"Hey, I'm sorry about Cliff. I hope you understand why I did it...anyway, does that make up for it? Are we cool?"

The Phightin’s sent away young, stud-pitcher J.A. Happ (a runner-up for Rookie of the Year last season) and two prospects to the Astros for Houston ace Roy Oswalt (and some cash to help pay for Roy’s hefty contract).  While Amaro Jr. didn’t actually say it, this move might as well have been a public apology to Phillies fan who mourned the inexplicable loss of Cliff Lee.

Now first let me say I love the move – you did good, Rub.  It brings another team’s proven ace to be the Phillies number three pitcher in the rotation for almost nothing.  Not only that, but they managed to lock him up through next season (if they should pick up Oswalt’s option).  Happ is solid, don’t get me wrong, but I’d take Oswalt over him any day of the week – and the other two guys, outfielder Anthony Gose and shortstop Jonathan Villar, I have never heard of (so they can’t be that big of a deal to the Phillies).

Apparently the Astros agree since they have already traded Gose to the Blue Jays for first baseman Brett Wallace.  I just thought it was rather amusing that Amaro Jr. would give up prospects to get Cliff Lee, and then give up even more prospects to get Roy Halladay (great move).  Then turn around and trade Lee to get back some prospects, only to trade more prospects to get Roy Oswalt.  I just think he should come right out at the press conference and say “Hey, Phillies fans, I know I made a mistake, does this make up for it?” and shake Oswalt’s hand while he hands him a uniform.

"God...I gotta get outta Houston, I can't take this anymore."

I will give him this though, the whole time he has been wheelin’-and-dealin’ players and prospects like baseball cards, he never gave up outfielder Domonic Brown – and after watching his debut the other night against the D’backs (2-3 with 2 RBI and 2 R), I can clearly see why.  Smart decision.

Now, how about we discuss some wrong decisions?  Redskin’s D-Tackle/D-End/Pudgy-Cry-Baby Albert Haynesworth finally decided it was time to come to camp and give this whole playing football thing another try.  New Redskins coach Mike Shanahan was happy to have him back, but just wanted to make sure he was prepared mentally and physically.  Haynesworth passed the mental test, agreeing to buy into the system as long as he would get a shot at playing the D-End position.  The physical test, however, well that was a different story.

The over-paid – and overweight – Haynesworth could only complete two parts of the three part fitness test (despite losing 40 lbs).  Players and coaches were treated to a display of Haynesworth’s physical prowess as he completed one of the 300-yard shuttle sprints, barely finished the second, and ended up walking the third.  Believe me, I understand how difficult that must have been – especially for a D-Lineman, but come on.  You’re a pro athlete, a pro football player; physical fitness is kind of required and should be pretty high on your “To-Do” list.

"You want to me run what!?! Nah, I can't do that right now - cut me a break, man." (AP Photo/Alex Brandon)

The big fella’ was already in Shanahan’s dog-house for pretty much calling out the team and then not showing up to any voluntary workouts.  However, Shanahan was willing to give him a shot and put him with the backups, let him learn the new system, and then work his way up – if he could simply pass a fitness test.  It was tough, but he couldn’t.  I guess that’s what a seven-year, $100 million deal will do to you.  Why workout when you can simply dominate in Madden 2011, playing as yourself, while you lie on the bed eating Funyuns and drinking birch beer in one of the 19 bedrooms you have in one of your six houses?

• For any Philly sports fanatic, growing accustomed to the usual rotation of commercials during any game is just part of our fandom. As fans, we reserve the right to scratch our heads, throw objects at our television, or fire off hilarious text messages about these promos.  Enter the Chapman trio of idiots and the inane WB Mason mock reality show commercials.
  • Chapman—Let me get this straight. I’m supposed to be enticed to buy a car from (a) the leathery faced, smoke-stained teeth, permasmile older brother (b) the clearly strung out younger brother who chose to show off his classy forearm tattoo for the shoot or (c) the ghost of their father who suggests, on a break from his 900^th cigarette of the day, that if we don’t buy Chapman, we’re paying too much for our vehicle?
    

    What our father said 25 years ago, "You boys are winners!"

  • WB—I’m not really sure at whom this campaign is aimed? I get that reality television is huge right now, but are the same people who watch Jersey Shore or The Real World in the market for office supplies? Are they hoping that a campy premise and poor acting is going to move coffee and paper clips? I’m stumped.

• As a fan of mismatched, buddy-cop films like Point Break and Tango and Cash, I can appreciate the complexity of putting two seemingly antithetical partners together in hopes that they figure each other out by figuring themselves out in time to catch the bad guy (or in Johnny Utah’s case, letting the bad guy commit karmic suicide because said bad guy isn’t going to paddle to New Zealand!). However, I simply cannot take Comcast Sportsnet’s unlikely Phils’ post-game duo of Marshall Harris and Ricky (seriously, still using the “y?”) Botallico.  During a particularly uncomfortable tete a tete last week, Botallico was bemoaning the Phils’ offensive woes, which he is paid to do, when Harris chimed in with, “says the man with two lifetime hits in the big leagues.” Now, I understand what he’s trying to do, but that’s like the manager of your junior high basketball team yelling at the starting point guard to hit the boards more effectively. I can’t stand Botallico, but he shot Harris a nasty look before retorting with, “yeah, and how many hit do you have buddy?” Harris tried to laugh it off, but the damage to Botallico’s ego had been done.

• After the passing of Yanks’ fuehrer, George Steinbrenner this week, and Bobby Cox’s preseason proclamation that this season would be his last, is there any question the baseball gods will smile upon these two organizations and send them to the Fall Classic? If you don’t believe in the baseball gods, watch the frequency with which the baseball will find the guy who was just entered as a defensive replacement.  Obviously, this unholy union would go right up the collective nose of Phillies fans if they lose a chance at redemption against the evil empire at the hands of their very boring, very vanilla division rival from Hotlanta.

• Can someone explain how unfunnyman, Louis CK, keeps getting work? I have yet to laugh at anything he or his failed projects have elicited, yet I see he was given another shot by FX. It’s like seeing a coach or manager who has never won anything (Calipari?) keep getting opportunities to continue not winning. I guess the devil you know is better than the devil you don’t, but why not give an up-and-coming comedian a shot at stardom instead of trotting out a guy whose stock has never really risen?
  

  Look, everyone! I'm pulling my shirt up and saying something funny! Yay!

• I know the Phils’ recent sweep of first place Cincinnati before the All-Star break was exciting and uplifting, but I think it might be time to accept this just isn’t their year. Injuries, the what-to-do-with-Jayson-Werth conundrum, having 2/5 of an effective starting rotation, a schizophrenic offense, and a GM with a lot of “’splainin’” to do all point toward an early off-season. Let me throw this out there too. Is Roy Halladay the Takeo Spikes of MLB? Neither has made the playoffs, both have sought teams who they thought would help get them there, and both came to Philly with that singular goal in mind. Maybe some guys are just playoff kryptonite.

**During one of my first ever Locker pieces, I talked about how, despite the enormous shoes he had to fill, Phils play-by-play announcer, Tom McCarthy, was dangerously close to being replaced by my iPod or the radio team of Scott Franzke and Larry Andersen. Now, a full year later, this completely vanilla robot has done nothing to change my mind. Now, I’ll admit to being partial to guys who actually played the game, but such logic doesn’t affect my appreciation for the other three major sports teams’ announcers—Merrill Reese (Eagles), Jim Jackson (Flyers), and Marc Zumoff (Sixers)—because they have some flair, some panache, some understanding of the tremendous job they have in bringing our city’s teams to our homes on a nightly basis.

While I watched yet another lackluster performance by the Phils during which they dropped three of four to those pesky Pirates, I couldn’t help but take mental notes of McCarthy’s performance.

"I have a microphone into which I speak about baseball!"

Exhibit A: He used the word towering four times during the telecast. Now, maybe we’re all a little spoiled by Doc Emrick’s ability to use approximately 4, 567 verbs during his call of any hockey game, but I don’t think it’s too much to ask for McCarthy to come up with just one more adjective for flyballs.

Exhibit B: I realize the phrase “Captain Obvious” gets bandied about regularly, and usually with at least mild audience chuckling, but McCarthy is doing everything he can to cement himself as the “Captain Obvious.” After the Phils coughed up a three-run lead in the bottom of the 7^th, he delivered this doozie: The complexion of this game really changed when it went from a one-run game to now a three-run deficit for the Phils. I don’t require my play-by-play guy to be a sabermetrics practitioner, but I also don’t need him to fill in elementary gaps like this one.

Exhibit C: His homerun calls absolutely stink. I’d rather pluck a drunken fraternity brother out of the stands and ask him to call, oh, let’s say, Jimmy Rollins’ walkoff last week instead of listening to McCarthy’s completely uninventive, He’s baaaaaaack, in reference to Rollins’ momentous return to the lineup.

**I had the misfortune of briefly flicking past the Competitive Eating Competition on ESPN, which got me thinking about our society. Let me get this straight—Americans can’t appreciate the FIFA World Cup, deemed a game for “foot fairies” by our most clever of wordsmiths, which has been nothing short of amazing for the better part of a month (if you missed the sick Paraguay-Spain quarterfinal because you were afraid you’d catch “footfairyitis” as a result, I’ll submit that it was the second best game of the tourney behind the US win in extra time against Algeria), but we can show up in droves to watch intestinal freaks of nature devour food quickly? And don’t think for a second that the arrival and “arrest” of former champ Kobayashi wasn’t staged for publicity.

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay better than soccer. (By Theo Zierock, AFP/Getty Images)

As a result, I will not listen to those who suggest our country isn’t getting dumber. Or dumberer.

**Wait, Mike Vick didn’t see the light behind Tony Dungy’s shadow? It turns out he really isn’t a very good dude? The Eagles made a personnel mistake? The Wildcat Formation was effective for one year, four years ago? Now I’ve heard it all.

For my first post since my daughter was born in September, I thought I’d take things slowly, rail against the current goings-on in sports and pop culture that keep me up at night, and call it a day.

**Because I am a devoted fan of college basketball but equally as dedicated to my hatred of the NBA, I’m puzzled at what happens between the time sure-fire lottery picks sleep through the first semester of class (c’mon, you think DeMarcus Cousins is taking copious notes during College Comp 101?) during their freshman year and they walk up to the podium to accept the flat-brimmed hat of their new NBA team. My allegiance lies squarely with the ‘Cuse in the NCAA, but I couldn’t tell you what Jonny Flynn did this year in the NBA, and I’m certain the same will hold true for Wes Johnson. But, hey, at least they get to toil together as Timberwolves.

Now, as I watched the epic College World Series clincher by South Carolina last night, I had to wonder why baseball doesn’t suffer the same fate as its more athletic NBA counterpart. I mean these kids are going berserk after the third out of any inning, locking arms in the dugout during big at-bats, and donning rally caps while passing around superstitious Vanilla Wafers.

Put me in coach! I'm ready to give you 30% of what I got!

The answer really wasn’t that difficult—coaching. Without a self-aggrandizing John Calipari or Rick Pitino on the sidelines, these kids play for their coaches in college, so doing the same thing for the MLB managers isn’t a stretch. There is a respect for the game and for its elder statesmen in baseball that is conspicuously absent in the NBA. Again, does anyone think any of the players who just left Kentucky is going to miss Calipari or is amped for an opportunity to play for Stan Van Gundy? Doubt it.**

**When is Doc Halladay going to walk into the clubhouse after another start that only asked for three or four runs of support, which then resulted in a loss, and start cracking skulls? This guy does his job every fifth day and is rewarded with two runs, six hits, and twelve LOB. Blech.**

**Let me tell you what I think about this LBJ, Wade, Bosh “summit” in Miami last weekend—nothing. In fact, this bullet point is as much thought as I’ve devoted to anything NBA related in nine years. Go ahead, play together. Win together. Ride around on boats together. The NBA already has watered down 94% of itself (that’s right, I did the math), so creating a triumvirate of power in Miami means the other 5% can join in the irrelevant par-tay. Have at it, boys.**

**As a follow up to my months-old contribution to the Almost Punchable Celebrity

With a face like this...

column, I was just treated with a radio spot for 7UP voiced by none other than that lovable baritone, Brad Garrett. The commercial played on the dichotomy between Garrett’s surly exterior and his hidden love for the soft drink, so he’d grunt in his trademark voice and then take it up an octave to express his pleasure. If you’re bored by this bullet, you can join the six Garrett fans who feel the same way about his work.**

Oh no, Sosa found a way to even top cheating in the sport he played.  He bleached himself.  Sosa claimed his skin was feeling old and needed some “rejuvenation,” so he started bleaching his skin? To quote this Michael Jackson wannabe, “It’s a bleaching cream that I apply before going to bed…I use it to soften my skin, but has bleached me some,” he admitted.  Some!?! He resembles a Dominican-version of the kid who starred in Powder.

This doesn't even look like the same person. I guess "bleached me some" and "completely different" mean the same thing to Sammy.

What about taking vitamin D? Or rubbing some lotion on your skin? Then, Sosa managed to top that by adding green eyes to his new faded white skin.  What are you doing, Sosa? You went from being a super-slugger to a reject in the cast of Twilight.  He is now a faded has-been – literally – who just realized that he could buy contacts that change the color of his eye.  When I saw this, I was legitimately scared.  I am surprised there weren’t any stories about someone at the Latin Grammys just dropping their jaw, screaming, and running out because Sosa smiled at them.

Switching gears from complete stupidity to utter stupidity, we move to the Tennessee Volunteers.  Three of first-year head coach Lane Kiffin’s highly touted recruits were charged with attempted armed robbery.

Apparently, Janzen Jackson, a starting safety, and Nu’Keese Richardson, a starting wide-receiver, were among four people who decided a great Wednesday evening activity would be robbing a convenience store.  Defensive back Mike Edwards, and their “Wheel-man” Marie Montmarquet – a 22-year-old female – were charged with three counts of armed robbery at a gas station.

They held up three people in a parked car at gun-point while wearing masks.  The victims got the make and model of the car, a Toyota Prius, and get this – one of them was wearing Tennessee football gear and a victim caught a glimpse of it (apparently they had on either shorts or a t-shirt with the Tennessee football logo on it), the police haven’t said what it was yet).  When the police finally caught the suspects, they located the hoodies and masks, and an air-powered pellet gun (nice touch gentlemen).

"It was exciting holding those men at gun-point, I think next time though, we shouldn't wear our jerseys out to rob people." (AP Photo/Wade Payne)

So let me get this straight.  You get a full-scholarship to play football at the University of Tennessee – a program that is on the up-and-up right now – and you have a shot to play pro-football if you make the best of your time at this university (which is all free by the way), and you decide that’s not enough?  No, no, no, a better path is driving around in your “girlfriend’s” Prius and robbing people at gun point for what? $75-$100 at best?

Yeah, you won’t ever make that much in the NFL, or receive that as an allowance thanks to your free ride at Tennessee.  Even better, do all this while you’re wearing Tennessee football gear, great plan.  I read this and just thought to myself, “How dumb can you be?” I don’t by any means condone this plan, but if you are going to go through with this poorly thought-out scheme, and you have the ski mask on as well, wouldn’t taking off your Volunteers football gear be the next step?  I could only imagine the two of them wearing their jerseys and ski masks thinking “Let’s rob these people, they will never know who it is.”

"Here's to me doing nothing in the postseason!"

Here’s the thing: first, it’s not that big a deal.  Pitchers do it all the time when they are relieved and no one can be sure that, if the game had not ended, Manny would NOT have come back out.  Fortunately for this Phillies fan…we will never know.

The second thing is that Manny has done something much worse that no one seems to have noticed: He hasn’t been the same since being on his 50-day “vacation” for violating the MLB’s substance abuse policy.  After Manny got busted for steroids (or women’s fertility drugs) he simply hasn’t been the same.  I know there are some people who will argue that he is getting old, or that missing those 50 games hurt him as far as getting into the swing of things – but the numbers do not lie.

This year Manny finished with a .290 batting average, 63 RBI and just 19 home runs.   That’s the worst Manny has done since his second year in the majors at Cleveland (when he ended with an average of .269 and 17 homers).  So maybe he had an off year, but the whole point of having Manny is his power and run-production, especially in the postseason.

So in this year’s NLDS and NLCS, Manny should have been a big factor for the Dodgers, right? In eight games Manny posted the following: a .281 average, four RBI, and one HR.  Narrow that down even further to just the NLCS against the Phillies, and he went .263 with only two RBI in 19 at-bats.

So who cares if Manny is leaving a game early to shower? Dodgers fans should be concerned about what Manny is doing before that shower…not hitting or driving in runs.  The “slugger” is supposed to be worth all the headaches and distractions off the field because of his performance on the field.  That hasn’t been the case ever since Manny had to get off the juice.  Even if the thirty-seven-year-old’s age is a factor, it is a little ironic that his career suddenly starts to fade out right after he gets caught using illegal substances.

"Nice job Manny...way to fail when we needed you most."

Even if Manny comes back and has a huge year for the Dodgers – the team that is suddenly regretting signing him to that long and expensive a contract – critics still was raise the question, “is he on the juice again?” Too big a coincidence on too big a stage for it to be ignored because everyone wants to focus on Manny showering – after he had been yanked – before a game is over.

            With some playoff history in their very recent rear view mirror, these two teams will try to summon the ghosts of playoffs past.  For the Rox, their ascension to post season relevance is nearly as remarkable as their historic September of 2007 when they went berserk and stormed into the playoffs on the way to a first round sweep of the Phils.  The defending world f@*king champs, who admittedly lost some of their swagger in the final week of the season, aren’t looking as far back as Colorado, instead focusing on last year’s relatively easy run to the crown.

Without last year's swagger, this scene may not be 'repeated.'

            So, who do we like?

            Why the Phils will win

            It’s hard to overlook what this team did last year, going undefeated at home and losing only three games in the postseason.  Such experience can’t be overvalued, and though the team has some noticeably different parts (Cliff Lee, Raul Ibanez, J Happ), few teams get to boast the bling they earned in baseball’s second season. 

            With a lineup that’s almost video game good on most days, the Phightins’ can pound pitchers from both sides of the plate with a flurry of doubles and dongs.  Couple that with one of the league’s premier defenses, particularly up the middle, and the championship recipe isn’t all that much different than last year’s blend.

            For the Rockies, a young pitching staff that is a bit banged up could cause itself problems, and while the lineup does feature a first ballot Hall of Famer in 1B Todd Helton and a young stud SS in Troy Tulowitzki, the Phils’ is simply better 1-8.

'Tulo' could have a major say in the NLDS outcome.

            Lastly, despite what critics say about Phils’ skipper Charlie Manuel’s southern drawl and limited vocabulary, he has a knack for getting his guys to play.  While Rox manager Jim Tracy is a lock for NL Manager of the Year for his team’s unprecedented success after his hiring, he lacks what Manuel has.  A ring.

            Why the Rockies will win

            I have to admit that I’m terrified of this series.  The Phils’ 2008 championship was marked by a gutty, gritty approach to a September comeback that seems all too familiar to Mets fans.  They had to play their way in.  They had to get hot at the right time. Their pitching staff, from top to bottom, gelled at the most opportune time.  They had a certain quality I think this year’s version lacks. 

            Perhaps it was leading the division for so long.

            Perhaps it’s the World Series hangover.

            Perhaps it’s complacency.

            Whatever it is, I just don’t like them in this year’s NLDS like I did in last year’s.

            The pitching staff is just beleaguered by injuries and inconsistency right now, and I’ll spare myself a diatribe on the bullpen.  Moreover, when the game one starter isn’t clear cut two days before game one, that’s a problem.

The ghost of playoffs past could haunt Lidge and the Phils.

            The lineup, as I mentioned, is very good, but it also relies far too heavily on the long ball.  Last year’s championship was marked by a lack of production with RISP, a trend that certainly cannot be repeated.  Last year’s bench was much more formidable and could give opposing manager’s pause.  I’m not sure Tracy will be concerned about Eric Bruntlett, Miguel Cairo or Paul Bako in this NLDS.

            Rockies’ closer Huston Street has undergone his own Renaissance since his trade from Oakland in the Matt Holliday deal.  Though he is oft injured, Street’s 35 saves against 2 blown saves makes the Phils’ back end look even worse by comparison.

            If the Rockies can get early leads in games 1 and 2, like many teams have done against the Phils down the stretch, they could make this a very short series for the defending champs.

            Almost Prediction

            For some reason, I just don’t like this matchup for the Phils.  Phans of the champs would have much rather faced a Dodger team whose number the Phils have and who have played equally as poorly down the stretch.  Let’s face it; no NL team has repeated as champs since the 1975-76 Reds, so history is not on our side.

            Rockies take the series in four.

by Sieck and Brian

Ah, fantasy football. There’s perhaps no other pastime during which a group of grown men can get together in a room to play a silly game and act like bigger buffoons. Well, at least such was the case this past Sunday when my esteemed colleague Brian and I got together with our friends for our annual fantasy league draft.

This year our league was righteously and poetically dubbed “The Eric Bruntlett Memorial Fantasy Football League,” so eloquently labeled by our commissioner (and my cousin) Lew (who will probably wind up being the focus of this article, but we’ll see). Yes, we know, Eric Bruntlett isn’t a football player, therefore:

Triple play or not, that is one outstanding beard.

A little background on the Eric Bruntlett League: OK, I’ll try to make this brief. Last year, during the World Series, our dear friend Kevin claimed that Phillies utility player Bruntlett was a better player than starting left-fielder Pat Burrell. Now, most of us WERE NOT huge fans of Pat “The Bat” even though he was an integral part of the team. However, we all pleaded with Kevin to wake up and smell the facial hair, as that is the only real good thing about Bruntlett. Of course, fast forward to this year where Kevin’s beloved Bruntlett has only played sparingly and carried a .129 batting average into Sunday, August 23. So, Lew in all his wisdom came up with this name for our fantasy football league to simply give Kevin a little playful ribbing…

HOWEVER, is it a coincidence that on the day of our draft, Bruntlett got a start at second base (giving all-star Chase Utley a day off), went an astonishing 3-4, and ended the game with an UNASSISTED TRIPLE PLAY that hasn’t happened since 1927? I think not, therefore maybe Kevin has gotten the last laugh. Incidentally, Kevin also got the first pick in our draft and correctly (in my humble opinion) selected Adrian Peterson. Oh, and btw, Eric Bruntlett’s middle name?… Yep, “Kevin.”

Now, let’s get on to other matters. Any time a group of friends gets together and combines football talk with alcohol, some truly interesting things are going to be said, and by interesting I mean completely disgusting, awful and offensive. But hey, that’s what friends are all about, right? Now, this is a “professional” site so I’ll spare all of the gurus out there some of the gorier details, but a fine example would be a few choice things said about a former girlfriend of a certain running back from New Orleans. (OK, I’ll admit it, that one was me, but I wasn’t alone in the sentiment). Furthermore, a heated argument broke out concerning the choice to draft a defense in the 10^th round. Now, in the grand scheme of life, I really don’t think this is a big deal, and if there’s any kind of supreme being, no matter who or what anyone believes in, if that being was looking down on this particular conversation, said being would simply be shaking its head. For the record (to give everyone an idea of what Brian and I were dealing with), I tried not to get involved in the argument, waited until the 12^th round (out of 14) to select a D, and still ended up with the New York Giants…      

A few more quick observations: Amongst our crew, there’s a lot of pot calling the kettle black that goes on. Sure, some folks may not have come to the draft physically prepared (lists, etc)—remember “TG,” next year print out lists by position—I would argue that others weren’t mentally prepared, but they’ll remain nameless… for now. Also, to our good friend Mike: I know you like to drink scotch, but if you’re going to curse out gentlemen who take a long time to make their picks, you may not want to take a half-hour yourself… I, for one however, am glad that he did.

Finally, we must touch on our sweet commish, Lew. I’m quite proud to share blood with this man. Could it be because he pawns off half of his responsibilities to others? (He actually paid very little attention to everyone else’s picks after round 11). Well, that’s part of it, but the reason I’m most elated is because he easily had the best lines of the day.  A few of the cleaner examples:

• After I selected Pierre Thomas, he exclaimed, “You should only be named Pierre if you are French and make pastries.”
  

  Funny, this guy doesn't look French.

• Upon seeing the team his brother picked for one of our friends who couldn’t make the draft, “Ryan, why don’t you take this team, and give him yours?”… Priceless.
• On his observations of the chatter in the room: “The next person to say ‘good pick’ is banned.”
• Upon hearing the plight of a certain unfortunate individual: “Would it have been so bad if this person had killed himself?” (Paraphrased).

Lew, we salute you, oh fantasy gridiron king of the one-liners, and long live our league, Eric Bruntlett, and his fabulous beard!  

*************************************************************************************

Though only five years into our 10-team A-Town fantasy football careers, our league has seen little change.  The same three or four teams are drafted horrendously and do not make the playoffs, the same three guys have won all four championships, including two out of three for Brian, and the same drafting schemes have been employed. 

Fantasy pundits will preach drafting a RB in the first two rounds to ensure you don’t get stuck with a backup or stiff and to, in theory, garner the most points because of the frequency of RB touches and TDs.  However, this year our league featured a departure from that model (3 of the top 10 were non-RBs) and an overwhelming desire to draft in the middle slots instead of the top three.

Without analyzing every move of the draft, suffice it to say that WRs were a much more posh early pick than were RBs.  Larry Fitzgerald went #8 overall (Sieck) and Calvin Johnson and Randy Moss were the two top picks in round two.  Andre Johnson and Reggie Wayne soon followed in round two while Steve Smith (the good one) and Roddy White were taken #1 and #2 in round three.  Clearly, drafters in our league, and presumably nationwide, are seeing  a seismic shift in point accumulation led by those talented wide outs.

The return of Tom Brady did not last long in our draft, going 9th overall but after Drew Brees was selected 6th overall.  Peyton Manning, Philip Rivers and Kurt Warner followed shortly thereafter as GMs have finally accepted the fact that RBs by committee are here to stay, so grabbing a top flight QB early is a necessity.

Hi, I'm Drew, and I love to throw the football. Pick me!

Again not surprisingly Tony Gonzalez was the first TE taken (round 5) though many draft boards had him as low as 4th on the TE list.  A proven point producer, Gonzalez owners should be salivating at how wide open the middle of the field is going to be for Matt Ryan darts to the first ballot Hall of Famer.  Personally, I don’t value the TE nearly as much as most GMs, having never drafted one earlier than the 11th round (which is where I got Vishante Shiancoe this year), but I understand that many GMs treat their TE pick in the same way they treat their WR pick.

Sieck referenced the Pittsburgh Defense going far too early (round 10), which sparked a lively exchange between that GM and me, but, again, I never choose a D until one of the final two rounds (where all K should be selected as well) and I have two “rings” to show for such patience.

I’ll spare the reiteration of the worst picks in the draft because Sieck took care of that, but I will add that Saints K Garrett Hartley, he of the four game early season suspension, was chosen in the last round, which is on par in terms of oddity with 49ers WR Josh Morgan being taken in the 8th round. Ironically, the same GM gobbled up both players.

So good luck fantasy gurus.  

Except for the other nine hammers I have to deal with in my league.

As the Roy Halladay sweepstakes dragged on through the dog days of July, I wrote (July 21) about how the Phils should give up whatever Blue Jays GM JP Ricciardi was asking for and call it a World Series.  Little did the sports world know that Ricciardi was actually working on a swan song of colossal, career-ending proportions while the neophyte Phils’ GM, Ruben Amaro, was working on the greatest coup in baseball in the last fifty years.  In short, thanks a bunch JP, ya’hoser.

"Yeah, so, my bad. Anyone have any Moosehead?"

When news broke that the Phils were turning their attention to the Tribe’s Cliff Lee, I was giddy. Unlike so many jaded (doesn’t a championship quell that for at least a year?) fans who were convinced this was simply a knee-jerk move based on saving money rather than on winning, I simply started my own mantra while I waited.

The guy was 22-3 and won the Cy Young last year. The guy was 22-3 and won the Cy Young last year. The guy was 22-3 and won the Cy Young last year.

 On one hand, I totally understand where the old guard of Phils’ faithful was coming from.  They had suffered through Lance Parrishes and Craig Jeffereieses for so long that anything besides the prohibitive best (Doc Halladay) would seem like a classic lay up with the 5 iron. Thankfully, my friends, this isn’t our fathers’ Phils, so what it took Tin Cup Roy McAvoy to do in twelve strokes, Ruben Amaro did in two.

He knocked it on.

Amaro tutored under a proven winner in Pat Gillick, a man who said he came here to win a championship and then, well, did it.

"So this is what it's like to be in the middle of things. I think I'll stick around. Someone call Shapiro, stat!"

Let’s not forget that it’s not like Gillick packed up his Hawaiian shirts and rode off into the sunset.  He’s still very much involved in the proceedings, but his capacity comes with more of a whisper than a roar.  When it became clear that the Jays were willing to sit tight with Halladay unless they got every possible high end prospect in the Phils’ system, Gillick and Amaro parted ways with the hottie with no personality and focused on her younger, plainer, cooler sister.

Die hard fans don’t need the stats to back up what they already know—Lee is a stud—but just for the fun of it:

4-0/ 37 IP/ 18H/ 6BB/ 34K/ 3ER/ 0.82 ERA/ 2CGs

The guy’s even hitting .385 since coming over for Pete’s sake. You paying attention, Eric Bruntlett?

What sets Lee apart from so many chest-thumping, shark-tooth necklace wearing egomaniacs is his workmanlike humility.  Much like Chase Utley, the guy is not even his own biggest fan and cringes at talking about his dominance.  Fans who haven’t seen him pitch will be surprised to know that he basically sprints off the mound after every third out.  Now, Phils’ fans haven’t seen him get touched up yet, in any inning, so we don’t know what will happen at the end of a laborious inning, but I’m willing to bet that he still beats the catcher to the dugout.

"I'll tell ya' what...I'll tell you guys what pitch I'm throwing first just to be fair. Here comes the change!"

During his countless interviews when he first arrived, Lee consistently reiterated that is was his job to “put up zeroes” and “give the team a chance to win.” Clearly, he couldn’t have been more prophetic in his assessment.

Finally, I would be remiss to not thank the brilliant Cleveland Indians GM, Rachel Phelps Mark Shapiro for including the Phils on his fire sale. After dumping CC Sabathia last year and Cliff Lee and Victor Martinez this year, you have to wonder if Travis Hafner and Grady Sizemore are going to invoke their inner Jake Taylor, get one of those peel-away cardboard cutouts of Shapiro and vow to “win the whole…thing.”

Good luck with all that, Tribe.

And thank the good Lord for Cliff Lee.