Proper Protection is Advised

From the files of "Jesus, that sounds uncomfortable," it has come to light that Padres pitcher Chris Young is suffering from a severe case of I-don't-know-what-you-call-it-but- something-is-really-wrong-with-his-head (the result of his taking a line drive off the face from Albert Pujols on May 21). As Padres manager Bud Black told the San Diego Union Tribune,

"He can't taste his food. His sense of smell is not there...He'll probably have to have a septum procedure. At this point, the main focus is on the small crack in the skull. That has to close up so they can feel very comfortable about no infection getting in his brain."

That sounds terribly uncomfortable. And frankly, the way Pujols is lashing the baseball these days, it's probably a good idea to either a) sport a helmet on the mound (see photo above) or b) release your pitch and promptly hit the deck. Then again, that option leaves your kidneys and other vital organs dangerously exposed. File this under the very rare instance (the other being Greg Maddux peeing on teammates in the shower) that I'm actually quite happy to not be a Major Leaguer.

Please Pass the Spear

Sometimes you read things that make a very sick and crass part of you happy. Today, I saw this quote from Tigers manager Jim Leyland (speaking of Carlos Guillen) in the Detroit Free Press:

"He can hardly move -- he's got hemorrhoids so bad. He's been playing with hemorrhoids that probably need to be lanced. He probably shouldn't have been out there (third base on Monday)."

Why is this funny? Because butt injuries are funny. It's why we laughed earlier this year when we learned that Kaz Matsui had an anal fissure. It is also why we google image'd "anal fissure," and then promptly vomited.

Another reason this Guillen news is humorous is that it evokes the image of "lancing" ones hemorrhoids. Not sure about you, but for me this conjures the visual of Jim Leyland wielding a giant spear and jamming it at full speed into the buttocks of Carlos Guillen, sending his hemorrhoids one-by-one into an explosive mess of volcano-like rear-end discharge as Leyland cackles and dances and claps his hands in delight.

But maybe that's just me.

Signs of Life

One... two... three...

CLEAR

Wait a second -- I'm getting signs of a pulse here...

Please forgive the lack of posts lately. More to come soon. In the meantime, I'll tell you four things you may not have known about Denver, where I just spent the past four days:

1) The mile high air effect you so often hear about as pertains to sporting events is not a joke. I played basketball with other attendees of a wedding and you could feel the burn in your lungs almost instantaneously. I also hit a wiffleball approximately 700 feet.

2) Coors Field -- despite currently having next to no atmosphere on account of the Rockies being rotten -- is a pretty cool place to see a baseball game (tough to top a view of the Rocky Mountains from your seats);

3) Omar Minaya, in addition to having a slight managerial crisis on his hands, also is in possession of an orange suitcase (spotted him outside Coors Field on Friday night);

4) Jose Reyes, in addition to being in the midst of a somewhat disappointing season, also has at least one flamboyantly ugly white printed t-shirt (spotted him and Luis Castillo aimlessly wandering the streets of Denver on Saturday night).

You Got Change for a Hundred?

Ken Griffey Jr. recently repaid a $1,500 debt to teammate Josh Fogg by dropping 150,000 pennies in his locker.

To think that I feel guilty occasionally paying a delivery guy with $4 in quarters.

What Sort of Man Are You?

Are you the sort of man who could, if legally blind, and 78 years old, still somehow roll a perfect game down at the local lanes?

Because that's what 78-year-old Dale Davis (no relation to that Dale Davis), a.k.a. "The Hammer," did on Saturday night.

Short of Rick Ankiel, this guy may be the biggest pimp on the planet.

Rick Roll

I've often thought (and occasionally said) that Rick Ankiel had one of the most fascinating -- and these days, surprisingly satisfying -- pro sports careers of our time.

On Tuesday night, he added another chapter to his story, Roy Hobbs-style.

If you haven't seen these two throws, you best get your thumb out of your bunghole and take a look. This is pure filth.

It Putz the Lotion in the Basket

Here's the not remotely interesting fact of the day: Mariners closer J.J. Putz pronounces his last name "PUTS," as opposed to "PUTZ," as it appears (and as would be much, much better).

Another fact you might be interested in: I have absolutely nothing to write about right now.

I'll try to remedy that soon. In the meantime, I wish you a pleasant day.