The Future

So for thirty-eight days I worried. I nervously thought of the wasted picks the Sonics made the past few years capped off by the genius selection of Mohammed Sene at #10 last year. I had more confidence in Lenny Wilkins if he was drunk, blind, tied up, and decapitated than I could have in Rick Sund, but still I felt nervous.

Then the Supes hired Sam Presti from the Spurs. He changed everything. Both in my mind and in reality after today.

I wanted Sam Presti, but I also wanted Marc Iavaroni. Once Iavaroni went to the Grizzlies, I knew the run and gun Phoenix Suns style would be out the window. I should have known that the minute they hired Presti. He grew up in the San Antonio Spurs system. Presti started as an intern and grew into an assistant GM. He wouldn't stand for horrible defense anymore.

Yesterday Presti basically said no one was untouchable except the number two pick. And today he proved it by trading Ray Allen, the face of the franchise, to Boston for the number five overall pick, Delonte West, and Wally Szczerbiak. When this trade was announced to the crowd at the Sonics draft party, the nearly 2,000 people booed. They are idiots.

Allen did a lot of great offensive things for the Sonics. He shot the basketball better than nearly anyone in the league over the past four and a half years. And he definitely proved to be the go to guy when they needed a basket, usually with a pull up jumper off the dribble or coming off a double screen for a three. Points were not a problem, as they weren't really in general for the Sonics. But Ray Allen is a horrible defender, one of the worst in the league. He rebounds okay and can pass pretty well. And the Sonics went 31-51 with him and Rashard Lewis.

Presti decided to change the whole thing. Kevin Durant becomes the face of the franchise. In fact, only 12 minutes after they drafted him, a commercial aired with Durant dunking on people and the Sonics welcoming him to Seattle while posting the number for season tickets. I nearly called.

Kevin Durant will end up being better than Ray Allen. I think most people would agree with this. But could they have played together? Yes and no. They could have and along with Luke Ridnour and maybe Lewis given up 120 points per game. Now they add West who adds to the backcourt depth while Jeff Green comes in as the number two option to Durant.

They get younger and probably not great next season. But really will they be worse than 31-51? Maybe not.

The Sonics are not expected to re-sign Lewis now, so hopefully a sign and trade becomes possible. And Presti is not done. Rumors still fly about Ridnour (as he is also awful defensively) and Nick Collison. I think this team will look completely different next season and we will see if they are better.

All I know is this, I am trying to buy some season tickets right now. I wouldn't be if Allen and Lewis were here instead of Durant and Green.

We're Back!

Signs of the apocalypse or the most unlikely event to occur in the history of the world.

1. Jeff Weaver throwing a complete game, four hit shutout.
2. Me beating Matt Airy two out of three in P-I-G.

Both happening in the same night? That's quacktastic.

Yes, the Indy Wahoos pulled a Peaches and Herb and reunited for the summer session of men's rec league action. I know you were clamoring for a recap from last week, but it's summer time baby. Things change.

We finished last session 6-2 with an easy thirty point win featuring some hot passes from Harry Tang and myself in the session finale.

With Tim, Matt Butler, Airy, Harry, and myself back in the fold, we were ready to take on all comers in the summer session with an opening double header at Bellevue Community College. Unfortunately our 6-2 record placed us against tougher competition. This became clear to me on the first two possessions. Oh snap, rebound put back. My bad guys. Oh snap, this guy just went by me for a lay in. I mutter, "I can't guard him". Apparently everyone agrees as I am switched off the baller from Bothell.

Oh and we have new teammates. Nelson, a friend of Tim, is better than me and a nice guy. That is fine. Terry is a Jason Terry type player who is also better than me. Except he treats me like I smell of cat feces. So I am luke warm on him thus far. Ah, but Jeremy. Oh Jeremy. He sucks.

Jeremy looks like the womanly guy from "Clerks". And he chucks shots like Kobe, except for he plays like, well....the guy from "Clerks". He quickly became the player we all hope quits the team.

Early on, I get picked near half court, but the defender falls. I dive over him and grab the loose ball. Now sitting on my rear, I look for an open player. It is at this point that my self-esteem plummets. Matt Airy just stands there looking at me like I am an idiot. Terry slowly comes near to get the ball. While a few weeks back I get applause for my hustle, this time I get stares and glares. I now hate my team.

The pace is furious and I am struggling. I box out, I grab a board or two, defend a little, and pass with precision, but it isn't the same. I am no longer the point guard. I am essentially Marty Conlon. Go blend Marty. That is my job. Cut. Pass. Rebound when not dominated by bigger guys. I sub out and feel deflated.

Oh did I mention we are down 27-9?

The game continues even with me on the bench (I know, weird) and I stew like Scottie Pippen when Toni Kukoc gets the game winner called for him.

I get back in and we go on a little run. Tim goes to work inside. I hit a deep jumper for two. Time to get busy.

Then I get subbed again. What is going on? Are we watching the same game?

(We actually are as I am exhausted and barely making it up the court. This other team is phenomenal).

Halftime comes and everyone has a solution. Terry suggests a 1-2-2 zone with him running around like a chicken with his head cut off. He also asks what we want to get done on offense. I want to say, "Hey Terry, it doesn't involve standing in one spot and telling me where the hell to go". Clerks dude wants more shots. We are a mess.

The game continues and we go to the rack hard, but don't get calls as we have a repeat ref who might be retarded. I don't use that word lightly, so you know that I am serious. If you remember from a previous blog, he is the fat white guy from a CBS show. Nobody knows his name just like this ref.

As we creep back within nine as I am on the court, it is clear my value is going up. In fact, I think my plus/minus ratio is off the charts. I cut continually on offense, but get no looks. I can't get any love. Still 1-1 from the field.

After getting subbed out, understandably we start to suffer. Jeremy takes his 20th shot of the game and it hits nothing. We almost stone him to death. If only we had some stones.

Down by thirteen or so late in the second half, Airy calls for a foul. No call. Oh wait, yes there is a call. Technical on Airy. Terry asks for an explanation from the bench. Technical. Terry, you aren't a coach. Stop talking. I want to shoot everyone. Then Mount Airy explodes. He kicks himself out of the game while taking a swipe at the ball, telling CBS ref that we pay for him with our fees. This game is out of hand.

Of course I am on the bench. Clearly I am the glue. Just call me Elmer. Although I assume Butler just didn't want me getting hurt late when it didn't matter as he subbed in for me with four minutes left.

We lose, I am dejected and it is clear we aren't having as much fun. People say we need time to gel. Others say that was a good team. I am less optomistic. I don't see fun entering the equation for a long time.

Then Harry Tang saves the night.

With our second opponent a no-show, we all sit around talking. I ask Harry what he does for a living. He responds.

"I'm a buyer for Paper Zone".

Of course you are. Well, how do you like it Harry?

"It's ok."

Ok. Riveting.

Then...

"There are a ton of hot chicks that work there."

Yes. Harry Tang.

"I interviewed and didn't think anything and then I show up the first day and I am like 'holy s&^*, where the f*&# did all these hot chicks come from?'"

I am soaking it in like sunshine and butter mixed together with a touch of honey.

"I always tell my friends to meet me for lunch so that I can introduce them to all the hot chicks. It is pretty good because the guy who runs the branch just hires hot girls. There is only like two other guys and one of them is gay, so he doesn't count".

I love you Harry Tang.

The night feels complete. I feel so good that I take Matt Airy on in some P-I-G. With Clerks Dude still lurking, he wants in. Won't this guy just die or something? He should just go play 21 with the Bruce Lee twins at the other end. And no that isn't racist. These two Asian guys look just like Bruce Lee and they are wearing matching outfits including shoes, pants and wife beaters. They snuck in the back door and just started playing one-on-one and at one point argued at each other in Chinese. Fists of Fury in the house!

We start out with some simple three pointers. Airy and I hit our first three shots. Clerks misses them. See ya sucker. Don't forget to turn the coffee off before you leave the store.

As we progress, I somehow beat Matt (a far superior shooter). He is phased by the double T's, the missed swipe at the ball, the poor shooting, women, school, and me being better looking. After losing the second game, it comes down to an one letter showdown. The bank three feels good. I hit it. He misses. He asks me to prove it. And it goes down. Champion.

P-I-G and Harry Tang. Can't get better than that.

Who's Watching?

Is anyone actually watching the NBA finals?

I am a basketball coach, fan of the NBA, and a labeled "sports computer" by my girlfriend and I simply do not want to watch.

I tried a little bit last night, but the score was 51-50 with one minute left in the third quarter. Wow.

Apparently I am not alone. Game 1 drew 8.18 million viewers. In comparison, "Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader?" drew 9.14 million viewers and "So You Think You Can Dance?" drew 10.86 million.

Game 2 did even worse, drawing only 7.69 million viewers. Most were likely watching "The Sopranos" like I did. (Fade to black followed by yelling and throwing things). "60 Minutes" dominated the Finals as did last year's match up between Dallas and Miami (12.41 million viewers).

Game 3 which bored everyone, even when it was close at the end, drew 8.00 million viewers only to be beat by "Law and Order: SVU" repeat at 8.82 million. Of course, everyone watched "America's Got Talent".

So why would you watch?

LeBron.

Not enough for me. I think he could score 187 points in Game 4 and I still wouldn't watch.

And it continues...

Just as I thought I had jinxed it all, they did it again.

The 2007 Seattle Mariners have done something many of us thought they couldn't accomplish. And by many of us, I mostly mean Ravi.

Ravi continually states that I will be done with the Mariners and onto the Seahawks every time I send him a complaining email about the M's. Except for now it is June 13th and at 35-26 and only three games out of first place the Seahawks couldn't seem more irrelevant. Just for fun:

June 13, 2006 - 31-35 (3.5 games out of first) - huh?

June 13, 2005 - 26-35 (10 games out of first) - yes

June 13, 2004 - 25-36 (12 games out of first) - awesome

June 13, 2003 - 44-21 (first place) - dear lord

Four years ago, life was awesome. And now it is awesome again.

And yesterday was insane.

I was out to dinner with Dana and her sister's family so the first eight innings almost didnt' exist in my mind. I saw the Cubs jump out to a 2-0 lead and then noticed a 2-2 score before getting in the car just in time to hear Michael Barrett tie the score at 3-3 in the eighth inning. Of course this was followed by a long double and with no outs, I couldn't take it. The radio turned off.

Moments later I turned it back on to hear Brandon Morrow walking Cliff Floyd intentionally. As I got out of the car and ran into the apartment, apparently Morrow got a guy out. Now with one out and still the bases loaded, it became George Sherrill time.

Strikeout of Felix Pie.

By the way, Pie sucks. Any ball that is near the inside corner he jumps out of the way. He is the kid in Little League who is afraid of being hit so he cowers in fear. Oh that kid was me just so you know.

Strikeout of some dude name Fontenot or something. Obviously that guy sucks also.

Somehow then I got to watch another five innings of baseball as both teams escaped mini jams and relied on pitchers who shouldn't be getting outs. This brought us to the magical 13th inning.

Jose Vidro, who replaced injured Adrian Beltre and played in the field for the first time all season, absolutely mashed a ball to left field. But because he is Jose Vidro it bounced off the ivy for a double. I actually felt a bit of shock that he made it to second. See if Jose Lopez eats cheeseburgers between innings, then Vidro eats chocolate cakes dipped in Spam and lard. Oh and add on the fact that his knees are non-existent and you have a slow dude in "scoring position". Hard to call it scoring position with all that lard dripping down your chin.

Lou Piniella intentionally walked Yuniesky Betancourt. Recognize! And Willie Bloomquist came to the plate. If you don't quite understand my feelings here, please read the previous blog entry. Of course Willie came through with a single to right field. And the hilarity ensued.

Vidro put down the cake and started to round third to go home, only third base coach Carlos Garcia put up a stop sign. Vidro, confused by Garcia's signals thinking he simply wanted some of the cake, wanted to get away from Carlos as soon as possible. Get your own cake Los! After a stop-start bone-grinding pause action, Vidro started chugging home. By this time, Jacque Jones had picked up the ball, ran into the dugout to relieve himself, got some new seeds, found a date for after the game in the bleachers, and thrown the ball home where Michael Barrett waited with a smile. Vidro, knowing how long it would take him to get up if he slid, decided to tip toe around the plate. At this time, Barrett thought he saw Carlos Zambrano running at him so he dropped the ball as he attempted to tag Vidro. Thinking the plate was made of lard, Vidro stepped lightly on the back side for a safe call and a 4-3 Mariner lead.

Yes, this actually happened and yes, it seemed as strange as it sounds.

Jamie Burke, back up catcher, drove in an insurance run and JJ Putz closed out the game despite apparently having the flu. And as the team congratulated each other, Putz did look like he wanted to puke on Bloomquist. Which would have been awesome.

Another improbable victory and another day longer enjoying baseball season.

Ichiro, Cheeseburgers, Jason Kendall, and no arms

I've wanted to write about the Mariners for days now. Yes, there are other things going on in sports such as the NBA Finals (seriously, can anyone really watch it?) and the French Open (capri pants boy is another story), but when your hometown team plays well it is hard to pay attention to anything else.

But I waited for a loss. I waited for something to make me mad. I didn't want to jinx it. And maybe this will jinx it, but I can't hold it in anymore.

34-26. The Seattle Mariners. One game out of the wild card. Four games out of first. In June no less!

It is one thing to beat up Texas and Baltimore, but going into San Diego for a sweep and following it up with a crazy 8-7 win over Cleveland is something else. The M's won 8 of their past 9 games thanks in part to Jose Lopez, Raul Ibanez, Ichiro, and JJ Putz and a team that simply will not quit.

In six of the eight wins, the Mariners trailed or tied their opponents in the seventh inning or later and went on to win. With Seattle down 4-3 in the 8th against Baltimore, Betancourt (yes! I love you!) singled home the tying run and Ichiro doubled home the winning run right after that. Ichiro followed those heroics by doubling home the winning run the next night as the M's came back from a 5-1 deficit in the 7th inning.

San Diego brought new challenges with their stellar relief corps, but it didn't matter much to Seattle as Ibanez homered in the 11th to win game one of the series. This marked Raaaauuuuuuul's second home run of the season which means that he either is old, hurt, or needing steroids again. More on this later.

The M's continued their disregard for the apparent strength of the Fathers with a furious comeback in game two. Ichiro (seriously, walk him) knocked in two runs and Lopez knocked in a run with a single in the 7th to cut the lead to 5-4. The eight brought in Scott Linebrink and his 1.88 ERA. Well Richie Sexson took a big fat crap on that ERA with a solo home run to tie the score. Lopez decided to remain productive with a RBI single in the ninth despite his propensity to eat cheeseburgers between innings (not sure if true, but his chubiness leads to the conclusion).

By the way, Jeff Weaver started this game and actually retired 11 batters in a row at some point. Once this happened I thought three potential outcomes to the universe:

1. We all die by either astroid or e coli outbreak

2. Weaver switched uniforms with his brother Jered

3. The Fathers felt really bad for Jeff so they starting sucking more than usual

I think three is the most likely as I and you are still alive. Anyway game three provided more heroics as the M's trailed 3-1 in the 7th. Except stupid relief pitcher hit Ben Broussard with a 0-2 pitch and runners on second and third. Now the bases were loaded and that silly Ichiro came to the plate. Hmmm, wonder what happens? Two RBI single of course as he thinks of his next hilarious quote. (In case you missed this gem, apparently Ichiro was not excited to go to Cleveland).

"To tell the truth, I'm not excited to go to Cleveland, but we have to," Ichiro said through an interpreter. "If I ever saw myself saying I'm excited going to Cleveland, I'd punch myself in the face, because I'm lying." (Seattle P-I)

The ninth inning belonged to one Willie Bloomquist as he grounded to third but beat it out for a single. Then after being bunted over, stole third base and scored on a Lopez (cheeseburger, cheeseburger!) RBI groundout. See that is perfect for Jose. You drive in the run, but still have time to go eat a delicious cheeseburger instead of a stupid single where you have to run the bases.

Putz closed out all three games as he continues to dominate. He might be the best closer in baseball with a 1.23 ERA, 0.58 WHIP, and 18 saves in 18 chances while walking only five and striking out 31 in 29 1/3 innings pitched. Automatic.

Now with wins coming out of their ears, the M's head to Cleveland in a classic one game series made up for a snowout game in April in which Mike Hargrove successfully convinced the umpires to call the game despite Paul Byrd throwing a no-hitter and having two outs and being one strike away in the fifth inning. See, a classic.

Apparently Raul found a new pack of syringes as he homered twice early and the M's built a 7-0 lead. I should note here that Ibanez states that he had an injured shoulder this season and it recently returned to 100% health on May 29. Since that date, Raul is hitting .345 with three of his four home runs this season. The only issue is that he also received a package with a return address of "Bonds, B." on it also on May 29.

Anyway the Mariners decided that they were bored or scared of the multitude of seagulls engulfing the field last night so they blew it and the Indians came back to tie the game 7-7 in the 8th. Raul drank a protein shake and came through with a RBI double in the ninth inning and Willie Bloomquist scored.

This brings me to my next point. I hate both Jeff Weaver and Willie Bloomquist. Yet how do you hate people that actually produce? Granted Weaver only did this for four innings before leaving the game due to back pain thus still remaining among the hated. But Bloomquist actually provides value as he hit .409 during this stretch of games and helped win at least two of them with big games. Man hating people is hard work!

On to people I don't hate like Ichiro. He now stands first in hits (82), fifth in runs (48), third in steals (17), and fourth in hitting (.337) in the American League. But more impressively are his clutch numbers.

.378 with runners on

.421 with runners in scoring position

.429 with runner on third and less than two outs

.625 with the bases loaded

.412 with men on and two outs

.429 with runners in scoring position and two outs

.379 close and late

Ridiculous. Hey, just for fun let's compare this to Jason Kendall of the Athletics.

.229 with runners on
.204 with runners in scoring position
.200 with runner on third and less than two outs
.333 with the bases loaded
.235 with men on and two outs
.190 with runners in scoring position and two outs
.163 close and late

That was fun. Look John Lackey is doing what all A's fans would like to do.

The M's still face an uphill battle as the A's (3.11 ERA #1 in AL) and Angels (3.85 ERA #3 in AL) dominate on the mound. And Seattle does not dominate on the mound, at least in terms of their starters. Felix isn't so ace-like right now with a 3-3 record and 4.41 ERA. Washburn rolls out a 5-5 mark with a 3.94 ERA, but has been awful the past two starts. Batista spends more time writing poetry than pitching effectively hence the 5.48 ERA (despite a 7-4 record including a win pitching one inning of relief at San Diego). Baek used to be sort of good, but a 5.22 ERA evokes images of Jae Seo. We know about Weaver.

In fact the starters made it through seven innings only once in this nine game stretch of dominance and that was Ryan Feierabend who is now back in Tacoma. Thus the bullpen has been stretched and stretched again like Mel Gibson in the end of "Braveheart". FREEDOM!

Henceforth three relievers are now on the DL (Sean White, Jon Huber, and Chris Reitsma) and Putz couldn't work yesterday. With Jake Woods and Jason Davis effectively sucking at their jobs, this leaves Eric O'Flaherty, Brandon Morrow, JJ, Sean Green, and George Sherrill to dominate. But if the starters can't give them some rest, all of their arms will fall off. And as you may know, pitching becomes increasingly more difficult when you don't have arms. Just look at Jim Abbott's career stats and he was only missing a hand.

Jim Abbott 87-108, 4.25 ERA. Now imagine what he could have done if he didn't have to spend all that time switching his glove around.

What's the point? The Mariners are on fire and competitive. But it won't last long if the starters don't step it up. Here's hoping Jarrod Washburn starts it today against the Cubbies.

Rec League Action

I stated during the first week of this men's rec league experiment that my only goal was to not die. To literally not end my life as I ran up and down the court.

Granted this was a slight exaggeration as I (a) do not eat McDonald's everyday (b) can run a little and (c) have some athletic ability. I also had no idea how horrible some of the players in our league would be, thus the comparison actually brought me confidence and the will to live. With a 5-2 record heading into last night, we needed a win to feel good again. We also need our scorer back and he showed up, although he didn't really score as much.

Knowing we had a 9:30 start time, I needed to get prepared. I jumped rope at practice for Prep and did some shooting (making quite a few), as I fully ignored my actual duties as a coach. Once I arrived home around 6:00, I knew I still had plenty of time. After two bowls of Organic Raisin Bran, I felt the need to rest. So I took a nap until 8:30. Feeling refreshed and alive, I set off to the gym at a time when I normally feel like sleeping for the night.

My shot still felt good in warm ups as we prepared for a late night battle. I started at point guard again as we only had six guys. Which if you remember correctly is one more than last week during the grueling, horrific double header.

Early on it was obvious this would be a tough one as the opponents came to play. With some solid guards and decent post players, as well as actual physical fitness and athleticism, this would be a nice match up for us. The spread seemed accurate listing us as a two point favorite.

With the other team in a zone, I had plenty of opportunities early to fire up threes. And I did so, only I didn't make any. I decided to make up for it on defense as I dove for a loose ball early, piling on top of some dude. Getting an early floor burn always fires up the squad. (By the way, I actually got floor burns which kind of hurts). We trail by 5-8 points for most of the first half as they get some easy buckets in transition. This is due mostly to their point guard who resembles a white Brian Jones from the Santa Clara days. Not in appearance, but definitely in demeanor. He also made me feel stupid the sixth or seventh time down the court. Early he would just stand there and pass over the defense. Seemed easy enough. Only this time he dribbled down and exploded on a quick crossover, leaving me standing on my heels and feeling like I pooped my pants.

Akon, our short somewhat retarded guard, looked more winded than usual. My guess involves some sort of alcholic debauchery the night before. I knew I needed to step it up. Fortunately I could do this due to either becoming more fit now in the eighth week or the nice nappy before the game. I hit a dribble pull up to get me on the board. We start to creep back in it.

My next basket surprised me the most. As Tim catches the ball on the low block, he gets doubled and I cut to the opposite side. He actually passes it to me and I go up for a lay in with a guy right next to me. Usually one of three things happens:

1. I get blocked with the ball usually then hitting me on the back or head and going out of bounds.
2. I miss out of fear of scenario #1.
3. I feel like I get fouled but because I look like such a woman when I do it, no ref gives me a call.

This time I made the lay in and it looked nice. It was weird.

With the three still not falling, I still felt confident. Which is also weird. I am such a self-depricating, low self-esteem basketball player that it actually makes me worse. Out of all the sports in the world, I think basketball and shooting in particular requires the most confidence. Today I had it despite my misses. I just felt good.

I boxed people out. I grabbed loose balls and then avoided defenders with swift around the back moves. I limited my turnovers. I actually thought while I still had zero points that I might be playing my best game. And I credit the nap and/or improved fitness. This must be what it feels like to have some sort of cardio fitness.

As the game continues, my game becomes ridiculously good. I hit a mid range jumper (deciding to show myself what I can do, rather than shoot threees and show everyone that I suck) and we are in the lead at this point. The game remains close as I push the ball up the court on the break. White Brian Jones (WBJ) and another defender stand in the way as we have a three on two. With Matt Airy to my right, everyone knows where I am passing the ball including WBJ. Only tonight is the night of confidence so as WBJ sprints to pick off the pass, I keep going and score a little runner in the lane. It is on brotha!

With a one point lead and two minutes remaining, I catch the ball from 15 feet. No hesitation, just water. I feel like Vincent Askew in his prime.

As the game continues, we hold onto our lead but it is tenious. Airy and Tim miss numerous free throws as our opponents attempt to prolong the game. Fortunately for us we have two things going in our favor.

1. They miss shots.
2. Me.

With WBJ barreling down the court and only myself back on d, we need a stop. Preparing to take a charge, he makes a smart decision and pulls up for a short jumper. Due to my intimidating presence and long reach, he misses. We still hold the lead.

Leading by one with only precious seconds remaining, our main man Harry gets fouled in the double bonus. (Side note: since I last called Harry our worst player, he has somewhat dominated. Hitting threes, finishing shots, rebounding, and making free throws. He definitely passed Akon and sometimes passes me in skill level). Swish and swish. Three point lead. Mock! Yeah! Ing! Yeah! Bird! Yeah!

Harry.

With a foul to give, Airy hacks WBJ as he dribbles to half court. He already told his team to shoot if they get fouled, so he throws a pass as Airy nails him. WBJ starts yelling, "I was shooting!" The refs don't buy it and we all want to staple his face to bologna and put it in a piranha tank. They get the ball in and chuck up a prayer. I find someone to box out and do it oh so well. Airy grabs the board and we win by three, covering the spread and feeling joyous in the process.

With my confidence comes results. 10 points, 5 rebounds, 5 assists, 1 steal. Not the best overall line, but the impact I made was monumental.

Current averages: 4.8 points, 4.6 rebounds, 6.8 assists, 2.5 steals. Not bad when your original goal is to stay alive.

As Airy and I left the gym and walked down to the lobby, we heard some strange laser sounds. It turned out to be a weird hippie guy and a chubby girl playing catch with a softball. As we approached, the chubby girl wound up and hurled the ball....straight into the ground. And you thought my confidence was high during the game.

What?

This Jonathan Mayo guy is really starting to piss me off.

After taking my advice (sort of), he now has the Mariners not taking a college relief pitcher with the #11 pick. But instead he gave them this horrible guy.

11. Seattle Mariners: Sean Doolittle, 1B, University of Virginia
It's been generally believed, almost from the get-go, that the Mariners would be looking for an arm at No. 11. But what if none of the ones they liked were there, like Casey Weathers? There were a ton of late rumors about Doolittle shooting up into the top half of the first round, as high as No. 3. With the pitching options not what they wanted, they could go in a completely different direction.Last projection: Casey Weathers

This guy apparently is a "safe" pick, who has very little upside (thank you Hubie Brown). In fact, look at what Mayo says about him.

Today's rumor of the day regarding such a "reach" player is about Virginia's Sean Doolittle. He's a nice player, a two-way standout who most look at as a hitter and not a left-handed pitcher. He's got a good approach at the plate, should hit for average, but hasn't shown much power in college -- most people think of him as a Mark Grace type. Maybe he develops some more pop when he's not worrying about pitching at the same time, but we're not talking major home run hitter here.

No! C'mon someone awesome instead. I am hoping for Beau Mills, Philipee Aumont or Matt Dominguez.