Ends and Odds...

Big D over at Giants Win pointed out something today guaranteed to bring you right down. On July 22, 2006 the Giants were in first place in the west at 51 and 47. That would be the day Benitez gave up the portend of dark doom jack to Termel Sledge that sent this whole deal spiralling into pain and despair. Since that brief, shining moment in time the lads have slumbered their way to a smokin' 55 and 78 run. Some of the fresh faced and eager young minions working for me here at EMS are starting to lose faith. A lot of the botoxed and not so eager staffers are folding up on me too. Time to focus on the good things..

1. Corporate Naming Rights Park is a lovely place to watch a ball game.
2. er.......
3. ???
4. sigh....
5. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

The laws of supply and demand are always in play. The Giants have a deep surplus of aging and expensive players. I demand they be traded immediately. Unfortunately, other teams operate under the precepts of supply and demand too. I am guessing they won't be demanding aging and expensive players any time soon. I suppose if the Giants were to in fact supply other teams with a nice fat check to cover their salary for the next few years along with the aging and expensive players, we could be talking turkey. Or maybe Belgium.

Always willing to buck conventional wisdom the Giants are now exploring the obvious benefits of having a 33 year old rookie on the team. Sure, winning games is important but so is that seal of approval from the Gray Panthers. Surely, there must be compelling reasons why a player spends 10, 12 years in the minors before becoming the crucial missing link that ties this baby together like the perfectly aligned DNA strand that is Kate Beckinsale, but I blindly reject them as invalid and possibly ageist. Let's keep good thoughts.

I am all for individuality and self expression. However, I believe the root word for uniform is...uniform. How can the Giants present a united front if they all wear different sleeves? If half the team is wearing their pants like knickers and the other half is holding them down around their spikes with the same little elastic strap my mom used in 1961 to keep those kicky little stretch numbers sitting just so, what are they telling us?