I've Got Nothing...

Well, nothing I feel like expanding on right now. There are lots of things going on - like the fact that we need a new car after last week, but thankfully everybody is fine. But there's also lots going on in my brain. Nothing new there, of course. I guess when the time is right, and if you'll indulge me, perhaps I can try to explain. Then again, maybe I won't From day one, this blog has been about whatever is on my mind, and that often has led me to turn into a pseudo-journal. That is, it's often been very personal without getting too personal. I'm trying to turn the pages and new leaves, and all that jazz. I'm trying to find my happy place.

Anyway, Happy Fat Tuesday. Jambalaya, Gumbo, and King Cakes for everyone. I was at a Mardi Gras party tonight and the women all kept their shirts on. For that, I'm fairly thankful. You'll have to trust me on this one.

Memo to Bernie Williams: it's over. You look like a baby. Stop...now. It's a business, and while you've been a wonderful employee, explain to me why the Yankees should GUARANTEE you a roster spot. If you could knock one of the first basemen out, then I'd love to have you back. If you choose to go nowhere else, look at it this way: you'll have a "day" and they'll likely retire your number. I'll go on record as saying that I don't think you should have your number retired, but the Yankees and I have long disagreed on that subject. Reggie? Ron Guidry (who was a favorite of mine, but come on)? Billy Martin? Heck, even though 21 hasn't been reissued, I wouldn't retire it for Paulie O'Neill, but I'm tough that way.

I don't get those who think that Brian Cashman shouldn't run to the great Mariano with a black check. Two words: Greatest Ever. Three more: Still the best. Pay him, or watch him go to Boston next year. Ouch.

Derek and A-Rod: please shut up. Just play baseball and win a championship. I don't care who spent how many nights at whose house. This is a simple game. You hit the ball, you catch the ball. Sometimes you win...sometimes you lose. ("Bull Durham") Otherwise you look like a kinder, gentler "Bronx Zoo" without Sparky Lyle sitting naked on birthday cakes. Incidentally those Yankees won championships.

There, my work here is done for the night.