And another thing...

Conspiracy 101

NASCAR Post Ahead . . .

I hate to sound like one of those wacko nutjob conspiracy junkies, or at least Tony Stewart. But didn't you find the way Dale Earnhardt Jr.'s wheel magically came off just as he was about to duel Jimmie Johnson for the lead in the dying laps Sunday just a bit too convenient?

I mean, tires go down all the time. But for an entire wheel to come off . . . well, your tire changers have to REALLY be asleep at the switch.

And considering all the blown engines Junior's had this season, again at inopportune times  . . . and considering he's out at DEI and was headed off to test his new Hendrick ride this week . . .

Yeesh. I DO sound like one of those wacko nutjob conspiracy junkies.

-- Ben Smith

Lateral movement

If you haven't seen it yet, check this out from the Trinity-Millsaps Division III game on Saturday.

Proof positive that traditional American football is vastly, vastly inferior to rugby.

(Although the more I watch it, the more I have the crazy notion that the whole thing was staged. Nobody can miss THAT many tackles, can they?).

-- Ben Smith

Clueless

I know it's only Tuesday, but this week's prize for Most Oblivious Public Utterance might already be a lock.

Hank Steinbrenner, come on down!

The guy in charge of the day-to-day operations for the New York Yankees took the requisite shot at the new lords of  baseball the other day, and it was a howler. Said, in so many words, that the Red Sox could have their Nation, because the Yankees had "the universe."

Like many of you, my reaction was twofold:

1. Hank's been into the hallucinogens again.

2. Maybe he's thinking of some OTHER universe, like the one where you pay ridiculous sums of money to free agents who are either past their primes or allergic to the playoffs, then compound that by paying even more sums of money to a 45-year-old pitcher who hasn't pitched in awhile, thinking he can save your tarpaper shack of a staff.

Arrogance doesn't begin to describe this. Delusion does, though.

-- Ben Smith    

A fine whine

Enough already. All this whining, it's giving me a headache.

I refer, of course, to those scattered folks who are beginning to complain about the way the New England Patriots are just crushing people without mercy, the latest example being the 52-7 warp job they laid on the poor Washington Redskins Sunday.

Blatantly running up the score, some people called that. Classless. Not sporting.

To which my response is this: I wasn't aware we were talking croquet here.

Hey, people, this is the NFL, which stands for "Not For (the) Lily-Livered," which means this ain't about sparing your opponents' feelings. It's a business. People get paid hideous wads of cash to engage in it. They're grown men, not high school kids playing for Gil Thorp.

Look, it's a shame the 'Skins got skinned so badly. But Tom Brady doesn't get paid to take it easy on 'em; for one thing, in Vegas they call that point shaving, and the NFL sort of frowns on that. These are professionals on both sides of the football, which means as much as Brady gets paid to stick it in the end zone as often as he can, the guys on defense get paid commensurately to keep him from doing it.

If they can't, too bad. Fire 'em and find someone who can.

-- Ben Smith

This week in Brady World

And now it's time for our weekly broken-field run around the NFL -- debuting in the Old Journalism (aka print) version of The Journal Gazette Tuesday, so start lining up for your copy now:

* Super Bowl XLI 1/2 is set. Tom Brady (played in the upcoming film version by God) threw for three touchdowns and ran for two more and looked, you know, maaaaaaahvelous, as the Patriots crushed the helpless Washington Redskins 52-7. Peyton Manning (God, in a dual role) broke Johnny Unitas' club record for career touchdown passes in a 31-7 beatdown of fellow division leader Carolina.

Next, of course, comes the Big One, which will be endlessly hyped this week until every one of us forgets that it's only a regular season game in November. Although Roger "The Hammer" Goodell is rumored to be thinking about simply handing the Lombardi Trophy to whoever wins and calling it a season.

* Say what you want about Cam Cameron's hapless Miami Dolphins, but don't ever say they're not versatile. The New York Football Giants beat them 13-10 in London on Sunday -- which proves that the Fish, now 0-8 and hot pursuit of 0-16, can stink on any continent.

* This week's Rex Grossman Update: A nice bounce-back week from the witness protection program for Rex, who watched Brian Griese throw four picks in a 16-7 home loss to the social-climbing Lions, and thought, "I can do that."

To which thousands of Bears fans replied, "Please don't."

* This week's Marty Schottenheimer, Won't You Come Home Update: Another big "W" for the Bolts, this one over the Texans, as the Norv Turner Error continues to build momentum toward a final shattering flameout in the playoffs. Antonio Cromartie ran back a fumble and an interception for scores. Turner's response was that he thought Cromartie's first name was "Warren", and that he still played for the Expos.

That's all for this week. Take it away, Ray Scott.

-- Ben Smith

   

No contest

Zzzzzzzzz ...

Oops, sorry. Would have posted something last night after the the Red Sox (yaaawwwn) finished (stretch) Hoovering the Rockies, but it was after midnight and . . . and . . . zzzzzzzz.

Sorry. Pretty hard to stay awake in this World Series, sponsored as was by Lunesta and all.

Seriously, was this not just a monumental mismatch? (And, please, don't talk to me about the two one-run games. One run might as well by 10 when you can trundle out Jonathan Papelbon in the ninth). Anyone who even remotely doubted that the American League is the only major league left in existence can't possibly doubt it now.

Something needs to happen, and soon, or the World Series might one day wind up being played between the American League winner -- excuse me, I meant "the Red Sox" -- and whoever wins the Japanese league. The National League certainly can't put up a fight anymore. Watching the ease with which the Red Sox put the Rockies away was mindful of those spring training games pairing major league teams against, say, Valdosta State.

I loved it when Peter Gammons gave A-Rod the back of his hand for timing the announcement he would test the free-agent waters for the middle of Game 4, but, really, didn't that just illustrate how irrelevant this Series was?  A guy who's never been anything but dead weight in the playoffs decides to leave a run-of-the-mill team clinging desperately to remembered greatness, and THAT'S what everyone's talking about?

Don't think it'll get any better, either. Consdering the wealth of young talent the Red Sox put on display in the playoffs, they're not going anywhere but right back where they were last night. The Dynasty lives.

-- Ben Smith      

On fire

NASCAR Post Ahead . . .

Remember a week or so ago, when all the gearheads had Jeff Gordon hoisting the Nextel Cup.

Take it out of his hands. I'll bank my next paycheck right now it belongs to Jimmie Johnson.

Johnson won again in Atlanta today, his second straight win, and now sits just nine points back of Jeff Gordon. Given his history of closing fast in the Chase, I'd have to say he's the frontrunner right now, and Gordon's just keeping the seat warm.

One more reason to like Johnson: The native of El Cajon, Calif., who grew up in the hills east of San Diego that have been charred by the California wildfires in the last week, donated all his winnings Sunday to the Red Cross relief effort there.  Good for him.

-- Ben Smith    

Dice Ribbie

We're in the third inning now out in Denver, and I've got to say this is shaping up to be another gruesome bloodletting.

The Red Sox are leading 6-0. Worse for the Rocktobers, two of the runs came off the bat of Daisuke Matsuzaka, who up until now wasn't known as Dice-K just for his pitching, if you know what I mean.

His two-run single was, ahem, his first major-league hit ever. That it came off Josh Fogg surprises me not in the least.

Fogg, after all, is a former Pirate. And as a long-suffering fan of the Buc-No's,  I can verify that he didn't pitch diddly-boo for them, either.

Still . . . a two-run single to Dice-K. Turning point of the Series, in my estimation. You give up a two-run single to a guy who mostly thinks of his bat as a stage prop, it is o-v-e-r.

-- Ben Smith   

Spat of the week

NASCAR Post Ahead ...

Sitting here waiting for something to happen in Game 3 of the World Series, so while I was waiting I thought I'd pass along one of those things that NASCAR hates since it's gone respectable: family feuds.

They're the last vestige that remains of the sport's hill-jack past, which is why they're something to be relished, even savored. This week's hot Hatfield-McCoy number is the tiff between Carl Edwards and Matt Kenseth, a pair of Roush-Fenway teammates who really, really don't like each other.

Alert network cameramen caught this dust-up between them at Martinsville last week. Enjoy.

-- Ben Smith   

Dust-ing off arms

So I see where Dusty Baker's first order of business in Cincinnati, according to FOXsports.com, was to contact Kerry Wood and Mark Prior to see if they might be interested in pitching for him again.

Why? So he can finish the job he started in Chicago -- aka blowing out their arms?

-- Ben Smith