| | | The Water Cooler is nothing if not a sanctuary, a refuge from the tumult of an XFL-laden world, a safe home for wayward sports souls.
|  | | Just 12 games into the season, A-Rod's Rangers (7-6) are 2½ back of the Mariners (9-3). |
Which is why I fully expected to see A-Rod chilling at the Sparkletts bottle on Monday morning, seeking shelter. What I didn't fully expect -- but should
have -- was to see him thumbing through a Sharper Image catalog, deciding if he wanted the mink-lined La-Z-Boy that gives you a foot rub ($3,500) or the cashmere waterbed sheets ($5,500).
"Alexander, my man," I said, turning the corner under the fluorescents. "Knew I'd see you here."
"Murph, you gotta help me," Rodriguez said, setting aside the catalog, but first dog-earing a page that featured a bidet that used water from Lourdes ($6,100). "They're going to skin me alive, bro!"
I knew the score. A-Rod's Texas Rangers are due in Seattle on Monday night. I had wheeled my Yugo past the lynch mob that was forming on the streets. Though we
were thousands of miles from Safeco, the Maniac Mariner fans had sniffed out the presence of young Alex at The Cooler, no doubt following the sweet smell
of baking dough from his wallet.
I was impressed by the group's wherewithal. They had all the trappings of an outstanding mob: Torches ablaze, using the old-fashioned gasoline-soaked method; a cage ready to capture and parade the All-Star shortstop; and a few looney tunes stirring a hot tub of tar, with another guy in an Ichiro jersey carrying a sackful of feathers. They even dug and filled with water a moat outside my office building, just for effect.These guys had done some serious prep work.
"So, what's the deal, you afraid to go back and face the old fans?" I asked. "Afraid to face the music, which used to be grunge? To realize you turned your back on the scrappiest little National League-styled team in the AL West and went to a team whose staff ERA looks like Kurt Warner's average yards per pass? Listen, A-Bomb. You signed the deal. You got what you wanted. Now the M's are hot, their bullpen is ready to throw snow-peas at you, and I don't like your chances.
"Particularly getting past those cats with the hot tar and feathers."
"But, dude," A-Rod pleaded, "you think I'm scared? You see the numbers I hung on the A's this weekend? Four bombs in a three-game sweep? Thirteen ribs over
the weekend? I'm ready for the heat, Murph!"
"Then why are you in here wearing that funny nose and glasses, reading that Sharper Image catalog, when you should be out taking BP at Safeco?" I asked, noting over A-Rod's shoulder one of those inflatable neck things that helps you sleep ($25), perfect for my cubicle.
" 'Cause, man," A-Rod sniffed, "those guys have torches and things! They even built a moat! I haven't seen one of those since 'Braveheart.' dude!"
"Rest easy, Alex," I said. "You win in the long run, bro. You've got a quarter-bill in your pocket and more game than anybody's got a right to. Plus, by sequestering yourself in here? Why, you get to hear my Weekend List of Five, baby."
"Anything but the guy with the cage, Murph!" A-Rod said.
"Fine," I said, "here goes...
1. Feed me a Twinkie
|  | | Eric Milton and the Twins' young pitching staff have been baseball's most pleasant surprise. |
Long being the proponent of no salary cap in baseball, long understanding that any pissing, moaning or whining about the uneven competitive structure
of baseball is pissing, moaning and whining that does not understand the history of the game -- namely, that it's always been this way and that your so-called Billy Crystalish 'Golden Age' of ball was just another name for total and utter Yankee dominance -- we break out a mid-April standing O for Tom Kelly and the battlin' Minnesota Twins.
The Twins' 9-2 start might look illusory, but if you're throwing Radke, Milton, Redman and Mays every four days, you've got a shot to be on the radar come August. Believe it, baby. Get into speedy Cristian Guzman. Go buy your Jacque Jones gamer. Trade for Matt Lawton in your fantasy league. And most of all, head to the Metrodome -- plenty of dynamite seats available!
2. That golf tournament
Granted, any tourney a week after Tiger's Coronation is the worst kind of hangover. We're talking the golf equivalent of a desultory Tuesday night in May at the Metrodome with the skanky Minnesota Twins --- errrr, check that! -- a desultory Tuesday night in May with the interminable NBA playoffs meandering along toward nothingness.
I mean, a week after golf history, hell, sports history, the Tour should have just canceled matters and spent a week rehashing your favorite Tiger memory. ('Mine's the tee shot on 18!' 'Mine's the 8-iron stoney on 11!' 'Mine's the power-to-the-people fist on the 18th green!') Instead, they played, and what we got was what
we deserved -- Vijay hanging a Sunday 74 with the third-round lead. Guys spraying balls all over Kiawah Island. A final twosome of Singh and Jose Coceres
chopping it up so badly, CBS funnyman David Feherty said 'The final group is playing like a fourth-grade orchestra.'
And the beauty of it is, we get to come back for more on Monday, as Coceres, the Argentinean whose countenance calls to mind that of a sad, tragic clown, and Mayfair -- whose look we won't comment on -- battle it out in the early morning playoff. Fitting.
3. PNC Park. Period
|  | | Pittsburgh's PNC Park might be the most picturesque stadium in the majors. |
Uh, by the way, just wanted to riff for a moment on the Pirates' new yard. I am a season-ticket holder at Pacific Bell Park, and would challenge any man
to a duel with muskets who dared speak ill of what was unquestionably baseball's finest building. Then I caught a highlight from PNC Park. I was
freaking speechless. As my fellow season-ticket holder said after seeing the dazzling scenery off the Allegheny, with a trace of sad bemusement, 'We're
No. 2! We're No. 2!'
4. The NBA playoffs are almost here
Wait. Can't we delay them? I really don't feel like the season has taken shape yet. Let's let the young men play ball, man! Let them show us what the arc of a season should be like, not some, sad, abbreviated stage play. Plus, I have ducats to the Warriors-Grizzlies tilt this week and really, sports theatre so fine shouldn't carry with it the sad baggage of being a final chance to see such drama. I have spoken.
5. The NHL playoffs are here
I'd be better off riffing on those ping-pong highlights I saw on Fox Sports World the other night at an Irish pub. Hockey? For the love of Les Habs, man, I'm a California kid all the way. So here's my rule for Hockey, 2001: Look at the matchups. Root against the Sun Belt team.
That said, I raise a Molson to the chances of the Red Wings (over hockey-mad L.A.), the Oilers (over hockey-mad Dallas), the Blues (over hockey-mad San Jose), and the Devils (over hockey-mad Carolina). Root for the city with ice on the sidewalk, man!"
Brian Murphy of the San Francisco Chronicle writes the "Monday Morning Water Cooler" every week for Page 2. Send this story to a friend | Most sent stories
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