Mastersball

I have had my running back issues in fantasy football this year, for sure.

A lot of the problem was rooted in my freezing Ryan Mathews in the NAIFFL, where my team is a solid 0-2 going into Week 3. Similarly, in the Experts Schmexperts League, where I also have Mathews, I am 0-2 as well, while in my other two leagues, where Marshawn Lynch and Arian Foster are my go-to guys, things are a lot better.

So, I did indeed put in bids for Andre Brown in all my leagues, even the two where my teams are doing pretty well.

Which is exactly where I think a lot of what makes me a good fantasy baseball player completely hoses me as a fantasy football player.

That is, I am very good at being patient with both allowing my players to do their thing, as well as parlaying my FAAB money over the course of the baseball season. Meanwhile, I am slowly learning that spending one's FAAB sooner, rather than later is really the way to go in football.

What it basically meant was in the NAIFFL, I bid $1 (of my season cap $30 total) on Brown, only to lose him to Rob Leibowitz, who obtained the Giants RB for a meager $4. In Kathy League Gifford I was a tad more aggressive, bidding $12 of my $100 total, but my mate Gabe Ramirez bagged the Giant for $46, money that based upon yesterday's performance was well spent.

My other leagues--Experts Schmexperts and Utter Genius (hey, I only play in them, I did not name them)--there is only straight waivers, based upon one's spot in the standings. Well, in Genius my team was too good to get him, while in Schmexperts, I am not quite bad enough.

Still, in two leagues being a little more aggressive would have made not just the difference of adding Brown and his points to my teams, but would have similarly prevented my opponents from having them.

Meaning points on my bench, at worst, are better than points on someone else's active roster. Which makes total sense to me in the baseball environment, yet I am thick to embrace when it comes to football.

So odd, our brains and how they work.

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OK, I am sorry, but I need to be political here, so if you have had your fantasy fill and wish not to have your sensibilities disrupted, look away now.

Now, you may never have heard about Senate Bill 3457, which was also called the Veterans Jobs Corps Bill. It was a bill that was actually written in a bi-partisan fashion this year, and which had funds agreed upon and allocated. The purpose of the bill was to assist our returning Veterans with civil service jobs, like with our local police and fire departments. Jobs where the experience in the Middle East would translate and assist Vets--who currently have an unemployment rate of 10.9% as opposed to the 8.1% the rest of the country lives under--find a job upon return.

I think it is also important to note that at present a Vet commits suicide every 80 minutes, largely as a result of adjusting to life back home, and one of those frustrations is an unemployment rate that is 35% higher than the rest of us.

SB 3457 died last Wednesday (Sept 19) due to a filibuster. When it died, there were 58 senators--including five Republicans--who had voted for the bill, with 40 voting against, meaning four more "yes" votes would have passed the bill.

Well, there were four Republican Senators--John Boozman (Ark), Pat Toomey (Penn), Mike Johanns ((Neb), and Richard Burr (North Ca.)--who all participated in drafting SB 3457. They were soliticted relative to what they wanted to see in the bill, and wrote specific portions adding those concerns.

Yet, on Wednesday, all four voted against the bill.

Apparently, these guys suggested they were not voting against Veterans, but rather voting against a rule that had to be waived in order to generate a vote.

Well, apparently the 58 yeahs--including those five partymates--were not so principled, but my first question would be why these guys spent time (and wasted our tax payers money) working on a bill in support only to vote against it?

My second question would be to Americans in general, asking if this really sounds like the Senate and country wants to support the Vets (and our president who suggested the bill) or simply discredit folks and try to obtain/retain power?

If the latter, well then apparently a democracy is not what is sought.

Either way, these guys should be ashamed of themselves.

I am fine with as many people as possible voting in our country, and though I have my own political preferences--which I suppose are not a secret--everyone does indeed need to vote their beliefs and conscience.

However, I do hope we can all be honest with ourselves and motives, and what is best for the whole country--including those Veterans (and please note I was publicly against the Middle East Wars from the start)--who served when asked and now get the political shaft.

Again, Toomey, Burr, Johanns, and Boozman should be ashamed of themselves.

I have had my issues about how baseball operates over the years, and especially questions about Commissioner Bud Selig. In fact a bunch of years back, when Selig appeared at a press conference in Oakland where a new stadium was being discussed, the first word that came to my mind was dottering.

And there are a host of items baseball as policy and decision makers has messed up in my opinion over the years, starting with their initial hodgepodge approach to HGH, use of instant replay, and April schedule to name a few.

But, with the announcement of the 2013 schedule, and related changes with the Astros moving to the AL West, all I can say is "kudos for a job well done."

To start, though the Astros might resent the move to the Junior Circuit, they might take a look and see which league has been more dominant over the past decade or so, especially when it comes to All Star games and big name players, for the American League was surely good enough for Prince Fielder and Albert Pujols.

And, well, the 'Stros get to play in a division with the Rangers and Angels, along with the resurgent Athletics and rebuilding Mariners. That is a division that could see three post-season teams this fall, if the Anaheimers can excel and make some Wild Card noise with Oakland.  Which means it is pretty competitive.

Further, I dismiss the anti-intellectual Lance Berkman, who said he did not like the move because Houston was a "National League city," and that Milwaukee was better suited to move to the AL because it was an American League town. I guess Berkman never heard of the Milwaukee Braves--you know with Hank Aaron and Eddie Matthews--for one thing, but the whole thing reminds me of  what QB great Johnny Unitas said when the Baltimore Ravens got their name.

That team moniker derived from Edgar Allen Poe, who lived his later years and died in Baltimore. But, Unitas not only did not get it, he noted that the name "had nothing to do with football." Yeah Johnny U. I forgot, that every time I think of a baby horse football is the next thing that comes to mind!

Anyway, first and foremost, by re-aligning as such, we now have six five-team divisions which makes so much sense it hurts.

The next thing the powers that be did was eliminate the two-week windows of inter-league play, and instead scheduled the games as everyday business as usual, just like the inter-conference games the NFL plays every week. Meaning a fun match up, but no big deal. It also means the natural rivalries that pit say Oakland versus San Francisco will still occur, and draw fans. Just like when the Dodgers are at ATT, or even the Yankees at the O.co Coliseum.

In other words, no fuss, no muss.

Now, I know there are those who think this is all an abomination. For example, I read Ely Sussman's Bleacher Report piece where he notes "five teams get screwed with the scheduling."

But I think he is off-base.

First, irrespective, teams have always been hosed here and there by the schedule. And, while it might be a pain for Seattle to fly to San Diego, it is just over a two-hour flight. How many hours on the train or the bus did players endure in those storied "good old days."

Sussman also notes that teams like the Dodgers have to travel to the East and "have the daunting task of making trips to Camden Yards, Rogers Centre and Yankee Stadium. All three—due to combinations of their dimensions and wind patterns—are known to favor batters."

I guess it is too bad the Bums never have to play at Coors, or Atlanta which are not as batter friendly, or Wrigley where there is no wind.

I think the point is there is no perfect solution, or at least the bottom line is with every solution there will likely be a new set of problems.

But that is life.

More to the point, baseball is a paradox. It is some how this perfect blend of rules and parameters and theory, but those all get mashed up against the dice of human abilities and judgements. And, as a result, we see things every year we have never seen before despite over a century of statistics and a reasonably thick rule book.

In fact, I think back to earlier this year when the Dodgers were in Oakland, with their ace, Clayton Kershaw facing spot starter Travis Blackley. I remember at the time thinking this was not a fair matchup. And, Blackley pitched eight innings of three-hit ball, and won. That is one of the beauties of baseball: you just never know.

So, I think Sussman is simply nit-picking, and not thinking of the bigger whole, any more than Berkman.

However, since equanimity is now pushing on all baseball fronts, perhaps we can now resolve the DH Mr. Selig?

I am used to it, so I don't mind keeping it if you must. Just make it so both leagues play it the same way, either with, or without?

Please?

I love this time of year.

Baseball pennants and fantasy titles with teams bouncing from first to third to second back to first, and then down to third again.

In the mean time, football season is right here and that means the last couple of weeks have been littered with fantasy drafts.

Oddly, somehow I have found myself in four fantasy football leagues. And, though I can indeed play fairly competitively when I want to, since I spend so much time really looking at baseball and numbers so I mostly play football just for fun. I don't pay attention to the transactions like I do baseball, aside from trying my best to not play players who are too injured from week-to-week.

Which does not mean I don't like winning, or drafting the best team I can.

But, as with baseball, I love watching football, and in my house one of the best times of the year is a cold Sunday with my perched on the couch with the dogs lying about, while Diane is sitting at the other end, reading about various animal diseases. Since the weather is chilly, it means a fire is going, and also means I am concocting some soup or other ideally warming winter meal to tide us through the long day of the NFL schedule.

Since I do indeed have players scattered around from team to team, of course I can enjoy a Julio Jones 87-yard TD reception, just as much as I dread a Jay Cutler interception.

I do have to admit, though, it does make it more fun to watch and root for "my guys," if you know what I mean.

Anyway, over the past week-plus, I have indeed been drafting in my four leagues. Two of the leagues did slow drafts over a few days, and one was a live draft where I preset my picks (all three of these set ups were from the terrific MyFantasyLeague.com run by our compatriot Mike Hall) and with the help of Commissioner Zola, fielded an interesting team, albeit not one I might normally have walked away with. Which kind of makes it fun for me in a different way.

But, in the league run by my friend Michael Duca, hence forth known as the "Utter Genius League" for whatever reasons, I hunkered down last Monday evening and actually selected my team live, in real time.

Now, I had already faced what I thought would be the conundrum in Utter Genius, having drafted Ray Rice four years ago, Arian Foster three years ago, and Cam Newton last year.

For, we had always been allowed a pair of keepers so while I spent the summer thinking I would probably keep Rice and Foster, making a trade for a high pick was a possibility, and the pairing of Newton with one of my RB's for my Smith Brothers (I had both Steve and Torrey last year) team made this year's prospects very bright indeed.

And, then the league voted to drop down to one keeper, coupled with I got the 12th pick in a 14-team league.

So much for advantage, though I did keep Foster.

Anyway, after all the freezes, and the first twelve picks were spoken for, the top tier of Quarterbacks had all pretty much been nabbed making that slot thinner than Running Back, so I took Marshawn Lynch with my first pick, and took Wesley Welker with my return selection, following up with Miles Austin and then Aaron Hernandez.

That meant I had made six picks and had no signal caller. But, all was ok. I thought I could take Jay Cutler or Carson Palmer with my next pick, and follow up with Robert Griffin III.

But that is when things went awry, as both were taken before my pick, and then Andrew Luck was nabbed as well, meaning whatever plan I had was sort of gone.

In the end I did take Palmer, gambling that the Oakland vertical game would be complementary, and would up with Russell Wilson as the crapshoot backup who can scramble. I also gambled on a bunch of other rookies like Isaiah Pead, Michael Floyd, and Brian Quick to go with the Bears defense and the usual clutter.

It was kind of strange for in the past I have indeed been able to sneak the likes of Foster or Newton by the league, but this time, nada.

Still, as long as they stay healthy the offensive possibilities seem pretty good.

At least good enough for Sunday on the couch with home made cheddar biscuits and chowder.

I guess there must be Boston on the brain. Last week I wrote about the travesty that is Bobby Valentine (Bite Me Bobby V.) and as I write I am getting ready to trek off to the Coliseum and score the Athletics/Red Sox contest.

In the mean time, one of my favorite players--Bill Lee, aka The Spaceman--made Bay Area news last week with a singular feat: He became the oldest man to start and win a professional baseball game.

Now 65, the spacey Boston southpaw and maintstay of the mid-70's, winning 17 games each year between 1973-75, and participated in what has always been my favorite Fall Classic, the Red Sox/Reds duel of 1975 (I highly recommend Roger Angell's terrific book Five Seasons which culminates with that magic 1975 Series, and some great Lee quotes, among others).

Lee was against the war in Vietnam, had admitted to smoking marijuana, actually read a book without pictures, and referred to Red Sox icon Don Zimmer as a gerbil: a moniker that many of us still associate with Zim.

He flipped off Yankees fans and wore things like beanies with propeller and a gas mask to the mound at various times, confounding the baseball establishment with his irreverance, expressing his free spiritedness, and yet confusing further by taking his mound duties beyond seriously, logging a career 119-90, 3.62 mark over 225 starts and 1944.1 innings. His post season numbers show an 0-0, 2.93 line over four games, two starts, and 15.1 innings, and those two starts were both in that 1975 October Cincy matchup.

Lee was an All Star in 1973, and finished 23rd in the 1975 MVP voting, and always had a quotable quote. For example, if memory serves, after the Red Sox came from behind to tie the Series at three each, with the improbable Carlton Fisk game winning homer (which was preceded by the equally dramatic Bernie Carbo pinch hit homer) reporters crowded Lee, asking how he classified this incredible contest.

"Tied" was the Spaceman's response.

Lee retired from baseball in 1983, but continued to play in the Vermont Senior League, and came to San Rafael last week, inking a one game deal to start for the San Rafael Pacifics, beating the Maui Na Koa Ikaika with a complete game, allowing four runs and eight hits, tossing 94 pitches, 64 for strikes.

Lee does spend time in Northern California, where he maintains a home and is part owner of a winery that produces Napa Valley Cabernets and Syrahs.

And, well, maybe it is all publicity, and maybe just part media and part fun, but for sure, Bill Lee marches to his own drummer. Which is one reason I always liked him so much.

Unfortunately, last week while he was twirling his game, we were on vacation near Lake Tahoe, so I could not attend the game, but I am betting Lee will want to stay on top of his mark, and you can bet the next time he is in the area publicly chucking the pill, I will do my best to be in attendance.

And for sure, get a great Spaceman quote!

In the mean time, here's to you Bill Lee, another one of the guys that makes baseball memorable, fun, not to mention reminding us it is a game.

One of my leisurely summer reads has been David Halberstam's "October 1964," a book that chronicles the collapse of the mighty New York Yankees dynasty that dominated the baseball universe from the late 40's to the early 60's.

1964 was the Bronx Bombers last hurrah for a number of years and Halberstam sets the table of the book by discussing the Yankee managers--in fact baseball managers and owners--for in 1964 the team was just a couple of years removed from Casey Stengal.

One of the reasons I enjoyed the author's analysis regarding the front office and the guys at the helm was that I always wondered why it seemed the same old recycled guys kept popping up managing one team, then another, and then another with very little in the way of ultimate success.

Mind you I turned 12 after the 1964 Series, but even then I was aware that the likes of Alvin Dark and Birdie Tibbets and Johnny Keane and Leo Durocher had all had multiple gigs managing at the big league level. Plus, I knew there were a lot more guys like them, and though it was that some of these gentlemen did not have their success, it still seemed strange to me that rarely was a new face introduced into what seemed like a secret club.

Well, times and players and salaries and mores have indeed changed since 1964--and Halberstam again sets the tone for this noting salaries and attitudes were changing, making it tough for a player from the 30's to relate to a player of the 60's--and there has been much better movement in baseball managers. And, I think that is for the better.

So, though I sort of understood the canning of Terry Francona at the end of last season, I was pretty much flabbergasted by the team's signing of Bobby Valentine to the managing slot. 

First, I guess it is true that the team ran amok in 2011; however, it was Francona who guided the Sox to not one, but two titles, putting the Curse of the Bambino firmly in the franchise's collective rear view mirror.

Second, I cannot believe that Theo Epstein--newly departed for Chicago--would have made the move. Oh, he may well have cut ties with Francona, but no way he would have hired the volatile Valentine.

But, even more to the--and Halberstam's point--Valentine has not been a very good major league manager, with a career won/loss of 1176-1138 (.508) with just one pennant to his name with the Mets in 2000, over 16 years.

Further, he is much like Halberstam's assessment of the likes of Eddie Stankey and Solly Hemus of the 60's: solid enough players of the 40's who thought the way to motivate a team was to be adversarial and a disciplinarian. And, well, with today's players and salaries and system, that just does not work.

That does not mean a manager cannot be firm, for that is appropriate and necessary no matter what the discipline, for employees always need to know who is in charge, plain and simple.

And, it is not like this year's underachieving Sox are all on Valentine's shoulders, for certainly injuries to Carl Crawford and Jacoby Ellsbury among others certainly contributed to the bad year. But, back to management in general, the terrible trade for Andrew Bailey did not help either.

Still, just Valentine's handling of Kevin Youkilis says it all to me, for Youk had trouble producing for Valentine (.233-4-14 and a .315 OBP over 146 at-bats) and while his average is not what we are used to with Chicago, the numbers are way better at .246-11-34 over 171 at-bats with a .368 OBP. Oh yeah, an .835 OPS for the Pale Hose as opposed to the .692 for Boston suggesting Youk still had something in his stick that Valentine could not reach.

And, that is the manager's job, to bring out the best of his or her empolyees no matter the environ.

Well, Bobby does not do that, and were he successful more often than not it could be excused.

But he is not. Rather, he is an opinionated loud mouth much better suited to make stupid comments from the press box second guessing managers who actually know what they are doing.

I actually had a baseball related topic in my head for this week's tome, but I guess a week in the redwoods singing and playing guitar--from Celtic to Motown to blue grass to some seriously cranked out progressive jamming--still has me in a music mood.

Well, that and the fact that as I soaked in a hot shower this morning, Norman Greenbaum's "Spirit in the Sky" came on the radio (yes, we still have a radio in the bathroom). Now, I have to confess I never even close to liked this song, not so much because it proselytizes, but because the words and rhymes are really dumb. I mean, rhyming "die" with "sky" and "rest" with "best"? Pathetic (don't these guys ever listen to a Lennon and McCartney rhyme, or Richard Thompson or Ray Davies couplet?).

Still, my overall ambivalence to the song pales compared to some of the songs that really bother me, and just so this critique does not seem so random, a month back a group of us were discussing just that: What is the worst song ever?

So, I will list my Top Five, although I also claim the privilege of ranting for a minute on a couple of other music irritations. Like how I wish they would not play so much Journey at ATT, for though the band had chops, they never put together a tune half as good as, dare I say it, "Spirit in the Sky." I swear every time "Don't Stop Believin'" is played, my mate David Feldman and I start in with what they mean by South Detroit is Toronto.

I am trying to like The Killers, but I just can't. I wish I could. But, their stuff just gets on my nerves. I have "Hot Fuss," and had hopes, but they come off a lot more like Maroon5. And, it is not like I don't love pop rock. When I play with my band Strictly Olga, that is what we do, in fact that is what I write.

But, just so you don't think I am turning into a total curmudgeon, I do love Arcade Fire and White Stripes and Black Keys, and Kings of Leon among current bands. Not to mention The Shins.

But ok, I digress. And, before I note the songs I think are the worst ever, I would like to encourage you to tell me yours, for if you are reading this, I am guessing you are a baseball fan, and if you are a baseball fan, that means you are a fan of lists. And, well, if you are a fan of lists....Need I say more (the songs are linked to their respective Wikipedia page)?

You can email me at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it with your nominations.

Lawr's Top Five Most Hated Songs

5.  Incense and Peppermints Strawberry Alarm Clock (1967): I always felt this quasi-psychedelic tune from flower power days was vastly overrated. These were the days of the Airplane and Moby Grape and the Mamas and the Papas. The Beatles were toying with TNK ("Tomorrow Never Knows") and the Stones were playing with Their Satanic Majesty's Request. The Doors were hot, and though the Alarm Clark tune was sort of catchy, I have no clue what the words mean. Not that this is necessary in any song (who knows all the words to "Wooly Bully?") but the truth is this song always gave me a headache. Pure and simple.

4. You Light up my Life Debbi Boone (1977): I was nowhere close to AM radio--mercifully--when this song came out. In fact I listened to KSAN, one of the first album oriented rock (AOR) stations in the country, where playing a set featuring Joni Mitchell, Gene Amons, and the Tubes (at the time) was not unusual. Still, the song just gives me the creeps. In fact, every time I see that awful "life lift" commercial with Ms. Boone, where they play the song and she sort of pretends to ad lib the lyric, the best thing that happens in I hit the mute button. I don't mind corny. But, I hate stupid. Boone won the best new artist Grammy for that song, which is one more than the Beatles ever won and which validates how meaningless the awards are.

3. Seasons in the Sun Terry Jacks (1974): Hard to believe this song could be so creepy. It is, after all based upon a Jacques Brel tune, and the English words were by Rod McKuen. Brel was great, and though McKuen kind of hippy dippy trippy, there are a lot of poets who are worse. As for the song, double ugh. Maudlin. Maybe it is the sugary (I think Jacks was also the lead voice of the Archies) vocals, for I can hear Brel delivering this in a spoken form and it not bothering me nearly so much. And, there are death songs, like Tell Laura I Lover Her, Teen Angel, and even Dicky Lee's Patches that I don't mind at all despite the similar theme. Like I said: double ugh.

2. In the Year 2525 Zager and Evans (1969): I was 16 years old when this song came out, and right away I knew a bad song when I heard one. Ripped from really fine and prophetic ideas, like Aldous Huxley's "Brave New World," and George Orwell's "1984" this song was like a bad Star Trek episode. Maybe the one with the space hippies and the guy named Adam who were looking for Eden, and of whom Spock noted, "we reach." Pandering is the best word I can think of. But, at the time my family subscribed to "Time" magazine, and I remember there was a review of the Zager and Evans album in it. Somehow I also remember that it was suggested that the other songs on the album were "equally prophetic" to "2525." Really? How prophetic. Cos I think they mean bad. The difference is I knew it then.

1. An Open Letter at a Teenage Son Victor Lundberg (1967):  It was obnoxious and--as with what seems a common thread here--pandering. In the worst way. Seizing upon the fear of hippiedom and the changes that flower power proposed, this song is written from the perspective of "I don't understand you and I don't want to, but I will try to accept you except if you prove to be un-American and then I will never let you in my house again." So much for free will, thinking and open dialogue. This song actually hit #10 on Billboard, and was nominated for a Grammy. Once again showing that in the year "Light My Fire," "Hey Girl," "White Rabbit," "Omaha," "I'm So Glad," "A Day in the Life," and "2,000 Light Years From Home"  were also released, the Grammy voters had no clue.

Again, let me know the songs that drive you wacky at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it .

And, just in case, some time in the future, we will take a look at the best songs ever!

Now, I have to start this piece with I love our country, wonderful melting pot, and land of opportunity that it is.

My parents both fled the holocaust, and while my mother's family (she mirgrated to the states when she was 15 with her mother and father) all settled here, the remainder of my father's side of the house all settled in that current Olympic hub of London.

In San Francisco, my folks met in 1940, and married in 1942, just before my father, who became a citizen thanks to the draft in World War II, shipped off for the European theatre. When he came home he went to Hastings College of the Law--on the GI bill--and eventually became a constitutional lawyer and ultimately a judge.

Meaning he had a pretty successful life thanks to the opportunities our country afforded. And, I have been lucky enough to benefit further, attending the good public schools in the 50's and 60's, then getting undergraduate and graduate degrees at the California State University of the East Bay (at the time known as Hayward State).

Further, I am a sports junkie of sorts as you could probably guess by reading my baseball and football work. But, growing up I was a swimmer, played tennis and golf regularly, and I can even plug an Olympic connection having attended the 1960 Winter fete at Squaw Valley, where my mother worked for a month as an interpreter.

Furthermore, I love London, where I have a myriad of cousins.

But, I have to say that I couldn't care less any more about the Summer games of this year. I have watched only a few moments scattered in among the news stories and on televisions in public (honestly, I saw a few minutes of ping pong and some trampoline, and well, are those really sports? Honest).

 Worse, my disillusionment which I think of it for lack of better verbiage, seems to betting worse as I age; however, I don't think this is simply because I am getting closer to being a cranky old "you kids get out of my yard" kind of old man.

For one thing, like religion (or at least spirituality), I think national pride is one of those things that is more subtle and powerful when it is not smacked in our faces like advertising on cable TV. Which the Olympic games are, being a major part of such things mundane as probably Pepto Bismal being the "official dyspeptic relief formula of the Olympic games."

And, it is not that I am not happy for our countrymen and athletes winning awards, and being the world's best. I just don't like tallying and counting up the totals with the assumption that--especially in a global community--it means we are better than everyone else. For, again, we are a wonderful country in many ways. But, there are many other such, and, well, everywhere is home to someone. And, home is where the heart is, so...

But, I could relate to a piece I heard on NPR earlier in the week that said people were turned off by the advertising and jingoism and just overall in-your-face commercialism of the games, which are no longer even amatuer (was moving to professional status for the athletes a worse decision than DH or Astroturf?).

But, sort of like politics, I wish there were truly some fair way to underwrite games or elections so that everyone indeed had an equal chance as opposed to the biggest, richest, and baddest--and that could include both Russia and China--seemingly dominating everything in sight.

To me it just rings truer, with a sweeter tinge to victory, when there is a little national humility associated with the win. And, well, that is true for any kind of win, actually, be it in Scrabble or Yahtzee or the Men's 100 meter butterfly.

Oh, I wish I could get excited. I really do. And, it isn't that I want to be or feel cynical about the whole thing.

I just wish the Olympic committee would strip things back to something simpler, and truer to the ideas of sportsmanship and camaraderie that the original Grecian games sort of suggested, and that ideally were the point when the games were reannointed in 1896, also in Greece.

I think in doing so, it could make the whole event a lot more interesting. And fun.Though sadly, neither do I think would the approach be embraced by an action move reality TV People magazine culture.

Well, like I said: I am just turning into a cranky old man.

Editor's note: There will be no Bed Goes Up next Saturday as I will be in Cazadero, at music camp, where there is no wi fi and my cell phone just does not work.

Names are almost as fascinating--not to mention as much fun--as statistics, especially in baseball.

I mean, who doesn't love monikers like Terrific Wonderful Monds or Coco Crisp? Or even simply Milton Bradley?

In fact, I always imagined special baseball cards: you know the ones with two or three players and a clever title? Like Buc Hill Aces, a 1959 card that featured Elroy Face, Ron Kline, Vernon Law, and Bob Friend? Or Tribe Hill Trio, a 1962 card with Barry Latman, Dick Stigman, and Jim Perry?

Well, I wanted to design some of my own. Like Steve Decker and Bud Black, on a Black & Decker card. Or Chili Davis and Carney Lansford on a Chili con Carney card. Or especially Brook Jacoby and Joey Meyer on a Jacoby & Meyer card.

A couple of years back, I remember scoring an Athletics/Mariners game where each team had a Suzuki--Ichiro and Kurt--each team had a Sweeney--Ryan and Mike--and each team had a Chavez--Endy and Eric--in their respective starting lineup. That was wonderful!

Well, this year I could not help but notice the influx of Brandons on the Oakland Athletics.

To start with, last year the team had Brandon McCarthy, but this season they added Brandon Inge, Brandon Moss, and then Brandon Hicks.  And don't forget, that Brandon Allen was also on the team for a minute. While, across the bay, the Giants own Brandon Belt and Brandon Crawford.

I started thinking about that first name, Brandon. I could not remember a baseball card or player with that name as I was growing up. There were lots of Willies and Johnnys and Robbys, but no Shanes, and no Brandons.

Furthermore, I don't remember a team having four guys with the same first name before, let alone three of them being on the infield at the same time, but that is what the A's have indeed had on several occasions.

Anyway, I decided to check out the name Brandon, and lo and behold, no player made the majors with that first name until the year 2000, when Brandon Kolb and Brandon Villafuerte were the first.

In 2001 a slew of them followed, with Inge, Brandon Lyon, Brandon Knight, Brandon Duckworth, and Brandon Berger, and then the floodgates were open.

Since, those Brandons broke the name barrier, there have been a total of 35, which is a lot when you think there were none until 11 years ago, and over three a year on average since.

Compared to Shane--which first appeared in 1978 with Shane Rawley, then again in 1987 with Shane Mack, has only had a total of 17.

This does make me wonder how the name suddenly became so popular? When I was younger, Mike, and Bill, and Mary and Sue were vogue names. Oh, and Debbie. But, now it is Brandon and Zach and Alexandra.

But Shane or Brandon never hit it anywhere, save Alan Ladd in the terrific George Stevens movie of 1953 (don't forget the part of Joey Starrett, son of Van Heflin, who utters the infamous, "Come back Shane" line is played by another Brandon, in de Wilde).

But, just for fun, I was trying to guess the next big name, and I think I have it.

Dylan. Which we have to thank Bob Dylan for. Or at least his fans who named their kids after the great singer/songwriter.

As of now, only Dylan Axelrod has cracked the majors. But at present there are 26 Dylans working their way up the minors, with with the retired Dylan Tedders apparently being the first to even make that level.

As Bob Dylan did suggest: "Something is happening here, and you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones." However, that is a name I won't touch for every era seems to have had more than its share!

If you are old enough to remember the late 60's, then you remember the Buffalo Springfield tune, "For What It's Worth."

Well, to begin with the trivial, three of the principles of Buffalo Springfield were Neil Young, Steven Stills and Jim Messina, all of whom went on to pretty successful musical careers after their time in the legendary Canadian band.

But, equally important, "For What It's Worth" begins with the great lines:

"There's something happening here
What it is ain't exactly clear"

Well, if you have been following the Oakland Athletics, let alone spending time at the O.co Coliseum, those words might strike you, for as of a few hours ago, when Oakland dispatched the Yankees for the second straight evening, beating the Bronx Bombers on consecutive days in their home for the first time since 2006.

In the process, Oakland also stopped the Yankees consecutive game streak wherein the New Yorkers had tallied at least three runs over 43 straight games by beating them 3-2, with a walk off single by Brandon Moss in the bottom of the ninth.

In truth it has indeed been a while since the Athletics fielded a team that merited a lot of interest, but with the win, which put the Oaklanders five games over .500 at 49-44, putting the squad at 12-2 for the month of July, six games behind the second place Angels, in what now may be the toughest division in the AL, let alone majors.

So far this year, Brandon Moss and Chris Carter are a combined .263-16-29 over 129 at-bats covering first base for the Athletics. Last year over 382 at-bats between Daric Barton and Brandon Allen manning first were .209-3-32 and a year earlier, with Barton playing first base for 159 games and 556 at-bats, .273-10-57 was the total.

That means the Moss/Carter tandem are essentially already better than anything Oakland has put at first for the past two years, in one-third of the time.

With center fielder Coco Crisp red-hot (.328-2-4 over his last 17 games, with nine runs and three swipes. Newbie Yoenis Cespedes is equally smoking (.333-5-14 over his last 21 games) while Josh Reddick, with three hits Friday, lifted his his season totals to .274-21-46.

As for their pitchers, Travis Blackley (2-2, 2.86), Bartolo Colon (6-8, 3.88), Jarrod Parker (6-4, 3.16), A.J. Griffin (2-0, 2.70), Brandon McCarthy (6-3, 2.54), and Tommy Milone (9-6, 3.38) are good, and getting better.

In fact on Friday Milone tossed seven shutout innings, limiting the Yanks to six hits while whiffing ten, walking none, and never throwing a pitch over 89 MPH.  He threw first pitch strikes to 22 of the 25 hitters he faced, losing a win to homers to Russell Martin (allowed by Jerry Blevins in the eighth) and Robinson Cano (allowed by eventual winner Ryan Cook in the top of the ninth).

Still, it is hard to imagine the Athletics so successful with Brandon Inge (.207-7-38) holding third, Cliff Pennington (.197-3-16) at short, and Kurt Suzuki (.213-0-16) behind the dish, but somehow of late if not one of the above, then the likes of Seth Smith (.248-10-32)  or Jonny Gomes (.250-10-28)  provide the unlikely heroics.

Like Buffalo Springfield noted, whatever is happening is not clear. And, though it might not last, the extra playoff spot makes for some fun possibilities.

It also make going to the Oakland yard these days just about as much fun as hitting ATT. And that is not a bad thing.

Without trying to start off in a morbid way, one of the things I thought a lot about during the last years of my late wife and pal Cathy Hedgecock's life had to do with how I would prefer to go.

Cathy died of breast cancer, enduring it for seven years before it finally overcame a little lest than seven years ago.

Of course we were all happy to have the time with her, and for her to be around, but dying like that is a rugged burden in and of itself, and many times we talked with one another about whether it would be better to simply go to sleep and not wake up, or to live longer but have to endure the slow deterioration of one's mind and body.

Truth is I wondered this before Catthy and her illness, and, well, without meaning to demean the mystery of life and death, as I endured pitching issues in just about every fantasy front over the past two weeks I have begun to think about this analogy as it relates to my pitching staffs. And well, since pitching injuries have been so widespread that I have to think anyone reading this will relate. At least to the pitching portion, that is.

In Tout Wars my squad had moved up into a nice third place slot, and was cruising along, in fourth in wins, WHIP, and ERA, third in saves, and second in whiffs. And then Brandon McCarthy was on the DL for the second time, Derek Holland for almost a month, and C.C. Sabathia now for a couple of weeks, all joining Jeff Niemann on the team DL. That is four of my six starting pitchers on the Disabled List at the same time.

Crazy.

Fortunately I was able to turn Jose Valverde and Justin Masterson into Roy Oswalt just before Oswalt was activated. Or so I thought.

For, if you watched his start of last Tuesday against the White Sox, you know exactly what I mean. 4.2 innings, and 13 hits, 9 earned runs, and a walk (he did get four strikeouts anyway) and an ERA that has suddenly blossomed to 7.79 and a terrifying WHIP of 2.25 over 17.1 innings.

To compound the problem, Oswalt was relieved by a guy I really liked in Justin Grimm. He went three innings and surrendered three more runs and hits and a pair of walks, raising his ERA to 10.80.

So, between the pair, I moved from that comfy third place slot to tenth place overnight. Kind of like getting hit by a bus that runs a stop sign, right?

By contrast, I am in an NFBC Slow Draft League. That format is a 50-round draft and follow setup, meaning the 50 guys you take away from the draft are the 50 guys you finish with, like it or not. No free agents. No FAAB bidding. No trades. Period.

Well, in that league I selected 20 pitchers, and at last look 10 of them were on the DL. Worse, it looks like my #2 guy, Daniel Hudson is out until late 2013 with TJ surgery. Joining him were Sabathia, and Shaun Marcum over the last ten days, while Tim Stauffer, Alexi Ogando, and Niemann are all down. Not to mention Matt Capps, and while Dallas Braden and Eric Surkamp started the year injured, around draft time it was expected that both would be chucking the pill by All Star time.

In that league it got so tough that I could not even replace Sabathia, Capps, and Hudson, who all went on the DL almost two Sundays ago. Meaning I have been surviving or functioning or whatever with six pitchers the past two weeks.

And, well, dying a slow death, or so it seems.

Of course with the All Star Break there is hope and the chance for renewal.

Marcum, Sabathia, and Holland are all due back next week. In fact there are rumors that Holland might even get reactivated this weekend, though I will not be able to take advantage of that. Which means he will pitch like a champ, and then when I put him in the rotation to start after the break, he will get torched a la Oswalt.

I could go on with my pitching woes for the year. Like talking about LABR where I have Stauffer, and had Brian Wilson and Cory Luebke.

But, chances are you did not read this to hear me whine about my team and pitching woes.

My guess is you have enough of your own.