Pat Burrell: Gone. Butt not forgotten

My memory draws a blank on the event, but in a testimonial or roast (something like that) the story went that when Harry Kalas left the Astros' broadcast team to join the Phillies before the 1971 season, 12 bars closed in Houston.

Yes, it's a joke and (probably) an exaggeration, but it appears as if the shoe is on the foot here in Philadelphia. With Pat Burrell headed for a new team in 2009 (Cincy, Tampa?), what is going to happen to The Irish Pub?

What about some of those places in Olde City the so-called "Midnight Mayor of Philadelphia" ducked in and out of when making his nightly rounds? These are hard economic times for a lot of business owners. People are losing jobs and generations old companies are simply folding. Needless to say it's a difficult time for the conductor of the gravy train to be choo-chooing it to another town.

Deciding to part ways with Pat Burrell to go with Raul Ibanez in left field is a clear example of the Phillies' brass not looking at the entire picture. Oh sure, Burrell's career in Philly was marked by massive waves of wild productivity and futility. There were gigantic home runs to win ballgames and even larger strikeouts to lose them.

In the end it was Burrell who led the parade down Broad Street a top of a Budweiser truck, no less. Man, they nailed that one -- with his wife and English bulldog Elvis by his side, Burrell was once again leading the celebration.

But the reason why Burrell so endeared himself to so many Philadelphians wasn't just because of his performance on the diamond... it was more than that. Yes, Philadelphia loved Burrell so much because he was right out there mixing it up with everyone and the stories became instant legends.

Jim Salisbury of the Inquirer wrote it best in his interview with Dallas Green from December of 2006:

"It's neat to have money, it's neat to have good looks, and it's neat to have broads all over you. Every place I've managed, I've talked to kids about the same thing. It's a hell of a life..."

Burrell acted just like the way we all though a ballplayer should act. He was a throwback to a type of player who went all out whether it was at The Irish Pub or Citizens Bank Park and Philly loved that. He was always first to arrive and the last to leave. Better yet, there's a good chance that the No.1 overall pick in the 1998 draft might have even have bought you a drink at some point.

But Burrell's loss will hurt more when it comes to a certain segment of the fan base. Oh yes, the "broads," to use Green's term, are seething over the probable loss of Burrell in left field for the Phillies in 2009.  Worse, the Phillies raised ticket prices in a depressed economic climate and won't have Burrell out there in his tight home whites.

No, the ladies aren't happy about the Phillies' off-season so far.

"The Phillies don't have any hotties anymore," said one 30ish woman (I believe the term is "cougar"... hey, it's not my term) in a conversation about the new makeup of the team's roster.

"What about Chase Utley, Jimmy Rollins or Cole Hamels?" I asked.

"I mean Chase is OK if you just want to make out," she answered. "But where's the eye candy?"

Where indeed?

Another woman says she will continue to attend Phillies games at Citizens Bank Park, though she just won't purchase the top-dollar seats.

"What's the point of sitting close to the field?" she asked. "I'm not going to pay a premium on tickets if there isn't anything to look at."

It's a fair point. After all, to some baseball is less a religious experience or pure test of athletic prowess and will than it is a night out on the town for some (not so) cheap thrills. For some in the largest portion of the population, the Phillies just got a lot less interesting.

So what is it about Burrell that put the fannies in the seats?

"Oh, it was his butt. No question," another woman said, intensely asking that her name won't be used. "When he's out there it's kind of like watching Michelangelo's David only in reverse and in a baseball uniform. It was sublime, just a work of art.

"Oh yes, it's definitely the butt."

Kissed on the Cheeks There are only a handful of professional sports coaches that get to dictate the way they go out. Oddly, it appears as if Charlie Manuel will be one of those rare examples. Maurice Cheeks, the Sixers' newly-fired coach and greatest point guard, was not.

That's the trouble with hiring legendary players to coach a team - it rarely ends well. Larry Bowa is the prime example of that.

The interesting part about Cheeks' ouster is that it lacked the adulation that marked his hiring. When Cheeks re-joined the Sixers as coach five years ago, all anyone could talk about was what a good guy he was while breathlessly remembering the time in Portland when he helped a young girl sing "The Star Spangled Banner" when she forgot the words.

So to remember the good times with Mo Cheeks, we'll leave you with this:

Good luck, Mo.

Utley in town Fresh off hip surgery, Phils' All-Star Chase Utley will meet with the local press on Monday afternoon to discuss how his rehab is going and whether or not he will be ready to play on Opening Day.

As a public service to our readers, Andy Schwartz of CSNPhilly.com was kind enough to put together the transcript of Monday's press conference ahead of time.

Here it is:

Question: "Chase, how you feeling?"

Chase: "Good."

Question: "You hope to be ready by the start of the season?"

Chase: "We'll see. Probably."

Question: "How tough was it to play with the injury last season?"

Chase: "I wasn't hurt last season."

Leaving Las Vegas

LAS VEGAS – Well, that just figures doesn’t it? As soon as we all decide to pack up and get out of Las Vegas to return back to civilization, the Phillies go ahead and make a splashy signing.

So that’s why general manager Ruben Amaro Jr. decided to stay in Vegas an extra day… Here I thought it was so he could catch Wayne Brady at The Venetian.

Is Ruben Amaro gonna have to sign a left fielder?

Yes, apparently so.

The old rumors from long before the traveling baseball circus hit The Bellagio turned out to be much more valid than the ones we heard on site. Instead of guys like Rick Ankiel or Ryan Ludwick coming over to Philly in a trade with the Cardinals, Amaro went out and signed up type-A free agent Raul Ibanez for three years. The price tag was $30 million for three years and a first-round draft pick.

Hmmmm… isn’t that a little steep for a 36-year old left-handed hitting outfielder?

Nevertheless, one part of the info we picked up in Vegas was solid and that was there was no way the Phillies were going to give Pat Burrell a three-year contract. Ibanez? Sure, no problem. But the 31-year-old top overall draft pick with 251 homers, including 30 in a World Series-winning season?

No way.

Sure, Burrell isn’t much of an outfielder these days. In fact, a source revealed that there is so little interest in the slugging left fielder because of his bum wheels. Nobody seems to think Burrell can play the outfield anymore, which certainly puts a crimp in a National League team’s interest in signing him to the three-year deal he reportedly wants.

Still, what makes Ibanez so much more attractive than Burrell? Sure, Ibanez  is a little more fleet afoot, but he certainly has suffered more injuries than Burrell and hasn’t been as consistent a run producer as the longstanding Phillie.

Better yet, re-signing Burrell over Ibanez would not have cost the Phillies a first-round draft pick.

"I think there will be a market for him," manager Charlie Manuel told us on Thursday. "He averages 30 homers and he knocks in 100 runs even though I take him out of the gameto I run for him. He still scores over 100 runs and he has a high OBP and if you look, he sits right up there with the leaders. He's a run producer and I think there are teams in baseball that definitely need that and I think that once it all works out, I think that Pat will see where he’s at and, you know, he's gonna land somewhere and, there might be a chance that he could work his way back with us."

Sorry Charlie.

But there had to be some reason Burrell was shoved out the door for another left-handed hitter. For instance, Ibanez had 110 RBIs, a .358 on-base percentage and a .472 slugging percentage last season. He is one of just five outfielders who have driven in at least 100 runs in each of the past three seasons with Carlos Beltran, Magglio Ordonez, Carlos Lee and Bobby Abreu. He also hits lefties better than righties, which is an interesting little anomaly.

Even more interesting is the fact that Ibanez was such a big run producer while playing half of his games in the pitcher-friendly Safeco Field in Seattle. Who knows what 23 homers and 110 RBIs at Safeco translates to at the bandbox Citizens Bank Park.

Either way, Ibanez is probably excited to get started.

End of an era

So here’s one for you: How does will the Pat Burrell Era be defined? As the third-best home run hitter in team history (behind Mike Schmidt and Del Ennis), as well as seventh in RBIs (827), eighth in extra-base hits (518), fifth in walks (785) and second in strikeouts (1,273).

If his career in Philly were placed on a sheet of graph paper it would look like a roller coaster ride on the stock market. In the beginning there was great promise and much adulation from the hometown fans, followed by maddening slumps and an even more frustrating plateau. But toward the end of his days with the Phillies, Burrell settled into his role and routinely posted 30 homers and 90 RBIs even though he usually was removed from games for defense or a pinch runner.

Who knows how much better (or worse) his numbers would have been if he did not lose those handful of at-bats each week.

However, the Burrell Era ended pretty well in Philly. Only one other era ended better.

Re-Pete

It’s boarding time here at the McCarran International Airport in Las Vegas. When we get back to the Eastern time zone, look for more nuggets from the afternoon spent with Pete Rose at Caesar’s Palace as well as the ol’ emptying of the notebook from the Winter Meetings.

That Pete Rose is something else. Here’s something I bet you didn’t know about him… like Charlie Manuel, he’s a bit of a “toucher” when engaged in conversation. It’s friendly and chummy and kind of nice.

Pete also has no internal editor and he doesn’t change the style of his discourse for his audience. He just lets it fly. Needless to say, that’s very fun… maybe a little crazy, but very fun.

Visiting with Pete Rose in Las Vegas

LAS VEGAS – Needless to say, there is a lot of baseball talk at the Winter Meetings. It's never ending, actually. Banter over the latest free agents, trades, the economy of the game is the reason why everyone showed up at The Bellagio in the first place.

Yet despite all of the talk and rumor-mongering no one at The Bellagio took the time to bolt out of the resort

and out into the sun-soaked Thursday afternoon in the dry December desert air to Caesar's Palace. Seperated by just mere steps, the baseball Winter Meetings were so close to a lonely figure who knew a thing or two about the game.

At the same time he may as well have been on the other side of the moon.

But this was where he was hiding in plain sight, sitting behind a long, narrow table with a pile of Sharpie pens of various sizes while fiddling with the Bluetooth ear piece for his iPhone. He looked much older sitting there with an assistant behind the table and red ropes that cordoned his area away from the rest of the room.

Wearing a weathered leather ball cap with white leather ankle boots, a Nike dri-fit top, all accessorized by a large gold watch and gold bracelet, baseball's all-time hits leader sat so close yet so far awy from the epicenter of the game he loved so much. His face was weathered by sun and late nights, but not as old as his years. The extra weight he carried was striking to anyone who saw him three decades ago, but then again, that’s life.

We should all be so lucky as to get old.

So Pete, is it OK if we talk some baseball?

“Sure,” he said. “Come on over and sit down.”

Finally, some baseball talk with a guy who still loves the game as much now than he ever did. Here was a guy who knew a little about it, too. Judging by the photos of other folks displayed behind the table that also made the pilgrimage to see the man (Roger Clemens, Li’l Jon, Paris Hilton, Ice-T, etc., etc.) it appeared as if I came to the right place.

Charlie Hustle

“I watch more baseball than anyone I know,” said Pete Rose, without a trace of self-doubt. “I live out west so the East Coast games are on at 4:30. The midwest games come on by 5 and then the West Coast games are on at 7:30.”

He also pointed out that he had a television set up on the table so he could watch games at work in the sports memorabilia shop called, “Field of Dreams” in the Forum Shops at Caesars Palace. So yeah, not only did he watch a lot of baseball and talk a lot about baseball, but he also capitalized off it by signing his name to baseballs, shirts, bats, photos or whatever else fans requested. After the signing, where Rose usually personalized the item before writing his name, the phrase “Hit King” and “4,256,” he invited the fan to the other side of the red ropes to sit for a picture and some peppery banter.

Sorry, he signs “Charlie Hustle” only on Cincinnati Reds jerseys.

After being told that a man requesting a signature and photo was named Lester, Rose said, “Lester? Lester the Molester?” Then he turned to the man’s wife and said, “She’ll never tell.”

Needless to say, the couple and Rose had grins ear-to-ear for the camera phone photo.

With the ropes and the table, it was almost as if customers showed up at the zoo and were allowed to hop in the cage.

So between autographs, photo sessions, the occasional handshake and call on the iPhone, we sat there talking about baseball. More specifically, we sat there on the other side of the ropes and talked about the Phillies. Along the way various other tangential topics arose from the serious – such as his suspension from baseball, steroids, his prison term for income tax evasion and the global economic crisis and how it relates to baseball – to the absurd – such as how no one in prison admitted guilt (“When I was in there there were 245 guys in there, but I was the only one who was guilty. They all told me their bleeping story, but I was the only one who was guilty.”) and his job as a prisoner at the United States Penitentiary in Marion, Ill.

Talk about traveling all over the map – we redrew the borders. And yes, the irony about talking to Pete Rose in a shop at Caesars Palace was not lost.

“When I was in there it was the only Level 6 [federal prison] in the entire system in the U.S.,” Rose said about his jail term. “I had to work in the main prison. I had to go every day and the people in Marion were in the cage 23 out of 24 hours a day. We were the only camp who didn’t have cable TV, because then every bleeper in there would have had to have it in every cell.

“I worked in the welding department. My job was to have the bleeping hot chocolate made by 8:15 a.m. every day. That was my bleeping job. And every time the warden was coming back [to the welding department] they had me back as far back as I could go. Because I was a high-profile guy. They’d also say, ‘The old man is on the way back,’ and every time he came back I was in my little kitchen sweeping the floor. He said, ‘Pete, you know something, this is the cleanest damn floor in this entire prison. Because every time I come back there you’re sweeping this damn kitchen.’ I said, ‘Hey, I gotta keep it clean!’

“A couple years ago we we’re selling Pete Rose cookies with a company out of St. Louis. The only place you could get these cookies is in prison. They can’t sell them in a supermarket. A couple years ago I went to North Carolina for a convention of all the commissaries and all the wardens came. That warden came and got my autograph.

“I should have signed the broom for him.”

“Better yet,” I added. “You could have signed it from the ‘Sweep King.’”

Yeah, it was a bona fide chuckle fest.

But the intent was to talk only baseball. That’s it.

Look, by now everyone has heard Rose’s story and has formulated an opinion. There are no more surprises, spins, stories or theories. Pete Rose bet on baseball. As we sat there in Caesars Palace, he looked straight into my eyes and told me that he bet on his team every night.

“That’s how much confidence I had in my team,” he said.

I certainly didn’t show up in Las Vegas to get an admission from Pete Rose. Nor did I show up to kick dirt on the biggest pariah in the history of professional sports or listen to him state his case. Everyone gets it by now, and even though I told Rose I believed his suspension was proper, it does seem odd to note that if he had committed murder he might have served his sentence by now.

“I just want a second chance,” he said, sticking to his mantra. “I’ve been suspended for 19 years already.”

“And how long did you play?”

“Twenty-four years.”

We just let that hang there for a moment.

Talking baseball

But the point was baseball, and since Rose says he watches religiously, the topic turned to the Phillies and manager Charlie Manuel, who was rewarded with a contract extension that will carry him through the 2011 season. After a rocky start as manager of the Phillies, even Rose was impressed with how far Manuel had come to win over the fans.

“I can see how they didn’t like him in Philadelphia at first,” Rose said. “He made some moves that no one understood but him. But give him credit. His team likes him and they play for him. That’s the hardest thing to do. Look, I managed and I know that a team takes the personality of the manager. He keeps them relaxed so they can play. He takes all on the media and the fans and lets them do their jobs."

Managing is tough, Rose said, so he has an appreciation for Rose was able to accomplish.

“As a manager you have to have one set of rules for all 25 guys,” he said. “But you have to treat each guy individually. When I was managing and I said we have batting practice at 5, you better be there at 4:30.”

Charlie had a few issues with tardiness from shortstop Jimmy Rollins.

“I don’t get that. Rollins is a great player,” Rose said. “He must not like the game.”

Told Rollins is an astute student of the game and its history, particularly the Negro Leagues, Rose had a quick reply.

“I guess he doesn’t want to be in the clubhouse.”

Rose admitted he didn’t know so much about the modern-day big league clubhouses, since his ban from the game prohibits him from so much as attending a game without purchasing a ticket. In fact, he expressed surprise when a friend with the Astros organization told him the team employs a chef for the clubhouse. He also couldn’t get over how far technology had become entwined in the modern game.

“I got 4,256 hits and I never hit a ball off a tee and I never watched myself hit on video,” he said. “Neither did Babe Ruth or Hank Aaron.”

But Chase Utley does. Tirelessly. Rose likes Utley and allowed himself a little laugh when told about Utley’s speech at Citizens Bank Park following the World Series victory parade. Rose appreciates how Utley played much of the 2008 season through a hip injury that was worse than he let on, though the Hit King noted the price.

“He’s paying now if he’s out through May," he said. "But I guess he got his ring so it’s OK.”

But Rose does not understand Utley’s reluctance to open up to the media about himself or baseball. Different personalities, perhaps. Rose was an open book and revealed all even when he was keeping a secret about his gambling on baseball. One of the secrets to the success of those juggernaut Phillies teams in Rose’s day was that he was the one who stood up and took on the media. With sensitive personalities like Steve Carlton and Mike Schmidt on the club, Rose was the go-to guy for a quote or some insight. By doing that, he took the pressure off the team’s best players.

Rose simply did not understand why Utley refused to talk to the media during his 35-game hitting streak during the 2006 season. Not talking about baseball is just a foreign concept to him. Worse, he says, fans – particularly kids – don’t get a chance to know their heroes without some type of media insight.

“Kids might want to know more about baseball and they will listen to what a guy like Chase Utley has to say,” Rose said. “But when he’s up there all he says is, ‘Yep.’”

Rose always has time for the fans, it appeared. He was genuine, easy going, friendly, a kidder and bawdy. He sang a few bars of “Oh Canada,” to a couple from Saskatchewan, asked a man in a cowboy hat if he was in town for the rodeo and talked about boxer Manny Pacquiao with a woman from the Philippines.

When told that he was good at interacting with people, Rose agreed.

“Yes, I am,” he said.

Alone with the fans

Still, there was a sense of sadness in the room. A burden of sorts. All Rose wanted to do was be a part of baseball again. Just next door from where Rose sat, his old friends gathered to compare notes and get to know each other away from the diamond. Joe Morgan was there. So was Rose’s former pupil Eric Davis. It wasn’t uncommon to see Lou Piniella and Tony LaRussa chatting in a hallway or scouts and agents lined up at the craps tables.

But Rose was left alone with his Sharpies and the curiosity seekers behind the red rope and long, narrow table.

Sad. Not sadness in a condescending way, but in truest sense of the word. Sad because a man who had accomplished so much was now reduced to shaking hands and signing his name while his old friends got to be on the inside of the game that defined him for all of his life.

“I don't mind working,” said Rose, noting that he drove from his home in Los Angeles to Las Vegas 15 times a month to work at Field of Dreams. He also seems to genuinely enjoy interacting with baseball fans. It is the fans, after all, that keep him tethered to the game.

“Baseball needs the fans,” he said. “Without the fans, what’s the point?”

When asked if he saw any of his old teammates or friends from baseball this week, Rose said one person made it over.

“Dave Raymond,” he said. “Do you know who he was?”

The original Phillie Phanatic.

Rose likes his life, he said. He goes to all the big fights in town, he watches baseball and he gets to meet new people every day. He gets to talk about the game, though. He’s also hoping to open up a steakhouse in Vegas, soon. Maybe, just maybe, baseball will allow him to formally ask for a second chance.

That’s not too bad.

At quitting time, Rose stacked the pens, bundled them and put them away. The assistants who snap pictures for the fans and give the memorabilia to sign slipped out of their Cincinnati Reds’ shirts and tidied up. Rose got up, gathered his things in a small bag and walked with me to the door.

We shook hands and I thanked him for his time and the stories. Especially the stories.

“Just quote me accurately,” he said.

Then he turned and walked down the ornately decorated shopping mall toward his car for the drive back to Los Angeles.

Closing up shop

LAS VEGAS – It had already been a long day. With nearly every agent representing all of the top free agents as well as every general manager in Major League Baseball traveling from a hospitality suite to the lobby area of The Bellagio yesterday, the media-types working the angles and looking for any glint of information were already exhausted. There was no way to process any more of the fodder for posting on the web or talking on TV.

The only thing most people wanted to do was get a hot shower and a hot meal.

At least that’s the way I felt. Finally able to adjourn the media workroom after waiting for Ronny Paulino or Jason Jaramillo to pass a physical (yeah, so glamorous) so that Phils’ GM Ruben Amaro Jr. could announce Wednesday’s trade, the plan  was to clean up and take a breather before catching up with my old work friends from work Leslie Gudel, Neil Slotkin and Matt Yallof.

Matt had already been up at the crack reporting on the CC Sabathia deal with the Yankees for SportsNet-New York on Wednesday and was understandably cooked. Yet, as I was looking for the exits, Matt came barreling around the corner with his tie askew, BlackBerry hanging from his hand like a six-shooter, hair no longer meticulously crafted and tired eyes pleading for a break that wasn’t coming.

“Whoa… where are you going in a hurry?”

“Yeah, I don’t think I can make it tonight.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The Mets just made a three-team, 12-player trade with the Mariners and the Indians. Minaya is on his way down.”

“You’re kidding?”

“Wish I was.”

“Oh man. When is this day going to end?”

“No time soon.”

Who would have ever thought that talking, walking and writing could be so tiring? No, it’s not digging ditches or anything like that, but everything is relative. Making the scene at the schmooze fest that is the baseball Winter Meetings can wear you out. Just ask the Phillies’ brass who tirelessly worked around the clock to put together a deal before jetting back to Philadelphia.

Hey, it takes a while to get a guy like Ronny Paulino.

Nevertheless, while joshing with Amaro before the TV/web-only availability the other day, I asked the GM how the tables had been treating him in Las Vegas.

“So Ruben, how much are you up?”

“Twenty-four. I’ve been up 24 hours.”

I believe him. He looked like he’d been up all night working all the angles.

Now he gets to go home with Ronny Paulino.

More schmooze

One of the highlights of the Winter Meetings was getting the chance to chat a bit with former big-league All-Stars Eric Davis and Ellis Burks. Davis, of course, was a star for the World Champion Reds in 1990 and famously returned from colon cancer in the late 1990s to put together a few more successful seasons before retiring in 2001.

During his prime many thought that Davis might be the first ballplayer to put together a 50-50 season, but injuries robbed him of too many games.

So after being introduced to Davis I reminded him of a home run I witnessed at Camden Yards at the tail end of the 1993 season when he was playing for Detroit.

“The ball was still on its way up by the time it hit the batters’ eye,” I said.

“Yep,” Davis said. “Arthur Rhodes. It was a 2-1 pitch. Slider.”

Who is he, Rain Man?

These days Burks works for the Cleveland Indians as an advisor, but during his days as a player Burks clubbed 352 homers and batted .291. A strong case could be made that Burks should have been the NL MVP in 1996 over Ken Caminiti.

Anyone who gets a chance to listen to Charlie Manuel talk about hitting and his days as manager with the Indians has heard an Ellis Burks story or two. When informed that Charlie still speaks highly of him and asked if he had any favorite memories of playing for Manuel, Burks launched into one of the finer impressions of the Phillies’ manager.

Burks also talked about his days with the Red Sox and his teammate, John Marzano, who died after a fall in his home last April and a man Burks referred to as his best friend on the team.

“He was just fun guy. I miss him a lot,” Burks said.

More coming?

One of the most interesting developments on Thursday morning was watching teems of GMs, scouts, players and agents hurry to the taxi queue and a ride to the airport immediately following the Rule 5 Draft. It almost looked as if it were the last day of school and all the kids where pouring out of the building as fast as they could just to get away from the place.

Even most of the Phillies’ traveling party had left Las Vegas on Thursday morning, Amaro and a few other execs were sticking around an extra day in order to continue working.

Hey, who knows? Maybe he’ll come home with Nick Punto, too.

Charlie Hustler

Stopped by the Forum Shops in Caesar's Palace this morning with the hope of catching up with Pete Rose. The most infamous ballplayer alive and the ex-Phillies and Reds great spends some time in a memorabilia store where he signs autographs and chats with the fans.

However, Pete rolls in during the afternoon and wasn't around during the visit. He has my digits though... he'll call to chat, right?

"I felt like I had the flu again."

- Charlie Manuel when asked how he felt after learning that the Mets had acquired closer Francisco Rodriguez and J.J. Putz on the same day.

Changing course

LAS VEGAS – It’s not all that uncommon for one to wake up in the morning here in the capital of excess and phoniness with the feeling that one of those big tractor trailers hauling pigs, septic waste and all the ancillary by-products just drove over one’s legs. It happens all the time. In fact, it’s the main reason why a lot of people purchase plane tickets and spend money on themed hotel rooms* and travel to the edge of the desert.

Yet at the same time it’s not all that uncommon for folks to come to Vegas and contently head down a particular path – maybe lined with primroses, gilly flowers and lilacs – before suddenly and inexplicably changing course.

Hey, Vegas will do that to you. Those sirens have sweet voices and they make those free comps look a lot more valuable than they really are. It’s with that in mind when we consider the developments of the latest CC Sabathia developments.

Though Dodgers’ general manager (and Philly guy) Ned Colletti said that CC said that he wanted to play for LA, and despite the fact that the burly lefty was building his new home in Southern California to be close to his family, those sweet-sounding sirens got to him. CC just couldn’t get those voices out of his head. They taunted him, challenged his manhood even. They told him that everything would be OK. They would pat him on the back and lift him up and dust him off if he fell. They’d whisper sweet lullabies in his ear when he had second doubts about every decision to make. It’s always sunny in Los Angeles, but not the South Bronx.

Still, the song remains the same…

If you can make it there, you’ll make it anywhere…

So last night as the gang congregated at the Baccarat Bar just off the main lobby at The Bellagio last night to pass around information and stories as if they were flakes of confetti, Sabathia and the Yankees brass were somewhere ironing out the details of a seven-year deal worth $160 million.

So much for a tough economy (which is a topic we’ll delve into this week). Nevertheless, the details of the pact will be announced after Sabathia passes a physical.

Never has the phrase, “turn your head and cough” sounded sweeter to New Yorkers.

But as they say, sometimes the tidal wave is caused by the tiniest of ripples, and vice versa (or vise-a versa as Jim Thome and my uncles used to say). This time the waves could be felt down the Delaware River tributaries to Philadelphia where the team’s pitching staff might come into clearer focus.

You see, with Sabathia getting all the money in New York, right-hander Derek Lowe likely will no longer be an option for the Yankees. That means the Phillies could be in good position to sign Lowe up for the next couple of years.

According to a few of the friendly people we spoke to at The Bellagio this week, the Phillies and the Yankees were the two teams working the hardest to woo Lowe. But unlike the Yankees, the Phillies might not have the years or the cash to properly entice Lowe to bring his sinker to cozy CBP. That’s because Lowe is reported to be seeking a five-year deal worth $80 million and the Phillies rarely offer more than three years to pitchers. Sure, they can make an exception here or there, but will they for Derek Lowe? More importantly, if Jamie Moyer and the Phillies can reach a compromise on contract talks(Moyer is asking for two-years and $18 million and the Phillies have offered two- years and $14 million), where does that leave Lowe?

But, if the Phillies are able to get Lowe, don't count on the team also trying to re-sign Moyer. At the same time, if Moyer re-signs, the pursuit of Lowe likely will end, too.

“If we were to get a pitcher of that ilk, we would probably allow one of our kids battle it out for the last spot on the rotation,” Phillies general manager Ruben Amaro Jr. told us kids from Comcast SportsNet last night. “But at this point we're not sure how big that possibility is. We’re trying to do a variety of things.”

But most of those involve hanging out in a hospitality suite on the 31st floor of The Bellagio where Ruben and his Vegas crew gather around a dry erase board (always turned away from prying eyes when folks like us stop by for a visit) with a fresh supply of fruit, diet cokes and Odwalla Bars.

Meanwhile, here come the rumors Apparently the Indians have agreed to a two-year deal with closer Kerry Wood. OK, I’ll say it… the Indians have Wood. … oh yeah, that three-way deal with Jake Peavy, Mark DeRosa, the Padres, the Cubs, the Orioles, the Phillies and maybe even the Council of Cardinals at the Vatican – still very much alive. The Phillies are working hard at it, which means they will likely exhaust the supply of Odwalla Bars by noon today.
On the docket Today is the annual manager’s luncheon where folks like us media types have a couple of gin-rickies, maybe a salad, sandwich and a broth soup and talk ball. Should be a good time.

Speaking of a good time, Charlie Manuel will hold court this afternoon. He was supposed to do it yesterday, but spent the day in his room recovering from the flu.

More updates coming… check back.

----- * How about this for a new Vegas hotel theme... Vegas! Why not? Isn’t the entire city a parody of itself anyway?

Hey, let's chat...

LAS VEGAS – When the baseball bunch showed up at The Bellagio on Monday morning to kick off the annual Winter Meetings, the biggest grumbles were from the media types complaining about the dearth of activity.

Oh what a difference a day makes.

Tuesday morning the contingent in Vegas woke up to the news that the Padres and Cubs were close to ironing out the much-ballyhooed Jake Peavy trade with the Phillies also in the mix; CC Sabathia expressed a desire to pitch for the Dodgers; and the hated Mets were preparing to close a deal with save machine Francisco Rodriguez.

Yes, the Mets finally have a legit closer.

That’s three National League teams making some big moves while the World Champion Phillies kept the dialogue going.

But sometimes all talk and no action isn’t all that bad. In the Phillies’ case the chit-chatter might be the ground work for a move before the team heads home on Thursday. Of course it’s all speculative right now, which is the beauty of the Winter Meetings. There’s a bona fide cottage industry in all this banter – some of it which might even be true.

As far as the Phillies go, it appears as if they really aren’t in the mix for Peavy after all. However, the team apparently is still interested in utility infielder Nick Punto as well as Penn alum Mark DeRosa.

Who knows what else we’ll be talking about by the end of today.

Seen and heard

Our spies say ex-Phillie farmhand Kris Benson and his wife, Anna, were walking through the corridors at The Bellagio on Monday night. Phillies outfielder and post-season hero Shane Victorino also was making the scene for a brief moment, too. … Hall of Famer Nolan Ryan just walked by this second (10:50 a.m. PST).  … Phils’ manager Charlie Manuel is nursing a bit of an ailment and will not be able to hold court at his media availability this afternoon. … Rays' manager Joe Maddon -- that guy is everywhere! ... Winter Meetings veterans say more players have showed up at this year’s get together than in recent memory. The official reason, of course, is that many of them are seeking work (Luis Gonzalez, Frank Thomas and all of the big-name free agents). But seriously, how is going to pass up a trip to Vegas in December?

That's just Vegas

They say that if you stick around long enough you just might see everything. Spend a week in Las Vegas and you might see everything by midweek. For longtime friend of CSNPhilly.com, Howard Bryant of ESPN, the trip to Vegas gave him a chance to cross off another been-there-done-that experience from his checklist.

You see, Howie got to town last week in order to write about the sentencing in the O.J. Simpson kidnapping and what he saw was pure Vegas.

After the sentencing was handed down, Howie walked out of the courthouse to see a man dressed as Elvis giving TV interviews on whether justice had been served. Standing next to Elvis was someone dressed in a Wonder Woman outfit.

Elvis and Wonder Woman making media appearances is undoubtedly odd, but the most surreal scene occurred inside the courtroom where Howie sat in the jury box and watched O.J., dressed in the county blues, be led out by the marshals with his hands cuffed behind his back and leg irons around his ankles.

Hangin' 'em up

What is with the dirty looks from the folks at the craps table when I throw the dice and scream, “Yahtze!” just before they tumble over on to the hard eight?

LAS VEGAS – Everyone has a Greg Maddux story. Better yet, everyone has a Greg Maddux story that involves loud, bawdy laughter with punch lines that are often not repeatable in mixed company or fit for print.

The guy has the most interesting and warped sense of humor in the game, which is enough to make him the all time favorite of this little corner of this web site.

More importantly, Maddux is also known as the game’s best ambassadors. Low key and unassuming, Maddux doesn’t bowl people over with his presence in the physical sense. However, when he enters a room of baseball people everyone knows it. His teammates adore him and he always seems to have time for the fans and the press for a good quote or one of those stories he’s famous for.

As it turned out, Greg Maddux’s last appearance in a Major League game came at Dodger Stadium in a relief role against the Phillies during the NLCS. Even then, in his last game, it looked as if Maddux, at 42, could pitch a few more seasons. Last year he made at least 30 starts for the 20th season in the last 22. Had it not been for the two strike-shortened seasons, it would have been a perfect 22-for-22.

He never got hurt, never skipped a start and never changed. It was a career that was so eerily consistent that it was almost boring. Think about it -- every year you knew Maddux was going to pitch every five days no matter what. There was no drama or any of that silliness. Just good pitching and good humor.

With 355 career wins and every other award and accomplishment on his ledger, Maddux officially announced his retirement on Monday afternoon at The Bellagio.  And just like everything else during his sure Hall-of-Fame career, Maddux delivered the goods.

“I never changed,” he said in summing up his career. “I think, ‘Hey, you can locate your fastball and you change speeds no matter who is hitting strikes or what is going on around you.’”

Maddux took special pride in mentoring young players, but made sure that the lessons weren’t one sided or exclusive to just the players on his team. Just this past season, in fact, Maddux famously took Phillies pitcher Kyle Kendrick aside during batting practice before a game in San Diego and schooled the kid on the finer points of pitching. Sure enough, the lesson was absorbed and Kendrick went out and beat Maddux in their next start.

Maddux says he was learning all the way up to the very end of his career.

“I just think the best way to learn is to screw up and not do it again,” Maddux said. “I think it’s OK to make mistakes. Hopefully you learn by it and you don’t make those mistakes again. I think it’s the easiest way to learn.”

Why the Hall not?

Speaking of the Hall of Fame, the Major League Baseball Veterans Committee announced the results in the balloting for enshrinement and once again the club is quite exclusive.

Former Yankee second baseman Joe Gordon was the only man elected to the Hall on Monday in a pair of votes from committees that selected players whose careers began before 1943 and one that focused on players who played after 1943.

On the pre-1943 side, former Yankee Allie Reynolds just missed out on the Hall of Fame by just one vote. Former Phillie Sherry Magee received just 25 percent of the ballots cast, while Mickey Vernon, the recently departed native of Marcus Hook, Pa. (and Harry Kalas’ boyhood hero), got 41.7 percent.

In the post-1943 election, no one came close. Once again Ron Santo fell way short garnering just 60.9 percent while ex-Phillie Jim Kaat finished second with 59.4 percent. The other notable miss was Dick Allen who got just 10.9 percent. Of the 10 ex-players that received votes, Allen got the fewest.

Rumors, rumors and rumors

Here’s what you waited for:

The Cubs are said to be in the hunt to sign free agent Bobby Abreu. … The Mets meet with closers Brian Fuentes and Trevor Hoffman today. Mets’ COO Jeffrey Wilpon was in on the talks with Francisco Rodriguez last night which reportedly lasted over four hours. The Mets are also interested in starting pitcher Jon Garland. … The Cardinals, Mets and Phillies have talked to right-hander A.J. Burnett. ... Charlie Manuel is here. Whispers are that he was cleaning up at the craps tables. We will attempt to get verification on that one this afternoon.

Tough times

Here comes the only sure thing in town this week: Whatever happens in Vegas will land on this web site. How the business and convention center missed that line for its ad campaign is baffling.

LAS VEGAS – The business of baseball is in full bloom. Better than that, Major League Baseball is very profitable. Actually, profitable is the wrong word. The folks from MLB were seen at the lobby bar at The Bellagio lighting cigars with $50 bills. Walk up to anyone not employed by MLB this week and most sentences are peppered with the phrase, “… they made 6.6 billion dollars last year!”

Things are going so well for MLB that they took over the posh hotel The Bellagio for its annual meetings.

Yet MLB.com, the burgeoning web site and veritable clearing house for the league, the players union and the 30 teams, decided to lay off one of its writers last week. Yeah, even though Commissioner Bud Selig and his staff get together in his suite for a nightly “money fight,” MLB decided to eliminate some jobs.

Never mind that MLB is set to launch its own television network on Jan. 1, that $6.6 billion just ain’t getting it done.

Incidentally, the one writer MLB laid off wrote about the team that just won the World Series. Times must be really tough if a $6.6 billion industry is cutting a guy from its championship team.

It’s not just MLB either. Gannett, the newspaper chain that owns USA Today as well as local papers the Wilmington News Journal and Camden Courier Post just announced significant layoffs. At Camden that meant two of the guys that wrote about the World Series-winning ballclub were sent away with a gift card and a severance package. The paper’s Eagles’ writer was let go days before the football team played in their biggest game of the season.

The strange thing about all of this isn’t that the economy is bad, because that very much is a factor in these moves. The wacky part is that in 2007 the News Journal had a profit margin over 25 percent, while the Courier Post limped in at nearly 10 percent.

Think the auto industry wouldn’t take numbers like that?

So last week we had the big three automakers sitting before Congress to ask for $700 billion. If they didn’t get it, the execs warned the lawmakers, they just might have to lay off some workers. Meanwhile, flush companies like newspapers and the National Pastime just don’t get it.

Needless to say the gallows humor is in full force at the Winter Meetings. Every few minutes or so the scribes walk past one another and ask about one another’s employment status on the hour.

“It’s a blood bath,” one veteran baseball writer said.

Phillies stuff

Ruben Amaro Jr. and his gang are in meetings all Monday morning and won’t meet with the Philadelphia contingent until 4:30 p.m. local time. Meanwhile, reports are the negotiations with pitcher Jamie Moyer are not going very well. The big hang up appears to be over money, a development Amaro described as “disappointing.”

Moyer just completed a two-year $9.5 million deal with the Phillies and led the team in wins in ’08 and would have been in line for a hefty raise had the team offered him arbitration.

There is a little story from The Daily News about the Phils "talking" about outfielder and top draft pick Delmon Young. Another rumor is a little more interesting that kind of involves the Phillies…

Apparently MLB wants to have day-games in the World Series after the weather-based debacles of Games 3 and 5 at Citizens Bank Park last October. MLB pitched the idea to broadcast rights older Fox, who balked at the idea initially until a compromise, reportedly, was struck.

Yes, it appears as if there will be a daytime World Series game in 2009. The start time: 5 p.m. in the east.

That’s a day game?

Comings and goings…

The Mets met with record-breaking closer Francisco Rodriguez last night and plan to meet with “every available closer” this week in Vegas. … The Tigers and Rangers made the first trade of the week when Texas shipped catcher Gerald Laird to Detroit for right-handed pitching prospects, Guillermo Moscoso and Carlos Melo.

As of this writing, Greg Maddux is holding his retirement press-conference about 30 yards in front of me… check back around 4 or so with another update.

The winter meetings are neither in winter nor are actual meetings... discuss

We were somewhere near Barstow by the time… wait, that wasn’t me. LAS VEGAS – Strangely, the baseball winter meetings have never been held in the capital of all that is decadent, gaudy, glittery and, well… tacky, ever. It’s a fact that seems a bit unbelievable at first because baseball, baseball players and baseball front office types blend in quite well in places like Las Vegas.

Monte Carlo, not so much. But Vegas is a perfect match.

If it were up to the people that go to things like the baseball winter meetings, Las Vegas would be the permanent venue. Of course this is being written before the actual winter meetings have even begun, but from the reports from a few of the folks that arrived in town a few days early, everyone is having a really good time.

Needless to write, everyone knows what Las Vegas is all about and everyone likes to philosophize about the meaning of the so-called Sin City as a paradigm of post-modern American culture (or something like that). But most people have no idea what actually occurs at the baseball winter meetings. Based on some of my conversations with friends not in the biz, they think that there will be actual meetings in conference rooms or auditoriums where we’ll skip out early in order to catch the early-bird special at the buffet and the lounge act in the hotel bar.

Nope. Not even close. The “winter meetings” is a classic misnomer like “global warming” or “jumbo shrimp.” Basically it’s a time where front-office types, media people, job hunters, carneys, agents and the worst of the bunch – baseball writers – can meet under one roof for an entire week in order to barter in information. The best part is that it’s completely lo-fi in that the best way to get information is to have an actual conversation with someone.

And where does it all take place? Well, in a hotel lobby, of course.

It’s all about the lobby… The first places most folks look for when they are on the road and far from home and need a little action are the bars and/or the hotel lobby. Everyone knows what goes on in a bar so there isn't much need for explanation there, but the hotel lobby - specifically if it also has a bar - is like Bourbon Street during Mardi Gras, Times Square during rush hour, and Broad Street during a parade.

At least that's the way it is during the baseball winter meetings.

Essentially, that's what the winter meetings are... it's like Spring Break only no one goes topless. Or, it's like the South by Southwest Music conference in Austin, Tx. only not cool. Come on, think about it - how cool could it be? This year’s winter meetings are being held in a resort where the over-60 set lines up around the block to see Bette Midler.

That being the case, a cavalcade of baseball writers, general managers, those hep cats from ESPN, and a bunch of job-seeking wannabe baseball flaks all under one roof... do we have to get into why that's the epitome of uncool?

OK. First there are the baseball writers, who easily are the angriest and most frustrated group of people on the planet. They're all burnt out from long hours spent at the ballpark and ridiculous travel itineraries for eight months. Better yet, the best way to really drive one of those guys crazy it to say: “Hey, at least it beats a real job, right?”

The necessary response to that:

Punch, drink, cry.

As far as the hipness factor goes, I can only speak reasonably knowledgably about the Philadelphia crew and let's just say TMZ.com doesn't have a group of photogs staking out the gang. For one thing, one of the guys used to be an actor in Renaissance Faires and, no, he wasn't even something somewhat cool as the knight on horseback in the joust ring. Nope, he was a pawn in the chess game and it wasn't like the one in Mel Brooks' History of the World Part I.

Scarily enough, it gets much worse than that. But in the interest in protecting the guilty...

Aw, forget it.

The geeks love online poker, one dork is into long-distance running, another went by the stage name “Todd Cougar,” and still another is pining for a long-ago shorn mullet. What sane person would agree to spend a summer surrounded by a group like that?

But there they are – trolling the lobby at The Bellagio listening to the tall tales and truth stretching that goes on whenever baseball folks get together. Actually, it's really not all that different than any other time spent during a summer afternoon only there isn't a game to be played later in the evening and no one has to drive anywhere, which heightens the stakes a bit. Think about it – who goes to Spring Break and rents a car? Probably no one. So if the plan is to get the scribes, GMs, job seekers and hangers on all under one roof it will lessen the load for the local law enforcement and make the scene into how it must have been to cover the Mint 400 motorcycle race in the desert around Vegas in the early 1970s.

If Raoul Duke and his Samoan attorney roll into the lobby of The Bellagio, everyone should leave – or  keep tabs on the grapefruits.

Anyway, the GMs are the reason why everyone gets together for the week. Really, what other reason is there? In a baseball organization, the GM is where the proverbial buck stops. Actually, it's better than that. The GM is where the information originates and information (not knowledge) is the commodity everyone has traveled to Las Vegas and camped out in The Bellagio for. Think about it – is there another resource more important than information? It's better than gold and almost as good as oil and it's the reason why ESPN and Yahoo! are snapping up all the top hunter/gatherers in the info set for a premium. It's also why ESPN has set up something of its own little Green Zone inside of The Bellagio – information. It's the king.

That means the GM-types are the kingmakers. And like any good crowner of things that get crowned, the GM is coquettish as all get-out. You know how the scribes like to cite "sources" in all those rumor mill-type stories folks wolf down like hamsters to pellets? Well, apparently those "sources" have access to the inner sanctum. They might actually know the GM well enough to collect crumbs of information here and there before running off to feed it to the gluttonous writer-types and their panting public.

Yet even though the general managers from all across baseball will be making the scene at The Bellagio, it's not as if their presence boosts the hipness factor. Actually, unless one thinks those Hawaiian/Tommy Bahama-type shirts are “cool,” then rollin' with the GMs is the way to go. After all, this is a set of people who take their cues on coolness from Spuds McKenzie. Imagine that... instead of covering South by Southwest where one could hang out at the hotel and talk shop with Deerhoof, the writers are left to chase down old men who look as if they just got in from the hunt. Instead of Elvis Costello they get a guy dressed like Elvis.

Incidentally, why is that Elvis impersonators are usually always the fat Elvis?

Apparently, though, there is one GM who is considered cool, but that's because at 34, Theo Epstein is approximately 40 years younger than all of his counterparts. Epstein is also considered cool because he plays guitar in a cover band called Trouser or something ambiguous like that. Come to think about it, the band's name could be the most undetailed thing happening with Epstein. After all, a name like Trouser (if that is, in fact, the name) doesn't befit a devotee of Sabermetrics.

Sabermetrics, of course, is the baseball philosophy that likes to take all the life and intrigue out of a sport and assign it cold, hard spots on a sheet of graph paper or an excel spreadsheet. “Enough of the thinking,” they say, “give me data.”

We exaggerate because it’s fun.

Nothing ambiguous like human nature... we need undeniable information! Nevertheless, Trouser is a cover band that plays cover songs of cover songs, which, frankly, is about as low on the musical food chain as one can go. In fact, it's the Renaissance Faire of the musical word -- the pawn in the chess game instead of the knight in the phony joust.

Then again, maybe the baseball winter meetings are nothing more than a phony joust, too. Oh sure, actual work gets done and trades/deals are made. In fact, Ruben Amaro Jr., the new GM of the Phillies, says he hopes to leave Las Vegas and The Bellagio with a pitcher to add to the roster.

Meanwhile, a few of the scribes hope to leave Vegas with one of those cowgirls in town for the National Rodeo Championships this week.

Next edition(s) on Monday: The scene, the rumors, the deals and O.J.

Army-Navy flashback

Dressed in specially-designed camouflage helmets and uniforms, the Army football team had a difficult time with its passing game in the 34-0 loss to Navy in the 109th version of the classic rivalry. No wonder... with the receivers dressed in camo how could the quarterback see them down field? Laughing it up with The Mayor

You can always tell who the really cool guys are by the things they laugh at. A sense of humor, after all, is not a trait everyone possesses. In fact, humor affects everyone as differently as broccoli or Brussels sprouts.

Trust me, I know.

A good sense of humor, an easy affability and a hearty, Wilfred Brimley-esque laugh are like magic. They are like magnets that draw a crowd wherever they go or decide to hold court. On Saturday afternoon in the press box at Lincoln Financial Field during the Army-Navy game, Philadelphia mayor Michael Nutter showed off an easy laugh and the knowledge to pick on an attempt at a joke.

Hey, who doesn’t like a guy like that?

So after deftly handling questions from some sports scribes on the future of the Army-Navy game in the city and its economic impact, Mayor Nutter was cornered by a smart-aleck (me) with a not-so serious question about the state of Philly sports.

“Mr. Mayor,” I asked earnestly. “Could you give me your thoughts on the championship drought in the city? We’re approaching 40 days without a title, and frankly, there are a lot of people ready for another parade. It's been long enough.”

Rather than give that all-too familiar curious look – kind of like when a dog sees itself in the mirror and just doesn’t know how to think or react – the mayor smiled and let loose with a boisterous and bawdy laugh.

Actually, Mayor Nutter has a tremendous laugh. It’s natural and easy. The “ha-has” come out loud and happy, but not obnoxious. It’s a genuine laugh that’s not forced or put on. The mayor is totally organic with the yucks and it feels good. Better yet, it comes with a good pound on the shoulder followed by another slap to the arm with his right hand. As he walks on to the next place he has to be (he is a busy guy, after all), the mayor leaves with a few quips of his own laughing that laugh the whole time.

“Ask me that if it takes another 25 years,” he said. “We’re doing OK these days.”
Shipping out?

As far as the future of the Army-Navy game in Philadelphia goes, Mayor Nutter said the city will be “aggressive” in its attempts to keep the game at Lincoln Financial Field after 2009.

As it stands, Philadelphia has bid against 2007 host Baltimore; East Rutherford, N.J.; Foxborough, Mass.; Landover, Md.; Indianapolis and Pittsburgh.

There’s only one natural choice amongst those cities, according to Nutter.

“People know that the Army-Navy game is a Philadelphia tradition and belongs in Philadelphia,” Nutter said. “Many of the folks who are in leadership positions now were in the service and came to the Army-Navy game in Philadelphia. They have brought their families and some of them, their children are in the stands right now, or are out on the field playing.”

Philadelphia has hosted 81 of the 109 Army-Navy games in four different stadiums (Franklin Field, JFK, the Vet and the Linc). New York City has hosted the classic 11 times with Baltimore and East Rutherford serving as the site of the game four times apiece.

The best reason for the Army-Navy game to stay at the Linc? How about all that cash.

“Over 50,000 vistors come to Philadelphia [and] every hotel in the city is sold out,” Nutter said. “There are more hotel rooms in downtown Philadelphia than [in] any other city that's trying to compete against us.”

Plus, excluding the occasional World Series game or NCAA Tournament stop, Army-Navy puts the fannies in the seats all over town.

“I think in terms of any one game, other than probably the World Series with the Phillies, I don't know that there's any ballgame that brings as many outsiders to Philadelphia, especially in terms of our hotel and restaurant activity,” Nutter said.

Funny ha-ha Speaking of funny, President George W. Bush showed up on Saturday for his third Army-Navy game during his presidency (no, that’s not the funny part) to mix with the Cadets and Midshipmen, give a pep talk to the ballclubs, and toss the coin before the game.

In that role, the President came through. Take a look:

But what is missing from the video was the President’s most stellar and genuinely humorous moment. As he was walking that walk of his out to midfield to deliver the coin toss, the President made a slight detour at the 30-yard line toward a ball teed up and ready to go for the opening kickoff. Suddenly, Bush approached the ball and in his best Lou “The Toe” Groza imitation, placed a black-shoed boot on one that fluttered 15 yards for a nearly perfect onside kick.

It’s a wonder he didn’t make a run after it to make the recovery.

The President, along with Secretary of Defense Robert Gates, didn’t stick around to watch the entire game.  Instead he returned to Air Force One at Philadelphia International to get back to his lame-ducking.

Ballot stuffing Navy senior Shun White was voted the MVP of the game on the strength of a 148 yards rushing on 13 carries and a pair of touchdown. One of those TDs came on a 65-yard dash in the opening quarter to give Navy a quick 7-0 lead.

But upon further examination of the media ballots on Saturday, one voter cast his tally for "that plucky (W)hite kid." Whether the "White" was meant as an adjective or proper noun is open for debate. Either way, it seemed to be the right call.

Along with White, Midshipman running back Eric Kettani carried the ball 24 times for 125 yards.
Look at the size of that thing… Speaking of Air Force One, the aircraft buzzed over top of the Linc about two hours before game time giving the pre-game tailgaters a big eye full of the most famous plane in the world.

As people on the ground munched on burgers and hotdogs and fished beverages out of big coolers in the Wachovia Center parking lot, the giant machine with, “The United States of America” emblazoned on the entire length of its side lumbered over a few thousand feet over The Linc.

The thing was huge. As it dipped its wings and dived over South Philly on the way to the airport, the image of a flying tour bus came to mind. It was as if Bon Jovi put wings on the bus to get from gig to gig, only this was the President of the United States and his carbon footprint must look like a Sasquatch.

"Their helmets were kind of gross."

- Navy's Eric Kettani on Army's new camouflage uniforms

Man of the year

Good morning and welcome to day 36 without a championship in Philadelphia. Charlie and the Olympian

We've been touting the genius as well as the Tao (yes, the Tao!) of Phils skipper Charlie Manuel for four years now. In fact, we were so far out in front of the pack in lauding Charlie, that we have lapped everyone else. In fact, I still have copies of the nasty e-mails I received when I wrote something at the end of the 2005 season suggesting that the Phillies should give Charlie a contract extension pronto.

Needless to say it hasn't been easy for Charlie or his supporters in Philadelphia. Actually, it was April 18, 2007 when talking head Keith Olbermann told Dan Patrick of The Dan Patrick Show that Charlie's days were numbered.

To wit:

"I’m a little worried about the Phillies," Olbermann said. "What I saw there looked like chaos to me and I don’t know if it’s going to go well.

“I think Charlie Manuel is going to get fired. I think the Phillies have woefully mismanaged their pitching staff. They have starters who should be relieving and relievers who should be starting and it’s a mess. The batting order is a mistake. Pat Burrell was not the guy to bat behind Ryan Howard and it’s going to ruin Ryan Howard this season and it’s even going to hurt Chase Utley ahead of him because they’re going to pitch around Howard and Utley isn’t going to have a chance to steal bases. Wes Helms at third base might be a good hitter, but they are just now noticing that he might not be the most mobile infielder. There are a lot of problems and I’m not really sure if Charlie Manuel is a good manager.”

Man, was he ever wrong on that one.

Needless to say, winning the World Series has a way of making folks take notice of a guy. It also forces a lot of people to re-evaluate some things, though it's rare that these re-evaluators will ever admit making a boneheaded, knee-jerk reaction based largely on a bit of regional xenophobia.

Be that as it is, Sports Illustrated's Tom Verducci really stepped up and gave Charlie some big kudos. Actually, it was better than that. Verducci nominated Manuel for the magazine's prestigious "Sportsman of the Year" Award against the likes of president-elect Barack Obama, Tiger Woods, Bill Russell and Usain Bolt, amongst others. Philadelphian Bernard Hopkins also received a nomination for the award won by record-breaking gold medal winner, Michael Phelps.

Charlie's newfound celebrity isn't quite to the level of most of his fellow nominees, but the acknowledgment from SI feels like the cherry on the top of a very interesting year.

Quoth Verducci:

Charlie Manuel never won a gold medal or a manager of the year award. Never has he been called a "genius" or an "innovator." Corporate America would not prefer his kind of elocution for motivational speeches. (When asked about his famous run-in with a Philadelphia radio host, Manuel said, "I don't want to hash it.") There is nothing fancy about the guy. And that is why Manuel is my choice for Sportsman of the Year. He is a proxy for all those baseball lifers who love what they do. He also is proof that success does not require a good and honest man to change.

Manuel's story is remarkably without ego or privilege. In the western Virginia hills Manuel grew up poor and he grew up fast, especially from that day his father, Charles Sr., left a suicide note to the teenage "Fook," as his mother called him, to take care of his mama and his 10 siblings. Charlie did so by forsaking a possible college basketball scholarship to take a $20,000 bonus from the Minnesota Twins. Manuel hit .198 in 242 major league games before leaving for a prolific playing career in Japan. When Manuel, upon being hired by the Phillies to manage, was asked in a questionnaire to identify his funniest baseball moment, he replied, "My entire career as a player in the states."

Hey, who knows... maybe when ol' Charlie hits Vegas next week for the baseball winter meetings he'll find his name in all the celebrity gossip rags with Phelps. It could happen, right?

In the meantime, Charlie has a speaking gig set up in Charlottesville, Va. for Jan. 31.

Meanwhile, closer Brad Lidge showed up to visit his old alma mater in South Bend, Ind. last week, and got a little face time on the Notre Dame football network, a.k.a., NBC.

Taxpayer Stadium looking good As the hot-stove season is about to begin in earnest this weekend, bringing some new additions to a lot of big-league clubs, the hated New York Mets' new digs are coming along nicely.

Now all they need to do is come up with a name for the joint...

Let's chat...

A day after becoming a dad to twins, Donovan McNabb skipped the paternity leave and showed up at the NovaCare complex for practice yesterday. The Eagles' QB even took some to time to talk with the press about a whole bunch of topics. However, before the topic could turn to diapers, rashes, immunizations and midnight feedings, McNabb revealed that he wants to have a sit-down with the team's brass...

Sounds like someone might get whacked.

Anyway, we're not sure about the names or what type of cigars McNabb passed out, but we're pleased to hear everyone is healthy and happy.

Happy and healthy aren't the best adjectives to describe star-crossed Giants wide receiver Plaxico Burress these days after he accidentally shot himself in the thigh with a gun in a nightclub. On the "phew" side for Burress, the defending Super Bowl champs left the door open for a possible return. But the thing about that is it's just not going to happen this year since the team suspended the receiver for the rest of the year without pay.

Here's the beef

Man... aside from the sellout crowd, the 76ers probably aren't too excited about Kobe Bryant's return to his hometown. That's because Kobe wrecked the Sixers with 32 points on 13-for-20 shooting in 36 minutes during the 114-102 victory. Interestingly, Bryant says he usually shows up in Philadelphia intent on visiting old spots and eating an authentic cheesesteak, however, this trip he said he was more focused on work and pushing the Lakers' record to 15-2.

As if the big game wasn't enough, Kobe and Bartram High alum and Philly hoops legend Earl Monroe shared a moment last night.

Man... talk about some talent. They called Monroe "The Pearl" and "Black Jesus," but what he really was on the playgrounds in Philly back in the day was "The Truth."

A rough night got slightly rougher for the Sixers, who lost Elton Brand late in the game with a tweaked hamstring. Before the game, GM Ed Stefanski told reporters that he isn't second-guessing the decision to sign Brand despite the 8-11 start.

Holy Toledo? Though Joe Paterno's head coaching future is very much up in the air after Penn State plays in the Rose Bowl, the legendary coach's son might in line for the head coaching gig at Toledo, according to reports.

Who knows, if things don't work out at State, perhaps Jay Paterno could hire his dad for the staff?

"I don’t have any weapons. I don’t own any weapons unless you call a couple of Louisville sluggers and aluminum baseball bats some of my weapons, but if you come into my house I am going to turn into Barry Bonds on you."

- Donovan McNabb

I know, I know...

Hey, I hear you. I'm just as anxious to get back at this as you are, but we're just going to have to be patient a little while longer. In the meantime, I'm writing the daily "Center City" feature for CSNPhilly.com, which I'm sure is already listed amongst your bookmarks. I also will be covering the baseball winter meetings from December 8 to 12 in dreary old Las Vegas, so be sure to check out CSNPhilly.com for all of the nuggets that come out of there, as well. Or, better yet, come on out to Vegas... I hear there are things to do there for insomniacs and others that keep vampire's hours.

Nevertheless, keep checking back and I will post updates as to the status of this little dog-and-pony show as I get it.

So get going over to Center City... you can always come back later to browse around.

Things that make no sense

Every once in a while we dive into the media scene on this space. Why not? In some quarters there is a theory that the press is just as much a part of the show as the ballplayers. Different tent, but the same circus. Nevertheless, the Philly media is reeling a bit after the announcement that Gannett, the owner of both the Wilmington News Journal and Camden Courier Post, unceremoniously (as if there is another way) laid off a significant number of folks from their staffs yesterday. Certainly such developments are the norm in the biz these days and not just in the media either, where we sometimes have the innate ability to be a tad self-absorbed. Times are tough everywhere these days and there are a lot of good, hard-working people looking over their shoulders waiting for the axe to fall.

To be sure, there are a lot of sleepless nights all over.

Yet despite 2007 profit margins of 25.08 percent at Wilmington and a more modest but by no means poor 9.83 percent at Camden, the layoffs came with impugnity. Stranger yet, someone at Gannett decided that the Courier Post no longer will cover the Philadelphia professional teams.

Yeah.

Get this: a profitable business in an industry that now hs more readers than at any point in its history is laying off the very people that made it such a viable and profitable business in the first place.

As an old ink-stained wretch and veteran of decades in the newspaper business told me recently, "newspapers aren't dying, they're committing suicide."

They also appear to be doing a disservice to their readership. Barely a month after the Phillies galvanized the region and delivered the first championship to the fans in a quarter century, someone with a spread sheet and a bunch of numbers decided that Phillies scribe Mike Radano and columnist Kevin Roberts (and approximately 30 others) had to go. Yeah, that's right... mere weeks after Mike and Kevin were the biggest reason why people were looking at the Courier Post every day, they're gone.

But at least Kevin didn't go empty handed. In addition to a modest severance package and his walking papers, Kev received a gift card for being named employee of the month of November.

No, you can't make this stuff up.

Meanwhile, with the Eagles making one last push for the playoffs just four days before marching up to the Meadowlands to take on the Super Bowl champion New York Giants, the readers in South Jersey (and beyond) will be given nothing. That's because beat writer Sean McCann received the same fate as Mike and Kevin.

Hey, I know people have their own problems and I know there are a lot of good people who have been downsized, laid off, and abandoned by a poor economy and/or ineptitude by some greedy people. Times are hard. It's evident.

But it's a shame that profitable businesses can't figure that just because the world is a rat race, it doesn't mean one has to be a rat. For epochs, advancements in technology made life easier for people. Recently, it made things like newspapers and television better. Innovation is what makes the world go 'round.

Yet for some reason it seems as if certain advancements in technology have not only limited the level of discourse in the United States, but stiffled it greatly simply because some old-time execs didn't get it or couldn't quite figure out how to make a buck off the most important technological advancement of their lifetime. Yes, this is simplifying it a bit, but this is a rant...

So the show lost a few characters yesterday and it likely will lose a few more in the months coming up. For people who enjoy sports and have that passion heightened because they could revel in the glory or agonize in the defeat along with a writer or storyteller, the games sadly became a little less fun.

... and then suddenly, it was November

Hey folks... we're coming back soon. There are a few details and odds and ends that are being worked out, but we hope the site will be up and running very soon. Expect things to be a little bigger... maybe better, too.

Riding it to the end

FRENCHY'S, CLEARWATER BEACH -- We're tired. All of us. The players, the coaches, the front-office types and, of course, the scribes. We're beaten down to a bloody pulp like an aimless old pug who has taken one too many shots to the dome. We zig when we should zag. We're awake when we should be asleep. We're in the air when we should be on the ground.

It's a big pile of something.

And the people who aren't tired at this point just aren't trying hard enough. It should ache the bones and one's eyes should be damn near swollen shut...

Cut me Mick... cut me.

But that's what it's really about, isn't it? Perseverance or some type of happy horsebleep like that. Adrenaline and the attempt to grind out the last couple of miles of the marathon. We're almost there, folks. It looks like it's going to end in a blaze of spilled drinks and lots of tears.

Take your pick on the tears: joy or sorrow.

Bloodied and unbowed we keep coming back. Though some of us haven't slept in weeks and only remember the way family members look based on a digital photographs packed into an iPod, there really isn't any other place to be.

Send us to Milwaukee? Yeah, we'll be there.

Los Angeles? What time do we go?

Florida's Gulf Coast? Tell the shuttle to meet me at the B Gate at Tampa International.

And yet as late Wednesday night melted into early Thursday morning in a small, sweaty room filthy with cameras, recorders and note pads and the ol' sage held court on one corner, the pitching coach nursed a Corona on an overstuffed couch and the first-base coach finished a late dinner hunched over on a folding chair in his locker, the thought crept in:

This is what we do. We talk, meander, write sentences, and put off going to bed so we can do it all over another day. Oh yes, we'll get home soon. It's just that we have to ride this out to the end.

And no one wants to be the first one to leave.

*** I should have mentioned this earlier, but there will no more live updates on this site until further notice. When everything gets ironed out, there will be notice... maybe even a press release.

*** Big ups to Kevin Roberts, the stately columnist for the Courier Post, for opening up "Lounge 405" at the Fairfield Bayside in Clearwater. Part after-hours joint and part Algonquin Round Table, the place provided all the comforts of home as well as a complimentary buffet.

The truth is Kev truly is a wonderful host...

And so fastidious! Kevin really keeps a neat room... I, on the other hand, could rival Keith Moon. I don't know how the cleaning lady is going to get that swamp mud off the drapes.

Back to where we started

BALTIMORE-WASHINGTON INTERNATIONAL - The Department of Homeland Security says the threat level is "orange." Actually, the voice with no regional dialect that booms over the P.A. system speaking for the Department of Homeland Security, says the threat level is, indeed, "orange." I know this because I hear it every 10 minutes here at BWI, where I will soon be jetting off to sunny Florida for the 2008 World Series. It should be fun - and busy. The World Series is probably one of those events that attracts weirdoes, people seeking alcoholic beverages, people seeking a glimpse of "history," more weirdoes, media folks*, women, some kids, a handful of celebrities, and teems of overblown egos.

In other words, it's a party. Actually, it's a party I get to write about.

But back to the "orange" threat level... is this good or bad? I suspect it's good because it has remained at "orange" throughout the seven different airplanes I've boarded over the past two weeks. That total could climb to double digits by the time this baseball season ends, which makes it good to know that the threat level has remained a warm, fluffy and consistent "orange."

I assume that the darker the color of the threat, the less secure we are. "Orange," I guess is bit toward the bad side as opposed to green or taupe. When it gets to mauve or cool, ocean blue, we get to keep our shoes and belts on and our computers in the bag when we go through the security post. Red means there might be snipers casing the long-term parking lot. Be sure to keep the Kevlar with the carry on.

I'm not sure what the level of preparedness they are at in the Tampa Bay area where the Rays, nee Devil, play their games. For one thing, the denizens of Tampa Bay sure do know baseball. In fact, it's probably a huge component of the local economy, what with the Pirate festivals and spring breakers and all that. Just think of all the teams that train in the area: the Blue Jays are in Dunedin; Yankees in Tampa; Pirates in Bradenton; Reds a little farther south in Sarasota; and of course the Rays in St. Petersburg. The weird thing about the Rays is that they train and play in the same spot...

That never ceases to amaze me.

In the middle of it all, of course, are the Phillies. Since the early 1950s the team has called Clearwater its spring home, and as a result, tons and tons of people from our little area of the country flock down there in February and March to watch the local nine prepare for the upcoming season. Actually, because of those visits, some folks from the Philly area grow to like Clearwater and the surrounding towns so much that they pack up and move there.

Snow birds they call them. Check them out at Frenchy's or Luigi's where they wait in line and beat on the doors in order to be the first one in for the early-bird special. Actually, the good folks in Clearwater love them some old people. According to the latest census results, just 35 percent of the residents of Clearwater proper are between the ages of 18 and 44 and 45 percent of the population was older than 45. That last number breaks down to approximately 22 percent over the age of 65.

Nevertheless, Clearwater is a good place to visit in February and March when the air in the northeast still has that nasty bite and one's skin hasn't been kissed by the sun since Labor Day.

Anyway, Clearwater is also a good place to go if you like chain stores and strip malls. Based on the visit last February/March, it appeared as if the palmettos, reeds and tall marsh grass final surrendered in the turf war they never had a chance to win. Now, instead of swamps, it's Target, Borders, Costco, Wal-Mart, Taco Bell, etc., etc.

If you thought the Philadelphia suburbs (and now exurbs) were over-developed, you ought to check out the Gulf-to-Bay Blvd. in Clearwater. Either the folks really want to be homogenized by chain stores or they get really, really peeved if they have to drive the SUV more than three minutes to get a venti mochachino or an industrial sized vat ‘o mayonnaise from the Costco or whatever else folks go to.

Remember, you need a membership to go to those places. It's that exclusive... and the parking lots? Massive! Some have their own zip code.

The parallel, of course, is that the baseball season truly has come full circle for the Phillies. Better yet, it really has come full circle for me. When it began I jetted in to Tampa International, got a car and checked in to a Marriott-owned (yes, it's a chain, but I get points!) inn just off the main drag. I spent my days and nights at the ballpark, just off Route 19, learning about what type of season the Phillies might have.

Here we are nearly eight months later as the season is about to end. Again we're flying in to Tampa International, getting our rides and checking into the very same hotel. After that, it's baseball all day and night until there is only one team remaining.

Then we get to start all over again in February.

More later when we get all squared away.

---

* Which is a sub-category of weirdo, but for this purpose we'll give the media its own classification.

Your town is pretty cool, too

ANGRYVILLE – They handle defeat very well in Los Angeles. They don’t mope, freak out, or litter the field with D-sized batteries or the ubiquitous beach balls that bounce around through the seating areas during the action. They really don’t even complain, to be perfectly frank. They just go home. They leave early and fight traffic. They put the crippling defeats out of their minds by skipping work to play in the sun. They just forget about it as they frolic in the grass with cool drinks and lots of pretty friends.

Loss? Nah, they don’t deal with it at all in Los Angeles. Who has the time?

In Philadelphia we know loss all too well. It’s in our DNA. It’s intense… no wait, that’s wrong. It’s intensity.

Each morning we all wake up before the dawn just as the rage has regrouped so we can wipe the bitter-tasting bile that has encrusted the corners of our mouths with the outer black sleeve of our spittle-coated MotorHead t-shirts. Then we drag our sorry asses off the couch where we collapsed just 45 minutes earlier and instinctively thrust a middle finger at the rest of the world.

The day begins in Philadelphia. The fury must be unleashed. We lose again.

But there is always a fleeting moment – one that usually occurs in the time it takes to get from one knee to a standing position after unfolding oneself from the couch – when stock is taken. A moment, as fast as a flap of a hummingbird’s wing, enters our twisted and angry heads:

World weary. Saddened by my years on the road. Seen a lot. Done a lot. Loss? Yeah, I know loss. I know loss with its friends sorrow, fury and death. Yes, loss and me are like this… we’re partners as we walk on the dusty trail of life.

But something happened in Los Angeles. Beneath that tiney, porcupine-like exterior, glimpses into our souls were exposed. There was warmth, fear, insecurity…

Victory?

Yes, victory. The Phillies are going to the World Series. They will play these games in the prime of the night beginning on Wednesday in a city like Tampa or Boston – places that it’s easy to look down at our sad, wretched lives of angry and failed dreams. In Boston and/or Tampa, with their white, sandy beaches, gourmet restaurants, unimpeded gentrification, high-brow universities and sunshiny skies not all that different than in Los Angeles where for 364 days God gives them the gift of perfect weather and climate. That 365th day it might get cloudy.

So when we show up to these cities en masse to watch the local nine fight for our civic pride, they see us coming. We stick out with that crippled walk of defeat, clenched jaws of stress and disgust, fists balled up and middle fingers erect. When we take the exit ramp off the boulevard of broken dreams to enter these happy, little towns, the local authorities are ready. They’ve been tipped off ahead of time and are prepared to set up a dragnet at a moment’s notice.

But what hurts worse isn’t the condescending attitudes or the arrogance in which those people flit through life so carefree and cheery. That we can handle just fine with our jealousy and resentment, thank you very much. No, instead we’re put off by words and hackery. Our dander rises with mockery and stereotypes.

Hey, we know who we are and we accept what others might think and believe, too. We’re cool with it – it doesn’t define us, but sure, if folks want to take the easy way out who are we to blame them? But the insulting part is that they just don’t even try any more.

Boo Santa. Cheer injuries. Snowballs at the Cowboys. Batteries for J.D. Drew. Cheesesteaks. Cracked bells. Anger and passion. Rocky Balboa.

C’mon man, doesn’t anybody want to work anymore? Doesn’t anyone want to learn the truth? Isn’t anyone tired of the hypocrisy and the complacency?

Worse, with some folks from our town now coming to grips with the prospect of winning, they just might attempt to hack it up and fire back at the places that scorn us with their cheap, tired newspaper stories. Now that the shoe is on the other foot, the city rip is OK, just like that inanity of politicians betting cheesesteaks against lobsters based on the outcome of a game.

Can we stop this before it starts? Do we owe the citizens of the Tampa Bay area a rip job just because of the notion that the sports team that represents them might beat the one that represents us? Do we have to generate some faux anger with the folks of New England who follow a baseball team that plays in an outdated stadium with high-priced talent?

I have a better idea…

Let’s stop it before it starts. Let’s be better for a change. Let’s act like true winners now that it just might fit us for a change. Let’s not be like Tampa or Boston or Los Angeles.

Let’s just be a town with a winning baseball team trying to win the World Series.

"Winning is hard. Nothing about winning comes easy," Charlie Manuel said. "... believe me, there's a price you pay for winning, too."

That price can sometimes mean dignity, self-respect and the ability to think clearly.

Just because we’re good for once doesn’t mean we get to hack it up, too. Let’s stay good.

*** While we’re talking the World Series, here are some facts and figures about the Phillies courtesy of CSN producer, Neal Slotkin:

Making sixth World Series appearance in franchise history – first since 1993

Phillies now 4-0 in NLCS closeout games

0-4 vs teams currently in AL East : IF TB wins, Phillies will have played all 5 current teams from the AL East in a World Series: 1915 – lost to Red Sox 4-1 1950 – lost to Yankees 4-0 1983 – lost to Orioles 4-1 1993 – lost to Blue Jays 4-2

If TB wins: Phillies 5-10 all-time vs Tampa (2-4 at Tropicana Field)

World Series Experience: (5 players – 3 hitters, 2 pitchers)

So Taguchi: 3-15 (.200 BA, 1 RBI) – Only Phillie with a World Series hit Eric Bruntlett: appeared in 2005 WS w/HOU, never batted Pedro Feliz: 0-5 in 3 games with Giants in 2002

Brad Lidge: 0-2, 4.91 ERA in 3 games (3.2 IP) with HOU in 2005 Allowed 4 hits, 2 R, 3 ER, 1 HR, 6 K Scott Eyre: 0-0, 0.00 ERA in 3 games for Giants in 2002 Allowed 5 hits, 1 R, 0 ER in 3 IP, 1 BB, 2 K

Other Player Notes Cole Hamels: 6th Youngest starter to win LCS Clinching game Becomes fourth Phillies player named NLCS MVP: Cole Hamels – 2008 Curt Schilling – 1993 Gary Matthews – 1983 Manny Trillo - 1980

3-0 this postseason, 3 playoff wins is 2nd in franchise history (Carlton 6)

Jimmy Rollins: 3 career leadoff homers in postseason, most all-time Only player in MLB history with 2 leadoff home runs in same postseason NLCS: .143 BA (3-21), 1 HR, 1 RBI, 8 K

Jayson Werth: 13 K – most among any player in 2008 playoffs (Rollins tied for 2nd with 4 other players with 10)

Shane Victorino: Leads all players with 13 postseason RBIs

Stay tuned

OK, so I made it back and will get to all the insider info (yes, I talk to Zolecki for that) as well as the point-blank range on the latest from the champagne room, a.k.a. the Phillies' clubhouse. Yep, it's all coming... get ready.

Pregame: Tonight is the night

LOS ANGELES – The consensus around here with the media types is that tonight’s Game 5 is bigger than most people believe. It’s big, sure… it is, after all, the NLCS. But aside from the obvious, Game 5 will decide which team goes to the World Series. Yeah, that’s right … the winner of tonight’s game will go to the World Series.

Obviously, if the Phillies win it’s all over, and in that regard things look pretty good for them. Cole Hamels, the team’s best pitcher, has been close to Koufax-esque during the playoffs. Since the Dodgers countering with Chad Billingsley, a pitcher who struck out four of the first six hitters he faced during Game 2, but then retired just four more hitters for the rest of the game, it appears to be a matchup that favors the Phils. Billingsley damn-near melted down in Game 2 and then he and his teammates began chirping at each other.

But if the Phillies don’t get it done tonight at Chavez Ravine, it gets tougher back in Philadelphia beginning on Friday night. For one, Hiroki Kuroda, the lights out pitcher that has baffled the Phillies in three starts this year, will pitch against Brett Myers. The Phillies’ pitcher wasn’t so sharp despite winning Game 2, and has a gimpy ankle to go along with it.

If there is a need for Game 7 on Saturday, Derek Lowe will make his third start of the series against a Phillies pitcher to be determined. Typically, Saturday will be Jamie Moyer’s turn in the rotation, however, the veteran lefty has lasted just 5 1/3 innings in two starts in the playoffs for an ERA of 13.50.

So there it is – tonight is the night. The Phillies definitely do not want to return to Philadelphia this weekend without the Warren Giles Trophy. Otherwise, it might just slip out of their hands.

Here are tonight’s lineups:

Phillies 11 – Jimmy Rollins, ss 28 – Jayson Werth, rf 26 – Chase Utley, 2b 6 – Ryan Howard, 1b 5 – Pat Burrell, lf 8 – Shane Victorino, cf 7 – Pedro Feliz, 3b 51 – Carlos Ruiz, c 35 – Cole Hamels, p

Dodgers 15 – Rafael Furcal, ss 16 – Andre Ethier, rf 99 – Manny Ramirez, lf 55 – Russell Martin, c 7 – James Loney, 1b 30 – Casey Blake, 3b 27 – Matt Kemp, cf 33 – Blake DeWitt, 2b 58 – Chad Billingsley, p

Hot, hot heat

LOS ANGELES – It’s hot. Damn hot. It’s so hot here in Los Angeles that it no longer qualifies as a dry heat. It’s just freaking hot. The sun is up there beating down on our heads and cooking everything below and everyone is just kind moving around slow. I don’t see too many clouds in the sky. That means there is no badly needed rain in the forecast to help salve the wildfires raging nearby in the San Fernando and Simi Valleys.

It seems as if the warm weather caught a few people off guard here at Dodger Stadium. Like the rest of us, the Dodgers staff is also moving slowly in attempt to conserve energy. In fact, they are moving so slowly that the press room drink machine wasn’t set up, nor were the lineups posted.

Then again, Cole Hamels and Ryan Madson just rolled in while I was typing this. However, Cole changed out of his dark suit and into his pre-game warmup gear rather quickly and talked on the phone in the seats behind home plate. The rule is no cell phone in the clubhouse… starting pitchers included.

Nevertheless, I snapped a photo of Hamels yapping on his cell phone with my cell phone. I’m sure the picture is grainy and undecipherable.

Anyway, off to the field to hear what Hiroki Kuroda, Joe Torre, Charlie Manuel and Brett Myers have to say. It’s another big game tonight…

Then again, they all get bigger from here on out.

*** It’s worth pointing out that our old pal Doug Glanville wrote about his old pal, Terry Francona in an op-ed piece for The New York Times.

One friendly dude writing about another friendly dude… that’s almost like looking at a photo taken from a camera phone of guy talking on his cell phone.