If you have any concept of time, you might have noticed that it’s been a while.  (And by a while, I mean an unforgivably long time.)  I sincerely apologize for having neglected my duties.  All I can say by way of explanation is that life went and got a little hairy on me for a while.  Not hairy in the Kevin Youkilis overgrown face sense of the word.  But trust that things were equally as unmanageable. 

Unfortunately, I’m unable to promise you much different for a while.  Consequently, I’m sorry to inform you that Struck Out Looking has seen its final days. In other words, I’m retiring. Again.  (Thanks, Fav-ruh, for having paved the way.) 

Fortunately, with the Yanks on top of the world and a christned new stadium, I feel it’s as good a time as any to say goodbye.  I appreciate your readerhip and your comments.  If, after all my ranting and raving, I can leave you with only one message about my take on both the world of sports and at large, let it be this: That guy’s got hands like tits.

Let them write it on my tombstone.

With the Yanks on an unstoppable tear, and the Chowdas locked into a fairly close battle with the Rangers, Curt Schilling asks us to contemplate things unrelated to baseball.  Namely, his future in politics.

Several days ago, Schilling posted the transcript from his interview on the Dennis & Callahan Show onto his blog 38 Pitches.  Among other things, Schilling discusses the possibility of a run for Ted Kennedy’s senate seat.

(My apologies, Teddy. Presumably anytime anyone anywhere speaks or even writes those words, you have an aneurysm in your grave.)

In the interview, Schilling cites his impressive qualifications for the job, “My credentials are that I have no baggage. I have no special interests and I have no ties.”

Holy crap?  No relationships or history within the political arena are actual “credentials”?  So, like 99% of us are unwittingly qualified to be running for Senate. What are we thinking about, working our normal-people jobs?

All jokes aside, Schilling isn’t totally unrealistic about the fact that the Red Sox are more likely to overtake the Yankees and win the division than he is to get voted into replace one of the best-respected senators in the history of our great nation.  He comments, “lot of things would have to align themselves.”

Like all the stars and planets. (Mars, Jupiter, Pluto…Uranus.)

But, you know, he said he was looking into it: “There has to be some things done by specific dates. I’m not sure of all the rules and regulations because I haven’t looked into them.”

There’s a guy who’ll put an end to the horrors of incompetent and inefficient bureaucracy in government.

While Schilling’s interview might seem like something of a throw-away, if there’s one thing you can do to inspire a Schilling man to take action, it’s make fun of him.  And, well, lots of people did, obviously.  Schilling responded with another blog entry.  A serious one, with lots of exclamation points, in which he talks about issues.  For example, he gives us his philosophy on taxation: “Taxes? Sure I’ll pay them, regardless of the number. Would I prefer lower taxes? Sure, who wouldn’t? But I’ll pay, whatever they are, because that’s the cost of being able to live in this country and I’ve never had a problem with that.”

Schilling is predictably against abortion and gay marriage, but he’s evolved enough to respect the fact that *he* shouldn’t be the one to make those difficult choices on behalf of women, “The state you reside in should be the body that determines BOTH of those laws. Because I’m pro-life should have nothing to do with your belief or your opinion. The constituents you work for should be the people that decide those laws in the state they live in, period.”

Such a relief. The population at large and not Curt Schilling get to make my choices for me.

The most important thing that we should take away from Curt’s blog entry is that this isn’t a joke.  Yeah, I know, it may seem like a joke. You may be tempted to treat it like a joke.  Everyone else may act like it’s a joke. However, I assure you, it’s not a joke.  How do we know that?  Schilling tells us himself, “I have no idea if I’ll even do this, but if by some slim chance I do it won’t be a joke.”

Just to drive the point home, he adds, “And it won’t be for laughs.”

I just want to give a tip of the hat to former Bomber Aaron Boone who’s been activated off the Houston Astros DL a mere five months after undergoing open-heart surgery.

It was unclear that Boon would ever play ball again, let alone this season after his operation this past March for a congenital defect in his aortic valve. (I mean, Carl Pavano would likely have taken the opportunity to never get out of bed again.) However, Boone has already completed a minor league rehab assignment.

Boone was not in last night’s lineup against the Cubs, but Astros manager Cecil Cooper seems to want to get him out and playing sooner rather than later. (I mean, what the hell do the Astros have to lose at this point?)

Aaron Boone is, of course, one of those players who’s destined to go down in the annals of Bomber history.  His accomplishments weren’t varied and plentiful. But sometimes all it takes is one act of greatness to be remembered forever.  And his was an act of greatness, to be sure. Like, say, inventing cheese.

As a refresher, what he did was this…

And that eventually led to this…

At long last, the time has come.  Yankees fans are finally going to get their long overdue ninety minutes in the sun with George Steinbrenner.

Tomorrow night, the YES Network will be airing a special on the Boss.  And it’s a special, which according to YES president of production and programming, John Filipelli, “needed to be done.”

Since it’s the YES Network, we can count on the special to provide us with cutting edge insight and a raw, honest, three-dimensional look at the Boss and his tenure as the Yanks Commander-in-Chief.

As Filipelli put it: “That was the challenge, to capture all the various and sundry aspects of who Mr. Steinbrenner is and what he’s about in 90 minutes.”

In other words, due to time restrictions, they may have had to edit out a thing or two about Steinbrenner’s transgressions, his suspensions, his questionable character, his troubled relationships and his failing health.

If I had to guess, I’d say we should count on a ninety minute tribute to a “complicated” man who made the Yankees the franchise they are today.  Presumably, there will also be some footage of George on a golf cart woven in there.

Joe Torre is featured in the special, and I think the goal here is to point to the fact that even Steinbrenner’s alleged enemies seem to be cool with the guy.  Of course, as we all know, you’d be hard-pressed to ever get Torre to say anything unfavorable about anyone. (Unless he’s doing so in book form.)

Now, Don Zimmer, on the other hand. That’s an interview I’d like to see.

I can't get enough of this picture.

Call me old-fashioned, but I like a starter who can go for six, even seven innings. Gone, of course, are the days when it wasn’t considered a crazy feat of superhuman strength to pitch a complete game. That all ended when we started paying our pitchers enough to consider them worth “protecting.” But, still, I like a good long, solid start when I can get one.  You know one where the starter makes it through a minimum of, say, four innings.

Presumably, you know where I’m going with this.

Yes, that’s right, I’m talking about Joba.

Here’s the way I see it — there’s mindfulness and there’s going off the deep end. In Joba’s case, I think we’ve got a clear example of the Bomber’s having gone completely insane.  Back in the days when the great Joba debate was raging, the main argument for using Joba as a starter was to fully maximize his mind-blowing abilities. It seems to me that the current strategy – if one might even dignify this insanity by referring to it as a “strategy” —  is at odds with our goals as they relate to Joba. When the Yanks insist on forcing Joba to either take a stupid number of days of rest between outings or yank him after a measly three innings, that hardly seems an effective way of maximizing his potential.  Certainly not if maximizing means maximizing in a quantitative way.  Based on recent evidence, the Plan isn’t doing much to help him maximize the quality of his outings either.  However, if we stick to the current plan — pitching Joba on a regular five-day rotation while putting a ridiculous cap on his pitch count — the one thing the Yanks are certain to maximize is the level of fatigue in our bullpen.  The month before the postseason.

Joba has, at times shown great promise, to be sure.  I just don’t see how anyone sees this as a logical way to develop a young pitcher. Nor do I see how this could possibly stand to benefit the Yanks.  To point out what I would think should be the obvious, if Joba manages to avoid an injury because he’s only facing seven batters a week, it still doesn’t do us much good if he’s got nothing when he faces them.

And, again, if we’re afraid to make full use of this guy as an actual starter who pitches on a regular schedule and for a normal number of innings, why did we insist on making him a starter.

With only a few weeks to go until the postseason, I think the best possible way to prepare Joba for what might be a must-win Game 4 ALDS start is to let him get his groove back. Rest is one thing, rhythm is quite another. Joba’s got no chance of performing effectively when the time comes if we don’t let him get back into some kind of semblance of a normal flow.

But then again, what do I know?  My way the guy runs the same risk of winding up on the DL as — oh, I don’t know — pretty much every other ballplayer alive. Their way, we get a mediocre, infrequently used pitcher who’s just about guaranteed to never sustain an injury.

Tough call.

In this weekend’s series against the Chowdas, the Bombers — with their 6 1/2 game edge — have the opportunity to effectively secure the division and dash any real hopes the Sawx might have of catching our lead.

Or, as an alternative, in the words of George King, “They can allow the Red Sox to climb off the canvas and turn the final six weeks of the season into a two-way scoreboard-watching orgy.”

Sounds festive.

My vote is that we blow those Chowdas out of contention and save the scoreboard orgies for October. I don’t need any extra stress in my life.

Derek Jeter, whose refusal to acknowledge the significance of this particular rivalry makes me completely insane, will argue that our recent four-game sweep of the Chowdas makes no difference going into this weekend’s series.  I disagree.  I think that having wiped that 0 off our slate, it actually relieves some of the pressure, allows our boys to play to win like they would any other game. It relieves them of an added psychological burden.

More importantly, we are at a major advantage coming into the series.  Jeter is having a veritable orgy at the plate these days – he’s hit in 14 of his last 15 games with his average currently .331. (He is .446 with four dingers and nine RBIs in the last week.)  Cano and Teixeira are also going strong these days. Even Upper-deki, despite the issues with his knew, has blasted three in the last couple weeks.

As for the Chowdas, they’ve got an already floundering Varitek dealing with neck spasms. Papi, may have had a good run recently, but he’s still barely batting his weight and hardly the threat he used to be.

At the end of the day, it’s the pitching that will likely win us this series.  Both Pettitte and A.J. will face mediocre pitchers in Brad Penny and Junichi Tazawa.  Sunday’s game promises to provide the most interesting match-up with CC and Josh Beckett battling it out for their 15^th win of the season.

If the Yanks can take two of three in this series, that’ll be good enough for me.  Let ‘em battle with the Rangers and the Rays for their spot in the postseason. Let ‘em battle and hopefully lose. Call me a stick in the mud, but more than an opportunity to repeat the events of the 2003 ALCS, I’d like to be reading about Dustin Pedroia’s golf handicap this October.

Well, it’s official. Brett Fav-ruh is a Minnesota Viking. And cheeseheads everywhere are mad as hell and not going to take it anymore.  In the less than 48 hours since the announcement, fan forums and comments sections have been filled with the vitriolic rants of Packers fans who insist that Fav-ruh is nothing more than a traitor and a betrayer – a disappointment to everyone who hails from the great state of Wisconsin.

To the fans who would admonish him, Fav-ruh has but one simple message: “If you’re true Packers fans, you’d understand.”

Note to Fav-ruh: Team loyalty is actually not a concept that encompasses wanting what’s best for your main rival.  Even in the Midwest. Having values does not preclude a people from dedicated sports fanmanship.

Perhaps, though, Fav-ruh was simply referring to the bottom line, which is that any fan of any team is always going to want what’s best for football.  And, FYI, this is what’s best for football.  Fav-ruh commented at his press conference: “I think it’s great for football. I can’t see how you wouldn’t think it would be.”

Say what you will about people from the South.  At least they’re humble.

There’s been no explanation as to how Fav-ruh suddenly came to have faith in that body of his, the one that was just too beat up to go on as of July 28^th.   He’s made no statement that would have us believe that his physical condition has miraculously reversed itself since he declared himself unfit to play. However, maybe there’s a hidden meaning behind his message to Packers fans.  Like, if you’re true Packers fans, you’d understand that my body’s so jacked that all I could possibly do for your enemy is make things worse. So don’t sweat it.

If nothing elsbe, this constitutes the conclusion to this ridiculous saga. Though I give him a month before he’s shoved a bloody bag of animals guts into a teammate’s locker as a display of camaraderie. Could be a nice way to thank John David Booty for giving up his old number.

In 2008, the Texas Rangers served as an unofficial home for the wayward ballplayer, providing refuge for some of baseball’s most undesirable types – the crackheads, the ones with anger management issues.

Apparently, Donovan McNabb’s utopian vision for the Eagles would have them employing the ideology of the Rangers of ’08 when building their team this season. After all, he was the one who petitioned on behalf of Michael Vick. What’s more, just yesterday, he mentioned in yesterday’s press conference that he wouldn’t mind bringing Plaxico Burress – of Trapped in the Latin Quarter Club fame – on board as well.

What a hotbed of scandal and fun that’d be! But in a town like Philly? Where everything’s so…nice, pleasant, full of cheer and, well, brother love.  Could they handle all that real-life grit?  I mean, these are people who are scared of Santa Claus.  (True story: They snowballed him so that he’d go away and leave them to live peacefully in bucolic bliss.)  And he’s never been convicted of so much a misdemeanor.

If public outcry is any indication, many Eagles fans are no more eager to roll out the red carpet for Vick than they were for old St. Nick. A quick search on Craig’s List produces several listings by Eagles fans looking to dump their season tickets in protest. According to a philly.com poll with close to 39,000 participants, 51.1% of respondents were against the signing, 48.9% were for it.

It’s hard for me to be terribly objective when it comes to Vick. As I’ve mentioned before, I value the lives of most people more than the lives of most animals, and you’d be hard-pressed to get me to forgive a guy like Vick.  There is no sentence long enough to clean that slate in my mind.

That said, Vick did serve the legally mandated sentence, so the question becomes one of whether or not he’s allowed to continue to play football for a living. Of course, as we all know, Roger Goodell recently made that ruling and the answer was an unequivocal yes.  The Eagles were then quick to make that ruling a practical reality by offering him a job.  The question is was this right? Was any of this right?

In my gut, I say no.  People will argue he served his time, but the NFL rules stipulate that additional suspensions and fines may be doled out“ at the discretion of the commissioner.”  Playing professional sports, and getting paid millions of dollars to do so is a privilege.  No one will ever convince me otherwise.

The sometimes unjust reality of the world is that a person may continue to pay the consequences for a criminal action long after he’s served his time. Some industries or companies have stricter guidelines for people with criminal records. Some industries – such as professional football – have PR considerations.  Not to mention the fact that there is a code of conduct that dictates that “conduct undermining or risking the integrity or reputation of the NFL will be subject to disciplinary action, even if the conduct is not criminal.”

You’d be hard-pressed to convince me that Vick’s was not behavior that undermined the integrity of the NFL.

People have been drawing a lot of comparisons to players such as Donte Stallworth, who was convicted of killing a man while driving under the influence of alcohol. Stallworth was allowed to play in the NFL again. The argument for many, on this one, was fairly clear-cut.  Stallworth took the life of another person.  Vick, only the lives of dogs. Let’s leave aside the question of whether it’s reasonable to value the lives of animals as much as I do. The fundamental difference here, for me, is that Stallworth behaved recklessly, and in so doing, he robbed another person of his life. While it was wrong to drive under the influence of alcohol, it was an accident nonetheless – not indicative of a pattern of behavior or malicious intent. Michael Vick willfully tortured, abused, starved, and killed countless dogs for no better reason than profit and recreation. And he did it over and over and over again.  If the issue at hand were that Michael Vick had gotten high and hit a dog with his car, we’re not having this same debate.

But Goodell has spoken, and so have McNabb and the Eagles.  While the NFL ultimately had little to lose from this decision, the Eagles may yet pay the price. Only time will tell how permanently their fans will take to heart this lapse in judgment. I, for one, was pretty diligent about hating the Jets during their affiliation with Fav-ruh but was willing to forgive when his brief tenure with them had concluded. Of course, all he did was un-retired. He never tortured any dogs. (Though he wasn’t what you’d call a friend to the animals.)

Whatever the case, looks like McNabb is on his way to building his dream team. Though it’s fairly unlikely that his fantasy about bringing Plax on board will become a reality. Generally speaking, Plax may have a hard time nailing down a contract because of the inevitable suspension that he faces as soon as he does. For reasons that are unclear, Goodell is withholding the terms of said suspension until such time as this mythical signing take place. While there’s obviously no way of getting around a suspension in a case like this, in my mind, Plax is an example of someone who truly has already paid his debt to society.  He paid it in quad.

In response to my recent post about the fascist regime at the new Yankee Stadium,  I received the following e-mail from guest blogger and friend Chris Yamaoka.  It’s a real gem, so I thought I’d post it for you:

I have a question for you.  At the new, super fancy, super posh Yankee Stadium, when you get up to get some garlic fries and you get back to your section while there’s a batter in the box, do they let you sit down?  I went to SBC Park last night and was reminded of one of my least favorite things about it.  You’re trying to get back to your seat, or at least to the back of the section so you can see Rich Aurilia ground out to second, and this woman starts barking at you, “sir, SIR, could you please wait here…SIR?”  You have to wait in the freaking tunnel until the end of the at bat.  Only then may you inconvenience the locals by asking them if they can momentarily close their laptops so that you might sneak by.  It’s like they don’t get that this system has regulated itself for a century, and that everything will work itself out naturally even without SWAT team-Ushers holding back the maddened crowd.  The next step will be when I try to buy some peanuts and I hand a five to the guy sitting next to me, and they make him execute a money transfer receipt to evidence the transaction.  I’m sure they have a notary public on the staff.

Chris later sent me a follow-up e-mail acknowledging that he had gotten the name of the stadium wrong.  He doesn’t much care, though. And neither do I.  When a team changes change corporate sponsorship every other year, people can hardly be expected to remember the name of its stadium.

It is a truth universally acknowledged (by readers of this blog) that Kevin Youkilis has some truly disturbing facial hair.  More than his OBP, I would argue that it’s the facial hair that constitutes Youkilis’ most notable feature.   While I’ve always considered this particular facial hair to be indicative of a black and nefarious soul, as it turns out, there are scarier things in the world than Kevin Youkilis’ facial hair.  Like, for example, Kevin Youkilis’ facial hair charging straight at you on a mission of destruction.

Don’t believe me?  Ask Rick Porcello.

I am referring, of course, to Tuesday night’s benches-clearing brawl between the Tigers and the Chowdas.  After the Sox beaned Miguel Cabrera for the second time in as many nights, Porcello nailed Youk — also for the second day in a row.  While retaliation may have been the obvious motivator for this play, Porcello swears it was an accident.  Sounds a little implausible, right?  Yet, when Youk threw his helmet at Porcello before him ala Mike Lowell in the throws of a back-alley brawl, Porcello’s response was one of horror and surprise.  He saw that facial hair coming at him, and he fled like his very life depended on it.

Porcello responded in the manner of someone who had no idea what he had done to inspire the ire of the madman charging at him.  (While many have laughed at Porcello’s somewhat less than courageous response to the Attack of The Killer Youk, let is not go unsaid that he managed to toss the crazed Chowda onto the ground as almost an afterthought.)

Whether or not you buy Porcello’s claim that he hadn’t meant to do it (I do), this incident serves as further proof that Youk is about as unhinged as they come. True, I would imagine that it’s frustrating to be hit with a baseball two days in a row. If Youk’s got a problem with it, however, he’d be wise to take it up with your pitching staff.  Twice, they nailed Carbrera, sending him out of the game on Tuesday. It was inevitable that the Tigers would retaliate.  (This is if you assume that Porcello’s throw was even intentional, and I don’t.)  True, the move worked to the Chowdas advantage that day as both players were ejected, and the Tigers suffered without Porcello, who had been throwing a terrific game. However, in the final estimation, both players wound up with a five-game suspension.  (Hardly fair in Porcello’s case as he was clearly acting in his own defense.)  For Porcello, five games means one start.  For Youkilis, five games means five games. In mid-August.  With his team already pretty badly battered.

Yesterday, brought a more low-grade version of the same kind of conflict when James McDonald threw a pitch that was just a little bit too far inside for Pablo Sandoval’s taste.  The result was a lot of huffing and puffing, some yelling, an intervention by the home plate umpire who held Sandoval back as he gave the crowd his best, “Lemme at ‘im. Lemme at ‘im.”  The benches cleared, but it never progressed beyond a bit of shoving and chest-puffing.  In the end, no ejections, no suspensions.

On Baseball Tonight, John Kruk gave Sandoval a bit of a hard time, knocking his bluster, saying that you either go after the pitcher or you shut up and hit. My only question for John Kruk is, “Are you living in the Lake house?”

In baseball, flared tempers and cleared benches can serve a purpose.  However, it’s more the theater than the violence of these displays that actually serve the ultimate purpose.   It should never actually be anyone’s real intention to injure another player. All these guys play sports for a living.  They need their bodies intact and fully operational.  If a player incurs any injuries throughout the duration of the season, it should never be in the heat of a brawl.  So if you want to send the pitcher or an umpire a message, why encourage someone to throw a helmet when he can just as easily do it by kicking some dirt?

While Sandoval almost certainly overreacted, his restraint was at least indicative of an instinct for self-preservation.  Sandoval isn’t serving a suspension.   Youkilis is.

For the record, if you ever are so unfortunate as to incur the wrath of Kevin Youkilis, you do like Rick Porcello, and you run.  He’s no Mike Lowell, but the dude clearly knows his way around a dark alley.