Cover This!

I was listening to the radio the other and The Black Crowes came on the radio. It was the millionth time they've played Hard to Handle. I've always liked that song better than the original version by Otis Redding. It got me thinking about other cover songs I think are better than the original. In no particular order.

All Along the Watchtower - Jimi Hendrix
Live and Let Die - Guns 'N Roses
With a Little Help From My Friends - Joe Cocker
Smooth Criminal - Alien Ant Farm
Hurt - Johnny Cash
Blinded by the Light - Manfred Mann's Earth Band

I don't know if it's better but I also really like Cakes cover of War Pigs.

Feel free to leave your favorite covers in the comments. Any mention of The Dave Matthews Band will get you banned from making comments for a month however.

On wearing a moustache

I choose to write this evening about an experience I had about 6 months ago. I am somewhat concerned that it may violate the official "What Happens in Vegas..." policy. And, that slogan is vaguely threatening. But I feel compelled to write a bit about a piece of performance art/sociological experiment/exercise in jackassery I participated in, tourism slogans be damned.

For a Las Vegas trip, I grew a moustache. Not as part of a beard, or a van dyke, or anything. Just an honest-to-god, Tom Selleck moustache.

I figured, why should they be the exclusive province of sexual deviants? Time ago was, real men could grow moustaches. Now, it is Mike Ditka, Jeff Fisher, and the singer from the Killers. And that's about it.

I had two comrades-in-'stache enlisted with me. We all grew moustaches. Great, aggressive, manly moustaches.

The first thing we noticed: moustaches make you self-counscious. This was demonstrated in part by the fact that my two comrades-in-'stache abandoned me day one. Shaved 'em off, right off the bat. They didn't feel comfortable, they said. And I can't say I blamed them. Although drunker than they, I, too was self-conscious.

Which is somewhat interesting. I have had varying degrees of facial hair many times in the past. I have wilfully chosen to dress in a silly manner in public, with no problem. But wearing the moustache, I was constantly aware that I looked strange, in a way that I did not feel when I wore a cowboy hat (somewhat) unironically. And everytime I forgot, I strolled past a reflective surface, and the process began again.

In a related observation, the moustache is often all that people notice of you. I was told many, many times that I looked like Wade Boggs. And it was never qualified, "with your moustache." Just- "Hey, has anyone ever told you that you look like Wade Boggs?" One poker dealer even deemed a streak of bad luck for me "The Boston Massacre."

Wade Boggs is a 50 year old man. I am 27. Wade Boggs is bald- he even advertises for a hair restoration service. I have a ridiculously full head of hair, to the point that it grows out, not up. Wade Boggs is taller and (at least somewhat, in his post-playing days) heavier than me. Facially, I in no way resemble the chicken-eating "Cheers" guest star who manned third base for the Red Sox. But people still insisted that I looked exactly like the guy, because of the one (and only) trait we shared- a reddish moustache.

That kind of reductive comparison really called my attention to the degree that people recognize moustaches.

Another observation was that you do not blend in to your surroundings nearly as well when you are wearing a moustache. When I sat down at a poker table, everyone looked up at me, and took an extra second or three to size me up. I am used to looking very anonymous. But in a moustache, I just didn't blend.

I think it is endlessly fascinating that this particular facial hair style has fallen so far from grace that it looks out of the ordinary today. Pull some baseball cards from the 1970s- half the players in the major leagues had moustaches. It was normal, accepted. And somewhere along the line, the moustache became uncool. Very uncool.

Even Wayne Newton shaved his moustache.

Maybe it was Freddie Mercury, or Super Mario, or Wade Boggs himself. Maybe it was social tides beyond the control or comprehension of the average man. But somewhere, in between 1990 and 1995, the moustache fell out of favor. And now, as I learned in the Nevada gambling mecca, a man must be brave, and drunker than I, to wear a moustache with pride.

I do believe that one day average Joes will reclaim this look from Johnny Molester and the rest of his deviant ilk. But for now, the moustache wearer is a lonely man.

Golden Sombrero plus one

Jeff Francoeur had a rough night last night.

0-5, 5 strikeouts.

For once, I am not just blowing smoke when I say, "I could have done that."

Separated at Birth

Atlanta Falcons Coach Bobby Petrino

And former House Majority Leader Tom Delay

A Few Thoughts

Here are my reactions after watching the first half of the Falcons-Bengals game:

1. I'm officially upgrading my seat from coach to first-class on the Joey Harrington Train.

2. Jerious Norwood is going to be a beast.

3. I like the new addition of Ron Jaworski to the Monday Night Football team. I know, I'm as surprised as you.

4. The Defense... concerns me.

5. About Michael Vick - The only thing I'll say is that I think this is a class issue, not a race issue. Some of the most racist people I work with have been Vick's biggest supporters. People who grew up around dog fighting actually see nothing wrong with it.

I felt bad. And nationwide.

Yesterday, I saw a car on the road that looked just like the ZZ Top Eliminator car. Same color and everything.
I gave it the roundhouse, underhand point salute. I hope they saw me.

Auburn Still Sucks

I think one of two things need to happen to college football polling.


1. They need to eliminate all pre-season polls.
Or
2. They should eliminate pre-season polls from any BCS calculations.


In the current system, teams in the pre-season top 10 have an unfair advantage over every other team in Division 1-A football. The only reason they have this advantage is because various sports writers and coaches decided that they would be the best teams in the nation before a game was even played. For example, in the 2004 season three BCS schools went undefeated in the regular season (I’m eliminating non-BCS schools from my argument in this case); USC, Oklahoma and Auburn. Now by the end of the year it was generally agreed that Auburn was a better team than Oklahoma. However, because Oklahoma was ranked higher than Auburn in the pre-season (number 2 and 17 respectively) they were slotted to play USC in the National Title game that year. Because they had gone undefeated and had been ranked number 2 at the beginning of the year pollsters were somewhat forced to keep them ranked where they were (there is an unwritten rule that if you keep winning all of your games then you don’t drop in the polls).

Now I know that pre-season polls will never be done away with (they get people talking and allow ESPN and others to “debate” football months before the games start), but I think they can be taken out of the BCS equation. The BCS should go to a system that eliminates all polls that rank teams before week 8 (or whatever week it is that the first BCS rankings are released) from their calculations.

By doing so, teams would no longer have an unfair advantage due to pre-season polls. Also, surprise teams (like Auburn in 2004) would have an equal chance to play for national title as any team ranked higher than them in any pre-season polls. Pre-season polls are never right anyway so why should we allow them to cloud an already flawed system. National champions should be decided on the field and not in the minds of people like Lou Holtz (may he rest in peace).

I write this not as an SEC fan (I’m an ACC guy) but as a fan of college football.

John Elway is the New QB Coach at Son's HS

I wonder if he'll give his son tips on forcing a team he doesn't like to trade him when he gets drafted in a few years.

http://sports.espn.go.com/nfl/news/story?id=2987589

This is SportsCenter?

The good people at the Worldwide Leader can kiss my ass.

Perhaps worrying that they were losing in the stupid people demographic to The Best Damn Sports Show Period on Fox, ESPN has broken out some incredibly moronic programming for its centerpiece show.

The "Who's Now" tournament? Possibly the dumbest thing I have ever seen on television. Watching Keyshawn and Erin Andrews debate who has more "buzz," LeBron James or Shaquille O'Neal was excruciating.

The segment where Reese Davis, Mark May, and Lou Holtz (bravely battling what I assume to be a case of dementia) debate what will happen in specific college football games in November? Completely freaking retarded. Although I am glad to know that Rutgers will finally claw their way back into the top 10 on November 2. Great analysis, guys.

With football season just around the corner, you just know they are going to dust off that gem where CFL legend Sean Salisbury and the guy who looks like Mike Oldham pretend to argue about the NFL.

And is it just me, or are the Little League highlights getting out of hand? I feel like these 12 year olds get more coverage than actual Major League Baseball sometimes. And I am sure that has nothing to do with the fact that ESPN and ABC broadcast the LLWS games. Pure coincidence.

I would rather watch a Jeremy Schaap puff piece about some crippled curler in Manitoba defying the odds to try out for the Olympic team than some of the things SportsCenter subjects me to now.

3 TDs and 3 FGs...

I was blown away when I saw the score for the Rangers-Orioles game yesterday. (Game 1 of the doubleheader of course. The score for game 2 was unremarkable.)

30-3.

Holy God.

Of course after facing Santana and Bedard, any pitcher is going to look like he is throwing BP. But 30 runs?

One of the cliches people spout when discussing what makes baseball great is that the games have no clock. As long as you are hitting, your inning will continue. The Rangers took that cliche to heart on Wednesday.

Hey, Hey, We're the Single Most Underrated Rock N' Roll Band of All Time.

I love the Monkees.

I have tried to play it off as kitsch. I have tried to play it off as an anti-intellectual, populist argument. I have tried to play it off as a hyper-intellectual, open-minded argument. But however you spin it, I reach the same result. I love the Monkees.

And this invariably, no matter argument I am spouting at the time, gets me laughed at.

Occasionally, people will laugh with me and then "confess" to loving Herman's Hermits or The Archies or some other kind of sixties bullshit. But more often, I get sincere, actual, I-think-you-are-stupid laughter. I might as well take up a worthier cause, like trying to convince people of the merits of technicolor or ovaltine, or some other pop culture relic.

But, whenever I want to abandon this cause, I pop on a record, and realize all over again that (we're coming to the chorus now...) I love the Monkees.

This is because the Monkees rule. I believe this to be a provable fact.

The most common anti-Monkee arguments:

1. They didn't write their own songs.
2. They didn't play their own instruments.
3. They were put together as a "band" by a producer who wasn't interested in art, only in dollars.
4. They were too image-conscious, and dependent on their television show.
5. They didn't have anything important to say.

In turn:

(1) and (2): To those who present arguments #1 and #2: Congratulations! You can read linear notes!
However, I ultimately do not believe that the Monkees' writing credits or lack thereof is not a knock against them. For two reasons:

(a) They did write songs. Good songs. Mike Nesmith wrote "Mary, Mary." And "Listen to the Band." And "The Girl I Knew Somewhere," which I had previously sworn was a Neil Diamond song. Micky Dolenz wrote "Randy Scouse Git." And the entire band collaborated on "Words." These are some solid pop gems, penned by these supposed talentless boobs.

(b) Why does it matter if the band wrote their own songs? The Four Tops and the Temptations did not write their own songs. Hell, The Byrds rarely wrote their own songs. Sinatra never wrote a song that I know of. Why is it so freaking important for a band to write all of its own material?

I blame the Beatles. They imposed the image of a self-contained band on the public consciousness. But even they began with a ton of covers. And cynics out there will note that they only really started focusing on their songwriting craft when it was pointed out that they did not have to pay writing royalties to the authors when they recorded their own originals.

Country fans have this figured out. They do not seem to care if an artist writes every song he sings. Authorship is something of a bonus, yes. But the perspective and "authenticity" of writing your own material is not a replacement for performing good songs well.

And playing your own music? On every track? The Beach Boys better stop printing the musicians list for "Pet Sounds," lest the rock intelligentsia declare them as crappy as The Monkees.

(3) To those who argue that the band came together inorganically, I say: This is no real criticism. Plenty of artistically successful bands have been assembled by a faceless, profit driven producer. See: Sex Pistols, The; Maclolm McLaren and. See also: Sync, N*, Lou Pearlman and.

Once again, the four buddies from Liverpool have created a model which has shackled people's images of rock music. But giving credit only to bands who played in seventh-grade talent shows together is to, in essence, pre-judge music. When you give credit only to those bands whom you feel meet some pre-determined criteria, you are pretty short sighted, and you are closing yourself off to all kinds of positive experiences. And if you were to do this in other areas of your life, it would qualify you for a seat on the Springer stage.

(4) As for #4, what can I say? It was the sixties. Every band was on TV, running around like idiots. And if you think a band loses credibility for doing that, I guess you should probably not tune in to watch "A Hard Day's Night" or "Help" on AMC.

(5) The people who spout idea #5 are particularly grating. These are the people who will tell you Jim Morrison is a poet while glossing over the fact that he wrote inanities like "Hello, I love you." (Which is a good song, but you see where I am going.)

Not all good songs are deep. "Louie, Louie" is one of the best songs ever written- it is infectious, rebellious, just the right amount of jubilant noise. But it doesn't mean shit. Conversely, not every deep song is good. Otherwise, we would all have "Abraham Martin and John" or some other bullshit like that on our I-Pods.

The Monkees played (and even wrote) some amazing pop-rock songs. The vocals on "I'm a Believer" are tone-perfect. The organ in "I'm not Your Stepping Stone" builds to a dark and wicked-sounding crescendo, building alongside some crashing drums and some rousing call-and-response vocals. "Pleasant Valley Sunday" rides a Byrds-worthy ringing guitar into a gorgeous chorus with flowing harmonies. "D.W. Washburn" sounds like the third-best song on the Lovin' Spoonful's greatest hits (when in fact it is the 12th best song on the Monkees' greatest hits).

And the impetus for this post- I just yesterday bought The Monkees' 1996 album "Justus" off the dollar rack. And it is pretty damn good. Better than "Chaos and Creation in the Backyard." But I don't remember The Monkees playing the halftime show of the Broncos-Packers Superbowl. I just remember another corny VH1 special and a marathon of their show on TV Land.

I have come to accept that the general music-loving public does not like The Monkees. And, my above-listed counterarguments aside, I can somewhat understand why.

But I want to use this space to give a cheer to Micky. To Mike. To Peter. and To Davy.

You guys were easily the 15th best rock band of the 1960s. And the most underrated rock band of all time.

Top Five Musical Holes I Need to Fill (Heh...He Said Holes)

5. The Minus 5 - I enjoy their music every time someone plays one of their CD's. Also most of the band opened up for The Presidents of the United States of America at the first concert I went to see without parental supervision. Although they were called the Young Fresh Fellows when I saw them.

4. Tom Petty - I'm starting to remedy this. I have his greatest hits collection and Full Moon Fever.

3 Ludacris - I can't show enough how much I love Ludacris. Buying a couple of his albums would probably help.

2. Tupac - I need to at least own all of his pre-posthumous releases.

1. The Rolling Stones - Number of Justin Timberlake albums I own - 2. Number of Stones album I own - 1 (and it's a greatest hits package)

My CD Collection is Shiny and Costly

I'm getting married in November, so when my fiance's lease ended at the beginning of August she moved into my house. For the past couple of weeks we've been unpacking her stuff and re-arranging the house to fit all of her things (Thank God for the garage or all the stuff wouldn't fit. And even then...).

When we started unpacking all of her media (books, movies and CD's) I had a strange thought when we got to her CD collection. Here's how the conversation went:

ME: Is it alright if we don't mix our CD's when we get to organizing them?

HER (What she said aloud): OK
(What she was thinking): Dear God, run! Before it's too late!

Now I had no problem mixing our movies or books together. And it's not that I think she listens to bad music. She actually listens to great music (a lot of it overlaps come to think of it). For better or worse though I pretty much remember when I bought all of my CD's. I also remember what mood I was in and what I was doing when I first listened to each of my CD's. I think that I have too much of an emotional attachment to my music collection and it would feel weird if someone elses music were sitting next to it.

But that's the whole point of getting married in the first place. You give up the "me" and the "my" and you replace it with "we" and "our". So I think I'll mix our CD's together. I can still look at my CD's to remind me where I've been. And I can see her CD's next to mine and realize where I currently am. And I'd much rather have her in my life than have separate CD collections and a bunch of dead memories.

(I didn't mean to get all sappy at the end of this post but it seemed to write itself).

Footnote: There's also an unofficial competition between Babar, our friend (let's call him) Mot and myself to see who has the biggest CD collection. And even though I wouldn't count her CD's in the total, it still seems like cheating.

Die Hard with an *

I went to see the new Die Hard movie last week. I thought it was good. I think it had something to do with the writing (by the way, F-you Babar).

Anyway, I was disappointed though because once again the gods of Marketing crushed the gods of Awesome. Because it was decided that a PG-13 Die Hard would make more money than an R rated Die Hard, we were treated to John McClane going no higher on the Cuss Word Food Chain than "shit". He wasn't even allowed to say his signature line before being cut off by a gunshot.

That gets me to my second point. This movie is very violent. I'm surprised even with the toned down language that this wasn't rated R anyway. But I guess if you take most of the blood out the violence becomes OK for a thirteen year-old to watch.

Back to the real reason I'm writing this. What made this movie so unbelievable (aside from the awesomely ridiculous action sequences) was the fact that we were supposed to believe that McClane had cleaned up his act. He didn't even smoke much less cuss up a storm. Now in my day to day life I neither smoke or cuss but John McClane does. I expect him to do these things because that is who he is. A PG-13 Die Hard takes this away from me and all the other Die Hard fans who grew up watching McClane dispatch bad guys while smoking and yelling "Yipee kai-ay motherfucker".

A PG-13 movie also eliminates much of the mystery from an action movie. Which body parts will we see fly? How many F-bombs will be dropped? Cigarettes smoked? How much nudity? The answer to all of these question (and some I can't think of right now) is none.

So marketers, please make True Lies 2, Running Man 2 and Rambo 4 rated R. I promise if you do, I'll go see them twice.

Footnote: Pg-13 ratings also make the bad guys even worse shots. No collateral damage allowed I guess.

Looks Like I Have to Start Watching 'Heroes'

http://www.ew.com/ew/article/0,,20052470,00.html

1950 AL MVP and Paradise by the Dashboard Light, great. But don't forget Paul's Boutique

Major League Baseball Hall-of-Famer Phil Rizzuto passed away earlier this week. RIP, Scooter.

In many of the obit pieces I have seen, they feel compelled to mention that Rizzuto provided the baseball commentary in Meat Loaf's "Paradise by the Dashboard Light." But they do not mention the other contributions Rizzuto made to pop culture.

Like being the word Billy Madison could not spell in his cursive test.

Or, more importantly to me anyway, drawing a mention on the Beastie Boys' classic album Paul's Boutique.

In honor of Rizzuto, here are the 5 best sporting references on Paul's Boutique:

5. "Shea Stadium, the radium, EMC Squared...," from Sounds of Science.
Nice National League reference from folks I whom I thought to be Yankee fans.

4. "I'm the King Ad-Whammy, you're Dick Butkus," from Get on the Mic
Although, judging from the pronunciation, they did not have #51's fearsome on-field persona in mind. Or his work on "My Two Dads," either, for that matter.

3. "I got more Louie than Phillip Rizzuto," from What Goes Around.
Cryptic, because I am not entirely certain what "Louie" refers to.

2. "Like Mario Andretti, 'cause he always drives a car well," from Shadrach.
I particularly enjoy this one because it is a crystal clear and literal similie.

1. "Got more hits than Saduharu Oh," from Hey Ladies.
I hope this line gets mention in the press when America's least favorite chemically enhanced slugger, DH'ing for the Angels, approaches Oh's records in about two years.


Post-script: do check out this site if you enjoy the minutae of Paul's Boutique. http://paulsboutique.info/

The Suckiest Bunch of Sucks That Ever Sucked

Over the past week I have been watching the 10th season of the Simpsons, which just came out on DVD. Now, like any good nerd I’ve listened to most of the commentary tracks for this season. Having listened to the various writers, directors and guest stars talk about the show I figured out the reason why the Simpsons started sucking 6 or 7 years back. Well, two reasons actually.

First of all, when a show has been on the air for so long, it’s hard to come up with new ideas to keep the characters funny. There are only so many times Homer and Bart can grift the town out of their money or lose all of the family’s life saving in a get-rich quick scheme. Also, Lisa can only annoy us so many times with her constant moralizing and calls for tolerance of her stupid stances while at the same time not tolerating any one else’s views. The show actually tackled this issue in a hilarious episode featuring the memorable new characters Poochie and Roy. However, this episode aired in season 8 and the Simpsons are currently in their 19th season.

In addition to the show just being old, the current group of writers grew up watching the Simpsons. I think this is an important, if overlooked reason why the show isn't funny anymore. The problem with having writers that grew up watching the show is that their main source of comedy comes from the very show they were writing for. The earlier writers had several sources of comedy to draw from while the new writers mainly had the Simpsons. The show has had such an impact on pop culture that most comedy today draws from the Simpsons. Even if they looked for other sources of comedy, those sources have been, for better or worse, influenced directly or indirectly by the Simpsons. The result of this is that the newer episodes seem to only be copy of a Simpsons episode and not a real episode.

Footnote: I recently saw the movie and the screenplay was written by the original writers. It was surprisingly good and I think the writers had something to do with it.

Because you needed it spelled out, now it is time to listen to the solo

Many excellent rock songs contain exclamations that precede the solo. Some of my personal favorites:

"Take me!"- T.Rex, "Mambo Sun"
"Guitar" (pronounced "gee-tar")- The Faces, "Stay With Me" (also, Aerosmith, "Tell Me What it Takes.")
"One more time..."- Matthew Sweet, "Sick of Myself"
"Make me cry"- Pearl Jam, "Yellow Ledbetter"
"Welcome back now!"- Bruce Springsteen, "Growing Up"
"OK, Edge. Play the blues!"- U2, "Silver and Gold" (off Rattle and Hum)
"Well pick it, now."- Todd Snider, "Statistician's Blues" (and on the live album, he follows his own exhortation with a response of "Alright.")

An honorable mention to Pavement, who did not blurt anything random prior to a solo but did inform listeners in "Gold Soundz" that "we're coming to the chorus, now."

For Those About to Acknowledge Glaring Omissions... We Salute You!

In my late-night, post-softball haze, and in my rush to honor the only resident of my hometown to appear in US Weekly, I left perhaps the best brother band of all time off the list.

Angus and Malcolm, please forgive me.

I will note for the record, though, that Styx is an intentional omission.

Brother Bands

Tonight, my softball team was short on players because of injury. To avoid the ignonimity of a forfeit, we placed a call to solicit the services of my younger brother. And we enjoyed a rare non-loss as a result.

But strangely, even in celebrating our good fortune on the diamond, I had the realization that I had punched my younger brother in the face way more than I have punched any other human being.

I think that many brothers have a similar relationship. Love for one another. An understanding that can only come from sharing significant portions of genetic code. But, still, occasional tensions that can result in violence that would be unthinkable if perpetrated on a stranger.

Popular music has shown us plenty of brothers who are capable of great things together (like my brother and I did tonight in tying one of the better teams in my beer league). But those brothers have also often resorted to punching one another in the face.

In honor of the near triumphs of me and my brother on the softball diamond, I offer my opinions on the 5 best "brother bands" of all time.

5. The Black Crowes. I know, I know. They straddle the line between cool and completely shitty. But they may be (no joke) the best Rolling Stones ripoff band since the Faces. Plus, as native May-rettans, I have to throw Rich and Chris Robinson a little support.

4. Oasis. I guarantee Noel and Liam have punched each other in the face more often than my brother and I have. And in between those punches, they produced two classic albums, two pretty solid albums, and one very memorable performance on MTV unplugged.

3. The Replacements. Paul Westerberg may have steered the band (more or less) creatively. But the band was one of the best of their time. And they did feature a guitarist (Bob) and a bassist (Tommy) from the same parents.

2. The Kinks. An extremely underrated band, in my opinion. Ray and Dave Davies produced some of rock's most memorable, obnoxious guitar riffs; stunning, musically and thematically varied concept albums; and perhaps the greatest song ever written about a transvesite (except for Aerosmith's Dude Looks Like A Lady, which had a not-at-all ridiculous horn section).

1. Creedence Clearwater Revival. John and Tom Fogarty collaborated for only a few years, but it was long enough to produce one of rock musics more enduring catalogs. I know it is a bit trite, and I know that popularity does not prove quality. But everyone and their estranged cousin owns "Chronicle." Plus, if it is good enough for The Dude, it is good enough for me.

One of baseball's stupidest rules (and, questioning the wisdom of a fat closer)

Tonight, Bob Wickman blew a save in Atlanta.

But that doesn't even tell the whole story. He sucked. SUCKED.

Almost 40 pitches. Half of which were balls. Got hit hard, by a pathetic offensive team whose only weapon is their steroid abusing husk of a leftfielder.

I have two problems with this performance, which I will tackle in turn. First: Why the hell do the Braves insist on trotting out a seriously overweight closer in the stifling August heat in Atlanta? Second: Why will tomorrow's boxscore read "WP- Wickman?"

On the first topic:

Bob Wickman is a professional athlete. That's right, this guy. Let that sink in.

And yet, in this, the hottest month of the year, in this, the nastiest, most humid region of the country, the Braves expect this man to succeed in an outdoor physical activity that doesn't involve Joey Chestnutt downing hotdogs (USA! USA! USA!).

And maybe, if Wickman were an aberration, I would not have a problem. But the Braves have a history of making the Bellsouth Call to the Bullpen to fat guys.

Juan Berenguer. Antonio Alfonseca (the six-fingered man). Ray King. Kevin Gryboski. Dan Kolb (who is listed, derisively, and appropriately as "Danny" on baseball-reference.com).

And they have a number of fat guys out there right now. Chad Paronto. Tyler Yates (who I think I read somewhere is gay). And the subject of this rant, one Bob Wickman.

I have no problem per se with fat guys. I am rapidly heading into that fine fraternity myself.

I just know as a frustrated Braves fan, I remember years of questionable bullpens. And living here in this unbearably hot and humid swath of the country, I have come to realize that being in shape is essential in trying to survive the elements. Maybe the Braves bullpens of years past were doomed to fail by their waistlines- they were bound to blow leads and cower in a puddle of fat-man sweat in the Atlanta heat.

(Of course, my fat man hypothesis says nothing of the colossal failures of one Chris Reitsma, or the current gopher-ball tendencies of one Rafael Soriano. But you get my point.)

On the second:

Bob Wickman was the WINNING PITCHER. Despite his pathetic performance, he gets the same boost in the win column as a starting pitcher who pitches a perfect game with 20 strikeouts. How is this fair?

Back in the day (or, more appropriately, way back in the day), a winning pitcher was almost always the starting pitcher, who took the slings and arrows and carried his team for the bulk of the game. A pitcher who pitches a complete game and wins 10-9: hey, you deserve the win. You were the guy on the hill who allowed the other guys fewer runs than your guys scored. A pitcher who pitches a complete game and loses, 1-0: deserving of the loss. As harsh as it sounds, you got bested by the other guy. Better luck next time.

But with the advent of frequently-used bullpens (thank you, Sparky Anderson), wins and losses have much less relevance. And if you need any more proof of this reduced relevance, look no further than tonight's result in Atlanta. The man who had more to do with the Braves blowing their lead and nearly losing was credited with a "win." What a bullshit statistic.

Under the rules, I understand. He was the "pitcher of record." But something must be done to straighten these things out, so that "Wins" and "Losses" for pitchers have some kind of meaning.

For one, I think a pitcher should only get a win if he has (and I know this is subjective as hell, but bear with me) a "good" performance. You keep your team in the game, and they take the lead, you should get credit. But if you come into a tie game, get an out with one pitch, and then watch your team rally with your warmup jacket on, you should not get the same amount of credit as Don Larsen in the 1956 World Series.

Many of the anachronistic rules on who gets credited with a "win" are based on the notion that some pitcher must get credited with a "win," while another must get blamed with a "loss." But why is this? Why must every game have a "winning pitcher?"

I think that there should be games without a "winning" or "losing" pitcher. Think about it. The boxscore's description of WP and LP infrequently tells you who actually played a role in his teams outcome. So do away with it. Give a "win" if a starting pitcher pitches well and his team wins as a result. Give a "win" if a relief pitcher makes an impressive contribution and makes a victory possible. But don't give a "win" just because someone has to get one.

If Harvey Haddix pitches 13 perfect innings and his team loses because of an error, he should not get saddled with a loss. And if Bob Wickman and his fat ass blows a lead, and gets bailed out by the ever-impressive Chipper Jones, he should not get credited with a "win."

Grunge fans can continue to use their illusion...

My esteemed blogging colleague (blolleague?) brings up an excellent point about everyone's favorite greasy haired messiah. Pearl Jam was way better than Nirvana. Apologies to Peter Cooper. (http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendID=73765385)

More significantly, though, there is one significant myth about Nirvana that need to be debunked.

That myth being: Nirvana killed hair metal.
I used to spout this child of the 90's party line myself, but it just is not true. Look at the facts.

Bon Jovi released Keep the Faith the year after Nevermind. That was a successful album, with 2 pretty big singles on it. Bon Jovi followed that up with a platinum greatest hits album. So they survived the supposed culturally shattering moment of Nevermind okay.

Aerosmith sold 7 million freaking copies of Get a Grip, released in 1993. For what seemed like the next 3 years, they were all over MTV with those Alicia Silverstone videos.

Guns N Roses (pause, everyone, for a moment of silence in honor of crazy-ass Axl) dominated MTV in the year following the release of Nevermind.

Metallica did not even bother to become popular until the years following Nevermind. They probably remain (for some reason) America's most popular heavy metal act.

So there were bands, contrary to the gospel of the 90s, that survived those opening chords of "Smells Like Teen Spirit" (which, I might add, sound suspiciously like the chorus of Boston's "More than a Feeling").

So what if Poison never released a successful album after Nirvana hit the scene. Same for Ratt, or LA Guns, or any number of other hair metal bands. Those bands had limited life spans to begin with. They stopped being popular, not because Kurt Cobain sang unintelligible lyrics while wearing a cardigan. They stopped being popular because they happened to hit their expiration date as a cultural phenomenon at the same exact time as Nirvana crept out of obscurity and into every unbearable teenager's record collection.

There have been plenty of musical trends that died sudden deaths prior to hair metal. And nobody asserts that they have a single, tangible killer. For example, Psychedelic Rock had a very similar shelf life to hair metal. But the Eagles don't get credit for making it irrelevant. Nor do Black Sabbath (as much as they rocked they were never really popular, you can look it up). So why do Nirvana get credit for "killing" a musical trend (that, as the continued popularity of bands like Aerosmith and Bon Jovi demonstrates) was never actually killed?

Nirvana did not kill hair metal. Anyone who tells you that Nirvana did kill hair metal is delusional. And they probably smell bad, too.

Please

Stop making references to:

1. Caddyshack

2. Animal House

3. Fletch

The movies aren't as funny as you remember.

Fighting Foo Since '95

The Foo Fighters are a little more than a month away from releasing a new album and whenever they do I always think of Dave Grohl's other band. I ask myself "Are the Foo Fighters a better band than Nirvana?". And the answer is always yes. Now I'm not saying the Foo Fighters are a more influential band, I'm just saying they are better.

I think the reason I like the Foo Fighters more is because their music has always seemed timeless to me. What I mean is that I think their music would be popular in any era of rock history. Nirvana, on the other hand, represents an era of history. And the only reason Nirvana represents Seattle grunge music is because Kurt Cobain died. Up until that point Pearl Jam was the biggest, most important grunge band on the planet. After Cobain committed suicide the rock critics finally had their tragic figure along the lines of Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin or Jim Morrison (Morrison especially). Had he not died, I believe Nirvana would have been considered a second-tier grunge band like Alice in Chains or Soundgarden.

If I'm feeling nostalgic about the early 90's (not something that happens too often) I'd play a Nirvana album (or more likely Pearl Jam). However, whenever I want to rock out, I'd always choose the Foo Fighters (of the two) and am never disappointed.

A gay postscript

A few quick thoughts on other topics related to homosexuality, and then I am out (perhaps not a wisely chosen phrase, but here I go):

1. I cannot wait for the day in which a high profile, team sports athlete comes out of the closet during his playing days. Especially if that athlete is a badass football player based in a southern market. I really hope it forces the ignorant and hateful segment of our population to address their issues with homosexuality.

I really thought the first openly gay football player would be Ricky Williams. And I was rooting for that. All those people who cheered him on at Texas would know, no matter what they would say now, that they cheered for a gay man. That would be awesome.

Instead, Ricky just came out as a drugged-out flake.

2. It killed me that Todd Jones, a product of my hometown of Marietta GA, was one of the athletes leading the anti-gay charge a few years back. I generally found him to be a pretty funny guy, and I always feel compelled to root for the hometown guys. But then he had to use his Sporting News article as a pulpit for his own spiteful views.

His anti-gay writing was somewhat ironic, though, given that he bears more than a passing resemblence to the biker guy from the Village People.

3. I think that Scott Thompson is an underrated force in people's acceptance of homosexuality. People talk of the "Will and Grace" effect on middle America, but I believe Scott Thompson was laying that groundwork years and years ago.

As I hinted before, middle schools in the south are fertile grounds for gay bashing. We thought nothing of calling people "faggots," or playing "smear the queer."

And yet, when they started to show "Kids in the Hall" reruns on Comedy Central, my friends and I watched. And thought that Scott Thompson was awesome. And had no misconceptions whatsoever that he was gay.

Prior to becoming a big "Kids" fan, I probably would have told you (while drinking Hi-C and after doodling football logos in the margins of my notebooks) that I would be less of a fan of a rock band if they came out as gay, or that I would be less of a fan of an athlete if I learned he was gay.

But I watched "Kids in the Hall," and I thought Scott Thompson was hilarious.

To make my belabored point, liking Scott Thompson made me realize it was okay to like gay people. And this, while this seems like it should be an unremarkable realization, when you are in seventh grade, it is a very critical step in your development towards becoming a tolerant and reasonable human being.

4. To add a postscript to post #3, "Kids in the Hall" is better than "Saturday Night Live" (including the Aykroyd-Belushi years). I am sorry, but it just is.

This is gay

Probably not a great topic to address out of the box. I have no intention of using this space to raise points that may in any way be socially constructive. But our carefully crafted poll question has made me think: is it okay to use the word gay pejoratively?

I like to consider myself culturally sensitive. But sometimes the 12 year old in the schoolyard comes out and I find myself using the word "gay" to describe something, when what i really mean is that thing sucks.

The Braves' bullpen is gay. "Hogan Knows Best" is gay. The new Michelob bottle is gay. I use the term offhanded all the time.

And I use these phrases and others like it to describe things negatively, even though they have no connection to homosexuality at all. Except maybe the Braves' bullpen. Tyler Yates, I am looking in your direction.

This is almost certainly very unfair. (By "this," I mean use of the word "gay" negatively. Not my unprovoked shot at a journeyman relief pitcher.) I bear absolutely no ill will towards homosexuals. I would never clumsily try to express that something sucked by saying it was "black," or "Asian," or anything along those lines.

So why is it okay to use the word gay?

I used to try to rationalize it all the time, by saying that I did not mean the word as a slur against homosexuals. But then I saw an interview with Eminem where he said the same thing, and he sounded like an ignorant dumbass. I realized then that I sounded like the same ignorant dumbass whenever I spouted similar drivel.

And instinctively, I tended to use that phrase less around my gay friends. That tells me that deep down, I probably realize that it is wrong.

Yet, I still occasionally use the word "gay" to indicate that something sucks, without any grand plan behind my saying it. It is a piercing, direct, and sometimes even a funny word to use.

But I am coming to the conclusion that using the word "gay" pejoratively is probably wrong.

I am sure that the 12 year old in me will almost certainly take over from time to time, and I will use the word "gay" when I should not. I know myself too well to think that I am going to change my regrettable speech patterns overnight.

And sometimes, the word just seems to fit in a conversation, as a blunt and clumsy way to express an attempt at humor. When that happens, I am sure that I will let the "gay" word slip.

But, overall, I am coming to the conclusion that using the word "gay" pejoratively is a really gay thing to do.