Category: MLB (Page 446 of 448)

This just gets sadder by the minute. The Baltimore Orioles sent Rafael Palmeiro home to let him rehabilitate his knee and ankle injuries on his own time table. This may seem like an act of generosity on the part of the Orioles, but I assure you it is anything but. He’s 2-26 with one RBI since his return from a ten game suspension for violating the steroids policy. He was getting booed so loudly on the road that he tried using ear plugs. Even the hometown faithful in Camden Yards took to giving him the Bronx cheer. And to think, just last year, last year, I attended an O’s game that happened to be Palmeiro bobblehead doll night. From collector’s item to landfill in just twelve short months.

The comments from both Palmeiro and the organization were superb exercises in damage control. The quotes from the team are hilarious, talking of it being in Raffy’s and the club’s best interest that he stay off his knee and let it heal properly. Translation: get the hell out of here, cheater. I can’t say I blame the O’s for taking that stance. Between Palmeiro and the Incredible Shrinking Sosa, they have been taking a PR beating this year.

The best line, though, is from Raffy himself.

“There’s been no controversy in my life at all, on and off the field. I’ve always been a type of person that does it the right way and follows the rules and does the right thing for the most part.”

Ryne Sandberg would beg to differ with this, I’m guessing.

Palmeiro clearly doesn’t want to go out like this; he knows that he has to put together one last solid, controversy-free season in order to have any chance at getting in the Hall. But what he needs to realize is that he’s now viewed no better than Pete Rose in the public eye. First he cheated, then he lied about it. Baseball has always had room for scoundrels, but nobody likes a player who takes advantage of people’s good nature, which Palmeiro did by banking on the fact that his entry into the 3,000/500 club would erase any misgivings about how he got there. He was wrong.

You blew it, Raffy. You blew it all. Now walk away.

Milton Bradley is feuding with Jeff Kent. Big surprise. Now Milton is playing the race card. Wow, I’m floored.

This guy is trouble. The Cleveland Indians made a great move last year when they dumped Bradley just before the season started. They wanted to develop their young players in a positive atmosphere. Now they’re in the Wild Card hunt. Bradley is a talented player, but had Cleveland kept him, he would have poisoned the clubhouse and destroyed the great chemistry.

Now the Dodgers have to deal with this idiot. Last year he threw his customary tantrums. This year he’s calmer, but his recent statements demonstrate that he’s not any smarter.

In Tampa Bay:
Down 4-2 in the top of the seventh, the Cleveland Indians have runners on second and third with one out. Leadoff hitter Grady Sizemore hits a chopper to third and Alex Gonzalez boots it, allowing a run to score and putting runners on first and third. Coco Crisp follows with a laser to right for a two-run triple and a 5-4 lead. Then, with two outs in the bottom of the ninth, Tampa’s leadoff hitter Julio Lugo singles to left-center off Tribe closer Bob Wickman and moves to third on Carl Crawford’s single. Crawford wastes no time stealing second, taking off on Wickman’s first pitch to Jorge Cantu. With the count 0-1, Wickman commits one of the most obvious balks you’ll ever see in a game, failing to come to a stop before delivering his pitch. Lou Pineilla explodes, and rightfully so, dropping f-bombs on any umpire who’ll look his way, but to no avail. Cantu sends Wickman’s next pitch up the middle but somehow, the rotund Wickman manages to knock the ball down with his glove, scamper off the mound and underhand it to first for the final out of the game, securing Cleveland’s sixth-straight win and seventh in their last eight games.

In New York:
The Blue Jays and Yankees are tied 2-2 heading into the eighth but Toronto takes a one-run lead on a Shea Hillenbrand RBI single. With two outs in the bottom of the eighth, Bernie Williams ties the game with a single to center, knocking in Tony Womack, but in the top of the ninth, Reed Johnson drives in the potential game-winning run with a two-out single off Mariano Rivera. Hideki Matsui promptly ties it back up with a leadoff homer off Toronto closer Miguel Batista, who’s converted saves in his last five outings. Batista then proceeds to get Jason Giambi on a grounder, walk Jorge Posada, strike out Womack, walk Robinson Cano and then, after intentionally walking Derek Jeter to load the bases, surrender a game-winning single to Felix Escalona.

The come-from-behind wins by the Indians and Yankees, coupled with Oakland’s 4-1 loss to the Tigers, leaves Cleveland and New York tied atop the AL Wild Card standings with the A’s a game back and the Twins 2.5 behind.

You don’t hear too many purists complaining about the Wild Card these days, and if they are, they’re friggin’ clueless because, while the AL race is tight, the NL standings are even crazier, with Houston, Philly, Florida, Washington and the Mets all within 2.5 games of each other. If I had to guess, I’d call Cleveland (hitters are hot, starters have been solid all year and the ‘pen is lights out) and Florida (great staff, some big bats and Jack McKeon), but it’s anybody’s guess at this point.

Pathetic. An arbitrator ruled that Kenny Rogers be reinstated, knocking his 20-game suspension down to 13 games, or “time served.” Basically, Bud Selig gets slapped on the wrist for a penalty that, frankly, was a slap on the wrist for Rogers. I have no doubt that if you were to look at Donald Fehr’s cell phone, you would find Selig’s number under the name “My Bitch.”

If I’m Selig right now, I’m pissed. It’s bad enough that the players’ union basically kicks the owners around like a stray dog, but the message this ruling sends to players is loud and clear: do whatever the hell you want. You want to assault a photographer? Have at it. You want to squeeze Sam Ryan’s tits on camera while she’s interviewing you? Great, let us know what they feel like. Did Peter Gammons say something you didn’t like? Slit his throat, then sell his head on eBay.

It’s open season now, kids. You think players were only beginning to act like complete idiots? Just wait. The gloves are off now. Next time Oliver Perez wants to kick someone, he won’t bother with a laundry cart, not when he can kick Joe Buck or a beat writer with no fear of reprisal. The Steroids Era may be coming to an end, but the Jackass Era has just begun.