by Sean Heffernan

The Windy City is one of greatest places in the world to be a guy. A sports fan can find a professional sporting event almost every night of the year to attend. There are more sports bars and Irish pubs than any single drunk’s liver could handle in a lifetime. And the city is world famous for two of the greatest guy foods in history: pizzza and hot dogs. What else could you want in a city? Here’s my list of five things for a guy to do in Chicago, IL...

1. Enjoy the Best Baseball Town in America

The dislike between Chicago Cubs and White Sox fans is legendary and as fierce as any intercity rivalry in the country. I have a friend that will in the middle of any conversation burst into a “Cubs Suck” tirade without any apparent warning.

The Cubs’ Wrigley Field is one of the most hallowed sports venues in America. There’s truly nothing like watching the Cubs stumble all over the diamond and run face first into the ivy while sitting in the bleachers drinking a cold Old Style. Outside of the stadium awaiting you is block after block of bars and restaurants. Whether you’re looking for a sports bar, dance club, hole-in-the-wall, or reggae joint - you’ll have a good, dirty time in Wrigleyville.

On the Southside of town the White Sox have bragging rights after bringing home the World Series in 2005 (a feat the more popular Cubs haven’t done in over a century…seriously). The neighborhood might not be as trendy around the Sox’s U.S. Cellular Field as Wrigleyville, but the food inside the stadium puts The Friendly Confine's cuisine to shame. “The Cell” as its nicknamed has all the modern amenities Wrigley lacks as it was built in 1991 and since U.S. Cellular bought the rights in 2003 the stadium has been renovated regularly. After the game I suggest you hit up Schaller’s Pump for the bar’s legendary butt steak. It’ll kick your ass.

No matter if you’re a pompous yuppie of a Cubs fan, a classless degenerate of a Sox fan, or just a guy looking for a good time at the ballpark you’ll fit right in Chicago.

2. Viva Football/Futbol

It should tell you something that the most famous person in Chicago is none other than Mike Ditka - the mustached and pompadoured coach that led the 1985 Chicago Bears to the organization’s one and only Super Bowl victory. “Da Coach” eventually fell out of favor and was fired, but no one remembers that. In the fall, the city stops brawling over baseball and comes together to support the Monsters of the Midway. As it gets cold later on in the season, tailgaters’ polish sausage and Italian beef will keep you warm outside Solider Field. The Bears are on the front page of the Tribune and the Sun Times daily during the season, regardless if they are winning or losing. The team's home stadium may look like a weird spaceship from the outside, but inside it is a great place to watch a sporting event.

Bears tickets will, however, put a nice dent in your wallet. If you’re looking for a good time at a discount price, I suggest you opt for the type of football played just south of the city in Bridgeview, IL. Toyota Park is home to the MLS’s Chicago Fire as well as summer concerts, and the occasional national team game. I recently attended a Chicago Fire playoff game and sat in the Miller Lite deck. For the price of admission you get four beers and all you can eat concessions until the 20^th minute of the game. Needless to say I was a happy guy before half time with my pockets full of hot dogs and condiments. A Fire game is definitely one of the best bangs for your buck in the city. If you're into buck banging.

3. Go Watch the Ponies Run at Arlington

Your fortunes await you in the Northwest Suburbs at Arlington Park. Spend the entire day eating crab cakes, drinking cheap bear, listening to live music, and blowing as much or as little cash as you want at the over 80-year-old race track. You’re welcome at Arlington whether you’re a high roller or just a guy willing to part with a few bucks. You can dine on shrimp cocktail and filet mignon while wearing a monocle in the Million Room or slup it with the Regular Joes eating cheeseburgers and corn on the cob outdoors. People look forward to the track's trademark race, The Arlington Million, all year long when a million clams is awarded some midget on a horse. It’s a good time.

4. Eat Something Bad For You

Chicago isn’t famous for its salads. However if you’re looking for great guy food and willing take a few years off your life, you can’t find a better place than the Windy City. Chicago’s deep dish pizza is world famous with the likes of Gino’s East, Art of Pizza, Giordano’s, and Lou Malnati’s battling it out to be the best deep dish pie in Chicago. When I'm not in the mood for the city's trademark style of pizza making, I prefer to grab a jumbo NYC style slice and a free pop at Bacci Pizza for five dollars. Best deal ever.

When it comes to hot dogs you’d be hard pressed to walk down the street in most parts of Chicago and not run into a place that serves Vienna Beef wieners on a poppy seed bun with relish, mustard, tomato slices, dill pickle, sport peppers, celery salt, onion, and cucumber (can be smothered with cheese of course upon your request).

The Chicago style dog came about in the Great Depression when hot dog had to be your entire meal. Just don’t let any mustached Chicagoan catch you putting ketchup on your dog or you’ll get an earful. The general rule is for Chicago hot dog eating is that the dirtier looking the place the better the dog, but a few of the more popular places include Portillo’s, Superdawg, Gold Coast Dog’s, and Hot Doug’s.

Italian beef is another Chicago delicacy that no man should pass up in their lifetime. Hot beef on a warm bun dipped in Au Jus has probably killed more Chicago males than cancer in the last century. Al’s Beef and Buona Beef have taken the tradition into the mainstream, but they’re plenty of original places for a beef lover to sample all over the city.

If you want to avoid a heart attack or you’re a bit more of a classier individual, the city has some of the best restaurants in the country in every category imaginable, but personally I believe the city’s true soul is in its working class guy grub. Here’s to antacids! I think I just gained four pounds writing this article.

5. Laugh Until You Puke

For 50 years, The Second City has been at the forefront of improvised comedy. Since the theater opened in Chicago’s Old Town neighborhood in 1959, the company has expanded to Toronto and Hollywood. The theater’s famous alumni include John Belushi, Bill Murray, Chris Farley, Steve Carell, and Tina Fey. I went to see a show for my brother’s bachelor party and it was hysterical. A few months later I saw one of the actors on T.V.

Feature shows are always playing at Second City and training classes are available if you think you got what it takes to make people giggle. In the spirit of Second City a number of other improv troupes perform all over the city including the Improv Olympic and ComedySportz.

Chicago continues to be the leading city in American comedy so when you see a show you never know if you are watching the next SNL cast member or comic legend. So after you catch a game and eat entire deep dish pizza, go see a show and laugh until you puke.

Do you have any thoughts about what's a guy's good time in Chicago? Please comment below!

Friday night White Sox G.M. Kenny Williams pulled a rabbit out his hat acquiring San Diego Padres pitcher Jake Peavy in the waining hours of the MLB training deadline. ... Williams had been in the running for Peavy earlier in the year when it seemed the right hander would be on the move. White Sox manager Ozzie Guillen was pleased with the last second trade,"I was shocked, we got better and now we got one guy we wanted for a long time." The White Sox trail division leaders Detroit Tigers who earlier in the day picked up Seattle Mariners lefty Jarrod Washburn. Williams dealt four young White Sox pitching prospects for Peavy: Dexter Carter, Aaron Poreda, Adam Russell, Clayton Richard. The catch is that Peavy has been on DL for over a month with a right ankle injury. The 2007 CY Young winner should be ready to pitch by the end of August after a few rehab starts in the minors.

So what do the White Sox get in Jake Peavy? They add a ace pitcher to a staff that includes Mark Buerhle, Gavin Floyd, Jose Contreras, and John Danks. Peavy has a career ERA of 3.29 and was the pitcher in baseball hands down in 2007 with a 19-6 record, The main hope for the trade is to give the Sox a another great arm for September when they are battling for the central division title or for the Wild Card. Its always a risk trading for a player who isn't healthy, but White Sox fans can't complain that their G.M. doesn't have guts. Respect to Kenny Williams for pulling the trigger. This move certainly will make the next few months interesting on the south side of Chicago.

Does he have the body of work to get into Cooperstown?

Now with a perfect game and a no-hitter on his resume, it begs the question: is Mark Buehrle a Hall of Famer?

The Bombers debate in the latest forum

In the history of baseball, there have been 18 perfect games. The latest of those 18, of course, is Chicago White Sox left hander Mark Buehrle. In addition to his perfect game, Buehrle previously threw a no-hitter against the Texas Rangers in 2007.

Consider the names of the 5 other pitchers who have thrown both a perfect game and a no hitter: Cy Young, Addie Joss, Jim Bunning, Sandy Koufax, and Randy Johnson. Impressive, right? As a matter of fact, every one of those pitchers is (or will be in Randy Johnson's case) inducted in the Baseball Hall of Fame.

Does Buehrle belong?

Chris Cwik

Pros:
-Longevity - Buehrle was called up in 2000, he was only 21 years old. At age 30, he has already pitched 10 years in the majors.
- Durability - Over his 10 seasons in the majors. He has rarely been hurt and has had 8 straight season with over 200 innings pitched.
- Consistency - His 3.76 career ERA is well under the league average. He has only had one losing season out of his 10. Eight seasons with more than 200 IP.
-Achievements - Let's see, only the sixth pitcher to throw a no hitter and the perfect game.

Cons:
-Star power - Mark Buehrle is very good at what he does, but he has never been (and probably never will be) recognized as a superstar. He doesn't strike out many batters and throws in the mid-high 80s.
-Counting Stats - This is where Buehrle really struggles. The voters really consider things like K's and Wins. Buehrle has never won over 20 games in a season. As stated above, he doesn't overpower many batters and his highest K total was 165 in 2004. Not to mention, Buehrle only has 130 career wins. He would have to up his win total in the next 10 or so years to reach 300.
-Longevity - Let's keep in mind, Buehrle is about half way through his career. He has stayed durable and consistent thus far, but that could change as he gets older.
-Style - Buehrle relies on poise and control. What happens if he loses a few ticks off his fastball as he ages? Maybe hitters start to tee off against him. However, guys like Tom Glavine and Jamie Moyer pitched long into their 40s by relying on control and poise. Buehrle will need to pitch at least 10 more effective years to reach some of the counting stats the voters require.

Cwik: Mussina's bound for Cooperstown. Buerhle maybe?

Conclusion:
Buehrle has a long way to go in order to convince voters that he is worthy. However, the internet has enabled many stat-savvy writers to gain entry into the voting pool. These writers care less about wins, and more about the individual stats that pitchers put up. They may look at the fact that Buehrle put up an ERA well below the major league average, and that his team was the reason he hasn't won 20 games yet. In this way, he could very much be like Mike Mussina. Many stat-oriented writers thought Mussina was a hall of famer based on his consistency, strikeouts, and longevity. Many older writers pointed out that Moose never won 20 games in a season. Of course, that all changed when Mussina finally won 20 games in his final season. Now, it appears Moose is well on his way to the HOF. Buehrle is going to need to continue dominance over the next 10 years and hopefully luck his way into one or two 20 win seasons. With a little bit of luck, and a little bit of veteran savvy, Buehrle might just do it, but the odds are probably against him. Then again, there is nothing ordinary about Buehrle's career. Maybe he continues to defy the odds.

Blake

Gee... Thanks, Cwik. You basically just concluded that Mark Buehrle probably won't get in... but Maybe he does. Way to take a stance. You should run for office. "I don't necessarily think that the health care reforms will go through, but maybe they do." Who knows, right? Maybe he does, maybe he doesn't.

Here's what I do know: Mark Buehrle deserves a plaque in Cooperstown.

Looking at Cwik's Pros/Cons, Mark Buehrle's longevity, consistency, durability, and star power (from the cons listings) reminds me of another pitcher who started his career in Chicago...

Never struck out a lot of batters, relied on poise and precision, didn't light up the radar gun with mid-high 90s fastballs... C'mon, you're thinking it. Wild Bill's shitting himself... yup, he just realized it... Sean Hef not so much. He's reading up on Liverpool's Garrard's suspension or some foreign soccer shit.

Greg Maddux.

Greg Maddux is Mark Buerhle 1.0

Mark Buehrle is, not just comparable, but a dead ringer for Greg Maddux, a sure-fire Hall of Famer. Except Buehrle's better than Greg Maddux. Did that just blow your mind?

I hear feathers ruffling. And before you charge my Queens apartment with pitchforks and torches consider the following:

First, I'm conceding that Buehrle has never won 20 games in a season or a Gold Glove or reached 300 wins (and he won't. Buehrle has no desire to pitch for another 10-12 years) or a Cy Young (but this could should be the year).

The stats are a wash. Consider this, across the board, Maddux's numbers are fractionally better. And I stress fractional to the point that it's literally decimal points. A tenth of a point here, five tenths there... whatever. (http://www.baseball-reference.com/compare.cgi?top=/players/b/buehrma01.shtml)

The numbers wash when you consider that Maddux pitched in the NL for his entire career (weaker lineups with the pitchers hitting when compared to the AL with the DH) & Maddux pitched in more pitcher friendly parks than Buehrle (want to argue Atlanta's Turner Field, LA's Dodger Stadium, or San Diego's PetCo Park against The Cell? No, you don't.).

Both of Buehrle's history pieces came at home in a ballpark that sends off home runs like Hamas shoots off missiles. What makes the perfect game more amazing is that it was done in July when the ball was jumping off the bats... well, for the Sox anyways.

Mark Buehrle is Greg Maddux 2.0.. See what I'm sayin here?

So while Greg Maddux has 300 wins and 4 Cy Young Awards, he has neither a no-hitter nor a perfect game whereas Mark Buehrle--and only 4 other pitchers--has both.

Honestly, the only thing that's holding Buehrle's campaign up is the fact that he's been buried on some mediocre to bad White Sox teams. From 2001 - 2003, Buehrle was the only highlight of terrible Sox teams starring the oft injured Big Hurt's ankle, Magglio Ordonez's knee, and Carlos Lee's extra 30 lbs.

Think Greg Maddux would have his "star power" if he played with those craptacular Cubs teams in the 90s? Please, the Cubs were just as obscure as the Sox until Sammy Sosa started jacking 60 HRs a year.

Here's what Buehrle's final resume will most likely look when it's all said and done:

- 175 wins
- 3.80 ERA
- .600 Winning %
- No-hitter
- Perfect Game
- World Series Ring (a World Series in which he registered a save in Game 3)

Is he a first ballot Hall of Famer? There's no way the writers vote him in on the first go. Most likely, the writers put Buehrle in the hall on the 7-10th chance. But he's getting into the Hall, no questions asked.

Oh, and this just in tonight... Buehrle just added another bullet point to his resume: 45 consecutive batters retired. That's a major league record, kids. So like I said, Mark Buehrle's getting into the Hall of Fame.

Monty

Buehrle, 30, has thrown almost 2000 innings since being called up in 2000. Since then and entering Tuesday, he has a career ERA of 3.76, better than Mike Mussina and Andy Pettitte. In that same time, Buehrle has 133 wins, that’s more wins than CC Sabathia, Johan Santana and Curt Schilling. Buehrle has some nice credentials, but does that make him a possible Hall of Famer? Most likely not, Buehrle certainly has great aspects to his game, but the biggest difference between the hall of very good and the Hall of Fame is dominance. Granted, he has thrown a perfect game, one of 18 in MLB history to do so, Buehrle has never…

1. Won more than 20 games in a season, only won more than 16 once
2. Finished higher than 5th in Cy Young Voting, only one top five finish
3. Never struck out more than 200 hitters in a season, his highest is 165

Only one starting pitcher has a higher career ERA than Buehrle and has made the Hall that is Red Ruffing, who stopped pitching over 60 years ago. In fact, only 4 of the 75 pitcher in the HOF have an ERA of 3.60 or higher and of those players, Red Ruffing is the most recent to do so.

What do you Mean you forgot about RED RUFFING?!?!

In order for Buehrle to even be in consideration of the Hall, he needs to start dominating AL hitting soon and for a long time. Seeing as how unlikely that is, you can end the Mark Buehrle to the Hall discussion for now, if he gets to 300 wins, the discussion could be revisited. Mark Buehrle is reliable, sturdy and always good for a quick game. He may not become a Hall of Famer, but, having a World Series ring, hitting a home run, being a four time all-star, throwing two no-hitters and a perfect game is not bad to have on the resume.

Final Forum Verdict: 1 vote supporting, 1 vote opposing, and 1 vote twiddling its thumbs more nervously than Woody Allen. Bombers scorecard can't predict Mark Buehrle's Cooperstown destination. Blake fervidly holds that, while his is an opinion completely biased and partial, that Buehrle's going to the Hall and the Special Guest Bombers don't know shit from a hole in the ground. Monty straight up says, "No. Show me more." (Ask how that approach worked out for Pacman Jones in Vegas for me, will ya, pal?) And Cwik just pre-maturely ejaculated.

So what do you think? Buehrle adding the HOF to his autograph: Yes or No? Let us know how you see it.

Rock, Pitch, Catch.

You know it's a good moment when you feel like the credits are about to roll in a John Cusack movie.

Every sound drowns out as white noise and every movement seems to be in slow motion--especially in retrospect.

Allow me to set the scene:

I'm at my desk in Manhattan's Midtown East--a stone's throw from the Chrysler Building. The amount of work I have in front of me is suffocating. My desk is another area FEMA hasn't yet gotten to. I have publisher contracts, terms & conditions documents, notes, to-do lists, and empty bags of delivered deli sandwiches.

The game is in the top of the 6th and I'm using a supervisor's MLB.tv password, watching the game on "Mini View" positioned on the lower right hand corner of my screen, scrolling through the box score to get caught up. "God Dammit," I thought to myself, "I need to put the day games into my Outlook calendar." I always forget about day games until about an hour after first pitch. I remember them when I first sit down to my desk in the morning, but I never seem to be able to keep the thought around the time the game's set to start. As I scroll through the box score, I'm seeing a string of zeros that I need to double check.

Numbers are about 73% of my day in Excel. Check the formulas, check the format, make sure everything lines up, make sure nothing stands out, each row of numbers tells a story. The story in this string of zeros in the box score through 5.2 innings isn't something I've ever seen before while looking at the box score to see how the game's been going. No hits. Seveteen at-bats for the Rays, no hits. Errors? I scroll down to the Sox defensive notes below the offensive stats. None. No Errors. "Alexei must be awake this afternoon," I said to myself. Holy Shit! The White Sox have a perfect game going. Who's pitching? It's Buerhle. Wait... Buerhle?

Baby Buerhle

He's been the Sox's staff ace for 8 years now. I remember seeing him as a rookie in 2000 in the ALDS against Seattle, a series in which the Sox were swept. He hasn't changed much since. In fact, the only thing about Mark Buerhle that has changed is his now-I-have-it-now-I-don't facial hair (remember 2002's mutton chop sideburns? yeesh... And, yes, I had them too. Eventually.) and his habit of sliding on the tarp covering the infield during rain delays (a habit broken by threats of $5,000 fines from the front office). Mark Buerhle is the Everyman. He's such a relatable, regular guy that nobody ever gives him his due. Even I, the South Siders' biggest ambassador in New York when Obama's not in town, seem to glance over Buerhle when thinking of my Sox. And you know what? That's by design. That's exactly how Buerhle wants it. He takes the mound once every five days and follows a robotic pattern: rock into motion, pitch into the strike zone, and catch the return throw from the catcher. Rock, pitch, catch. Rock, pitch, catch.

Back to the top of the 6th: Kapler's up. I can never count Kapler out of anything. He's a stubborn son of a gun. Somebody told this guy he's too old to play. Somebody else set him up as a manager of a minor league team. What happens next? He says, "Screw these punk kids in the minors. I got somethin' else to give." Now he's in the second season of his second career as a big league ball player. Disney made "The Rookie" one Ray too early.

Gabe Kapler would have been a better story than Jim Morris.

Kapler grounds out to Boy Wonder Gordon Beckham at third: 5-3. Six innings perfect. It's still early though. There's still 3 more innings. That's one full swing through the line-up that includes 5 All-Stars (Pena, Longoria, Zobrist, Crawford, and Bartlett). Three more perfect innings is a lot to ask for from a guy that hopes--no,wants--you to hit the ball.

Bottom of the sixth. I have a meeting about a presentation for a campaign not set to launch until September. I sit through a re-group itching to get back to my desk to see what happens with Buerhle. Does he close or does flirting with the perfecto end at rubbing the small of its back? Meeting over. Perfect.

I get back to my computer, wake up my screen, put in my password just in time to see Gordon pop out to Pena at first to end the inning. But I don't care. I've already filed through the highlights of Josh Fields' grand slam (See what you did there, Josh? Job well done, sir. That's called hitting and we'd like to do be able to do it at a consistent clip. Thanks.) Great. Inning over, now let's get to the good stuff.

I scramble for my headphones during the commercial break between innings. "Hawk has got to be going nuts. I'll bet he's vibrating in his seat and Stoney is just wondering how the hell he could be sitting next to such a impartial homer of a Sox fan," I say to nobody in particular. Nobody outside Chicago knows or appreciates the greatness of listening to a Hawk Harrelson in the booth during a game. You don't feel like you're watching the game having to deal with intermittent comments about this pitch, what the manager said about that player, or any of that nonsense. No, you're watching the game with your overexcited old friend, uncle, grandfather. You're watching the game with somebody who shares your passion for the Good Guys--somebody who's heart is as black as yours during the summer.

He doesn't call the game. He cheers with you.

Found 'em. Earbuds go from my iTouch to my computer. And, yes, as I expected (hoped?), Hawk can barely contain himself. First batter of the inning, B.J. Upton. I don't care how much he struggles, he's nasty. And I'm willing to bet at this point, he's reeling to redeem himself for misplaying Alexei's line drive the night before. Not this time, B.J. grounds out to Alexei. 6-3. 8 outs to go.

Carl Crawford: Changeup right back at ya, Mark. 1-3. 7 outs to go.

The crowd's really getting into now. Every strike, every foul ball: it's all the most anticipated event of the day. In fact, I don't think I can handle this. I have enough work to keep me busy for the next millenia. I have approximately 175 unread emails sitting in my inbox. I really do have to get this stuff done, though. I don't want to create more work for my team as a result of my watching a perfect game that can very possibly still go sour any minute. But when will this ever happen again? I don't know. I can't predict things like this. My grandfather went an entire lifetime without having seen a White Sox World Series Winner. Nope, can't do it. I'm watching every second of this god damn game. Work's going to be there for the next 60 years of my life; perfect games and no hitters happen to your team once or twice in your life if you're lucky.

Evan Longoria: One pitch. Changeup. One can-of-corn fly ball to Jermaine Dye in right. 7 innings of perfect baseball.

I end up straying back to my Outlook to see if anybody's freaking on an "ASAP" basis. Blow it out your ass, ASAP. You'll get your deliverables, I'll hit my deadlines. Just work with me here. I answer 3 emails, organize 2 powerpoint slides, and manage to escape to take a leak so I won't have to miss any of the 8th or 9th.

I'm so excited that I can't handle it. My stomach's tighter than the OTHER Jay Cutler. The bodybuilding Jay Cutler. I haven't had a feeling this tight in my stomach since high school when, you know, I wasn't 25 pounds of beer and chicken wings. Without thinking, I commit the cardinal sin. I'm going straight to baseball fandom hell. "Hey, Buerhle's perfect through 7." And to the next guy, "Buerhle's perfect through 7." And to the VP of Research who knows everything there is to know about baseball, "Hey, Brad, Mark Buerhle is pitching into the 8th. Hasn't let a runner reach first. No hits, no walks."

No... I never had a single muscle like that. But you could imagine if I did, right?

Brad won't ever know it, but he's getting the call from the bullpen today. Dad couldn't make it to New York on such short notice. Brad's getting the spot start as the closest thing I can relate to as family. "Buerhle's got a perfect game going? Aw, come on, Will, I don't care about those Pale Hose," he says with a young man's antagonistic smirk on an old advertising VP man's face. "Let me turn on the radio. You can sit in my office and listen." I love this guy. "Man, act like I don't got this game on my computer taking up the full screen right now. Come on over, Brad. It's about to get wild over here." He lets out a knowing laugh. "My mistake, Will. How could I call you into question like that."

I forgot to take my piss. Jesus Christ... The game's back on and I've got a crowd around my desk. Three guys from the other side of the office floor, the guy who sits kitty corner to my desk, and a mix of people who pass by my desk but get tractor beamed back, I imagine, by the crowd hovering at my desk and what ends up being on the screen. A couple of women unhook themselves after they find out "it's only baseball". Thanks for coming, but this wasn't meant for you anyways. A couple others stay, "A perfect game? That's all strikes, right? I only know Randy Johnson did it like 2 years ago or something." Fair enough, A for effort. Please stay. Enjoy this with me.

The bottom of the 7th passes with my co-workers asking me to fill them in as if I've been watching the whole game. I haven't, but I talk like I do. After all, I've seen the highlights, right? The volume of the game is on my speakers now. No more earbuds, this is getting full volume. My dad ends up calling me, "Did you hear? We're trying to get it on the TV, but I don't think we have cable." He's always amazed when I tell him that I'm watching the game, or listening to it, at work. "They let you get away with that?" It's as if I'm stealing from the vault at Fort Knox. My brother IMs me. He pulls odd jobs and random tasks for one of the people in my dad's office. It's not a career choice, it's just a place to be online to bullshit with his older brother and his friends on AIM. He tells me they can't get the game on the TV because A.) the company doesn't have cable set up and B.) WhiteSox.com, MLB.com, ESPN.com, et al are all blocked. Nobody can see this unless they file into a bar on Clark St in downtown Chicago, which is funny because imagine how the office came to find out about it when the people coming in from the bars on Clark St came to talk--too many non-sequiturs and discrepancies to talk about here. If you're watching a PERFECT GAME over a Liquid Lunch on a Thursday, why go back to the office? You smell like booze and you're only thinking about the perfect game, right? Just go back to the bar and then go home.

Top of the 8th. I'm still on the phone with my dad, crowd's still around my desk. Here's where it starts to get surreal.

I can hear people talking behind me, almost as if I'm not there, while I'm on the phone with my old man.

"Look at this kid... he's gonna lose it with 2 outs in the 9th and we're just gonna move on. This is the biggest thing of his summer and we're sitting here trying to figure out how we forgot Chicago has two teams?"

"Yeah, really. I don't even like baseball. I just know that a perfect game is a big deal, I guess. Look at him. On the phone with Dad, his AIM's blowin' up all orange. This is pretty cool for him, I guess. I'm actually pretty jealous."

"Okay, Will." The voices are directed at me now. "Enough with the small talk with Dad, close the IMs, maximize the game. What are you doin' here?"

"Hey, Dad?" I say, "Lemme call you back in a bit. I got a crowd of anxious New Yorkers to deal with here."

First Up, Carlos Pena. His stats show up across the screen. 24 HRs? Jesus, this guy's a monster. Glad I drafted him in fantasy. But to hell with my "High School Never-Weres" ESPN.com fantasy team. I'm watching a fantasy right this second. First pitch to Pena, called strike. The crowd at the Cell cheers nervously with excitement. I'm getting chills and my right starts bouncing (I get antsy when I get worked up. You won't see it in my face, you'll see it building in my right leg. If you see it in my face, it's already too late. I'm about to snap.) It doesn't matter how quickly Buerhle works here. Each pitch, each stall between his rocking into motion, his pitching, and the umpire's call all culminate into held breaths and exhales mixed of relief, torture, and anticipation for the next pitch.

Second pitch to Pena: Changeup fouled off. OH, MAN! Did he just miss that, I thought.

Third pitch: STEEEEE! Pena goes down looking on a fastball on the outside corner, belt high. In other words, Pena looked at a meatball. He should have put that ball into Indiana. He knows it. Tail between his legs, Pena goes back to the dugout.

Ben Zobrist. I love this guy too. Goes about his business; and business is good. I'm nervous.

First pitch curveball fouled off. Ball. Foul ball for strike 2. Ball 2. Ball 3. Zobrist fouls out to Gordon Beckham on a changeup.

Two outs in the eighth. This is happening. It's going to happen. No way can he just let it go from here.

Pat Burrell. New to Tampa this year after a World Series Championship in Philadelphia and a career of underachieving.

Changeup called strike 1. YEAH, BABY! Here we go! Slider is absolutely RIPPED just barely foul of the left field line. It's so close to ruining everything that the ball spun around the umpire up the line. Any closer and it would have had been up to the home plate umpire to make the call. Thankfully, replays showed the 3rd base umpire to have seen it before his less than graceful twirl. Foul ball. Honest to God, that just felt like the final scene in Rookie of the Year when that guy who looked like Ogre from Revenge of the Nerds hammered the pitch from Hen-hen-ree-ree Row-ow-wen-wen-gard-gard-ner-ner-ner.

After everybody's settled down, Buerhle throws a fastball for ball 1. Fastball fouled off. Changeup fouled off. 1-2 count. Ball 2. 2-2. Changeup low and away softly lined to Beckham. Still perfect. Even more nervous. Jesus Christmas! Your mother fries good eggs!

Bottom of the 8th, the conversations continue. "I can't watch this. I don't know what you want from me... I blame my parents for making me a typical utterly neurotic New York Jew." My, that's a revealing statement. I'm going to leave that alone.

"CALL YOUR SONS! CALL YOUR DAUGHTERS! CALL YOUR FRIENDS! CALL YOUR NEIGHBORS! MARK BUERHLE HAS A PERFECT GAME GOING INTO THE 9TH!" ugh... Hawk said the same thing when Gavin Floyd had a no-hitter going last season against Detroit. Floyd ended up giving up a hit almost as soon as Hawk dropped that line. I swear to God if the same happens here...

The bottom of the 8th isn't much. Nobody cares. The Sox had already put up 5 runs. The game is won, but the perfect game remains. Oh, Carlos Quentin? You're back? Nice! Turn it on for us in the second half, big guy.

The camera's on Buerhle in the dugout. He's not by himself... no, this isn't the YES Network whereby once a week I'm subjected to a shot of David Cone or David Wells sitting by himself in the dugout. Buerhle's openly talking about it, it appears. He's playing grabass in the dugout. Hawk and Stoney are making note of it too. "Buerhle's not that type of player. He's not superstitious whereas so many other ball players traditionally have been. Yeah, he's throwing a perfect game and everybody knows it. He's not going to keep it a secret."

"Hopefully this doesn't backfire," I think to myself.

The bottom of the 8th passes with Beckham flying out and Jason Nix striking out. Sox fans at US Cellular go wild in anticipation of what's coming next. The stage is set for Mark Buerhle to, again, etch his name into history. What song do you think is running through his head right now? If it were me, I'd definitely be a Bruce Springsteen song. "Darkness on the Edge of Town", maybe? Does he go out for the ninth the same way he went out for the first with AC/DC's "Thunderstruck"? Or does he go out there only with the chills on his neck?

For the ninth, Ozzie puts Dewayne Wise into centerfield, moves Scott Podsednik to left, and takes out Carlos Quentin. Sorry, big guy, we aren't going to risk a perfect game on a dieing quail and your plantar fasciitis.

First batter of the ninth inning, Gabe Kapler. I'm fine with this. The 7, 8 ,9 batters are up in the ninth and Buerhle's been dealing all day long. We're good.

First pitch is a changeup called for a ball. The crowd moans. The umpire isn't going to give Buerhle's place in history to him easily.

Kapler tips the fastball from Buerhle. Just missed it. There's been a lot more foul balls in the late innings. The batters are seeing the ball better and getting a feel for how catcher Ramon Castro is calling the game.

Changeup fouled off. Two strikes. COME ON!!

Fastball. Ball 2. 2-2. Here we go, Buerhle. C'mon, kid. In my head, I'm reverting back to talking like I actually still play baseball as opposed to being fat just watching it. God damn, I want this to happen. I want to see this go all the way through.

Another fastball fouled off. Now I'm getting sick. Kapler's seeing the ball well enough to put his bat on it. It's only a matter of time before he puts it in play--

Oh, God. He just smacked a fastball--thigh high, inner half of the plate--to the power alley in left-center. He didn't hit the cover off the ball, but that's solid contact.

Wise is on his horse. He's going to run through the wall to catch this ball. He better. For his sake. The crowd around my desk just gave up on perfection. Not me. No way. Dewayne Wise might not be able to hit, but he can play the outfield for damn certain. Keep on goin, D-Wise. Keep Goin... Keep... Goin...

Holy Hell!

He's at the track... Leaps... THE BALL IS IN HIS GLOVE... at the wall, his body snaps like a crash test dummy... he hits the ground... he's getting up... AND SHOWS THE BALL!! HE GOT IT! YES! YES! YES! DEWAYNE WISE CAUGHT THE BALL! HE STOLE A HOME RUN FROM GABE KAPLER TO KEEP PERFECTION IN TACT!

The replay shows Wise bobbled the ball and almost put the perfect game into the centerfield grass. Nobody would have blamed him for the effort, but disappointment would have settled over US Cellular Field and Second City's Second Summer Franchise. Hawk calls it the greatest catch he's ever seen consider the circumstances. (Yeah, hyperbolic. But that's a different discussion.)

Everybody in the stadium, in my office, goes absolutely nuts after that catch. Nobody could actually believe a no-name defensive substitute made the play of the game to keep the perfect game intact.

The replay of Buerhle's reaction to the catch shows his stomach dropping and hopes crushed and then a facial expression that only said, "Thanks, Dewayne." He deals with it and moves on to whoever's up next.

Michel Hernandez. Strikes on swinging. I do my own strike 3 arm pumps and the crowd at The Cell is on its feet.

2 outs in the 9th. 1 out to go.

Hawk Harrelson can barely contain himself and Steve Stone can't get so much as a word in between Hawk's cheers.

Jason Bartlett comes to the plate hoping to be the guy to break up the perfect game. No team wants to be no-hit. There's just no dignity in not registering a single runner in a Major League Baseball game.

First pitch fastball. Called strike 1.

This cheer is notably louder than in the 7th and 8th innings. You can feel the excitement, the electricity. After Wise's catch, there's absolutely no chance that this perfect game isn't going through.

Fastball. Ball 1. Another fastball. Another ball. 2-1, hitter's count. Against an All-Star.

Unbelievable

Buerhle snaps off a slider. It will be his last pitch. And, appropriately so, a ground ball. A tailor-made ground ball, at that, to Alexei Ramirez at short. Alexei scoops the ball, flings it over to Josh Fields at first, and Celebrate. Exhale. Go Nuts. Soak it in. 6-3 in your scorebook to close out the perfect game for Mark Buerhle.

Hawk goes nuts, "Alexeeeeeiiiiii... YES! YES! YES! MARK BUERHLE! A PERFECT GAME!"

People now begin to linger back to work--back to reality. Myself included. But for those 45 minutes, I felt absolutely amazing witnessing a piece of history for my team.

We witness history more regularly than we'd all realize. Whether it be a Presidential news conference, an issue of the New York Times, or a baseball game, we all witness history but sometimes fail to acknowledge it.

Not this time, though; not for me. I rode that high of Mark Buerhle's perfect game for the rest of the afternoon as I received hand shakes and congratulations from every baseball fan in the office as though I had pitched the game myself. Silly, right? Wrong. Other fans appreciate the feeling of witnessing a player on your team accomplishing something so surreal that it's only happened twice in franchise history.

Before he left that day, Brad walked by my desk on his way out. "The Pale Hose! That Ozzie Guillen... he looks like a genius with that defensive substitution. Not bad, Will. Not bad at all," a ribbing is coming. I feel it, "Now only if people cared about the White Sox..." Yup, there it is. I know he's kidding. I've grown accustomed to the different type of humor on the East Coast and it serves me well.

A very typical New York sentiment, though, about so many topics: "Now only if people cared..."

Here's the thing, I don't need anybody else to care about my White Sox. I know I love my team more than I detest anybody else's. I'm content with that. And Mark Buerhle doesn't need anybody to recognize his perfect game. He knows he did it, he'll talk about it until his next start and possibly for the White Sox 2009 Season commemoration DVD. He doesn't need everybody to fawn over his accomplishment. In fact, he's already sick of talking about it. He's on to the main goal here: Win. Or Die Trying. Because, really, that's all that matters to Buerhle, whose outlook is representative of the entire team. Just go out there, do your job, and do it right. Rock, pitch, catch. Rock, pitch, catch.

Roll the credits. Happy ending. And with no White Sox to watch tonight, I've just added a slew of John Cusack movies to my Netflix.

Dr. Feel Good

Will the Northside and the Southside come alive?

The All-Star Break. No, not that 4-day set depriving us of action on the diamond. No, that 4-day set allowing us to take inventory on whether or not it's time to start looking to football season.

After the All-Star Break and a weekend series' worth of baseball, let's have a look at how each division is shaping up and who the big players are in each division...

Fighting out of the Windy City...

It's a rare occasion when Chicago's two baseball fan-bases can get excited about what lies ahead in August & September.

Fighting out of the blue corner, the Cubs look like a new team coming out for the dog days of summer. Did Rammy's coming off the DL mean that much? When did this turn of events happen? The team went from Ryan Dempster's broken toe and a "Oh, no, not again," to a four game winning streak out of the break? Everything about the Cubs organization is straight from Bizarro World.

Think about it like this: the Cubs next series are against the mightily struggling Phillies, the Dusty Baker led Reds, the Astros, and the hot/cold Marlins while the Cards take to the road against the Astros, one game against the Nationals, and the cream of the 1st half's crop Dodgers.

2 weeks ago this team was utterly depressing and just about out of it as the Taste of Chicago was taking over Grant Park. Now? This is the National League's most exciting prospect. A lot could happen here.

So typical Chicago... Cardinals win the Division. Cubs miss the Wild Card, but barely.

On the South Side, things are looking up--Jose Contreras' loss of control Sunday aside.

Alexei Ramirez, Konerko, Dye, Thome, Podsednik, and AJ are firing on all cylinders. And how bout them young guns? Gordon Beckham shows he's an everday player while Josh Fields' potential withers away on the bench; and Chris Getz is letting his bat catch up to his always impressive defense. The Sox are set on offense. The front office won't work to acquire anybody either: Carlos Quentin is coming back and he's going to show he's not just a one season fluke.

On the mound, Buerhle has been spot on all season (minus the misstep in Minnesota going into the All-Star Break), John Danks and Gavin Floyd have returned to form from last season's breakouts after a rough first month and a half. Clayton Richard is a growing concern, though. He's looked terrible for two solid months. After a self-reassignment to Triple-A, Jose Contreras is back. When he's on point, he's untouchable.

The only glaring concern that I can see lies in the bullpen. There's not one arm I'm comfortable with on that back end. Bobby Jenks almost gave away 2 games in the last month. Saturday's game to Batlimore (a 4-1 lead became a 4-3 win) and another to Minnesota (the only game the Sox won in that series). Scott Linebrink and Octavio Dotel aren't scaring anybody either. Matt Thornton's solid against left-handed hitting, but he's very hittable from the right side of the plate.

All that considered, though, it doesn't matter whether it's the bullpen or the starting rotation because Kenny Williams is already working. Do not be surprised if the White Sox are one of the teams that are offering final bids to the Blue Jays for Roy Halladay. Will Halladay end up a Good Guy? Probably not, but Kenny Williams is going to fight tooth and nail to be involved in that conversation.

The Sox are overtaking the Tigers before the month's over, winning the division, and headed to the playoffs. Mark it down.

The Powerhouse Division

The AL East.

Who's in: Boston (currently in first ahead of the Yankees by 1 game entering Monday), New York, and Tampa (4.5 games off the lead)

All signs point to Boston on this one. The starting pitching is endless. In fact, they have too much with Brad Penny dusting off his jersey once in a while. Big Papi's not back, but it's amazing what some eye drops can do for a portly Dominican. The rest of the lineup, excluding Varitek, is dirty. Theo Epstein seems to have an answer within the organization for everything. Julio Lugo, you suck? No, problem... enter Jed Lowrie and Nick Green.

The Yankees have too many questions in their bullpen and on the lower third of its lineup. Nick Swisher is hitting a miniscule .236, but, in fairness, does have an OBP around .370. Johnny Damon looks decrepit anytime he plays. A-Rod's gonna fade--again. And does anybody know how Mark Teixeira is going to hold up in August and September with the New York media begging him to throw somebody--ANYBODY--under the bus? I think he cracks. Tino Martinez he's not. (Sidebar: At Yankee Stadium on Sunday, I saw people wearing "Teixecutioner" t-shirts. Really? Too soon. I can't respect a play on a man's name to dub him a cold blooded killer when that man takes a bored billionaire's Twitter personally. Contribute in a win against Boston and post all the 75 character messages you like. Until then, you're just another Yankee free agent signing that hasn't contributed to one of those 26 championships. Live in the Now!)

So there's all that, and then there's the sidebar mentioned winless streak this season against Boston. If this keeps up, two or three most series against Boston and the Bronx Bombers quickly become Brown Bombers.

The Tampa Bay Rays are a different beast altogether. The team's youth has worked against it this year whereas last year it was its biggest asset. Not to worry though, the Rays will put it together and make it close in the weening weeks of September. And there's a team nobody's talking about in the running for the Roy Halladay Sweepstakes. Quick: name another team in the American League with more tradeable assets up and down the organization other than the Rays? You... in the back... Who just said the Royals. Leave the room and good day, sir. I Said Good Day, Sir!

Boston wins the division, Yanks miss the playoffs (GASP!), and so do the Rays.

The Sleeper Division

The AL West.

Mainly, it's The Sleeper Division because two-thirds of the country is sleeping by the time these games are played. But, honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if the AL West shifted the playoff balance and had 2 teams in the post-season this year.

Angels win the division, Rangers win the Wild Card.

Mark my words, Rangers in the playoffs. AND MORE JOSH HAMILTON STORIES! (Here's hoping for the Rays to really have a strong second half.)

Quadruple-A

The National League. Is there a less interesting half of a league in sports? Jeez this half of the big leagues is mediocre.

Wanna know what ends up happening here? Dodgers get to the World Series and lose 2 games in the process of the post-season. That's it.

Phillies win the NL East, but big deal. The Braves' biggest pitching weapon is "Small Game" Javy Lopez and the Mets have officially mailed it in. (Paging David Wright: You're still hitting above .325, your team is the most frustrating in baseball, and your new stadium has taken away 7 home runs according to the New York Post's approximations. Might be time to find a home that's not so... crackpot.)

Giants win the Wild Card, but that team is Divisional Round and done.

So hold off on all your NFL talk, Chicago. Neither Chi team will end up winning the World Series, or even a playoff series for that matter, but we've got plenty to watch from our summer boys come fall. Keep your Cubs and Sox hats firmly positioned on your heads and keep your Jay Cutler jerseys in the wrapping for a few weeks more.

L.A. Lakers: The Rich Keep on Getting Richer

by Sean Heffernan 

When Danny Ainge's masterpiece trade for Kevin Garnett and Jesus Biggelsworth (Ray Allen) turned the Boston Celtics from perennial loser to NBA Champion in a single year a new standard was set for NBA GM's to reach for the miracle move. ... This offseason has seen Shaq join Lebron in Cleveland, Vince Carter bolster the Orlando Magic's offense, former All Star Richard Jefferson head south to San Antonio,and Rasheed Wallace become Ainge's fourth amigo in Boston. Teams are feeling the pressure that they must wheel and deal if they want to have any chance at all to compete with the rest of the league.

One of the great things about American sports is the possibility that before each season you never never know if this year will be your team's year. Before last season, Arizona Cardinals fans certainly weren't poised for a Super Bowl run, but it happened. The Chicago White Sox surprised everyone when they won the World Series in 2005 without a single bonafide star player. The improbable in sports is what makes us watch.
 
Take for example European soccer. Most of the leagues in Europe are dominated by a few mega-rich teams year in and year out because they don't abide by a salary cap of any kind. In the English Premier League for example the same four teams (Chelsea, Manchester United, Liverpool, and Arsenal) finish in the top four almost every year. The rest of the clubs don't stand a chance unless they run into a couple hundred million dollars somewhere. Perhaps the same standard can't be held to European football because unlike American sports there are soccer leagues in every country in the world, but still something is lost in the predictability of it all.

 The NBA's offseason is far from over with big names like Carlos Boozer and Allen Iverson likely still to be on the move before all is said and done. In only a few months the gap between the Celtics, Lakers, Spurs, Cavs, Magic and the rest of league has grown significantly. The level of play when these teams collide next year in the playoffs might be off the charts, but is this the best thing for the NBA? Who's going to want to watch the Memphis Grizzlies play the Indiana Pacers next year?

 The NBA did lower their salary cap to cope with the suffering economic market, but they can't stop teams from pooling the league's best talent together. This trend is only gaining steam with the recent trades around the league. The rise of the NBA superteams could reach a fever pitch with all the superstar free agents available in 2010. When will it end? Is it the best thing for basketball? Share your thoughts below in the comments section.

Lebron, you asked for help. You got it. You definitely got a big body to go down low.

The Phoenix Suns agreed to send Shaq to Cleveland for Sacha Pavlovic, Ben Wallace, the No. 46 pick in the draft, and $500,000. MAKE IT RAIN!

The trade solidifies a few things for us going into tonight's draft: ...

1. Phoenix has officially entered Rebuilding Mode. Amare Stoudamire and Steve Nash might be on the move next.
2. Cleveland wants to win yesterday. That's the only reason Cleveland would trade for Shaq who's definitely running on low in the gas tank. He's got 1, Maybe 2, more solid seasons left in him. Would you believe it if I told you that Shaq's still putting up 17.8 points, 8.4 rebounds, and 1.4 blocks a game? More than that, would you find it equally as or more shocking that Shaq actually played in 75 games last year averaging 30 minutes a night? Me TOO! Really, I had no idea... I blame this on ESPN for sucking in its west coast coverage. The jury's still out on your LA Sportscenter...

As for the Rest of the Draft...

Blake Griffin goes first, Thabeet goes second (he'll suck, by the by), Rubio third, and Stephen Curry goes either 6th or 8th. Do any of those guys make a difference next year a la Derrick Rose? Nnnnnope.

The rest of the class is filled with 6th men, roster fillers, and D-leaguers.

With that, the Chicago Bulls select...

Nobody of any consequence.

I've had my fill of guys with solid college pedigrees (Hinrich from Kansas, Jay Williams/Duhon/Deng from Duke, Noah from Florida, etc.). If new GM Gar Forman goes anywhere near DeJaun Blair (achy-breaky knees, no heart), Tyler Hansbrough (all heart, too many miles), or Nick Calathes (PG out of Florida), I'm already claiming it a true Cubby Blue "Wait Till Next Year...".

Rumor mill's really churning hard on Kirk Hinrich's leaving the team this summer, if not tonight. If it's tonight, it's the No. 26 pick and Kirk Hinrich to Portland for Travis Outlaw and another guard. ANOTHER GUARD!

For the love of all things naked and alcoholic, show me a 4 or a 5 with B+ offensive ability downlow. Outlaw has some offensive ability (~13 pts per game, 1 offensive rebound per game), but I want a big body down low that's ready to bang.

Since there's nobody like that in the draft outside of Blake Griffin, I motion to mortgage the draft to get an established big man. The two options here are, in order of likelihood, Amare Stoudamire and Chris Bosh. I'd prefer Chris Bosh, but I'd settle for Amare Stoudamire--and it hurts to say that. Amare Stoudamire will play no more than 50 games next year and miss the entire post-season. Mark my words.

For Some Reason, People are Still Surprised Yao Ming's Big Ass Foot is Still Broken...

Wake me in February to talk about an NBA center that's constantly nursing a sore foot.

LSU Chalks Up Its 6th CWS Title...

Behind it's powerhouse offense.

After pouncing on the Longhorns for 4 early runs, Texas tied the game but couldn't put anything else together. LSU put up 6 more runs before the 9th as it brutally beat the hell out of Texas' pitching.

Every Texas pitcher looked scared shitless to be on the mound. Ouch.

In somewhat unrelated news, I'm roadtripping to Omaha next year to hit on every LSU sister, girlfriend, wife, and mother. The more mardi gras beads, the better. And upon my return, I'll be speaking Cajun dialect.

One City, Two Teams

Hopefully, I can say it for certain this time: The White Sox look to be putting it all together. HA! Noooo, I can't. But still... it could be worse. It could be the Cubs. Did anybody else see the embarrassment in Detroit? Even when I wouldn't mind--hell, I'd even prefer--a Cubs win, the Cubs just can't make it happen. Jesus God.

The Sox nutted all over the Dodgers, the best team in baseball, last night with 6 home runs including 2 off the bat of Josh Fields, while Gavin Floyd kept the Dodgers quiet at the plate giving up only 3 runs (1 earned)on 6 hits in 6 innings.

Somebody open up the gloves on defense though! Another multi-error game for the Sox as Gordon Beckham picks up his 4th on a ground ball and Alexei Ramirez tacks his 6th on a line drive.

And, Jimmy Gobble, you can go away now. Thank... no, no... Thank you. That'll be all.

Greatest mustache of my life.

Reciever Dante Stallworth is suspended indefinitely by NFL Commish Roger Goodell

The Cleveland Brown wide out received a controversial sentence for killing a pedestrian while driving under the influence of alcohol. 30 days in jail. A person dies and he gets 30 days. Michael Vick was in jail for like two years and his crimes weren't even people related. Did Stallworth bring back Johnny Cochrane from the dead for his guilty plea. Jaysus.

So now begins the "How is Goodell Going to Straighten Out This Bad Apple" debate on ESPN that will last forever. Way too many people think it's Goodell's job to turn these troubled players lives around. Say I'm a professional football player and I get into legal trouble. Do you think me walking into a room with some guy I've never met before is going make me see the light and turn me into a boy scout?

The first day of the US Open was rained out.

You know its a slow news day when precipitation is the top story.

How about Phil's hair? Sorry, that's all I got. Wake me up when John Daley makes a comeback.

On a more personal note the Heffernan men will venture out to golf course this Father's Day for a day of lost balls, divits, curse words, broken tees, ketchup stains, slices, and swass. A lot of swass. Seriously, I have a problem.

Confederations Cup: US Gets Owned By Brazil. Italy is Upset by Egypt.

Being the soccer nerd I've become I found a way to watch the U.S. get walloped by Kaka and company. Depressing to say the least. The team looked lost.

But a lighter side the Pharohs took down the defending World Champions Italy in a huge 1-0 victory. Now all the U.S. needs to do is beat them by at least 3 goals and hope the Italians get spanked by Brazil.

After that horrific of a performance I hope U.S. coach Bob Bradley shakes up the starting lineup quite a bit. C'mon boys give me some hope!

I hit my eight year old brother Brendan in the lip playing catch with a hard ball

While I've been in Columbus I've been working with the little guy with his baseball skills everyday and I think I've made him worse. Momma Hef says only rubber balls from now on. Probably a good idea. Kid was ok. Little blood, front lip the size of Angelina's. Credit to my buddy after he took it right in the kisser he came back out and started playing catch again. It reminded me of the Adam Sandler CD bit where he's in right field praying to God the batter doesn't hit it to him. Big game for the little guy on Saturday. Let's hope there's no tears.

Cubs Win!! DLee goes deep

Derek Lee is on a 14 game hit streak! His eight inning 2-run home run helped the Cubs beat the Southsiders 5-4. Kevin Gregg picked up the win actually. Jaysus.

The Headline

The Crosstown Series' opener was postponed last night.  With both teams looking as mediocre as ever, I was really hoping for a good game, a bench clearing brawl, and Carlos Zambrano's exploding his knee rounding second base. ...

What am I left with?  Mets - Orioles... great.  I'd rather watch the '69 World Series on ESPN Classic.

David Wright's dreamy and all, but the Mets' Mike Pelfrey blows harder than Linda Lovelace.

Today's Cubs-Sox Game

Danks v Dempster as the pitching match-up. Jermaine Dye should be back in the lineup after 3 days off, Paulie's lookin' good after a quick gut check with stretched thumb ligaments, and Gordon Beckham's looking like he's adjusting well to major league pitching.

As for the Cubs? No A-Ram, but Mike Fontenot is still swinging the stick as a illegitamate power threat. Pfff... please, let me know when Alfonso Soriano is hitting above .250.

With some warmer weather, I'm expecting (Re: Hoping) for the Sox's bats to B an L on the Bleacher Bums' Ts.

In case you're completely naive...

Sammy Sosa tested positive for steroids. Somebody finally leaked. Sure, it's a matter of semantics, but can we really call this a "leak"?

Confirming Sammy Sosa took steroids led to my sleeping better last night... or it could have been the Jack Daniels.

Honestly, before the Sox traded Sosa to the Cubs for George Bell, I would have bet my life that George Bell would have beaten the ever-loving shit out of Sosa. Then 1998 came and Sosa looked like Bobbly Lashley (formerly of the WWE, current of some backyard MMA league) before Bobby Lashley died his hair Demolition Man blonde.

Moving on...

Da Bears' Wide Receiving Corps Could Look Like a Less Famous Version of the Team of Convicts from Necessary Roughness...

If they sign Plaxico or Brandon Marshall. Personally, I wouldn't mind Brandon Marshall if I had an inkling that Lovie Smith would do more to keep him in line.

Doesn't Lovie Smith just strike you as the parent that disciplines his 5-year old child with "Let's talk about this. This is why this is bad. Now go to your room and think really hard about what you've done." Flash forward 10 years and everybody's trying to figure out why this kid is such a nightmarish hemorrhoid on the sphincter of society. All the ritaline in the world won't help this kid and all the inflatable Weeble-Wobbles dressed up in women's lingerie won't suffice Brandon Marshall's slap-a-ho muscles.

What about Plax, you say? I've said it once and I'll say it again: One false move and get swiss cheesed up.