Mister Faded Glory | misterfadedglory.com

Probably my last post for the year, and all it’s really going to do is direct you to my foxblog, but probably the final entry into that space. Read it here.

We’ll turn the page into 2006 here next week, with some resolutions (Well, one. Finish the damn novel.) or at least some promises to work on the design of my site, which I’ve remained completely clueless about for nearly three years now. But I’m not quitting, or fading into oblivion. Some would say blogging is dead — I’d like to think that the blogging fad of 2003 and 2004 merely thinned out the ranks to the hardcore. So, MFG is still here.

Final point — In my posting on Fox yesterday, I evaluated most of this year’s Hall of Fame class, including Andre Dawson. As Cubs fans, we were thrilled last year with Ryne Sandberg‘s deserved induction, and this year, I think Dawson should go, too. In fact, I could have quoted the same thing for Dawson as I said for Jim Rice:

Jim Rice – OK, Wade Boggs is in. Did anyone seriously watch the Red Sox in the mid-to-late-1980s and think, Well, Wade Boggs was their best player. No. End of discussion.

Same thing goes for Dawson. Because he had a great career until the end (Summed up nicely here by Phil Rogers, of all people.), but between 1987 and 1989, there is no way anyone watching the Cubs would think, Well, Ryne Sandberg is their best player. No way. Dawson dominated those years, and he was feared much more than the excellent Ryno. A great one-two punch, nonetheless.

And so that begs the question — if Boggs and Sandberg were such virtual locks in 2005 (Boggs on his first time, Ryno on his third), then how can Rice and Dawson be kept out? Boggs and Sandberg are HOFers — but they weren’t even the best players on their respective teams. It simply defies logic. Here’s to hoping they both are in this year.

Happy new year, I’d tell you all to be safe, but I will likely be stumbling into my hotel room at 3 a.m. in downtown Kansas City after a fight with a cabbie, so I’d prefer not to be hypocritical. See you on the flipside.

Not too much to ruminate on, save for the ongoing (shudder) Prior and Tejada trade talks. Fox Sports’ blog contest actually ends on Dec. 29 (also my wedding anniversary), so I will be back here fully after that. I doubt I stand a chance of winning, it seems one of the judges hopes to pick bloggers who sustain a presence in the Fox Sports Blogs community, and I haven’t the time to sort through a legion of sports bloggers. Believe me, it’s not lost on me that this contest was selected for the busiest professional and personal time of the year.

I’m as close to renouncing Cubs fandom as I’ve ever been. More later, after I compose myself. Sometime in 2007, likely.

Yes, mother, I have been blogging about the Colts.

Sunday.

Saturday.

Thursday.

It’s a curse. Who would hire me? Certainly not the Chicago Tribune, well, not now.

That’s from Ghostbusters, and it’s only partially relevant to this post, which is being crafted at nearly 1 a.m. my time — I can’t sleep, so I’m somewhat delirious.

I’ve got work on my mind, in particular, dealing with bidding out a contract tomorrow, which I hate doing. This is because I operate in the nefarious business world using a great deal of charm in tandem with honesty and competence. I never come across as fake or clueless, which are positives, and I schmooze pretty well, even though I abhor it.

However, –the only thing I hate worse than rejection is actually rejecting someone, in this case, a company with which I work very well. So I’ve got to balance the line between the interests of my superiors (Seriously, at a bank, these people think they are kings of the freakin’ world) and a competing small business, termed a “vendor.” And not the good kind that throw hot dogs. I agree, not good times. Anyway, it keeps me up, which keeps me working on the novel, which I suppose, may keep me out of the corporate world someday.

Anyway — the line! Back to it. Well, it’s used in a loose reference to my glowing praise of 24 — which I’m now being forced to retract. Yuck.

After the first season, I compared 24 cheerfully to a comic book. Perhaps similar to a Batman, or Spiderman — in which Jack Bauer is a tragic, sometimes anti-, hero. And, of course, the cliffhanger ending legitimized the character development and even the performances of the entire first season. (Except Dennis Hopper, whom you could see phoning it in). This prompted me to, uh, promptly rent Season 2.

Well, this is where it all falls apart. The first twelve episodes of Season 2 are very good, intense, brisk, and don’t cast the entire notion of versimilitude out the window. However, from then, all plots devolve into a cacophany, with seemingly every character behaving in bizarre manners in each situation — and in ways that you know no single fucking person on the face of the planet would be clueless enough to resort to. I’m so mad I’m dangling prepositions. By about episode 18, you want each character dead, and by the last episode, the entire experience has evolved from engrossment to exasperation, replete with scoffing — or even scolding — at each character’s lines. It can be fun, though, if you drink each time:

(a) Jack Bauer claims to a bystander, This is the only way I can help you. We’re counting on you.
(b) President Palmer forgives his batshit wife, in turn compromising his own career.
(c) A bad guy turns out to have yet another shady secret boss, further up the chain.
(d) Kim Bauer runs away from whatever situation she’s in and gets herself into terrible trouble with a sketchy man, making her situation even more ridiculous.
(e) Carlos Bernard grimaces.

But this is all described at length (and, actually, in a much funnier way) on TVWOP. In fact, TVWOP alone is what makes the show worthwhile — I think, now, I watch it just to best understand all parts of TVWOP’s recaps, inside jokes, and bewildered sarcasm. I’ve got to go, now, however. I promised myself I’d be in bed by 1:11:58, 1:11:59, 1:12….

Speculation swirled all year around this fellow, namely that Jim Hendry would become infatuated with him as the Cubs’ new right fielder. Post from an utterly bewildered moi found here.

Well, it’s official. Despite sportswriters’ speculative opinions to the contrary, the Cubs aren’t getting Miguel Tejada.

Over the course of last week, you’ve no doubt read about the Cubs attempting to piece together an offer for the all-world and perhaps disgruntled shortstop. You’ve read misguided Cubs fans wondering if Chicago could acquire him for Rich Hill, Corey Patterson, and Ronny Cedeno. (Seriously, why do Cub fans always assume others are eager to trade us their studs for their trash? I know I’m a broken record here, but, well, duh.)
You’ve probably even read Phil Rogers’ somewhat lucid column pushing for the Cubs to trade Z for Tejada. (Uh, no.)

Well, Tejada isn’t coming. Just as well, if I were the Orioles, I wouldn’t have traded him for anyone either. The Cubs would have had to give up one of their big four + Cedeno at minimum, and that would have just opened a hole elsewhere.

As is, Chicago still doesn’t have a right fielder. And Philly just traded Vicente Padilla to Texas. Um, Cubs, hello … You can still try to get Brad Wilkerson. Let’s pick up the phone here. If Texas is taking Padilla for pennies, what would they offer for Glendon Rusch and Todd Wellemeyer?

More on Tejada here, at my sister site.

Post is here, Colts are 13-0. Anything else before the beginning of 2006 is gravy.

All right, in a bizarre but entirely predictable twist, I’m pulling double-duty in a blogging contest on FoxSports. You can read all about the Colts’ impending tilt with Jacksonville right here.

Different name, not-so-different outlook, and soon to be overwhelmed with billions of comments from drunk college kids and mouth-breathing NFL fans. Stunningly, I even divulged my last name in a faux-witty bio. Hopefully I can hang.

By the way — it’s on Fox, so get ready for a post in ALL CAPITALS SOMETIME COMING SOON! IT’S LIKE REGULAR BLOGGING, BUT FASTER!!!

(See, this is why I need Mr. Faded Glory. To giiiiit it outta my system.)