Beckett's Baseball Guide At times, I think about things.

I'd like to say everybody does, but I'm just not that optimistic about humanity these days.

I think about war, peace, the designated hitter, if I should've made that phonecall, written that e-mail, or packed that bag.

I think in "what if's." Sure, that practice can be maddening at best, futile at worst as there is nothing - NOT ONE THING - a soul can do about things that are done and beyond their control.
But what if, 42 years ago in Dallas, John Fitzgerald Kennedy was NOT assassinated? How much different would the world be today?

There would have almost certainly been two terms with JFK in the White House, potentially eliminating the LBJ presidency...potentially eliminating the Nixon presidency. Potentially...oh, well, you get the point. There might not be enough room in cyberspace to get all those scenarios down.

But one thing is for certain: the solutions of "what if's" are not the point of the exercise. It is the exercise of thinking in itself. Or, if I may be so bold: Some men see things as they are and say why. I dream things that never were and say why not.
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Man, Tom E. Curran and John Tomase put forth two GREAT day-two articles about Steve Belichick. Don't miss them.
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Ok, Josh Beckett is a Red Sox. I'm marginally happy. Certainly better than I was last night, where I thought there was this big conspiracy against Theo.

But I'm over that. I'm ok with trading the kids - not to be confused with "Da Kidds" - so, welcome, Josh Beckett.

I know that he whooped up on the Yankees in game six of the 2003 World Series. I remember this despite inhaling a 12-pack of Sam Adams Holiday Ale.

I also remember him not living up to the hype of becoming the next great right handed pitcher...the next Roger Clemens. Then again, since Roger is still the current Roger, it's a bit premature.

Back to Beckett...I doubly remember him dating Alyssa Milano, too. Or something like that. She's the Tara Reid of pitchers, the Winona Rider of guitar players. But I'm getting off track here.

This was a deal involving a guy with lots of potential and some actuality, plus a guy who's prolly seen his better days...for a young phenom that plays a position that lots of others in the organization play, and two potentially good pitchers.

Ok, let's review. If Hanley Ramirez were THAT good, then the Red Sox would have simply signed a cheap stop-gap at shortstop last year, instead of investing four years and 40 million in Edgah. If he was that good, or that ready, they'd have switched his position, made him say 'wickid" a lot, whatever. He is good. He will probably be very good. But the grand scheme of
things, a 25-year old good pitcher is more valuable than a 21-year old maybe good shortstop.

As for Sanchez and Delgado - the other guys in the deal - I dunno.

It's not Pavano and Armas Jr. for Pedro back in 1997, but, ceteris parabis (yes, I was an economics major in college), it's the 2005 equivalent.

I just hope they can spin Lowell off for JC Romero or Carlos Silva. Then I'll pop open a few more Sam Winter's and reminisce.
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For a more mainstream - ants-in-the-pants if you will - account, read Bill Simmons' thoughts on the trade.

It was a good piece. Entertaining. A throwback, if you must. Check it out.
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And another as another good friend and loyal reader pointed out, "the Sox don't even have a GM and they're still making blockbuster trades happen."

Maybe the Yankees can trade for Ken Griffey, Adam Dunn, Gorman Thomas, and Rob Deer. You know, just so they have a little more offense.
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Two things I love about college basketball:

1. I get paid to watch it.

2. Bill Raftery's "manaman!" call.

(ok, there are more than two things I love about college basketball. There are actually more than 200 things. But in an attempt to summarize and stay on track, I'll condense it to a few topics...)

2b. The Maui Classic and D-II Chaminade annually tossing a few monkeywrenches in the direction of the high-majors. (whoops, I'd better be careful, seeing as how I'm a high-major now...ah, what the heck, I still have time to have a latte and talk shampoo at General Mitchell International Field with the squad that will be getting the pub around January as the sleeper
squad...but I digress)

Anyway, the Silver Swords always give some coach, with a shoe contract and a TV show, 40 minutes of agita. Today, down two to Maryland at the half, is yet another instance.

2c. Watching West Virginia play. Ok, so I really need to be careful because on Jan. 14, I have to renounce that statement.

But watching Coach Beilein's offense and defense, watching them move the ball, be patient, and always know that at any point during a 35-second span, they can get a good shot off...and then on defense...spacing, switching, denying, blocking out...they're all fundamentals. God, they're all fun to watch.

Among the many highlights of Sydney, Australia this past April, was watching the Mountaineers make it into the Elite 8...and then come a few possessions short of the Final Four...

Add the fact that WVU has a mascot that carries live ammunition and Hendricken standout guard Joe Mazzula in 06-07, c'mon...it's gold, Jerry! GOLD!

(or Warriors... crap, make that Golden Eagles...or, um, hell, now I'm digging a hole.)

One.  ¶ 4:15 PM