The Roundup: Manny being Mannoying, the Kings' draft decisions and the coach with no shame

By Fernando Gallo

Was it a wrong turn at Albuquerque?

Manny Ramirez made a rehab start last night in Albuquerque, going 0-2 and staying mum about his drug violation bust. Thanks for continuing to be a stand-up guy! Seriously, has anyone ever given a damn less about what people think than Manny? The guy is a joke. He does what he pleases, shows up to the park in a uniform so baggy it looks like a kid wearing daddy’s clothes, and apologizes for absolutely nothing. Worse yet: nobody cares. The Dodgers will keep paying him, the fickle Dodger fans will adore him, he’ll hit a bunch of home runs and be in the postseason again. I’d like to be an athlete, because apparently accountability isn’t necessary. Just ask Mark McGwire or Barry Bonds.

A new Kings chant will be born: Ru-Bee-ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh! (here’s a link for the uninitiated)

Ricky Rubio during his stint at point guard
for the Spain National team. Picture by user
Rich115 on Flickr.

My appeal to Geoff Petrie: Please please please please please please please don’t screw this up. The No. 4 pick in Thursday’s NBA draft could be used on a variety of players, including Spanish sensation Ricky Rubio, punishing hybrid guard Tyreke Evans, or defensive specialist Hasheem Thabeet (if he falls that far – not likely). Aside from having awesome names, these three guys appear destined to be difference makers in the NBA.

The Sad Saga of Sammy Sosa

Sosa in the final years of his once
brilliant career. Photo from user
shgmom56 on Flickr - her second
straight on our blog. She's good.

By Jordan Guinn

In these troubled times of rampant unemployment, massive federal takeovers of banks and private industry and Iran's sham of an election, it makes perfect sense for the New York Times to report that Sammy Sosa tested positive for steroids in 2003.

This is the most shocking revelation in the pages of the Times since it endorsed Barack Obama for president.

Since I am the resident steroid expert on our desperately under-manned staff, it falls on my shoulders to write something on the Times' earth-shattering revelation regarding Sosa's use of performance-enhancing drugs.

Sosa went from being the most beloved Cubs icon since Ernie Banks to the most reviled person in the North Side of Chicago. Even former mayor Richard Daley and his son don't incite as much vile hatred in Illinois as Sosa does.

And Chicago fans are justified in feeling this way. Sosa duped them. He duped all of us. For years, we thought of Sosa as the energetic guy with the wide smile and kind eyes. We even tolerated his infantile finger-kissing-chest-thumping ritual. The media even did its best to portray it as charming.

But things started going downhill for Sosa on June 3, 2003. It was on that fateful day that Sosa broke his bat and cork sprayed across Wrigley Field's infield and forever changed the way Chicago, America and baseball itself viewed him. To his credit, Sosa's excuse was a fine one: That he mistakenly grabbed the bat he used to put on a show for the fans during batting practice.

Brilliant.

Too bad everyone but naive Cubs apologists saw right through it. Sosa came back to Wrigley after an eight-game suspension to cheers and fanfare, but the damage was done. Never again would Sosa be the favored son of Chicago. His reputation continued its free-fall in subsequent years and culminated with his abandonment of the Cubs on the final day of the 2004 season, when he left the stadium well before the game had ended. Sosa said he didn't leave, even though security footage showed his car exiting the garage while the game was still being played. He was traded to Baltimore after the 2004 season.

But corked bats and team abandonment would pale in comparison to what waited on the horizon for Sosa: a Congressional hearing. The St. Patrick's Day hearing in 2005 featured Mark McGwire's legacy-murdering testimony, Rafael Palmerio's finger-wagging and Sosa, ahem, forgetting how to speak English.

Sosa had a dismal 2005 with Baltimore and had to take 2006 off because no one wanted to risk signing him. In 2007, the organization he broke into the majors with, the Texas Rangers, inked him to a minor-league deal. Sosa made the team and went on to hit his 600th career home run. Had Sosa played a little bit longer, he could have broken Reggie Jackson's all-time record for strikeouts. Sosa's career ended 291 k's short of the record. It should be noted that Jackson played for 21 years and Sosa only played 18.

But Sosa thinks his career .273 batting average, copious strikeouts and zero Gold Gloves have punched his ticket to Cooperstown. In an interview with ESPNDeportes on June 4, Sosa said, "I will calmly wait for my induction to the Baseball Hall of Fame. Don't I have the numbers to be inducted?"

No Sammy, you don't.

Oh, before I forget, Commissioner Bud Selig did not make an on-the-record comment regarding the New York Times' report in Tuesday's paper. My birthday is just chock-full of surprises.

The Roundup: Marshall on the move? Kobe gets his and the boy wonder skips the prom

Press coverage? No problem.
But watch out for that Big
Mac box! Photo by user
JeffreyBeall on Flickr

I’m Lovin’ it

Brandon Marshall is a dope, plain and simple. He’s also immature, as evidenced by his inability to take the hit for previous injuries he inflicted on himself by supposedly slipping on a McDonald’s wrapper. As a man who’s enjoyed his share of McChickens in his day, I can tell you that I’ve never been close to slipping on a wrapper. I guess making a tip-toe catch in the back of the endzone is easier than avoiding a piece of paper from Mickey D’s.

But now Marshall has decided he’s done with the Denver Broncos, and everyone has a different opinion about what happens next. Should the Broncos trade him? No. As much of a child as Marshall is, he is still very talented and the Broncos need all the talent they can get right now. But then again, they shouldn’t have traded Jay Cutler, and we all know how that worked out. Josh McDaniels can’t afford to have disgruntled players in his first year as head coach, so Denver is likely to move Marshall if they get a decent offer. The Jets, Bears and Raiders are all teams that would get immediate upgrades from a guy like Marshall, provided he doesn’t fall over a Chicken McNuggets box at some point in 2009.

300 is the Loneliest Number

Is Randy Johnson the last 300-game winner?
Photo taken from Flickr. Photo can be found
here. Licensing info here.

By Jordan Guinn

Randy Johnson punched his ticket to Cooperstown with win number 300 in our nation’s capitol on Thursday. Amid all the controversy with Johnson’s personality and former teammates voicing their displeasure with him and his aloof nature, no one can debate that the Big Unit is the best pitcher of his generation, and possibly all-time.

He may not be personable, approachable or even much to look at, but he is steroid-free and fundamental. He has provided baseball fans with timeless clips of making hitters across several decades look foolish or downright petrified. Him buzzing John Kruk is one of my favorite All-Star game memories. Kruk was bailing out of every swing after Johnson sent a 100-mph fastball sailing over his head; it was like someone had a rope tied around his front ankle and tugged on it as every pitch came in.

What a Lucky Bastardo

One of the members of our list.
Do you know his strange name?
This photo was taken from a Flickr
account which can be found here.
Licensing info here.

By Fernando Gallo

Tuesday night was the major league debut of Phillies pitcher Antonio Bastardo, whose last name does indeed mean bastard in Spanish. The 23-year old got the victory against San Diego after six strong innings in which he gave up only one run, a solo shot by Adrian Gonzalez. Since Gonzalez is leading the majors in home runs (what the hell!?), I’d say that’s a pretty good start for the young Bastardo. In honor of his strange last name, Unsportsmanlike Conduct presents:

The Top Ten Strangest (and Funniest) Last Names in Sports:

Leave LeBron Alone

LeBron James photo from Flickr. For
licensing info, click here.

By Fernando Gallo

Lebron James is taking a lot of flack right now, with one Yahoo! Sports columnist even comparing him to an “immature, self-absorbed brat,” but ladies and gentlemen, how about a little perspective?

It wasn’t two weeks ago that the Orlando Magic was locked in a 2-2 tie with the Boston Celtics, with Paul Pierce refusing to let his team die without Kevin Garnett. After Game 5 of that series, I speculated that a stupid cheap shot by Dwight Howard might cost the Magic Game 6, and possibly the series. Imagine my surprise when Orlando finished off the Celtics, without Howard, and advanced to face Cleveland.

Of course, most believed the Magic would see its run end on the Midwestern plains of Ohio – the Cavaliers hadn’t lost a game through two rounds, and looked downright unstoppable. But then the Magic put a Howard-sized hand around Cleveland’s throat by going up 3-1, and delivered the knockout punch in Game 6.

Not a single one of Cleveland’s players looked like they could help the cause against Orlando, and the LeBron James show floundered. James may be the greatest player of his generation, but Jordan won nothing without Pippen, Magic always had Kareem to pass to, and Shaq, regardless of all his boasting, has never even made it to the NBA Finals without a reliable guard. James can't do it all by himself.

So forgive him if he was a little pissed off as the confetti rained down on him in Orlando. What more can the guy do? He’s a freakish talent to be sure – it’s almost as if someone took the starting five of another team and crammed them into his 6-foot, 8-inch frame. His playoff numbers were downright stupid - the guy nearly averaged a triple-double, for crying out loud. Clearly he also wants to win badly, and damned if he cares what anyone else thinks as evidenced by his willingness to wear a Yankee hat to an Indians home playoff game.

The problem is, no one on the Cavs seems to care half as much as he does. Mo Williams left his shooting touch in the second round, Ben Wallace and Wally Szczerbiak looked like over-the-hill has-beens (which is what they probably are), and Daniel “Boobie” Gibson was relegated to the bench for reasons I still don’t understand.

Is walking off the court without so much as a nod towards the victorious Magic a little rude? Sure. Is it completely classless? I wouldn’t go that far. After all, what is the biggest complaint from many fans about today’s athletes: That they don’t care enough about winning and it’s all about them first. I find it refreshing that LeBron was furious and didn’t care about sportsmanship at that moment (and apparently still doesn’t, since he hasn’t apologized). I don't want my teams to feel fine after a loss - I want the players to be as angry and frustrated in the arena as I am on my couch.

And that Yahoo! columnist who took so many shots at LeBron? Give me a break. In his column, which I would call haughty and self-riotous, he also blasted some of LeBron's worshippers - but I wonder if he includes himself in that group, since he wrote three columns over four days last month that glorified LeBron. How quickly they have turned on you, King James.

Yesterday’s athletes didn’t have multi-million dollar contracts and endorsement deals; they played simply for the love of the game. Hall-of-Famer Rollie Fingers appeared on the Oakland A’s local TV broadcast Sunday and said the day after the A’s had their championship parade in 1972, he had started his offseason job of stocking shelves at Sears. Those are the types of players I want on my team, and LeBron is a lot closer to them than he is to real ingrates like Latrell Sprewell or Terrell Owens.

I’m sure LeBron won’t be cancelling any future puppet commercials or giving Nike back any of its money, but at least he still values winning above anything else. With that in mind, it would behoove Danny Ferry to get LeBron some help ASAP, because he won’t be any happier about losing next season, when he’s in the final year of his contract with Cleveland.