go with such a thing.

Finally The burgeoning criminals behind the art-rock band, Les Savy Fav, have released a new album. It's called "Let's Stay Friends," and the masterminds at Pitchfork gave it an 8.3, which seems rather arbitrary, though I'm sure it's very meaningful.

Anyway, I uploaded three tracks from the new record on the widget on the right column. Go nuts.

We're back

Well... kind of. The new site is pretty much set and just about ready to go. It seems as if the move went pretty well and it appears as if nothing got lost in the bottom of a drawer somewhere. Be that as it may, the old site has been completely transferred here -- for the most part, everything is exactly where it was before. It just looks... better. All that is left, I suppose, is to fill this space with words.

The tale of the suburban dad (unfinished)

I never thought my life would take this particular path. I never thought that I would be such a stereotypical suburban dad. I suspect no one ever thinks that way about themselves and as a much more cynical college student and post-graduate, I was CERTAIN that I would never be that guy.

Instead, there I was at the wheel of a black Saturn Vue toting my three-year old son to the local Barnes & Noble as we listened to Daft Punk’s “One More Time.” The idea was his, because he really likes to play with the elaborate Thomas the Tank Engine set that winds its way through an alcove in the expansive children’s section. My plan was to pick through one of Chuck Klosterman’s books on the advice of a friend who told me I’d really like his work[1]. My other goal was to keep my oldest son from smacking the hell out of anyone who tried to snatch away one of the trains he wasn’t playing with. Three-year old boys, as it is, have a very difficult time sharing anything even when they don’t need it, don’t want it, or don’t like it. In that sense they are a lot like just about everyone else.

Perhaps the most alarming part of this scene was the fact that Daft Punk was playing from an iPod attached to the Vue’s stereo system. The truth is I don’t know a damn thing about Daft Punk and I like to stay up to date on those types of things. Actually, I assumed that with the name Daft Punk, the group was likely a west-coast based alt-rock-skate-techno group that was developed through market research of the X-Games/PSP demographic.

Well, that’s almost correct, though I suppose I hastily judged the book by its title.

Instead, Daft Punk could be classified as an “electronic” band, or “techno” as it was (is?) called a decade or so ago when such bands (groups?) were associated with raves, club drugs and incessant strobe lights by the popular media. To me, it all sounds like the music designed for the ride through Spaceship Earth at Disney’s EPCOT about what the “future” is supposed to sound like. First the narrator explains how science WILL change how we live and think about damn near everything in that pitch-perfect voice as we roll past products that we will all purchase in the future not only because we love them and want them, but because it will be a necessity to drink Diet Coke with ginseng.

“In the future, man will keep domesticated animals in his home…” the voice says as we ride into the belly of Spaceship Earth, which, incidentally, isn’t a spaceship at all. It’s just a big silver sphere with dimples like some space age golf ball. Perhaps in the future spaceships will come in basic shapes?

Anyway, after the voice explains what the future will be like, the Daft Punk song comes blasting over the loudspeaker. People then dance in their seats because techno/electronic music is specifically made to make three-year olds and disaffected club kids to respond in the exact same manner. In that sense, the boy and I were having a blast as we drove to the Barnes & Noble. He especially took delight in naming the instruments as they were introduced into the mix.

“That’s the drums!” he yelled as he pretended to play.

“That’s a cymbal!” he said as he continued to drum.

Then a vocalist using a voice box-type thingy came in.

“Huh?”

Yeah, exactly.

I don’t know what the point of that was, and I still don’t know much about Daft Punk, either. I do know that Ted Leo has been known to cover “One More Time” from time to time in his wildly entertaining rock shows and since I follow Leo as closely as a lot of people follow the Phillies, I figured I owed it to someone (myself?) to learn more about Daft Punk. Either way, an actual point is that I felt like a quintessential suburban dad. Actually, I don’t think it could get much more suburban-er. A quasi SUV littered with kids’ toys and books and blasting Daft Punk while motoring to the Barnes & Noble in the mega box-store strip mall that also includes a Home Depot, an Old Country Buffet, a Blockbuster, a Circuit City, Sports Authority and Office Max, so the kid can play with the Thomas the Tank Engine and dad could dig through Klosterman books…

Where’s Norman freaking Rockwell?[2]

But aside from the expedition to a popular pop culture palladium where the task will be to look like being an attentive parent even though I'm reading about the cultural significance of Motley Crue and whose kid appears to be well-adjusted with Jimmy Carter’s altruistic sense of community – at least when it comes to letting other kids play with metal toy trains in a book store – the task was to get back home without violence or a classic tantrum that makes strangers think that I’m the masculine version of Joan Crawford. Hey, the Phillies were scheduled to play a day game in Atlanta and I felt compelled to watch.

Needless to say, this was a losing proposition at best. Fighting for what to watch on TV against a three-year old is a lose-lose proposition. If you “lose” and he gets to watch Little Einsteins or whatever, you lose. But if you take control and put on a baseball game, the chances are that you made the kid cry. Even though you won you still lost. In fact, I hear this is specifically the reason why the TV networks make sure that all of the World Series games start past bedtime on the east. There are a handful of dads like me who still watch baseball somewhat regularly and don’t want to have to battle against the programming wizards at Nick Jr. in order to do so. At my house a 7 p.m. start means I only miss the first inning or two, a 8 p.m. start means I can pretty much watch the entire game (until I fall asleep during the middle innings).

But a day game or 9 p.m. start means I’m screwed. Nine o’clock is just way too late to keep a guy with kids up at night, and a day game ensures that no one will watch.

Who sits inside and watches TV during the day anyway?

But with the Phillies still in the thick of things in the NL East and the National League’s wild-card chase, plus with me slated to return to work on Friday for the homestand opener against the Florida Marlins, I figured it would be fun to watch the game from Atlanta. Why not? During the previous two weeks of my paternity leave that has been labeled a “vacation”[3]by a handful of idiots, certain duties kept me from watching the Phillies. But that’s OK, too. After all, I always looked at sports viewership as my job more than anything and likened it to the time that I worked in one of my grandfather’s restaurants for two weeks one summer when I was 15. After getting a look “behind the curtain” I never wanted to eat there again because I knew what went on in the kitchen. Hell, some of it was even my fault.

Be that as it is, I made do with a few visits to some in-progress box scores on the web as well as a few in-game blogging by a few of the scribes covering the club. Truth be told, I’ve pretty much given up on traditional sportswriting in newspapers unless I’m directed there by a blog authored by a newspaper writer.

Is that the definition of a paradox or is that more like an abstract painting in which the artist uses white paint on a white canvas?

So when I saw that the Phillies were safely up by six runs as the game entered the seventh-inning stretch, I figured that all I missed was another offensive assault by the hometown team. According to the box score, the starting eight position players each had at least one hit by the fifth inning. This one, as they say, was oh-vah!

Man did “they” ever get this one wrong.

Instead the Phillies became the first team in 2007 to take a six-run lead into the eighth inning and lose. It’s interesting to note that there were 517 times that a team led by six runs heading into the eighth inning and every single time the team with the big lead won.

Perhaps the 518^th time is the charm?

But simply blowing a six-run lead isn’t the really bad part. Oh sure, considering the playoff implications and the Phillies’ standing in the NL East, the loss was a solid jab to the solar plexus. Certainly every game should be viewed as a so-called “must win” at this point of the season, especially when the team is leading by six runs with just six more outs to go to close it out. Losing a game in such a situation is just really bad. Not just really bad, but really, really bleeping bad.

“I still can't believe what happened,” manager Charlie Manuel told the writers after the game in which several of them specifically pointed out that the skipper’s skin color had noticeably changed its hue. “Totally amazing.”

The most amazing part is that the Phillies blew the lead when the team’s two best relief pitchers were on the mound. To start the eighth inning Manuel turned to 19-year veteran Tom Gordon, who was an All-Star closer last season and had pitched in the team’s previous two games against the Braves.

After Gordon recorded just one out (and allowed four runs), Manuel brought in Brett Myers to get the final five outs, which is a task the novice closer has never been asked to perform. Forget that Myers was the Opening Day starter or that testosterone-charged closers of the past like Goose Gossage and Bruce Sutter used to get as many as nine outs to finish up a game from time to time a generation ago, five outs in such a situation is a tall order. It’s a monumental task even though Myers paints himself with such false machismo from his off-the-field demeanor, complete with his penchant for faux-tough music and coterie that makes him look like a star in the WWE instead of an athlete that just signed a three-year, $25.75 million deal last winter.

Apropos, Myers is an interesting character because he is completely uninteresting and without depth, which is something we will examine in fuller detail later.

The important part is that the anchors of the Phillies’ Posh Spice-thin bullpen couldn’t nail down a six-run lead with six outs to go in the final month of the season. Moreover, the reason why they couldn’t do so isn’t really deep, either. Actually, even though Myers was tabbed with the loss and Gordon’s ERA ballooned to 6.49, those two are hardly in the bull’s eye of whom to blame. After all, the Braves did collect four broken-bat hits in the seven-run assault, which is kind of like being beaten to death by pillows. No, in this instance we will place the blame for the loss squarely on one man’s shoulders.

Hello, Chris Roberson.

The game ended when Matt Diaz hit a bases-loaded double to right field. More accurately, the game ended when Roberson failed to catch the fly ball that Diaz hit to right field. Myers’ post-game quote really says it all:

“When [Diaz] hit it, I thought, ‘Game over,’” Myers said. “I started walking off the field. I guess it just got away from him, spinning away. It was a good tennis shot, I guess.”

Yeah, but in tennis most balls at least touch another racket no matter how crafty the shot. Diaz’s game-winner was more serve-and-volley than a blistering, line-hugging ace from Roger Federer. This ball actually hit Roberson’s glove, and not the tip of it where he would have had to make a snow-cone catch either. Replays showed that hit the thin part of leather where if overlaps the thumb. Had Roberson been a centimeter deeper than he was the ball would have landed flat in the pocket, the game would have ended with the Phillies as the victor in a meaningful game, and everyone would have smiled in disbelief reserved for instances when the brakes on the car finally lock to avoid rear-ending the person in front of you who is stopped at a red light.

“Did that almost happen?” you say with mock exasperation. “Did I almost cause an accident?”

In this case, Chris Roberson rear-ended the guy in front of him at the light.

“It was real tough to read the ball,” Roberson said in his defense. “I saw [an earlier hit ball] go up and it was real tough to see if it was coming out at me or staying in the infield.”

He said this after noting that he “just rushed out” onto to the field to start the eighth inning without his sunglasses. This tells me that Roberson doesn’t pay attention to details and wasn’t prepared to play. This point was proven when two seemingly routine flies blooped in at Roberson’s feet to further exasperate the team’s death by pillows. It also tells me that Roberson should probably never play in another game as a defensive replacement – which is what his role was in this instance – ever again.

Never, ever, ever again.

Here’s what I know about Chris Roberson:

• His dad, Will Roberson, played in the NBA for the Detroit Pistons, though I can’t find any record of this.
• He is from Oakland, Calif., which is where shortstop Jimmy Rollins was born and raised.
• Manager Charlie Manuel is not a big fan.

That last one is purely speculation, though it isn’t too far off.

---

[1] This is nice. I like when people suggest to me what books, movies and music to check out. Actually, let me rephrase that. I like it when smart people tell me what I should check out. Dumb people tell me what I should read or see all the time and it’s always a letdown. Often some of the stuff they suggest has to do with Jesus. Certainly I have nothing against Jesus, but when it comes to pop culture, His body of work is often trite and made with the intent to make me feel bad about myself and others.

[2] I’m not sure where I read it or saw it, but there was a funny spoof of Rockwell paintings in which one was entitled, “Turn Your Head and Cough.” I think it was from Letterman, but I’m not 100 percent certain.

[3] There is no such thing as a vacation with two kids. I don’t want to be one of those whiny you-don’t-know-what-it’s-like guys, but really, people with one kid or no kids have no idea what it’s like. It’s fun and rewarding and all of that other happy horsebleep, but it’s also really, really hard and time consuming. It’s much more difficult than learning algebra when you can barely divide. You also get kicked in the nuts a lot, which isn’t meant to be metaphorical. The truth is you literally get kicked in the nuts. A lot.

And we will call him Theodore…

Or Teddy for short. Ted, which is even shorter.

Yep, the latest addition to the brood made his much-heralded appearance on Saturday morning (Friday night to others) at 2:41 a.m. This came after we arrived at the hospital on Thursday afternoon so that Ellen (my old lady) could be induced with a veritable cocktail of drugs aimed at tenderizing her cervix like an aged piece of Kobe beef.

After more than 25 hours of the midwife administering two different drugs three times like The Candy Man or that groovy purple dude from the psychedelic ‘70s cartoons who drove a microbus and wore high-heeled shoes and a hat with a long feather hanging from the side, they finally decided to go in and break her water. In the biz they call it “breaking the bag,” and when it was ruptured it sounded like a water balloon crashing onto the sidewalk.

Nevertheless, the bag breaking seemed to speed up the proceedings quite a bit and, interestingly enough, when someone says their water has been broken, there really is water… lots of water, in fact – all over the place, too.

Someone had to go and get a mop.

So we sat there in a room up to our ankles in water and caught some of the Carlos Ruiz’s dust-up with consummate sulker Marcus Giles, a whiner of such a high proportion that even baseball players say, “Yo, that dude always has the ass…”

That’s a bit of clubhouse jargon that the scribes lot to trot out amongst themselves and other so-called insiders in order to indicate that they are in the so-called club. It’s not quite a secret handshake, but it might get one into the lobby of the headquarters building.

Anyway, old pal Matt Yallof and I once had a not-too friendly conversation with whiner Giles back when he was playing for the Braves. If I recall correctly, Whiner was upset that Mark De Rosa got a start against a tough right-hander or something. Either way, we weren’t impressed, but then again, I doubt he was either.

You should have seen it the time we tried to chat with Josh Beckett about union issues a few years ago… (insert sarcasm font) what a prince!

After a brief nap and sitting around like we were at Yellowstone waiting for Old Faithful to blow, it was time to push. Well, I didn’t push. I just grabbed a leg and did my best to stay north of the equator. Needless to say it was the fastest, most intense 50 minutes of my life.

And in the end, a big boy (8 pounds, 4 ounces and 22 inches long) with an even bigger name slid out.

Fortunately, Teddy’s big brother Michael is extremely pleased with his new role and his little friend. Teddy’s mother is doing very well considering she pushed something the size of a watermelon out of a passage the width of a crazy straw. Somehow she carried it all out with much humor, panache and grace.

August 25: On this date

12 weeks to go...

… and I have no idea how I’m going to make it. Oh sure, I’m strong and I’m putting in the work, but this damn hip strain/inflammation is driving me crazy. Yeah, I can and have been running through it, but runners are compulsive, obsessive and whatever the hell else –ive there is. As a result, it’s no fun doing the work and then hoping that all the recovery and rest stuff sticks in order to do it all over again tomorrow.

That’s the thing – tomorrow’s run is always in the back of my mind. Of course most of the time I take the tact of, “I’ll worry about tomorrow when it gets here,” as far as running goes, which is good and bad. It’s good because it makes that day’s workout that much more satisfying when completed. However, I guess it’s not always the best for long-term health.

Anyway, my hip hurts, I need to lose 10-to-15 pounds and I need to add a little bit more intensity to the miles I rack up. Hills are fine, and the fartlek/surges work, too. But for some reason it seems as if something is missing in terms of quality.

So that’s what’s going on as far as running goes. Meanwhile, it appears as if there will be slightly less volume coming at the end of next week. That’s when my wife will be induced into labor to deliver our second son since it seems as if her cervix and the boy are quite content just where they are.

Either way, it’s going to be an interesting week to be sure.

Here’s what happened last week (Aug. 13 – 19):

Monday – 20 miles in 2:14:55
I nearly didn't go out at all and spent some time figuring out where and when to pack it in and head home. But, as it always happens, I settled in around 5 miles and kept a fairly steady pace the entire time. I even ran some hills.

The trouble was with my left groin or abdominal muscles, which nagged me the entire run. It didn't hurt or hinder me, but I definitely felt it. I think it's time to get in for some ART.

Anyway, I did the first 5 in 33:10 and got the work in. Crazy, huh?

Tuesday – 15 miles in 1:42:58
I don't know what the hell happened here. I put the pedal to the metal and was barely able to run 6:50s. I hope this has more to do with me running 20 miles yesterday than it has to do with my achy hip -- yes, today it was my hip and not abs/groin, though they were tender, too.

Anyway, I feel very strong. Actually, the distance is extremely easy. It's just that I have no speed at all right now and I'm afraid to jump into too many uptempo workouts with my hips/abs/groin in the shape they're in.

splits:
1st 5: 34:19
2nd 5: 34:27
3rd 5: 34:11

Wednesday – 16 miles in 1:46:26
Felt a little better in my left hip/groin/abs than the past two days, but it's still not 100 percent. Moreover, I lost some speed/concentration toward the end of the run.

Either way, I'm pleased that I got the work in with a minimal amount of discomfort. Hopefully this little muscle flare up will work itself out soon.

splits;
1st 3: 19:42
next 2.2: 14:05
middle 5: 33:18
last 5: 33:45

Thursday – GOOSE EGG
Took a big fat ZERO today. I went out for 4-minutes and 5 seconds before stopping my watch and walking home. With the cold, my tight hip and some old-fashioned tiredness, I decided I was running myself into the ground and took the day off.

Instead, I ended up eating and making an appointment with my man Siegenthaler for some ART.

Friday – 15.3 miles in 1:45:30
My hip is driving me crazy. It's tight as hell and takes a long time to warm up. However, despite the bum hip, a nagging head cold, oppressive humidity, a baby on the way and some standard malaise, I still pounded out a few miles today.

Hopefully I can go longer tomorrow.

Saturday – 16 miles in 1:49:40
More of the same, though I'm not sure if my slowness is coming from my cold, my sore hip or both of them put together. Either way, it wasn't what I would call a grind, but when I got around for my last loop I was finished mentally. Sure, I could have cranked out 20, but there was no point to that today.

splits:
1st 5: 33:53
2nd 5: 34:16
3rd 5: 34:16

Sunday – 18 miles in 2:01:56
I started out a little tight, but once I loosened up I felt pretty good, or at least much better than the last two days. I'm still very strong when it comes to running pure mileage, but I definitely have some work to do... namely with my core and with eating too much. If I can get under 160 I'll be hard to beat.

Somehow and some way I hit 100.3 miles for the week. Freak, machine, or stupid?

The clown show is on hiatus

Note: Beginning now this site is going on a two-week hiatus. As most regular readers know, my wife and I are expecting our second child (a boy) any day. But now that we are more than a week past the due date and since her cervix is like one of those old-fashioned steel bear traps, the natural process needs some prodding. Therefore, we go to the hospital on Thursday night with the hope of delivering the big boy on Friday.

It should be noted that Friday is also the birth day for Yasser Arafat, Vince McMahon, Cal Ripken Jr., Reggie Miller and Dave Chappelle.

Anyway, I will be checking in from time to time, but I will not return with regular posts until September 7. When we return expect something of a new look, structure and organization… maybe even a redesign, too.

Like anyone who has devoted time to baseball, I know that statistics are not worth the paper they are printed on. They lie and can be manipulated to prove bogus points. Statistics also cannot quantify health, heart, ability and whether or not someone has put hard workouts to be prepared for a long season. Plus, stats don’t go into the clubhouse and get a feel of the mood of the room or have to go face-to-face with a player it may have lied about.

Statistics are cowards. Sports are for playing, not watching – we hold these truths to be self evident.

But sometimes it is difficult to debate the statistics. For instance, in pushing the streak of not winning a series in Pittsburgh since June of 2001, the Phillies were outscored by the Pirates 15-2 from the seventh inning on last weekend at PNC Park or whatever the hell corporation owns the naming rights now.

Yeah, that’s right, 15-2… against the Pirates… the worst team in the National League.

So I’m going to cherry pick that one specific statistic to show that the Phillies might not have the pitching needed to get to the playoffs. Then again, it wasn’t like anyone needed a stat for that.

Pitching aside, the Phillies should have a really good idea of how the last month of the season will play out at the end of the next 10 days. With three games against the Dodgers and three more against both the Padres and the Mets – the two teams the Phillies are chasing in different playoff races – the playoff race is right in front of the team.

For the Phillies, 5-5 is treading water, 6-4 is reasonable; and 7-3 and better is ideal. But anything worse than .a 500 homestand could be the beginning of the beginning of the end.

According to Ryan Howard the Phillies control their own destiny... they also take them one game at a time and give 110 percent.

“This is a big series for us and the good thing is that we control our own destiny,” Howard said before Tuesday’s game against the Dodgers. “There will be a little bit of scoreboard watching going on, but most of it will be us trying to handle our own business.”

Scoreboard watching, huh?

“The scoreboard sits right there in front of us so we can’t help but not look at it,” manager Charlie Manuel said on Tuesday. “It’s about that time of the year and that can be good.”

***
Meanwhile, Chase Utley could return in a week after being cleared to take some swings with a bat for the first time after breaking his wrist at the end of July.

“(I) took some swings off the tee – started with the fungo and moved to my regular bat. I didn’t swing 100 percent but it felt pretty good,” Utley offered.

Based on his recovery from day to day, Utley hopes to add a little more volume to his workouts as he looks to his return.

***
But the injury bug has reared its head again… Cole Hamels has been scratched from tomorrow’s start with some left elbow tenderness. From the initial, knee-jerk reaction it doesn’t seem to be anything other than late-season tiredness, but pitchers’ arms are quite mysterious.

Regardless, Hamels is being diagnosed with a mild elbow strain and will have a precautionary MRI tomorrow.

“He was up front with us so I hope we got it early,” pitching coach Rich Dubee said.

***
Though one current Dodger pitcher once told me that “sometimes injuries just happen,” I respectfully disagreed. Injuries always happen for a reason – sometimes we can’t figure out what the reason is, but as our boy Floyd said, all it takes is the proper training:

“There's only one rule: The guy who trains the hardest, the most, wins. Period. Because you won't die. Even though you feel like you'll die, you don't actually die. Like when you're training, you can always do one more. Always. As tired as you might think you are, you can always, always do one more.

“If you overtrained, it means that you didn't train hard enough to handle that level of training. So you weren't overtrained; you were actually undertrained to begin with. So there's the rule again: The guy who trains the hardest, the most, wins."”

Learn it. Live it. Love it.

Wha' happened?

The most prolific run-scoring juggernaut in the National League posts six runs in the first two innings of a game against the team with the worst record in the league and the second-worst record in all of baseball and then they go on to lose?

Wha' happened?

Seriously, what gives? I saw the early reports from Pittsburgh and reasoned that the Phillies were on the way to a rout against the Pirates, a team that flat-out stinks. That’s pretty evident based on a quick glimpse at the standings.

So four runs in the first and two more in the second for an 11-6 loss? It sounds like it was a rough night for Jamie Moyer, which, again, appears that way based on the box score. Eight runs and nine hits in four innings aren’t getting it done.

Nice deduction, Sherlock.

Nevertheless, the Phillies remain tied with the Padres for the lead in the wild-card race. Certainly that’s a good thing, but completely meaningless at this point of the season when there are still 40 games to go. Better yet, Charlie Manuel knows that being tied for the lead in the wild-card race means nothing, as well.

“The times I've been in Philly, the times we get close and we win a game or something, and all of a sudden they'll say, ‘Oh you got to win now. Boy, if they don't win, they underachieved, and blah, blah, blah,’” Manuel said.

“We've just got to keep on winning. Whether it's 85, 86, 88, 90, 92 (wins), somebody's going to win and we've got to make sure it's us.”

Not that anyone asked, but it will probably take 90 wins for the Phillies to get in. Ninety wins is 25-15 for the final 40 games of the season. Beating Pittsburgh is a pretty good place to start.

***
Here’s one: according to a story by Alan Schwarz in The New York Times, Major League umpires are biased.

The study was conducted by a handful of professors from different universities where they discovered small, yet significant instances of bias by the umpires. However, in games monitored by QuesTec – the computerized camera system that the league uses in ballparks to scrutinize umpire performance – the bias was non-existent.

***
After a half-dozen years of it sitting on my teeming shelves, I finally picked up Evan Thomas’ biography of Robert Kennedy. I’m only a few days into it, but so far it’s better than Arthur Schlessinger’s RFK biography published in 1978.

Yeah, that’s about all I have for today.

The Real Deal redux

Ain’t nothing going on here but the rent… actually, make that the mortgage. It’s just another quiet day in The Lanc where the big excitement came when an accident on a nearby road forced the police to re-route traffic onto our tiny street next to the Country Day School. It was kind of like a parade.

And speaking of parades, who would have guessed that if the Phillies have a post-season march down Broad Street that J.D. Durbin would get a spot on a float? Not me, that’s for sure. Nevertheless, Durbin started last night’s 11-8 victory in Pittsburgh in which the Phillies moved into a first-place tie with the San Diego Padres in the wild-card race.

Interestingly, Durbin seems entrenched in that fifth spot of the rotation, which is some pretty heady stuff for a guy who worked his way through four organizations by the end of April. Then again, the cast offs and under-the-radar guys seem to be making important contributions to the Phillies this season. Antonio Alfonseca has been a cog in the bullpen even though the Phillies were the only team to give him a serious offer last winter. Kyle Kendrick wasn’t even invited to spring training and had appeared in just 11 games in Double-A before his call up. J.C. Romero, the go-to lefty in the ‘pen was waived by Boston in mid June.

Who would have figured that with 40 games remaining in the season and the Phillies in a dog fight for the NL East and wild-card playoff spots that Mike Zagurski, Chris Coste, Jose Mesa, Tada Iguchi, Russ Branyan, Greg Dobbs and Jayson Werth would be counted on to make meaningful contributions?

Better yet, is this a good thing or something to be worried about over the final month of the season?

Nonetheless, Durbin allowed two earned runs in six innings to pick up his fifth win in as many decisions. Better yet, better his win last night and the one he had on Aug. 2, Durbin also picked up a save. Suffice it to say it’s been a weird year for Durbin. One minute he’s bouncing from Minnesota to Arizona, to Boston, to Ottawa and then Philly where he’s winning and saving games in the playoff race.

Anyway, I discovered this story about Durbin from spring training when he was still with the Twins. It’s funny how things have changed for him.

***
Speaking of oddities, a prisoner in the South Carolina penal system has filed suit this week against Barry Bonds, Bug Selig, Hank Aaron's corked bat, Sammy Sosa, steroids and HGH, Steak and Shake on I-70, the Liberty Bell and one can only presume, Sasquatch, for violating the inmates’ Constitutional rights. He specifically cites the 1st, 2nd, 4th, 5th, 6th, 8th, 13th, and 14th amendments and wants $42 million in damages.

Read all about it via Steroid Nation, or see the actual complaint on The Smoking Gun. It really should be read to be believed.

***
I watched the documentary Showdown, the chronicling of the 2007 cross-country championships in Boulder held last February. It was pretty good and enjoyable, and shot quite beautifully. However, the story telling is really the most important aspect to any good documentary or TV news report and perhaps Showdown could have dug a tiny bit deeper in that regard.

Either way, I’ll probably watch it again when my wife is asleep and not talking the entire way through it.

'I think of Dean Moriarty...'

Ain’t nothing changed here but the prefix ahead of the day. We’re still settled in our constant state of alert, which, interestingly, kind of spices things up around here. We are nothing more than rank-and-file members of the leisure class that Plato wrote about so any type of adventure is welcomed.

Anyway, things are taking shape.

In that regard there will be no baseball or sports viewing around here for a minimum of two days. I’m taking a time out in order to waste my time on something else. Besides, all of the injuries ripping through the Phillies’ clubhouse kind of make me anxious since I’m fighting some aches and pains, too. Apparently I have some sort of inflammation of the Psoas major (or minor) muscle that makes me warm up extra long before runs and then zaps my speed after 90-minutes of running. It also hurts when I sneeze.

This, as they say, is no good.

No, I don’t need the disabled list and I seem to be responding to treatment, but it’s easy to understand why someone wouldn’t want to look at the walking wounding in red-and-white pinstripes if at all possible.

Speaking of the Psoas major, the hip flexor and the Iliotibial band, there was an fantastic story about our boy Floyd that will be out in this Sunday’s The New York Times. It’s longer than the one I wrote, and constructed how I wish I could put mine together as well.

Plus, the USADA called the Times back and not me? That’s so lame.

Oh well, you do what you can… when you are 50 percent of a staff there isn’t much time to go jetting off to places in order to write a better story. Besides, how interested are the folks in Philadelphia in anything not relating to the Eagles or Phillies?

Sigh.

Speaking of jetting off to places, the Times also had a few interesting stories about the 50th anniversary of the publication of Jack Kerouac’s On the Road.

For as much as I enjoyed On the Road when I was in my late teens and early 20s, I thought (and think) Dharma Bums was much better.

Still, 50 years for On the Road gives me an idea for a road epic… how about a bike race from Floyd’s old house in Farmersville to his new one in Murrieta, Calif.? By my estimate it is probably a little more than 2,600 miles from Lancaster County to Southern California, which is slightly longer than the Tour de France, but it would probably be just as good a race.

All we need are a few sponsors, some prize money and a couple of the best bike riders in the world and we’re set.

***
Finally, there was a story in the Inquirer today about former Phillies GM Ed Wade. It seems as if Ed got himself snagged in a tree on the way back to earth after a sky-diving excursion... or so they say.

If I didn't know any better I'd say that Wade, now an advance scout for the San Diego Padres, was pushed out of the plane or tried to pull off a D.B. Cooper type stunt.

Did you see that?

There is not much new to report from the home base here in The Lanc. All is quiet here, which is just the way we like it. Actually, it’s so quiet around here that more than a few folks appear to be worked up about the Phillies’ loss to those wily Washington Nats last night. Never mind the fact that the Phillies have scored just five runs in two games in Washington, or the fact that the entire lineup appears to have dived into a funk at exactly the same time. No, the play or decision that rankled some folks was manager Charlie Manuel’s determination to use lefty Russ Branyan as a pinch hitter against lefty reliever Ray King with no outs and two on in the seventh inning.

Branyan, needless to say, struck out. Hey, that’s just what he does. But the consensus seems to be that Manuel should have yanked Branyan for a right-handed hitter, which would have been the standard baseball move. But Manuel doesn’t have that option with his rice paper–thin bench. Because of injuries to Chase Utley, Michael Bourn and Shane Victorino, Manuel can’t waste too many players in such a situation. Righties Chris Coste, Jayson Werth and Wes Helms were in the game instead of on the bench, where Chris Roberson was the only other option aside from Branyan.

Regardless, Branyan’s whiff, and Jimmy Rollins’ subsequent strike out, was not the main reason why the Phillies lost to the Nats last night. The fact that the Phillies only got three hits off starter Tim Redding through six innings was much more significant.

When former Phillies attack former Phillies… Meanwhile, I was able to get my hands on a copy of the bat attack by former Phillie Jose Offerman on former Phillie Matt Beach in the Atlantic League game from earlier this week. Check it out:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cEuWQcPQfuw]

Sorry, I couldn’t resist.

*** Over the past couple of days I have read a few of the remembrances of former Yankees legend Phil Rizzuto, who died this week at age 84. Suffice it to say, Rizzuto lived a charmed life that seemed to transcend mere baseballdom. If I am not mistaken, the Scooter is the only man to win the World Series, and AL MVP Award, be elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame, and win an Grammy Award, which he got for his role in Meat Loaf’s “Paradise By the Dashboard Light.”

Growing up in Washington and Lancaster, I wasn’t privy to Rizzuto’s work with the Yankees’ broadcasts, but I was well aware of his work with Mr. Loaf and the commercials for The Money Store, which were spectacular.

Can you imagine such a place? The Money Store… who would have guessed?

Anyway, from the little bits I was able to piece together and from the stories people tell, Rizzuto was the perfect baseball announcer. Sure, he was probably lacking when it came to in-depth analysis and strategery type stuff, but really, who cares? Instead, Rizzuto entertained listeners with stories about the players, his life and the restaurants he visited. It seemed as if he was just another guy hanging out with the gang to watch the game and talk to his friends… that is the perfect announcer.

Plus, Rizzuto was funny. Who doesn’t use “Holy Cow!” as an exultation? Or, when calling a spectacular play while broadcasting a game on the radio Rizzuto would exclaim, “Did you see that?!”

Uh, no Phil… it’s radio.

The favorite, of course, was one Puerto Rico Day at Yankee Stadium when Scooter was describing the scene to his listeners, poked his head out of the press box window and exclaimed into the microphone, “… and look at all those Puuuuuuuuerto Ricans!”

It would have been neat to have heard Rizzuto call games regularly, but we’ll always have “Paradise by the Dashboard Light.”

*** Finally, I believe in the First Amendment. Actually, without the freedom of speech we have nothing. It’s the right that makes all others possible.

Be that as it is, there is one man whose entry to the so-called blogosphere who could push those freedoms to their ever-elastic breaking point.

Yes, Dennis Deitch has a blog.

God bless America. God bless us all.

Feast and famine

If there is one thing to be said about Russell Branyan it is that he is quite prolific. Actually, prolific might not be strong enough. Historical, perhaps, is the correct adjective.

When it comes to striking out, Russell Branyan has no peer.

Consider this: in his career, Branyan has whiffed in an epic 40 percent of his at-bats and 35 percent of his plate appearances… yeah, really.

Check this one out: according to Baseball Prospectus, since 1969 Branyan entered the 2007 season as the all-time leader in either striking out, walking or hitting a home run in an amazing 52.3 percent of his plate appearances. He’s well ahead of guys like Rob Deer, Adam Dunn and Mark McGwire.

Meanwhile, more than 28 percent of Branyan’s career hits are home runs.

In other words it truly is feast or famine for the new Phillies’ slugger.

“I have a tendency to swing and miss,” Branyan admitted.

Branyan was acquired last weekend when the Phillies sent cash to the Indians to add a bat to beef up the bench. Actually, judging from the way general manager Pat Gillick explained, it seemed as if any bat would do.

“We don't have any position players on option at Double-A or Triple-A. Consequently, we had 13 pitchers and 12 players and needed another player,” Gillick told the Inquirer. “We talked about getting somebody who might be able to run into a ball and win a game for us. Branyan was the guy we got. He's a hit-or-miss. I don't look at his average. We know he's going to strike out, but he's also going to run into some.”

And that’s just what Branyan did last night at RFK to give the Phillies a big, 3-2 victory over the Nationals. Reliever Jon Rauch gave the slugger a cookie and he made a meal out of it.

Nevertheless, don’t expect Branyan to find too many more plate appearances different than the situation he was in last night. Charlie Manuel, Branyan’s manager when he came up in the Indians’ organization, probably will only use his slugger when he needs a home run.

Or a strike out.

***
Speaking of Manuel, it’s interesting to note that there is a little bit of chatter about his candidacy as the National League’s manager of the year. Considering the injuries, the standings, the attitude in the clubhouse and the manner in which the Phillies play, Manuel should be the frontrunner.

Besides, I remember how the Phillies were when Manuel’s predecessor ran the club and some players really disliked going to work. Imagine that – a big league baseball player getting paid a lot of money and he was miserable about going to the ballpark because of one person.

Regardless, it’s the complete opposite of that with Manuel in charge.

***
Speaking of injuries, it appears as if Shane Victorino had a little setback in his rehab assignment for Double-A Reading last night. Nursing an injured calf muscle, Victorino “felt something grab” when running hard to first base and pulled himself from the game after going 1-for-3 with an RBI single.

Meanwhile, old pal Randy Wolf likely won’t make the trip to Philadelphia next week with his Dodgers teammates. That’s because it appears as if the former Phillie is out for the rest of the season with shoulder stiffness. Apparently Wolf further exasperated his shoulder problem when he tried to rush back from an initial injury he suffered in early July.

That’s not going to happen again, he said.

“I have to be realistic. I'm not going to take the ball until I feel perfect. So that's what I'm going to work for.”

***
Apropos of nothing, I have been contemplating certain elements of linguistics and our popular nomenclature and it seems to me that the guy who coined the term “mullet” is getting shortchanged. Think about it, one man came up with a perfectly trenchant piece of our lexicon that transcends all sorts of boundaries to be used by many different people and will likely live the rest of his life in obscurity.

That just doesn’t seem fair.