When I was a kid I believed nearly everything adults told me. Well, I believed almost everything they told me until I was about 10. After then, I questioned everything because that's about the time I learned about Richard Nixon. I figured if the President of the United States could be less than forthcoming, maybe other adults could, too.
That's also about the same time I learned about Santa Claus, though truth be told the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy never made any sense. That's especially the case with the Tooth Fairy because that just sounds a little too Uncle Eddie-ish to me. Really, what kind of a person or fairy wants little kids' ripped out and bloodied teeth? Do they make necklaces out of them like those sharks' tooth ones people wore in the ‘70s and stuff? Remember Turk Wendell, the Phillies' former relief pitcher? Yeah, well he had a necklace made out of elk's teeth and other wild animals he may or may not have shot. Actually, the necklace was kind of gaudy, but not in a P. Diddy kind of way.
Perhaps Turk Wendell was the tooth fairy for the Marlin Perkins set?
Anyway, the point is that I believed what adults told me, but then I stopped and then, for some reason, I believed them again. At least I believed what adult general managers of Major League Baseball teams told me. Seriously, why would they make up stuff? They weren't after my teeth (as far as I knew) and they weren't going to bring me or my family gifts every December under the cover of darkness. Better yet, I don't think there is a single baseball GM who secretly bombed Cambodia or was less than forthcoming about the break-in at the Democratic National Committee headquarters back in '72. Based on that criterion, baseball GMs are a reasonably trustworthy lot.
That doesn't mean they tell the truth all of the time. For instance, I recall a time when Ed Wade revealed that a slumping Marlon Byrd was the team's centerfielder and leadoff hitter for the foreseeable future - who would have guessed that Byrd was living in the future and was to be optioned to Triple-A after a game in which he served as the centerfielder and leadoff hitter? Hey, I'm not saying Wade didn't make the correct move, I'm just saying that if the end of the game was as far into the future as he could see, then he needs to re-do that Lasik surgery.
So what's this have to do with anything? Well, it doesn't. I just like writing about it. Plus, it's a nice little segue way into the whole Mike Lowell thing, who, as most readers of this site and other like it (could there be others like this one?) will tell you, is the newly re-signed third baseman and MVP of the World Series for the Boston Red Sox. Lowell is a pretty darned good third baseman who played for the Marlins when they won the World Series in 2003 and I remember sitting at Citizens Bank Park the time he hit three home runs in one game for the Marlins. The last of the three came off Billy Wagner and it made me laugh out loud... not one of those obnoxious laughs like DeNiro chomping on a cigar in the movie theater like in Cape Fear, which by itself is a ridiculous scene. But it was a laugh that slips out at an inappropriate time, like say the time your friend was an altar boy at mass at Sacred Heart in 1984 or something and he knocked over a candle that he had just lit. You don't want to laugh out loud, but you do for that briefest of seconds before anyone realizes that you are the one who a.) Has a bad sense of humor and b.) Can't control himself in solemn places.
Not that any of that ever happened, of course.
Anyway, Nixon bombed Cambodia, Marlon Byrd was sent to Scranton and Pat Gillick told us not to believe everything we read on ESPN.com. Which one thinks about it, is a rather ambiguous statement. Just look at it:
"Don't believe everything you read on ESPN.com."
OK. I guess that's good advice. But it's kind of like, don't dance with a circus bear wearing a Shriner's hat after it just pedaled a tricycle 50 yards. Or don't rub the belly of an alligator that was just fed ostrich burgers for a mid-afternoon snack. Does it really mean something or is it just a broad, sweeping statement that is common amongst politicians and large retailers to homogenize us?
Perhaps what Gillick meant to say was, "Don't believe everything you read on ESPN.com about badminton. But the stuff about the Phillies attempting to sign Mike Lowell to play third base for the team in 2008... yeah, well that stuff is as solid as your Uncle Tim's brass spittoon."
So how about that? Despite all the reports that indicated that the Phillies had just a limited amount of cash to spend this winter, and GM Gillick's contention that the team was focusing on acquiring pitching and that third base was not a "priority," it comes out that the Phillies are like Diamond Jim picking up the tab for everyone in the saloon. They're lighting big, fat cigars with $20 bills while trying to figure out how they can spend more money and make offers to guys like Mike Lowell.
Good for them.
But here's the question: why the subterfuge? Why all the, "Mike Lowell? Who is Mike Lowell? We wouldn't know Mike Lowell if he walked right up and spit into our mammy's hand purse..." Doing stuff like that is going to give a guy a reputation. It's going to make the honest, chaste and diligent folks in the local sporting press to believe the worst in a person. They're going to think that when Pat Gillick says, "No, no, no," he really means, "Yes, no, yes!"
I don't know much about poker or the game's colorful jargon, but I do bad bluffing when I hear it. Based on this, the Phillies should swoop in and steal away A-Rod from the Yankees at any minute.
If the Phillies can't get A-Rod (or Scott Rolen), maybe they can get Randy Wolf? The former Phillie lefty has received an offer from the team about returning for 2008. The team has made a bunch of other offers to other players, too, including right-hander Hiroki Kuroda, who has pitched for the past decade in the Japan.
Most of my friends don't follow sports too closely so they sometimes ask inane questions about how I must be a big fan of the Phillies. I don't think they get it when I tell them that, "I root for the story." You see, like the stereotypical, self-centered athlete, I just look out for myself.
Anyway, though I don't really care one way or another which team wins or loses, I do find myself rooting for the success of certain people in the game. In that regard, a hearty congratulations goes out to Jimmy Rollins for being voted the National League's MVP in 2007 by the dangerous (and fascist) secret society called the Baseball Writers Association of America. If there is one player who respects, understands and reveres the history of the game, it's Rollins and I'm certain he will represent the award and the new fame that goes with such an honor well.
Kudos to Jimmy.