Burn on, Big River, Burn on...

With two and a half months gone in the MLB season, the Bowler and Benny would like to tip the cap to Major League (for the material) and Bill Simmons (for the form) in a brief recap. Enjoy.



Willie Mays Hayes: What the hell league you been playing in?
Rick Vaughn: California Penal...
Willie Mays Hayes: Never heard of it. How'd you end up playing there?
Rick Vaughn: Stole a car.



I still remember shaking my head after diving into the mailbox this spring and emerging with my weekly ESPN magazine issue. Elijah Dukes and Delmon Young were gracing the cover with bats slung over shoulders, both wearing broad, affable smiles. The tagline read, "The Tampa Bay Devil Rays: MLB's best team in 2009 and other bold predictions". I knew Delmon Young for two reasons: he was the crown jewel of the 2003 draft (picked first overall) and he got suspended last year for 50 games in AAA for throwing his bat at an umpire. When you hitch your wagon to a horse like that, it's bound to be a fun ride. But (to continue this flimsy Oregon Trail analogy) when all is said and done, you'll probably end up with two tots in the ground from pneumonia, a busted spoke, rancid deer meat and a decidedly unpleasant drowning death. Elijah Dukes, on the other hand, was a complete unknown to me just a few short months ago. After reading up on him, I became even more concerned about "the future". I found out that Dukes has been arrested six times, fathered five children with four different women, been suspended three times by the Devil Rays organization and a partridge in a pear tree. Most recently, Dukes reportedly impregnated a 17-year-old girl on his step-grandmother's living room couch. When the girl confronted him about the pregnancy, Dukes "...got mad and threw a Gatorade at [her]." His estranged wife also got a restraining order on him after he left threatening voicemails on her phone, highlighted by Dukes uttering the immortal words, "You dead, dawg. I ain't even [expletive]. Your kids, too."

I love baseball.

Janice Bowden: I hear baseball players make awfully good salaries now a days.
Jake Taylor: Well it all depends on how good you are.
Janice Bowden: How good are you?
Jake Taylor: I make the league minimum.

The league minimum ($380,000) All-Star team: Cole Hamels (SP- Phillies), Tom Gorzelanny (SP- Pirates), Jared Weaver (SP- Angels), Jonathan Broxton (RP- Dodgers), Huston Street (Closer- Athletics), Russell Martin (C- Dodgers), Nick Swisher (1B- Athletics), Dustin Pedroia (2B- Red Sox), J.J. Hardy (SS- Brewers), Ryan Zimmerman (3B- Nationals), Josh Willingham (OF- Marlins), Reggie Willits (OF- Angels), Ryan Church (OF-Nationals)

Rick Vaughn: I got news for you Mr. Brown, you haven't heard the last of me. You may think I'm shit now, but someday you're gonna be sorry you cut me. I'm gonna catch on somewhere else and every time that I pitch against you I'm gonna stick it up - your fuckin' - ass! [Throws baseball against locker]

Oliver Perez started his promising career in San Diego during the 2002 season. He started fifteen games and proved to be a valuable young player, but the Padres didn't seem comfortable with that premise. They packaged him with Jason Bay and sent him off to Pittsburgh for a then-beastly Brian Giles. In retrospect, this is possibly the worst MLB trade of the past five years (or at least in the top three). Bay has become a perennial All-Star and Brian Giles has become the worst fantasy baseball player on whatever team he's on. Oliver Perez sparkled in his breakout year, his 2004 stats read like this: 196 IP, 239 K's, 81 Walks, 2.99 ERA

After officially arriving on the MLB scene, an injury and resultant mental and mechanical breakdowns caused him to completely implode. The next two years he had 5.85 and 6.63 ERA respectively and looked simply overmatched at times. The Pirates, out of yet another pennant race as the trade deadline approached last year, dealt the struggling Perez to the Mets for prospects. This year's stat line? Through 75 innings, he's got 70 K's, 26 Walks and 3.21 ERA. He hasn't pitched against Pittsburgh yet, but I wouldn't be surprised if he *ahem* sticks it up their fuckin asses. Speaking of which...

Dorn: Lou, I wanna have a word with you here.
Coach Brown: Sure.
Dorn: (whipping out his contract) Those penalty sit-ups you want me to do? I got it right here in my contract that I don't have to do any calisthenics I don't feel are necessary. What do ya think of that? [Lou looks at Dorn, pauses thoughtfully, takes the contract, drops it on the ground and urinates on it, then walks off]

Much has been made of Roger Clemens and his absolutely ridiculous contract... kindly allow me to pile on. He's making 18 million (pro-rated from 28 million) and has a "family clause" which states that he can travel back to Texas in between starts to rap with the fam. It might as well be called the "Fuck You, Pay Me" clause. George Steinbrenner, after giving the go-ahead for this appropriation of funds, has officially become "a bottom". He enjoys being entered from behind. I'm now convinced.

Let's do some math, shall we?

18 million for the remained of the season. That's 4.5 million a month. Assuming he makes five starts a month and throws 100 pitches each outing... that's... let's see... carry the one... nine thousand dollars a pitch.

Nine thousand dollars every time he takes a small sphere of cowhide wound around a core of cork and throws it 60 feet into the mitt of another gentlemen for our enjoyment. Meanwhile, there are children in Africa who don't possess the nourishment needed to power their legs. I don't say this often, but maybe the terrorists are right...

Pedro Cerrano: Bats, they are sick. I cannot hit curveball. Straightball I hit it very much. Curveball, bats are afraid. I ask Jobu to come, take fear from bats. I offer him cigar, rum. He will come.

Sammy Sosa has 218 at-bats this year. He's got 10 homeruns, 60 strikeouts, 18 walks, .248 BA and .307 OBP. Every time I see him on Sportscenter creeping closer to 600 career jacks, I secretly hope they interview him after the game in front of his locker dressed as a voodoo shaman looking at the Rangers upcoming schedule and putting hexes on opposing pitchers. It would complete me.