One Cup of Leaded, Please

• In attempting to make sense of the latest major development in baseball's steroids scandal, I'm finding myself inclined to quote one of the great wisemen of modern cinema, Owen Wilson's sublime Hansel from the film Zoolander: "The results are in amigo. What's left to ponder?" Which is to say, aside from some extremely juicy tidbits and some tantalizingly redacted names contained in this affidavit, the facts are still the same: Baseball players have used and continue to use drugs. And they seem to like human growth hormone an awful lot. No grand revelations there. The only difference as I see it is now we have more ammunition than we had before, thanks to Jason Grimsley's cooperation with authorities. My favorite piece of information to come squirting out of this proverbial syringe is that until recently, Major League clubhouses had pots of coffee labeled "leaded" and "unleaded," to differentiate which coffee contained amphetamines and which didn't. All I can say to that is, wow. Isn't regular coffee strong enough for most people? Just today I downed a can of Coke at lunch (something I admittedly try to avoid doing every day) and I became legitimately wound up. So I guess my main question is, what does this "leaded coffee" feel like, and -- kids, can you earmuff it for me -- where can I get some? (Research purposes only, of course.)

• Must admit, I find Rick Sutcliffe's behavior on air to be generally somewhat irritating (particularly in Monday night's Red Sox-Yankees game -- please forgive the shameless self promotion with that link), but in a recent random foray onto Youtube I came across a moment in which Sut displays a more endearing side. And by "endearing," I do mean "hopelessly intoxicated." This clip is audio only, but definitely worth a listen.

• I don't know about you, but I was stunned to hear that after much speculation that they would be taken in the Major League draft, New York baseball icons Jeffrey Maier and Danny Almonte were not selected after all. Just a mind-boggling turn of events. Apparently, as far as I can tell, all that talk of these two notorious New Yorkers being drafted was an extremely isolated incident in which the always careful and rarely overboard New York media went just a bit too far. Word has it that after not being drafted Maier and Almonte will return to being frozen in time until we next decide it's relevant to talk about them.
  

• In yet another embarassing ploy for attention from the animal world, a seagull flew in front of a pitched ball during a minor league baseball game on Sunday. Seriously, seagulls -- when are you going to realize that we are not going to encourage this absurd and pathetic behavior by replaying and watching your actions over and over again? Okay, so I'll admit it -- we love it when you do this. Well, I love it anyway. I can't speak for the good people over at PETA, but you have to think that even though they can't laugh at this in public because it would be awfully hypocritical, the moment no one's looking they're probably firing up the video and giggling uncontrollably. There are three things I particularly like about this latest seagull incident: 1) It recalls the time Randy Johnson absolutely nuked a bird who chose the wrong moment in time to cross Fastball Avenue; 2) if you watch the video clip closely (accessable through the above link), not only does the batter swing at the pitch, but the pitcher throws his hands up in utter disgust, as if to suggest that the seagull actually knew it was interfering with the game, like some bizarre streaker from the animal world; 3) at the end of the video, the newscaster reports that "a player carried the stunned seagull off the field and he flew away a short time later." Does anyone else hear that and immediately become skeptical, as though your parents had just told you that Rusty the dog has been sent away to live on the farm because he'll be happier there? Come on, we all know what really happened -- that seagull croaked.