Seven hours to go

First of all, congratulations to the Sixers for locking up a playoff spot. (I had hoped the Flyers would win and get in too - they could have clinched playoff spots on the same day for the second year in a row, wouldn't that have been something? Ah well, the Flyers will get in, barring some appalling series of wretched events.) Sixers, don't listen to the naysayers who urge you to lose on purpose to get a lottery pick; losing on purpose is the worst thing a sports team can do. It's why the Celtics will be my nemesis for the rest of eternity, the loathsome cheating villains. What would a lottery pick get you anyway? The #8 pick or something? Another year of rebuilding and trying to work a talented yet raw rookie into your system? I say get that #5 seed, beat the Hawks like the losers they are, and then figure out the second round when you get there.

I feel the need to reiterate: No one knows, so let's find out.

Meanwhile, I have little to say about the opening of the 2009 Phillies season, which begins in just about seven hours, other than the fact that I'm very excited and happy and optimistic. The Phils and I have been on quite an interesting journey since they got good a few years back, and it isn't ready to end just yet. They have the talent, they have the desire, they've got the whole city behind them, and they're the WFC, so if you're picking them to finish third or something, not that I'm naming names, Rob Neyer, well, we shall see won't we?

Last year I spent far too much of my time coming up with a Husker Du song to represent each player. This year, I decided to list the Opening Day roster alphabetically, and then use iTunes to just randomly assign a They Might Be Giants song to each of them. I have no idea what the point of this exercise was, other than to see if any of the titles would come out being even remotely relevant.

Joe Blanton: "See the Constellation"
Eric Bruntlett: "Love Is Eternity"
Miguel Cairo: "Lucky Ball and Chain"
Clay Condrey: "Letter/Not a Letter" (this is a pretty irritating song, sorry Clay)
Chris Coste: "Careful What You Pack"
Greg Dobbs: "I Can't Hide from My Mind"
Chad Durbin: "Even Numbers" (Durbin's uniform number is 37)
Scott Eyre: "Road Movie to Berlin"
Pedro Feliz: "Fingertips (What's That Blue Thing Doing Here?)"
Cole Hamels: "Dallas"
J.A. Happ: "Bastard Wants to Hit Me" (whoa! what?)
Ryan Howard: "Extra Savoir-Faire" (yes!!!)
Raul Ibanez: "Au Contraire"
Brad Lidge: "Heart of the Band" (this is a really terrible song)
Ryan Madson: "Fingertips (All Alone, All Alone, All by Myself)" (sorry Ryan)
Jamie Moyer: "Take Out the Trash" (?!?!)
Brett Myers: "Upside Down Frown" (hmm, maybe)
Chan Ho Park: "They'll Need a Crane"
Jimmy Rollins: "Fingertips (Who's That Standing by the Window?)"
Carlos Ruiz: "Anaheim" (will he be traded there, and replaced by Marson? Only iTunes knows for sure)
Matt Stairs: "Hovering Sombrero"
Jack Taschner: "We're the Replacements" (and indeed he is)
Chase Utley: "The End of the Tour" (good lord, I hope not)
Shane Victorino: "Toddler Hiway"
Jayson Werth: "Omaha"

Okay, that was an even bigger waste of time than I had expected. The off season and spring training was just way too long this year.

Time to play ball.

Go get 'em, champs.

My other observation about the World Baseball Classic is this: Baseball is simply not a sport that lends itself to the tournament format. The Major League Baseball season is perfect, because baseball is meant to unfold gradually over many months, during which a team finds itself. Players go through slumps and hot streaks, managers play around with lineups and rotations, the front office makes trades and waiver pickups and minor league callups; by September you know who your team is, and what it can do. That's the beauty of the sport, a beauty you won't find in a contrived tournament taking place over three weeks in March with a hastily-assembled roster of guys whose grandparents might have been born in Italy.

And now that I'm done trashing a thing that ended two weeks ago, it's time to concentrate on the more important things, that is, the impending home opener. I remain confident in this team, who I believe shall defend their title nobly.

By the way, I've taken to writing these entries in the early morning as a way to train myself to get up early and write, and it's been semi-successful so far. But there comes a moment when I really have to go get ready for work, even if I'm in the middle of a thought, and that time has arrived again. More tomorrow, unless I sleep in.

On Sunday, for the first time since April 8, 1981, and for only the second time in human history, the Phillies will take the field on Opening Day as defending World Series champions.

That sound you just heard was me flinging a chair across the room in excitement.

And now I'd like to apologize for using the very lame and tired "that sound you just heard" trope, which is second only to "there is no truth to the rumor that" on the list of incredibly bad, hacky, unfunny cliches used by terrible sportswriters.

Anyway, I hadn't thought about Opening Day or even the season much until very recently, because I've been busy with other things, following other sports, working, and so on, plus the Phillies are in the very interesting position of still being really good, so I haven't had to spend the offseason worrying about how terrible they're going to be. I'm quite confident that they aren't going to be terrible at all. Confidence is a wonderful, liberating thing, you should try it some time.

The lineup, I'm not worried about the lineup just yet. The starters look okay, especially Blanton - who knew? The bullpen should be solid. They have plenty of decent options for the bench. There you go, I just described a very good baseball team. The NL is up for grabs, and the AL is filed with overrated scumbags. One thing leads to another, and I get to take another day off for a parade, and buy another 8-disc World Series DVD box set. Accolades all around!

So, here are my problems with the World Baseball Classic:
1. In theory, I wouldn't mind rooting for the US team, but it's filled with guys like Chipper Jones and Kevin Youkilis and David Wright, men who I literally refuse to root for in any situation - I don't care that we were born on the same landmass within the same political divisions, it isn't going to happen.
2. The WBC uses the same idiotic, fake-baseball extra innings rules that they use in the Olympics, plus they have a "mercy rule". Mercy rule. What is this, Little League? If you're down 10-0, you take it like a man. Brush a guy back or something. Come on, South Africa, grow a set.
3. One other observation, but I have to take a shower and go to work. Back in a bit.