Sosa Watch

The Tribune's Phil Rogers wrote about the only thing that worries me, that being the nitpickiness of Orioles owner Peter Angelos, who still could kill this deal:

After failing to land Delgado and a cast of others, including Carlos Beltran and Tim Hudson, Angelos needed Sosa as much for his franchise's credibility as for manager Lee Mazzilli's roster.

With Tejada, Sosa and Rafael Palmeiro, the Orioles could be an interesting team in 2005, if not a contender. Angelos believes he's getting a bargain (the Cubs are paying a reported $12.5 million of what he is owed), which is why he's trying to do his part to get the trade finalized.

Sosa, too, seems eager to hang with Tejada, not to mention to take his hacks at the 364-foot left-center power alley at Camden Yards. But those No. 21 Cubs jerseys haven't become collector's items just yet.

Read the full piece here.

Sosa Watch

The Daily Herald's Bruce Miles examines Sammy's past in an aptly titled piece, "Why Sosa Had to Go":

Sosa's irreconcilable differences with the team in general and manager Dusty Baker in particular didn't begin with Sosa's walkout on the final day of the 2004 season.

They ended there.

Truth be told, Sosa has had an up-and-down relationship with various members of the Cubs family since the team obtained him in a trade with the White Sox on March 30, 1992.

Early on in his Cubs days, many veteran players were openly hostile toward Sosa, whom they perceived to be getting preferential treatment from then-general manager Larry Himes, who also obtained Sosa when he was GM of the White Sox.

Read the full piece here.

Sosa Watch

From the Daily Herald's Barry Rozner:

The focus for too long on the North Side has been on hops and skips and mammoth bombs, and too little time was spent wondering why big numbers didn't translate into pennants.

A new era is officially under way, and the days of Barnum and Bailey would seem to be over.

No matter your feelings for Sosa or the way the Cubs handled it, the bottom line is Sosa is better off chasing 600 in Baltimore and the Cubs are a better team today without Sosa than they were with him.

Read the full piece here.

Sosa Watch

EPSN.com columnist Jayson Stark checks in on everyone's least favorite right-fielder:

Oh, he could have gone back. Weirder things have happened. But why? Who would that have benefited? Think of all the damage control that would have been sitting on Sosa's place mat. With his manager. With his teammates. Even with the paying customers who once thought the sight of Sammy stalking toward home plate was right up there with Jordan defying gravity or Ditka stomping the sidelines.

Teams getting geared up for a playoff charge don't need to spend their spring training at the circus. They need to get their brains trained on baseball.

But Spring With Sammy would have been a nonstop carnival. Did he and Dusty talk today? Did they dodge each other's glance? Did they laugh? Scowl? Go to a movie?

Who needed that?

Not the Cubs.

Read the whole piece here.

Sosa Watch

Chicago Tribune columnist Rick Morrisey hits the nail on the head in Sunday's column:

When a player corks his bat, as Sosa did in 2003, it's because he thinks he can get a competitive edge. But for Sosa, it was much more than that. It was that he lived for the home run, for the manliest, most individual, most American thing in all of sports. The corking was a selfish act by a man who put those home runs ahead of everything and everybody else.

When Sosa walked out during the last game of 2004, it wasn't because he was frustrated about the way the Cubs had fallen apart in the final weeks of the season—a virulent little fiction that has sprung up of late. It was because he was upset about perceived poor treatment from manager Dusty Baker. It had nothing to do with the concept of team.

...

For veteran Cubs observers, there are no qualifiers to this trade. You're either in or you're out. You're either a Sosa fan or you're not. For those of us who believe the Cubs absolutely are doing the right thing, there will be no turning back and no bellyaching come September.

The success of the trade does not depend on how Sosa plays for the Orioles this season. If he hits 50 home runs, it will not mean the Cubs made a mistake. The success of the trade will be that it was made. The success of the trade will not be gauged by whom the Cubs get in return for Sosa. They could get the next Mickey Mantle or the next Mickey Rooney, and it won't matter. The success of the trade will be that it was made.

Doesn't matter if the Cubs finish a game out of the playoffs. Doesn't matter if they miss the playoffs because of a lack of power.

Moving Sosa is the right thing now and forever. He walked out on his teammates. End of story.

Read the full piece here.

Sosa Watch

As the wait for The Trade becomes official pushes on until Tuesday at the earliest, I'll pepper the site with a sampling of what the local and national media are saying about his Samminess (rather than lump them all into one post). For starters, here's ESPN.com's Gene Wojciechowski:

You want to know why Sosa is no longer a Cub? Because he forgot how to take the temperature of a city that can stomach losing but despises frauds. He underestimated the long-term effects of his annual late arrivals to spring training, his no-shows at the yearly Cubs Convention, the 2003 corked-bat incident, the 2004 hissy fits when Baker had no choice but to drop him in the batting order, the ditch-and-lie incident of Oct. 3.

Had Sosa made any effort to repair the public relations damage, he'd still be a Cub today. Instead, one of his agents issued a half-hearted, carefully worded non-apology apology to explain the ditching episode. And just a few days ago, another Sosa agent told The Sporting News that Sosa "deserves better than this."

Actually, he deserves exactly this. After all, this is a legacy Sosa forged himself, home run by home run, insolent act by insolent act. He was showered with fame, fortune and, at times, boos -- and in the end, he didn't know how to handle any of the three.

Read the full column here.

The end of an era

The Sammy Sosa era in Chicago is over.

ESPN. com says so here. I'm just now (at 12:23 a.m. with a Taco Bell chicken quesadilla to devour) learning this, and it hasn't sunk all the way in yet. But I'm very, very excited, to say the least.

Expect more from me later, including the obligatory review of what all the newspapers have to say. Right now I have to watch Tim Kurkjian on SportsCenter.

In case you're wondering...

If the question is "Can you eat an entire box of Creamy Parmesan Tuna Helper in one sitting?," the answer is yes.

Life with Baby

Kristie left for the annual All-State festival in Peoria, Ill., around 2 p.m. yesterday. Since she's the high school band director this year she's serving as a chaperone (even though the only All-Staters from Fulton are in choir) as opposed to the last two years where she merely had to attend seminars and concerts and stuff.

Anyhow, since I have to get to work around 5:15 a.m., I decided the easiest thing to do would be to spend last night at the in-laws. The alternative was to get up about 30 minutes earlier than usual (and usual is a 4:40 a.m. wake-up call), which wouldn't have been so bad on its own, except I also would have had to wake Jack from a sound slumber (never a good idea), haul him outside into January Iowa temperatures and then drive him over to Fulton and cause grandma to wake up early to handle our little bundle of joy, then go back to Clinton for work.

By crashing at the in-laws, I figured I could deal with Jack in the middle of the night (if needed -- he hadn't gotten up in the middle of the night since last Thursday) and then leave him asleep to wake up around 6:30 or 7 a.m.

Ha.

Everything went according to plan on the front end. Jack crashed at 8 p.m. (and, really, after "American Idol" ends, why stay up?) and I gave it up about 30 minutes later once I was sure he was asleep. Kristie called me around 10:30 and woke me up (my fault since I'd forgotten to turn off my phone) and we had a nice little chat. Next thing I heard was my alarm at 4:30.

As I made my way downstairs after my shower, I could tell Jack was up. Kristie's mom was prepping a bottle (the typical method for putting him back out). I made as little noise as possible so as not to give him any reason to wake up. I slipped out the door and headed off to work, along with the breakfast of champions: Quaker Oatmeal Square and a Butterfinger granola bar.

When I called to check in later this morning, I learned two things. One, Jack had gotten up at 11:30 p.m. and Kristie's mom fed him and put him straight back down without involving me in the process. I felt bad she had to deal with it (the crib is in their room) but wasn't too upset about getting my own good night's sleep.

Two, Jack didn't go back to sleep after his 5 a.m. feeding, meaning he was up for the day about 2 hours earlier than usual.

Anyhow, I'm working the night shift tomorrow, so Jack and I are at home now. He's taking his afternoon nap (which I hope will keep him up tonight until about 9 or 9:30 at the latest, a good way to ensure a solid night's sleep) and no matter what he does tonight it won't put out Kristie's parents any. They'll just be hassled with him tomorrow afternoon and evening (and a little in the late morning when I go to give blood). Fortunately, he's cute and friendly so it isn't a huge inconvenience, but I still suspect they'd like some free time.

Also today, I learned I can buy myself about 30 minutes of video gaming by dumping Jack in his playpen with his toys. I usually only take such a measure when there's laundry to do, but I have to practice my Madden 2005 skills for a PS2 tournament this Sunday at Culver's. Matt's coming out to join me, and it will be the subject of my column this week. So look for that, I guess.

On another note, Kristie called while I was driving around this afternoon, eating an ice cream cone and ensuring Jack stayed asleep. I put the phone on speaker, set it on my armrest and proceeded to have a very good conversation and finish my cone (M&M Swirl, if you're wondering) without too much hassle. Very, very handy, I must say.

I also got my first copy of the official Cubs' magazine Vine Line today (thanks Mom) and look forward to reading all of the Ryne Sandberg Hall of Fame stuff. I'll also scour the issue to see if they need me as a full-time writer/editor. There's a dream job for you.

The value of college

This column originally was to have a different focus but I couldn't get my sources lined up. That piece should run in two weeks.

CLINTON — I saw an awful thing on the news last week.

No, it wasn’t video of Iraq or tsunami victims. Those situations are truly awful. What I saw just caused me to wonder how some people’s brains work.

It was a Rock Island, Ill., woman worried about the closing of a school. The woman, a parent, said she went to the school 30 years ago and it was just fine. She wondered why people were always trying to change and — here’s the worst part — “Why do we always need to improve everything?”
Gee, where should I start?

We need to improve everything because public education has changed. The main goal of every public school district in this country should be to prepare students for college. If a student does not intend to go to college they should be offered as many vocational opportunities as possible in order to help get them started on the right food in what we like to call The Real World.

If you don’t believe college is important, perhaps Christie Vilsack can convince you otherwise. Iowa’s First Lady spoke to Prince of Peace College Preparatory students almost two years ago. She told them someone with two years of post-high school education or training will earn between $350,000 and $500,000 more over a career than someone who stopped their education after earning a high school diploma or GED. The number leaps to $1 to $1.5 million for those with four or more years of college.

Those figures are two years old — I imagine the gap is wider now, especially since terms like “outsourcing” and “job automation” have entered the common phraseology. The unfortunate truth is that as we move further into the technology age, there will only be two types of jobs available in America — those for skilled, trained workers and those we haven’t yet trained computers to do because the human labor is so cheap.

That’s not to say manual labor is a bad career — landscape designers make good money, so do building contractors and auto mechanics. But the days of getting a high school diploma and going straight into factory work as a widget maker are numbered if not essentially over already.

Many companies use resources like community colleges to train new hires for specific functions. Many students who complete two-year college degrees are finding themselves much more desirable to prospective employers than eager kids just a few years younger, even if the education means the company must pay a higher salary.

What bugs me the most about the federal government’s “No Child Left Behind” policy is the emphasis it places on formalized testing to measure a school district’s success. To me, the surest measure of a district’s success is tied to the two goals I listed earlier. The first measure is “How are our recent graduates performing in college.” The second, for those who eschew higher education, is “What is the employment rate of our recent graduates in career-track fields?”

If a district is sending kids out into The Real World only to have them drop out of college within a few semesters or find their diploma can’t get them a living wage, that is a failure. If a certain subgroup of students can’t perform well on a standardized test, that doesn’t tell us anything. The biggest problem for that school may be getting kids to fill in the little circles with the proper No. 2 pencil.

Since the main goal is getting high school kids ready for college, the secondary goals should follow — getting middle school kids ready for high school and getting elementary school kids ready for middle school. And, because the prospects for employment without a high school diploma or GED are practically abysmal, schools also should be concerned with ways to reduce dropout rates.

I don’t mean to disparage anyone who did not go to college. I know I was very fortunate to attend the college of my choice and graduate in four years. I have great respect for people who can do any job well, whether it be neurosurgery or welding. But today’s parents (and grandparents) must realize that the world is a different place than it was 30 and 60 years ago, not to mention all that’s changed in the last decade alone.

May of our local schools are on the right track, and this is not meant as an assault against any institution. I’m simply calling for an understanding of how things have changed and what we can do to ensure our students are positioned for future success in the best way possible.

Random ramblings

Well, the blog has been slow of late, but (no surprise) work has been busy.

In our off time, Kristie and I are pretty much busy keeping up with Jack. He's totally adorable and fun to be with, but it's hard to get too much time to yourself because he always wants someone to pay attention to him.

When we can we watch a bit of TV. Were this baseball season, I'd have plenty of thoughts about the Cubs. But spring training is still a few weeks away, and all I could write about is my hopes for the season, which should be pretty obvious by now.

Tonight is the last night for "Real World/Road Rules Challenge: Battle of the Sexes 2" on MTV, which is a little sad because we so look forward to it every Monday. I'm not sure why... but I can't get enough.

Tonight also is the third episode of "The Bachelorette." We've been taping this and watching it as free time allows, which is a much better way to view a show that wastes so much airtime teasing what's going to happen in five minutes. Just fast forward. Between all that and commercials, I think we can shave it down to 30 minutes.

If Kristie were here (she's at a music boosters meeting) we'd probably be watching "Extreme Makeover: Home Edition -- How'd They Do That." EMHO fills a nice Sunday night gap between "America's Funniest Videos" (my all-time favorite show, I think) and "Desperate Housewives," which is quickly becoming a modern classic.

That may seem like a lot of TV (especially combined with "Joey" on Thursday, only because we're both usually home that night, there's absolutely nothing else on and, well, I like Joey as a character), and we'll probably get sucked into "American Idol" as well, but you have to realize a few things.

One -- It's not smart to leave the house with Jack after about 4 p.m., lest you screw up his body clock for the night.

Two -- It isn't like we're hard core addicts here. If you have a baby in the house, you can only give a show your full attention when the baby is asleep. I have yet to see how this theory will play out when baseball season starts, but I do recall watching games last summer with only one eye and ear, so this may not be too different.

Three -- Seriously, have you been to Clinton? In January? Where are we gonna go? Once it warms up, we'll head to the park or walk around the block or any of that fun stuff. But now, we've got some wicked cabin fever, and there ain't no cure.

That said, I'm really happy with our life the way it is. I'd rather have Jack than pretty much anything else (like living in a big city or having a tremendously exciting job), so the small bad is definitely outweighed by the overwhelming good. I'm not sure how I got here when all I meant to do was write about the TV shows we watch, but these things happen. Deal with it.

Life with Baby

We may be winning the war against sleeping through the night.

On Saturday, Jack slept for an astounging 11 consecutive hours -- from about 8:25 p.m. to about 7:15 a.m., which left us not much time to get him ready before we had to leave for church, but we managed.

Kristie's cousins (and boyfriends) and mom and brother had come over to our house Saturday for a night of fun. Usually, the party is at Kristie's mom's house, but that means we have to leave by about 7:30 when Jack gets cranky. This time, everyone came over to our place (giving us a reason to power clean Saturday afternoon -- never a bad thing) and we were able to hang out until about 11:30.

Unfortunately, we spent most of the evening playing the dreadful "Phase 10" card game. If you've experienced it yourself, you know what I'm talking about. If not, spare yourself the misery.

Anyhow, Sunday night Jack went down about the same time, just before 8:30. He did need to be plugged and repositioned in his crib at about 2 a.m. (reminding me of the way old days when I'd do that a few times a night instead of feeding him) and remarkably stayed knocked out until Kristie went in to get him up for school (hers, not his).

Tonight I'm a bit worried since he went down at 6 p.m. If he sleeps 10 or 11 hours again, we're cool. If he gets up at 9:30, we're miserable.

Perhaps this has something to do with his teeth, which are slowly (very, very slowly) but surely coming in. Maybe it's just the fact that he's nine months old (today, actually, marks nine months of Jack -- hard to believe) and is physically able to handle this. Or maybe we just got lucky for two days.

I will say this: When your baby does not sleep through the night at all, and then all of a sudden he sleeps for 11 hours, you spend a good half of his sleep time wondering if he's still alive in there. So then you have to balance the checking on him with the strong desire not to roust him. I wonder how long this goes on.

Wise words

OK, the words aren't actually wise, but ESPN.com/San Francisco Chronicle columnist Ray Ratto dropped this wonderful phrase in a recent column about why he wants it to snow for this weekend's NFL championship games:

But guess how quickly all that analysis goes up in reefer smoke when the sky gets pissed. Do the words "Im-damn-mediately, Giggles" strike a responsive chord?

Not exactly sure why, but those two lines made my day. It's just nice to know a guy can get paid for writing like that.

Read the full piece here.

Life with Baby

We've been having lots of fun (sarcasm intended) on the sleeping front this week.

I think I already wrote about Sunday, which probably was the worst night of the week. But Monday wasn't all that much better. On Tuesday and Wednesday, Jack finally crashed around 10:30 p.m. He got up again at 2:30 a.m. Wednesday, but was still asleep this morning when Kristie had to leave for school at 7 a.m.

If we can just shift the crashing time up to 9 or 9:30 p.m., everything would be perfect. However, it's still pretty a much a guessing game each night, and it's getting less and less fun to play.

Baby Update

Just five days shy of the nine-month mark, Jack is finally showing the smallest sign of one tooth poking through his lower set of gums. Tomorrow could be a rough day.

Evan's link(s) of the week

■ Click here for an odd video of the guy who played Tatu on "Fantasy Island" singing in what appears to be very broken English. Not counting download time, this will kill about 115 seconds of your day.

■ Click here for a "South Park" blast from the past re: "The Tale of Lemmiwinks." Or something like that. I never really watched all that much "South Park." But I'm pretty sure this one's on the raunchy side.

■ Click here for a litany of bad rock band publicity photos, including comments on how lame they are. I issue a language warning, but sometimes you just can't let a few f-bombs get in the way of a good laugh.

Sucks to be this guy

MEMPHIS, Tenn. (AP) -- Defense attorney Leslie Ballin called it the "jury pool from hell." The group of prospective jurors was summoned to listen to a case of Tennessee trailer park violence. Right after jury selection began last week, one man got up and left, announcing, "I'm on morphine and I'm higher than a kite."

When the prosecutor asked if anyone had been convicted of a crime, a prospective juror said that he had been arrested and taken to a mental hospital after he almost shot his nephew. He said he was provoked because his nephew just would not come out from under the bed.

Another would-be juror said he had had alcohol problems and was arrested for soliciting sex from an undercover officer. "I should have known something was up," he said. "She had all her teeth."

Read the full account here.

Action Principles

Here's today's column. Next week's should be better, I hope.

CLINTON — Apparently, I am a person of influence.

So says my new buddy, Bill FitzPatrick, executive director of something called the American Success Institute. Actually, I’m not really a person of influence. But I do open the newsroom mail every once in a while, which is how I happened upon the letter from Bill.

It was politely addressed to “Dear Editor” and, in the very first sentence, explains that “as a person of influence,” the ASI wants to introduce me to the Action Principles (that’s a registered trademark, mind you) of this “non-profit, educational, publishing and philanthropic organization based in Natick, Mass.”

Just to drive the point home, Bill sent not one, but two copies of a 128-page book entitled “The Action Principles — Create a Life of Purpose, Passion, Prosperity and Peace.” A red bar on the cover says “Over 250,000 Copies,” but doesn’t indicate if that’s how many have been sold, printed or mailed without solicitation to unassuming columnists and other such journalists.

(A side note: The book’s back cover has a picture of a dude in some sort of karate robe with an ugly goatee and a freaky smile on his face. I hope this isn’t Bill, because I may have to rethink our newfound friendship.)

But Bill keeps stressing everything is free (although it says on the back cover the book costs $6), and directs me many times to www.success.org where I can read the principles in 18 languages. If Bill had the courtesy to call before sending the books, I could have explained to him that, as a full-time editor and parent of a very young child, I barely have time to read e-mail from my mom, let alone learn 17 new languages.

But, since Bill sent me this letter with his “best regards,” I thought I’d indulge him a bit. But I didn’t just take his word for it. What compelled me to delve into the text was the emotional testimonials on page 5, stirring words like “This book is great,” from Ed McMahon, or “Thoughtful and hard-hitting” from Olympic athlete Bill Rogers. Those words, along with the neat drawings of a dragon and a tiger on page 2, made this text a must-read for me.

But where to start? With 100 Action Principles to choose from, I selected 18, for no other reason than it was the 18th of January. Principle 18 is “Master Success.” It tells me “There is a master inside you. It is an ideal. It is you at your best. Keep working.”

It then lists 11 phrases, each beginning with the words “you are” and all reading like some demented fortune cookie. I’ll agree with the book that I am confident, inquisitive and ethical, but I’ll argue when it tells me I’m patient, reverent, organized, teachable, brave and daring.

So why am I telling you all this, other than that I thought you’d be tired of reading about the Cubs and how many times my son has hit his head on an end table this week? Because if I distribute 100 copies of the book, I get a copy of the book signed by my buddy Bill, an Action Principles poster and the companion Shaolin Master poster and a champions electronic newsletter, sent only to Action Principles Champions.

Of course, I’d have to pay $100 to get the 100 books to distribute. Since I don’t really need a Shaolin poster that essentially cost me $50, I’m only going to distribute the two free copies I got in the mail. First-come, first-serve, free to a good home. Send me an e-mail at the address below or call me at 242-7101.

If you’re lucky, I’ll pass along more useless junk from our mail, such as a newsletter from the Sun Prairie, Wis, Chamber of Commerce (Groundhog Capital of the World) or a leaflet from the National Garden Bureau proclaiming 2005 as the “Year of the Melon.”

My Action Principle right now is to clear my desk of this stuff that comes pouring in every day. And Bill, old friend, I hate to say this, but your book is at the top of my list.

A quick joke

The lady in the cubicle next to mine just made a dentist appointment. The time? 2:30. And if you don't get that, then obviously you don't share the same weird sense of humor I do.

New Pictures

I have about 43 new pictures on the ImageStation photo album, which can be accessed via the link on the right-hand column of this page (or, for the lazy, by clicking here).

I can't get the thing that posts pictures on the blog to work right now, so you'll just have to take my word that they're adorable. These go back to before Christmas and end about a week ago, which is a timeframe that's included a lot of changes for Jack.

He's now pretty much fully mobile. He crawls like a typical baby, only at warp speed. He's full-on hands and knees now, having abandoned the belly crawl (like a soldier going under barbed wire) except for use on hardwood floors, which are slippery.

He approaches everything with his mouth open and toungue hanging out, which accounts for the wet spots I have on my jeans right now, since he just pulled himself up on my leg and gummed me.

Still no teeth, but if you squint you can see a hint of white forming beneath his gums. You have to squint pretty damn hard, though, and he's about a week away from being nine months old.

What he lacks in teeth he makes up for in hair, with a complete mop top that's been cut only when he got something stuck in there, and then it was just a trim to get the goo out. His haiur gets lighter by the day, and I assume he'll look like a peroxide blond by his first birthday.

He stands on everything, and is particularly fond of two things in our living room. One is our coat closet door which has a full-length mirror on it. For some reason, he really enjoys licking the mirror. His other favorite is the TV. He likes to pull himself up on the entertainment center and slap at the TV. A wonderful trait.

Basically, he changes every day, learning new and different skills (read: ways to get in trouble). In fact, the only real constant in Jack's life is his inability to sleep through the night. Although last night, he did sleep from about 8:15 p.m. to 6:45 a.m., which is absolutely unheard of in his world. When we take him to the doctor for his nine-month check-up and shots, she's supposed to discuss sleep training with us. I don't look forward to that, but I do like the prospect of not getting up every night at least once between 11:30 p.m. and 3:15 a.m. just to pout four ounces of formula down his hole.

That's what I know for now. He decided to not nap any more than 30 minutes today until a four-hour doze from 4:30 to 8:30 p.m. (tragically interfering with our "Desperate Housewives" viewing, but I had the VCR set just in case). He then powered down about twice as much food as he needed and is now happily playing with his bead-maze thing, for which there is no better description. I've no idea how long he'll be up, but since Kristie has no school tomorrow, I may crash before he does (a change from Friday night, when Kristie was out a good hour before Jack).

The only other thing I have to add is that Pizza Hut's new BLT pizza is excellent. Not too much mayo, and a medium (pan-style) is a perfect meal for someone who didn't eat any lunch at all on a weekday. I knwo from experience after downing the whole darn pizza Friday evening.

Jack's just decided I'm done typing. So goodbye, then.

Evan's link(s) of the week

Once again, random stuff from the online world, courtesy of my friend Evan.

■ Click here for something called "Learn Disco." Evan's warning: Stay with it 'til the end. (Note: I had to delete the file name from the URL and then download it from the directory. Just an FYI. I also haven't seen it yet, so caveat emptor, or whatever. Also note this appears to be a quite huge file, so those of you without the benefit of a high-speed connection might want to just give up. I've got ghetto dial-up, but I also have time to kill. Or, more correctly, I can afford to let this download in the background while I try to keep my DVD collection out of Jack's mouth.)

■ Click here for a story on people who spend money for a service that blocks their drunk dials. And...

■ Click here for something that will be amusing to most people and interesting for people who know stuff about computer graphics. Or you'll just think it's weird. And you'll be right.

'You stole my thunder!'

I was so pissed yesterday when I learned I basically lost my column for this week. The following stinker is the result.

CLINTON — I’ve got good news and bad news.

The good news is that we’ll all be able to watch Cubs games this summer, thanks to the recent announcement that Mediacom has seen the proverbial light and decided to add Comcast SportsNet Chicago to our cable listings, dropping out the essentially useless Fox Sports Chicago.

The bad news is the announcement pretty much wiped out my plans for this week’s column. I was all set to skewer our cable provider for dragging its feet on this issue, to record phone conversations with customer service representatives (for quality control purposes, of course) and basically rile up a loyal army of Cubs fans to pepper Mediacom offices with calls and letters until we got our (my) way.

On the plus side, none of this is necessary because the switch will take place in February. Baseball fans tuning in to channel 40 come March and April may not even notice a difference. Though the Cubs, White Sox, Bulls and Blackhawks announced last summer their plans to end their agreement with Fox Sports Chicago, and made it official at the end of September, no news on the situation came out until this week.

Mediacom’s only saving graces have been that A — the Bulls are pretty awful (though apparently showing signs of improvement) and B — the entire NHL is on strike, so there haven’t been any Blackhawks games to watch. Of course, no one watched them last year when they did play, so perhaps that’s not a real issue.

In fact, the only thing I’ve really missed out on so far is Ryne Sandberg’s press conference last week after he was elected to the Hall of Fame. As long as the channel is in place for spring training (and it should be — Comcast should go online Feb. 7 with pitchers and catchers to report Feb. 16), I’ll be a happy camper.

That doesn’t give me my column back, though. I feel like Monica on “Friends.” She pioneered “You stole my thunder” after her engagement to Chandler was upstaged by Ross and Rachel kissing in the hallway and … what? Get a life? Yes, I’m working on that.

Anyhow, all is well in cable TV land. I’ll be able to teach Jack important things like the infield fly rule and how much we hate Sammy Sosa. Of course, what actually will happen is he’ll teach me how to follow a baseball game when all of my attention is focused on a screaming toddler.

But at least now I know for sure I’ll have the chance.

Wise Words

It will take a lot of links to make this post possible, but bear with me.

Remember back in July when I wrote about our annual trip to the Kalahari water park in the Wisconsin Dells? Well, if not, you can find that here, though it isn't all that exciting. The before-the-trip posts are more amusing.

Anyhow, Daily Herald columnist Burt Constable wrote a column about the exact same experience, including this gem, a philosophy I've held since our Dells honeymoon in 2002:

While losing 15 (OK, 30) pounds is high on many lists of New Year's resolutions, nothing makes you feel better about your body than a trip to a Wisconsin water park. An out-of-shape and overweight guy can come back from the concession stand carrying Dippin' Dots and nachos, and still placate himself by noting the 10-year-old boy behind him has bigger man breasts.

You can (and should) read the whole piece here.

And, I should report that I learned of this column (though I read the Herald regularly) at Eric Zorn's Notebook, where you also will find limited discourse on the nature of the word "blog" and if it should be replaced with something more professional-sounding.

Sosa saga

Right about here in Sunday's Tribune, columnist Mike Downey (a hit-and-miss writer who more often drops white pegs), pretty much sinks the battleship on the whole Sammy Sosa fiasco (or Sam-Me, as some of the guys at The Cub Reporter refer to him):

Who is responsible for this? A testy manager who can't get along with the superstar? No. A tight-fisted owner who can't afford to pay him? No. A turned-off public that has had its fill of an overpaid stud turned dud? Not really, because amid the boos, Sosa still elicits thousands of cheers.

No, this whole mess is Sosa's fault, no one else's.

Cheating (a corked bat), betraying (refusing to play a last game; leaving the park early), lying (claiming he didn't leave early), these are cardinal sins, and they have piled up. Telling the world you are too good to bat lower in the order is a selfish act; telling your manager that it's OK and then complaining about it is a dirty double-cross.

And they wonder why we don't want him anymore? Here's hoping the Mets fail to get Beltran (I'm not sure how they could, since they seem quite willing to overpay), then deal for Sosa in a drastic PR move. Remember -- pitchers and catchers report in less than two months.

How to get here from there

I learned a nifty litte trick this week from my friend Shannon, who runs Post-Schna-ulations, about ways to learn what search engine terms have not only brought this site up as a result but also caused people to click here.

I didn't have as many amusing responses as her blog did, but here are a few of my favorites, combing the Yahoo!, Google and MSN search engines:

■ litter sex baby cam
■ grow more facial hair
■ fluffy oversized timpani mallets
■ holland custard cake

Just thought you'd like to know.

Techno-follies

As indicated earlier, all thee Hollands have lovely colds this week. Fortunately, three snow days have kept mother and son home to recuperate while father trudges off to write about the three snow days.

Anyhow, the most humorous development from the whole malady has been that Kristie's voice is so altered she can't use the voice-recognition on her cell phone. I know it's not dying on a pirate ship due to scurvy, but it's still pretty amusing.

Evan's link(s) of the week

A slew of updates from Evan, just to kill some of your post-holiday time.

■ Here is an amusingly named Chinese restaurant.
■ Here is an amusingly named IKEA product. And...
■ Here is a handy map that helps you learn about the easiest way to identify what part of the country you come from.

More as Evan fills my inbox.

Helping out with New Year's resolutions

Sorry for the late posting of Wednesday's column. We're having a bit of winter weather here, plus all three of us have coolds. Much fun at the Holland household.

CLINTON — We asked online readers this week if they make New Year’s resolutions.

Overwhelmingly, but not surprisingly, respondents said no, they do not. Perhaps the New Year’s resolution is a lost art, gone the way of the wooly mammoth and telephone etiquette. Perhaps people decided they don’t want to start each new year with a set of unrealistic goals hanging over their heads.

Many of us have enough to worry about with credit card bills from holiday shopping, we don’t need “I resolve to fit in a size 3 dress by Memorial Day” looming in the background. And if you don’t think I’d look good in a size 3 dress, well, you’re absolutely right. So let’s move on.

In order to make New Year’s resolutions work, they ought to be rather simple. Mine are always attainable. For example, this year I’ve resolved not to play point guard for the Utah Jazz. Since I’m so confident in meeting that goal, I’ve also resolved not to take up sniffing glue. We’re less than a week into 2005, but I have a hunch I’ll still be on the right side of the fence come December.

With me all taken care of, and a wee bit of free time, I’ve decided I’ll go ahead and offer up resolutions for other people.

Remember: It’s always more fun telling someone else what to do than actually getting off your own butt and making something happen.

Chicago Cubs General Manager Jim Hendry should resolve to rid the Cubs of right-fielder Sam-Me Sosa at all costs. Ideally, he would be replaced by the itinerant Carlos Beltran, but really, I’d be happy with just about anyone else. The short list includes guys like Beltran and erstwhile White Sox right-fielder Magglio Ordoñez, but I wouldn’t mind seeing Keith Moreland or Manny Trillo hauled out of retirement.

Hollywood filmmakers should resolve to come up with an original idea. After trotting out a string of God-awful sequels (“Bridget Jones’ Diary: The Edge of Reason”); remakes (“The Texas Chainsaw Massacre”); big-screen send-ups of old TV shows (“Starsky and Hutch,” “Fat Albert”), it seems the only things worth seeing anymore, besides Pixar’s animated films, are adaptations of books, like the “Lord of the Rings” trilogy or the “Harry Potter” films. And with those, some other author has already done the heavy lifting of crafting a plot, so all the studio is in charge of is casting and computer graphics.

Along those lines, television executives should resolve to scrap just about everything and start over. Aside from sports, “Trading Spaces” and “Pimp My Ride,” I haven’t much use for anything on TV that isn’t a re-run. And if you’re wondering why “Trading Spaces” made the short list, remember that I’m married and that marriage is about compromise. Kristie thinks the Cubs should have kept Matt Clement, I think Hildi’s room designs are self-serving and impractical.

My kid should resolve to stop banging his head on everything. I swear, he won’t be happy until he has a little baby concussion. He just scoots around the living room floor, looking for something, no — anything he can pull himself up on. Even when you keep two eyes and two hands on him, he still finds a way to pinch his finger or bonk his noggin on something. He even hit his head on a Christmas present. But, undeterred, he keeps plowing along. Kristie thinks he won’t be content until he learns how to walk. I think he’s trying to end up in traction.

And all of us, myself included, ought to resolve to work hard at getting along with each other. We all have the right to disagree on matters of opinion, but everyone would be much happier if we kept things civil. This goes for everything from personal politics to taste in music.

I never expect everything to go smoothly. But I do plan on being me, for better or worse, for as long as I can. You won’t find me in the NBA or hooked on stimulants, but you’ll still see me every Wednesday, warts and all.

Sandberg smorgasboard

Indulge me, if you will, in a few links to all things Ryne. You'll have to excuse my exuberance, but when your all-time favorite player makes it to the Hall of Fame, you tend to get a little excited.

From Paul Sullivan at the Chicago Tribune:

Sandberg was considered a shoo-in for the Hall when he retired for good after the 1997 season. He hit 277 of his lifetime 282 home runs as a second baseman, making him the career leader at his position. He since has been surpassed by Jeff Kent.

But Sandberg's calling card was his sterling defense, which helped make him a perennial All-Star and Gold Glove winner.

His .989 fielding percentage is the highest of any second baseman. He also holds major-league records for consecutive error-free games in a season (90 straight in 1989) and over two seasons (123 games in 1989-90).

"Defense had everything to do with me getting into the Hall of Fame," Sandberg said. "My defense was what helped me break into the major leagues when I did. I earned an everyday job at age 22 as the starting third baseman. I started out 0-for-30 or 1-for-31, but my defense was solid and they kept me in the lineup.

"I always took a lot pride in defense. Winning that first Gold Glove in 1983 set the tone. That was the level I wanted to maintain." ...more

From a Tribune editorial:

Win or lose, Sandberg always sparkled--on and off the diamond. He was never a prima donna, was never one to make a habit of tossing a bat or storming off the field. He was, quite simply, a consummate professional. ...more

From the Trib's Mike Downey:

He simply played the game.

Played it as it was meant to be played—with dedication and determination and a highly becoming modesty. With a textbook skill that involved blocking a ground ball with your body to keep it in front of you or taking a pitch even when a coach has given you a green light, arts lost on too many of today's strategically impaired stars.

Nondescript in style, Sandberg was a ballplayer's ballplayer, the kind to whom a Carl Yastrzemski or a Cal Ripken Jr. or a Tony Gwynn could relate, a workman punching a clock, putting in a solid eight-hour shift and going home without causing his employers a single minute's distress.

Like those honorable men, Sandberg also sided with one team, one town for most of his days in uniform. Doubtless he could have improved his odds of earning a diamond ring by defecting to another organization early in his career, but in the end, this was a true-blue Cub through and through. ...more

From ESPN.com's Jayson Stark:

A mere two years ago, Sandberg wasn't even collecting 50 percent of the vote. But for some reason, nearly 150 new voters have piled on board his bandwagon since then. So he's finally in. But boy, is it absurd that it took this long. ... By any measure, he was the dominant second baseman of his era -- in the batter's box and in the leathercraft division. And that's the veritable definition of a Hall of Famer. Isn't it? ...more

From the Trib's Chris Kuc, a rundown of Ryno's career highlights:

June 24, 1984: In what is now known as "The Sandberg Game," he goes 5-for-6 with two homers and seven RBIs in the Cubs' 12-11 victory over the Cardinals in 11 innings.

Sandberg ties the game in the bottom of the ninth with a homer off Cardinals closer Bruce Sutter. In the 10th, Sandberg homers again off the reliever.

"I'm in a state of shock," Sandberg says afterward. "I don't even know what day it is. I was going up there thinking about pulling the ball against Sutter. I wasn't even thinking about hitting one out."

Sandberg had been 1-for-10 lifetime against Sutter. ...more

The Daily Herald's Barry Rozner:

Sandberg is officially what we’ve all known for a long time: He is a Hall of Famer.

He got there by defeating complacency, by refusing its temptation and with a silent fire few understood.

Even Tuesday, on one of the greatest days of his life, Sandberg refused to travel off the road of humility that led him to immortality.

"I don’t know what it feels like to be considered among the greatest who ever lived and I don’t know if I ever will," Sandberg said, phoning from his cell phone as he scurried for the airport and a flight to Chicago. "I have too much respect for the game and for the players who played it before me to think anything like that." ...more

The Sun-Times' Rick Telander:

Sourpuss critics now say he didn't fly around enough, didn't have the range, so naturally he wouldn't get many errors.

But why should a ballet dancer dive all over the place and get filthy with grass and dirt stains when a graceful, sweeping reach could cleanly do the trick?

Why should Michael Jordan play like Muggsy Bogues? ...more

From Kirk Wessler of the Peoria Journal-Star:

Even the best second baseman of the 1980s, one of the three or four best to play the position in the last 50 years, was not a first-ballot inductee. Sandberg, it was announced Tuesday, was elected to the Hall of Fame in his third year of eligibility. I'm sure he'd tell you the wait was worthwhile.

Halls of fame should be about greatness. Not about very-goodness and never about good ol' boys and girls. If a little time is required to be sure of that greatness, good. ...more

From Derek Smart at The Cub Reporter:

I hesitate to use the phrase “everyman” - besides being hackneyed, it’s a stunningly inappropriate description of a man whose skills were elite among the elite. “Everyman” doesn’t win the MVP at 24. “Everyman” doesn’t win 9 Gold Gloves. “Everyman” isn’t named to 10 consecutive All-Star teams. He may have looked like a regular guy, he may have lacked superstar charisma, he may have been uncomfortable with his fame, but he was not everyman. He was special. ...more

From Jim Molony of MLB.com:

For those of us who can remember when offenses didn't dominate the game as they do today, when complete players who could beat you with the bat as well as the glove were precious commodities who often turned the tide in one-run games, Sandberg stood tall.

That he was the whole package and also played second base made Sandberg something extraordinary. The typical second baseman was defense first, whatever offense he could muster was often a bonus and power was a rarity. True sluggers were the province of corner infielders or outfielders, and the occasional catcher. ...more

From Carrie Muskat of Cubs.com:

"He is what you see," Sandberg's former teammate and current Cubs coach Gary Matthews once said. "He thrives on winning. He thrives on having fun when he plays the game. He was really consistent and really a clutch ballplayer during the years we were together. He played unselfishly. The main thing is that he was happy to play."

For Sandberg, the call to the Hall is joyous but it also provides him with a sense of closure on a splendid career.

"One of my goals for 20 years was to play in a World Series and win a World Series," said Sandberg. "Unfortunately, it didn't happen for me in Chicago. But [Tuesday] put the exclamation point and diminished that frustration I had for so many years.

"I'd call it some type of closure and tremendous satisfaction." ...more

Good enough for you? Just wait until induction weekend...

Life with Baby

I'll address this a little bit in tomorrow's column, but these are very busy times for two young parents.

Jack seems hell-bent on hurting himself in every way possible. I know he's just trying to learn how to walk, but the kid is pulling himself up on just about everything, whether it can support his weight or not. Usually it's just things like end tables or his toybox (something of a manageable height he can grab and pull on), but last night he managed to get from his butt to his feet using only a closet door with nothing to grab on to. I'm still not sure how he managed to pull that off.


He's crawling everywhere, too, of course. Now that we have all of the Christmas stuff taken down from the living room (and all of the exceedingly dangerous-to-babies stuff whisked away to other rooms), Jack's waking hours consist of playing with a toy (and by playing, I mean either knocking over, shaking or chewing on it, sometimes all three), then getting bored, fixing his eye on something and crawling over AFAP. He then pulls himself up to his standing position, surveys the situation and tries to decide whether or not this is the time he can stand on his own power.

Sometimes he ponders shuffling along, much like someone standing on the ledge of a building. Usually, he has about as much success as I did when I tried to fix my shutter by standing on a window ledge (click here for more on that lovely topic), but he usually doesn't have far to fall. Sometimes he chooses to return to his butt and then moves on to a toy before repeating the entire process.

The whole experience is peppered with a bit of variety, such as when he decides to hurt his finger by getting it caught in a drawer, when he bonks his head crawling through a doorway because he doesn't recognize how wide his own body is or when he simply forgets what he's doing and faceplants. The other day he pulled Kristie's purse off of his toybox and onto his head. Don't ask me why the purse was up there in the first place... we're trying to get better at that.

Anyhow, he pretty much goes from insanely happy (he's very proud of his standing abilities) to horribly upset (falling on your head all the time starts to hurt after a while) without a lot in between. His other two moods are hungry and sleepy, though they often can be indistinguishable (and are sometimes the same thing).

So that's what I know for now. I'll write more when I know more, and I hope to keep at least a half a step ahead of the baby.

He's In!!!

Ryne Sandberg is in the Hall of Fame. Better late than never (ask Ron Santo in a few weeks). Read all about it here.

NEW YORK (AP) -- Wade Boggs was overwhelmingly elected to the Hall of Fame in his first year of eligibility Tuesday, and Ryne Sandberg made it with just six votes to spare on his third try.

Boggs, a five-time American League batting champion for the Boston Red Sox, was selected by 474 of the record 516 voters who are 10-year members of the Baseball Writers' Association of America.

The 91.86 percent of ballots he received was the 19th-highest percentage in Hall history, and he became the 41st player elected on his first chance.

Sandberg, the 1984 National League MVP for the Chicago Cubs, was picked by 393 voters. He appeared on 76.2 percent of ballots, just above the 75 percent cutoff (387). Sandberg received 49.2 percent of votes in 2003 and got 61.1 percent last year, falling 71 votes short.