Ted Leo: Everything that is right about music

What a show he (and the Pharmacists) put on at the Picador tonight. This guy does everything so right: writes good hooks, varies the styles in his music just enough to maintain interest throughout an entire 2-hour set, throws "curve balls" into his music via sweet pedal effects and time changes, and interacts very well with his crowd. And energy! When Loki says "Mass genocide is the most exhausting activity one can engage in, outside of soccer" in Dogma, he obviously didn't catch a Ted Leo show during his exile from heaven. These guys are a rush.

Oh, and Ted: sorry about derailing your Michael Moriarty story with my "FUCK JANET RENO!" outburst. To my horror, Ted stopped his story and said, "Did somebody just say 'Fuck Ted Leo'?" I quickly replied, "NO! FUCK JANET RENO!" This time, he heard it as "Fuck Jaret Leto," which was beautiful. He said something along the lines of "I mean, yeah, he's pretty, but I don't think it would go that far. Maybe somebody can get me his number, though."

(Click here if you're wondering why I yelled FUCK JANET RENO during a story about Michael Moriarty--it's in the third paragraph under "Acting Career.")

Even the deaf are sick of Schilling's voice

Full disclosure: I hate the BoSox with every ounce of my being. I've loved the Yankees for 87.8% of my existence (since the 1978 Series, to be exact), so this is only natural. I rooted for the 1981 squad that took the opening two before losing out to the Dodgers. I grew up idolizing Don Mattingly and rooting for guys like Mike Pagliarulo and Roberto Kelly, even though those teams didn't do so hot. I put Willie Randolph's number on the back of my T-ball shirt. I'll always love John Wetteland for '96. I'll always love '98, and not because of the Big Mac/Slammin' Sammy circus. Even the 2001 season was special, despite the tough loss in the last at-bat.

Oops, I'm letting good feelings in. Let's stick with the dickweeds from Beantown.

What I'm saying is that I'm not impartial by any means, but there are certain truths that need to be said, regardless of the partisanship of the messenger. If it walks like a duck, and it quacks like a duck, it must be a duck. And if it whines like an attention-starved brat, and it grandstands like an attention-starved brat, then it must be Curt Schilling.

The "Bloody Sock Story" (or "How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Paint My Stockings") was laughable at best. Gary Thorne quoting Doug Mirabelli isn't exactly going to cause long-lasting shock waves. No one, not even this diehard Yankees fan, is going to believe that Schilling's ankle tampon was a Sherwin-Williams ad waiting to happen. After reading the story, I chuckled, and quickly dismissed it. A diehard Bronx Bombers fan said, "Huh. Doug Mirabelli is still around?" And left it at that.

But the "offended party" wouldn't let it go. Instead, he challenged anyone to wager $1 million on the authenticity of the blood. If tests prove his story, the other party must donate the $1M to ALS research. If the proof is in the paint, Schill will put $1M toward a charity of choice.

Some would call this a bold move.

Not this guy.

This is nothing more than a windbag "card jock" (as I call the poker players on ESPN) with a chip lead bullying the other players with his financial leverage. He can talk a big game because few people can risk calling his bluff.

Seriously, who is the target audience of Schill's throwing down of the gantlet? The sportswriters who are paid peanuts by 20%-profit-margin media machines? The average Joe who sees the price of a pack of today's baseball cards and remembers when that sort of coin could get you an MLB ticket?

And even if you could call his bluff, why? I'm betting (punny) that 99 out of 100 people probably already believe you, Schill.

But just for fun, I wish Mark Cuban would throw down a mil to see the test results. Maybe it will keep his wallet (or maybe he's more of a "murse" guy?) open long enough to buy the Cubs?

Fantasy Baseball '07: A Good Start

Somehow, even with the injuries piling up, I'm off to a fast start in The Family Beck (aka the fantasy baseball league I've been in for four years now). Last year I made it to the title game; this year, I'm hoping to make like Peyton Manning and finally win the big one, host "Saturday Night Live," make a ton of halfway funny commercials, and get real paid. Yo.

So yeah, almost four full weeks in, and as of the up-to-the-minute standings on Stat Tracker, I am in first place (second place, one game back, after three weeks). But one month does not a season make. Will my GM work that is shining in April carry me the whole way?

First the draft. When you look at how the first few rounds played out for me, it's a wonder I'm not down there with Matt's dad, near the cellar.

Round 1 (pick 3): Soriano, following Pujols and Santana. Yep, left A-Rod on the board for the next guy. Oops. Side note: this is my first year in the league without Miguel Cabrera, non-Yankee Man-Crush #2.

Round 2 (pick 18): Jeter, the Favorite Team Man-Crush. Finally, my favorite player is on my team. Of course, he's had six errors or whatever and the team stinks, but he's been fine. Just not Jimmy Rollins-fine, who went with the very next pick. Oops.

Round 3 (pick 23): Oswalt. This was an auto-pick; my computer froze up. Oh well.

Round 4 (pick 38): Non-Yankee man crush #1 Jake Peavy. Got the computer back online just in time. And finally a good pick.

Round 5 (pick 43): Figgins. On DL since Day One. Oops.

Round 6 (pick 58): Konerko. Hovering around Mendoza line.

Round 7 (pick 63): Hideki Matsui. 2 weeks on DL. So the injury count so far: Soriano for a week, Figgins all year, Matsui 2 weeks. Oooooooops.

Round 8 (pick 78): Tom Gordon. AYYYYYYYYYIIIIIIIIIIIIII. What am I doing?

So 78 picks in, and I've hit big on Peavy, sorta on Oswalt, a little bit on Jeter, and five foul tips/whiffs. How am I succeeding?

Here's where I kicked into high gear, at least based on April returns:

Round 9: Magglio. He's been crushing.

Round 10: Thome, who I turned into K-Rod in a straight-up trade. Makes up for taking Gordon in Round 8.

Rounds 11 and 12: Chris Young and Mussina. Young has been up and down; Mussina is no longer with the club. He went on the DL early, and with so many injuries and only one DL spot on the roster, had to cut someone to get some replacement bats. Oh well.

Round 13: Piazza. Got a DH to fill my catcher spot. Should work.

Round 14: Ervin Santana, who I turned into Howie Kendrick, who was hitting the cover off the ball until he broke a finger (so that's Soriano, Figgins, Matsui, Mussina, and Kendrick on the injured list--and the teammates Figgins and Kendrick both suffered broken fingers, weird).

Round 15: Nick Swisher. He (theoretically) could replace Thome's numbers, and so far, he has. But he hurt the hammy the other day, so let's put him on the ever-growing list.

Round 16: Ryan Dempster. Has limited the blow-ups to one Pujols long ball.

Round 17: Tim Hudson, arguably the April recipient of "steal of the draft." He's been as good as Peavy, 13 rounds later.

Rounds 18, 20 and 21 yielded nothing more than Adam Wainwright (Rd. 18). But I got my starting 3B in the 19th, Mark Teahen. Bad second week, but he rebounded to put up some dependable numbers.

20 and 21 were Chad Tracy and Jorge Cantu. They're not on the team, nor is Mussina. And Kendrick is occupying my DL slot for now. So the day before the season started, I picked up ......

Ian Kinsler. That'll work.

Since play began, I've also added Dan Wheeler (who I nearly picked up in favor of Tom Gordon before the season started), Josh Hamilton, and Chris Duncan.

Let's hope these fools succeed beyond April. Or if nothing else, let me crush Matt again and again, along with his "Short Hair Rules" pops!

Today's Required Reading: 4/11/2007

Not all interesting stories involve an Uncoachable Gangster. But the stories are worth sharing. So I'll start filing these under "Today's Required Reading." Today's installment: what appears to be an unfortunate typo or a bad translation from the Far East. Story generated typical racism discussion on message boards. I'm believing this was an accident with the most unfortunate of circumstances. (And even if I did suffer from white guilt, it appears the Chinese fucked this up, so there.)

Racial slur on sofa label stuns family