"Kids, you tried your best and you failed miserably. The lesson is, never try." Homer Simpson

Well, let's see...if the Yankees swept three straight from the Red Sox and the Mets swept three straight from the Yankees...this must mean either:

A.) The Red Sox really suck, alot more than even the Whinge Nation have allowed themselves to believe despite the vitriolic rants and threats of suicide.

B.) That the Mets are the greatest team on earth!

C.) The Yankees are so bored with the idea of no real competition ahead of them in the AL East other than oh, let's say the Tampa Bay Devil Rays, that they just don't care anymore.

D.) So overconfident from the fact that Art Howe was saving Matt Ginter and Jae Seo just for the Yankees in lieu of Glavine and Leiter, the Yankees fielded their hologram team instead of the actual one.

Oh, what to make of this quixotic sweep of the Mighty Yankees? Is this one of those moments where fate has lifted her skirt hem in a moment of playful flirtation, or just another slap in the face to Red Sox fans?

What to make of Ty Wigginton, nearly entirely submerged in trade rumour and innuendo for the last several weeks, sparking to life with two homers in one afternoon, three in two days even, six for twelve against the Yankees, hitting .391 with 4 homers in the last seven games? Is this man to be mere trade bait?

Granted, with sixteen errors already, Wigginton won't be confused with Brooks Robinson at the hot corner and his range sucks and yes, for the trillionth time we've heard: psst, the third baseman phenom of the future, David Wright is on the way but there must be something better to do with him than trade him away for the likes of some Mets retread like Paul Wilson or a humpty dumpty head case like Kris Benson. His trade value probably won't be higher than it is right but to dump him just when he's getting warmed up and comfortable would be a mistake. After all, with the Kaz Man fielding at shortstop like he's chasing hotdog wrappers on a windy day and the Human Hammy and his infinitely potential injured yet again (well it isn't officially "injured" he just "felt a twinge" in his right hamstring Saturday afternoon while running out a grounder, but what the hell, Reyes feeling a twinge is like animals starting to act weird before an earthquake - you're not sure what it means but it can't be good), there's no telling where a solid hitting infielder like Wigginton might fit in the Mets' future. So let's not jump the gun.

By the way, if I hear one more breathless reference by one of these infatuated somnabulists to Jose Reyes' infectious smile as though he runs with his teeth instead of his perpetually twitchy hammy, I'll perform my own frontal labotomy with a corkscrew just to get rid of the memories. I don't care if his teeth are made of gold and his lips are bleed magical peyote, this kid is an injury machine, a human disappointment waiting to happen and the best thing the Mets could possibly do would be to trade him now, as they probably should have this Spring, in a package deal for say Alfonso Soriano, before the rest of the league finally wises up as to what a hopeless future he really has.

And if the Mets really could get someone like Benson for Wigginton, what are they really getting anyway? As though he can smell, with his twitching whiskers, an escape from Pittsburgh in the air, Benson has a 3.19 ERA in his last six starts with 12 walks and 26 strikeouts over 42 1/3 innings. Perhaps worth a Wigginton. Especially when you consider all the fireworks he'd be bringing with him. Like his wife, Anna Benson. It appears he and his wife have been pretty explicit and candid in the past about their sex life. I reckon it wouldn't be unfathonable to see a few saucy pictures of this Anna Benson splayed across the Daily News or the NY Post sometime soon.

*****

I happened to read this mention of the similarities between this season's Tigers and last season's Marlins:

The 2003 World Series champion Marlins were a lot like this year's
Tigers. After 75 games ...

2004 Tigers: 36-39, fourth place in the AL Central.

2003 Marlins: 36-39, fourth place in the NL East.

2004 Tigers: Won their 75th game in the 11th inning on a home run.

2003 Marlins: Won their 75th game in the 11th inning on a home run.

2004 Tigers: Had Rodriguez catching and Ugueth Urbina closing.

2003 Marlins: Had Rodriguez catching. Urbina came 11 days later in a
trade from Texas.

Spooky. Now all the Tigers have to do is fire Alan Trammel and hire Red Schoendienst to bring his own peculiar brand of senior discipline to the clubhouse...

*****

Here's one that gives me great pleasure: Roberto Alomar, whingeing malcontent extraordinaire, says he's willing to be a utility infielder for a contender. Oh how the weasels have wobbled! Is this magnamimous of him or what? There must be a team in a pennant race somewhere out there looking for a quitter to play a half-hearted second base, isn't there? After all, who wouldn't want to add a 36 year old has-been switch hitting second baseman who can only hit left handed? It's not that I'm bitter about the effort he gave for the Mets, I just didn't see him in action all that much. This, I believe, was the most active I ever saw him in a Mets uniform, unless you count whining and sulking as official activities. I look forward to the day when Alomar is whittling away the remnants of his career for the Santurce Crabbers somewhere in auld San Juan.

****

A sad story, this break-up of Florida Marlins pitcher Carl Pavano and Alyssa Milano. As to the cause of their demise, Pavano grandly hinted, "I don't think this is the most stable environment to have a relationship. Guys that do it, great -- but I haven't really mastered that part of it." What part of Eva Savealot couldn't he master?

Look, maybe he just got a glimpse of this photo in the mud bikini.

Dying Embers of the Euro 2004

By the time the Greeks had managed to fashion their historic upset, winning a championship they were 80-1 odds against winning, the tournament had become for most of us outside of Portugal and Greece, somewhat anticlimatic. Well, for those of you in America, it was probably little more than a blip on the collective subconscience but over here, when your country is involved, the country comes to a standstill.

There's something about international competition that encompasses so much more than even something as heated as a Yankee-Red Sox rivalry or Dallas-Washington matchup. You might find it's closest relative at the collegiate football level, the pageantry, the songs sung, the music, the flags waved, the chants of tens of thousands of voices in unison sounding like the low growl of tribal man returning to battle. But these competitions have even more than a colourful rivalry such as Michigan-Ohio State because they bring much more culture with them and with that sharing of culture, a vague and transitory acceptance of the differences among us. Especially the differences in the women. Whew! Let's not forget the Russian wives and girlfriends who sent their lads off to battle with inspirational photos of themselves in the nude. Let's not forget the women of all 16 nations, the candidates for Miss Euro 2004!

And most of all, let's not forget the most famous woman of them all, David Beckham, who in between painting nail varnish on his fingernails, wearing a sarong, posing seductively for the covers of women's magazines and acting more like a sexually twisted nancy boy than the captain of the English football team, single-handedly choked not once, but twice, on simple penalty kicks and in the end, ultimately cost England a chance at real redemption in this tournament.