The Brady hunch

Brady Anderson is on the Hall of Fame ballot this year. This makes me feel incredibly old, although at the same time I feel a little surprised that he retired as late as 2002. He's one of those guys known for doing one thing - in Anderson's case, his 50-homer season of 1996 - so it sort of seems like he only played that one year and then vanished again. The season was a ridiculous anomaly for Anderson - he only had 210 career home runs in 15 seasons, meaning that nearly a quarter of his career total came in a single one of those. He also had a career SLG of .425, which is pretty low, even for a center fielder; in 1996, his SLG was .637, almost 150 points higher than in any other season.

The thing that gets me is that this data is always used to advance the "Brady Anderson did steroids in 1996" argument. Maybe he did and maybe he didn't, but if he did, I doubt it was the steroids that helped him. People who use fluke seasons like this to accuse people of drug use seem to forget that the history of baseball is pockmarked with similar cases, long before PEDs hit the scene.

Take, for example, Hack Wilson; his 191-RBI season in 1930 is still a record (and understandably so). Wilson hit 56 home runs that year; while this wasn't the leap that Anderson took, as Wilson had topped 30 in 1927, 1928, and 1929, it was still nearly 50% above his previous career high. Or how about Roger Maris, who hit 22 more home runs in 1961 than in any other season? And the single most analogous example is probably Davey Johnson, who hit 136 career home runs in 13 big-league seasons - and fully 43 of them in 1973. He only reached double figures four other times and never topped 18; at least Anderson had two other 20-HR seasons. I don't think anyone would argue Johnson was on steroids.

What's more, how does this even make sense? 1996 was two years before McGwire and Sosa - two guys pretty much universally assumed at this point to have been juicing in the late 90s - led their assault on history, so if steroids were capable of turning Anderson into a power hitter that quickly and effectively, why did he drop back off in 1997? Should we believe that he only used them for one year, and then quit for whatever reason even though he clearly could have made a good deal more money by staying on them? At any rate, I've never seen any evidence suggesting that steroids can turn singles hitters into home run hitters; maybe they can help turn doubles hitters into home run hitters, but Anderson didn't hit all that many doubles either. He hit for middling average (.256 career) and took a decent number of walks (a reasonable .362 career OBP). Also, while most suspected steroid users were speedsters who started hitting home runs and stopped stealing bases (like Sosa), Anderson still stole 21 bases in 1996, more than he stole the following year when he retreated to 18 homers. I also don't remember Anderson showing much physical evidence; certainly his head didn't blow up that I can recall.

So why is it that Anderson has to have used steroids? Only the number 50 is really suggestive of it, and Davey Johnson shows that it's perfectly possible to have a season like that before steroids even entered the game. Ultimately it doesn't matter; Anderson clearly isn't making the Hall of Fame, and once he's off the ballot he should be fully consigned to the dustbin of history. But at the risk of sounding like an apologist, I don't see why every post-1994 fluke season has to be steroid-based. It just doesn't seem likely that only a couple guys could actually make consistent use of them, while the bulk of users either didn't see a substantial increase or else turned into, say, Richard Hidalgo (15 in 1999, 44 in 2000, 19 in 2001). Sure, we risk being made fools of again if we're too credulous... but barring a real smoking gun, isn't it a lot more enjoyable that way?

Go west, Old Men

I saw my first movie in theaters in months, No Country for Old Men, since it was the Coen Brothers and since it had been almost universally raved about by critics. Turns out... it's not really all that good. At least I didn't think so. The one positive is that it's actually got me a bit excited about film criticism again, and I'll probably try to see some more movies in the upcoming month or two as work is on the slower side and film hits its peak season. Tomorrow I'm hoping to steal off to the River East after work to catch The Darjeeling Limited before it packs up and leaves town (it's down to one screening a day, at 5:15, which works out well if I can get out of work on time) and then perhaps I can make a similar pilgrimage for Michael Clayton on Thursday. Those were two of the only movies of the fall season that really had my eyebrows raised, so catching them before they leave theaters would be nice.

To which I'm sure you might say, "Why see them in the theater?" The fact is that, in spite of its obvious cost disadvantage, I enjoy seeing movies in the theater. It's just an experience that can't be matched by simple home viewing. The good news for me is that neither Darjeeling nor Clayton is likely to have many people in the theater so late in the run. While I like the theatrical experience, I like the people-free theatrical experience even more. So, I'm a misanthrope. What of it?

Anyway, the review for No Country for Old Men is here. I've actually been engaged in a fairly lively debate with some backers of the film on the Rotten Tomatoes boards (needless to say, they feel I "don't get it"), which is something else that hasn't happened for a couple years now.

Beard down, Chicago beard

Time for another before and after.

Before (11/5):



After (11/26):



The consensus at work seems to be that I look the most natural with the beard, and I do think it looks pretty decent, all told. I'm still not keeping it but I'm glad I'm not looking like a crazy person for a month.

The Ten Worst MVP Choices of the Past 25 Years

There's been a lot of talk about Jimmy Rollins' NL MVP win, with more stats-oriented people noting how it's kind of a joke that he won and traditionalists arguing that he was the best player on a playoff-bound team. With Rollins in mind, I decided to compile a list of what I thought were the ten worst choices for MVP in the past 25 years. Note: I rely a lot on the statistical measures WARP1 and VORP in this list, though I do also discuss the writers' inconsistencies on a year-to-year basis, explaining in some places how the vote didn't make sense even by more traditional measures.

10. 2006 NL: Ryan Howard
Barry Bonds won four consecutive MVP awards with insane numbers between 2001 and 2004, so perhaps after Albert Pujols finally broke through in 2005, the voters decided they wanted to show that no one was up to Bonds’ level by withholding a second consecutive award. Or perhaps they were swayed by the best storyline. Neither would surprise; either would be dumb. By VORP, which measures the number of runs a player contributed to his team above what a replacement player would have done, Pujols was the most valuable player in the league; he generated four more runs for the Cardinals than Howard did for the Phillies. He also had a higher batting average, on-base percentage, and slugging percentage, this latter in spite of the clear difference-maker in the voting, Howard’s 58 home runs. Pujols’ 11.8 WARP1, the number of wins he added to the team above a replacement player and which, unlike VORP, factors in defense, was the highest of his career to date; Howard, a below-average fielder at first, was worth three and a half fewer wins. The only categories in which Howard really prevailed were the major counting stats: home runs and RBI. The voters allowed themselves to be swayed by these gaudy numbers even though Howard did not make the playoffs and Pujols did. Howard was not a truly terrible choice for MVP, but he had no business defeating Pujols.

9. 2002 AL: Miguel Tejada
Alex Rodriguez has three MVP awards, but he should probably have more. Of course, “MVP” is usually defined by the voters as “best player on a playoff-bound team,” so perhaps it’s no surprise that Rodriguez was only recognized once (2003) prior to landing in New York. One of the more egregious screwjobs came in 2002, when the only player in baseball more valuable than Rodriguez was Barry Bonds and his 1.381 OPS. Rodriguez was second in baseball and first in the AL with a VORP of 86.4, and while Jim Thome was pretty much exactly as valuable offensively, Rodriguez had one of his best defensive years at shortstop, making him worth 11 wins over a replacement player, while Thome was a below-average first baseman, giving him a WARP1 of just 8.1. Of course, the Rangers lost 90 games – we can certainly argue over how much it was Rodriguez’s “fault” that the Rangers had lousy pitching during his years there, but the fact remains that the ’02 club had Chan Ho Park, Ismael Valdez and Dave Burba in the starting rotation, and Hideki Irabu closing games, and a team ERA of 5.15. Tejada’s Oakland team, meanwhile, won 103 games. It’s not surprising that the voters wanted to reward the best player on the team, and Tejada was that, even if he was only the third-most valuable shortstop in the AL (behind not just A-Rod but Nomar Garciaparra as well).

8. 1999 AL: Ivan Rodriguez
This one, though it pains me to admit it, was just a travesty. Derek Jeter was the most valuable offensive player in the American League by nearly twenty runs over the second-place Nomar Garciaparra, and was worth more than 9 wins above replacement. This remains Jeter’s best year by far: 219 hits, 24 homers, 102 RBI, 134 runs scored, a .349 batting average, .438 OBP, and .552 slugging, all still career highs. What’s more, he played on a team that won its division and he played in New York. So how did he not win? More importantly, how on earth did he finish a distant sixth in the voting? The answer must be that Rodriguez was a great defensive catcher; he was worth nearly as many wins as Jeter (8.9) despite being significantly less valuable offensively. Of course, he had better counting stats – 35 homers, 113 RBI – and he did hit .332. So he looked nearly as good on offense even though he actually wasn’t (Jeter’s extra 82 points of OBP have a way of doing that) and his superior defense was a good story (though the writers so rarely factor in defense that this reeks of inconsistency). Plus since Jeter’s team had won 114 games the previous year, the clear assumption was that he had a lot of help. And sure, he did, but that doesn’t, or anyway shouldn’t, diminish his individual value, though obviously it makes it tougher for writers to see it. Bernie Williams was a top-ten offensive player that year, but then so was Rafael Palmeiro in Texas. Palmeiro finished fifth in the voting, a spot ahead of Jeter. Two Indians teammates, the third division winner, tied for third place. The voters had no objection to the idea that you could have two really valuable guys on the same team. Yet it certainly seems like Jeter was hurt by the team he was on. (Fun fact about this year: Rodriguez didn’t even receive the most first-place votes; second-place finisher Pedro Martinez did. Rodriguez managed to win, I suspect because Martinez – as a pitcher – was left off a number of ballots entirely. Martinez actually had a WARP1 of 14.6 that year, meaning that it’s reasonable to argue he should have won. At any rate, Rodriguez was not a good choice.)

7. 2006 AL: Justin Morneau
As a casual Twins fan and Yankees hater, I was happy to see Morneau beat out Derek Jeter for the MVP in 2006, but the statistical fact of the matter is that he shouldn’t have. Morneau’s VORP of 52.0 was good for just 26^th in all of baseball and just 13^th in the AL; Jeter led the AL at 80.5, a pretty significant difference. Indeed, VORP suggests that Morneau wasn’t even the most valuable player on his own team, as Joe Mauer was fifth in the AL at 66.9. Morneau played good defense at a less valuable defensive position; his WARP1 was 7.8. Mauer, as a good defensive catcher, was worth a win more than Morneau; Jeter, who actually had a good year with the glove for a change and who plays one of the most valuable defensive positions, was worth 9.1. The trick, of course, is that Morneau had big counting stats – 34 home runs and 130 RBI – which Jeter did not (much though I hate admitting it, Jeter’s offensive value to a team simply cannot be measured accurately by sportswriters who love home runs and RBI), and of course there's the fact that Morneau had a strong second half as the Twins rebounded to win the division on the final day. Another MVP win for the best storyline candidate.

6. 1984 AL: Willie Hernandez
With the rise of players like Alex Rodriguez, we sometimes forget just how impressive Cal Ripken Jr. was in his prime. Some people talk like he only made the Hall of Fame because of his longevity, but the fact is that he was easily the premier offensive shortstop in the game for the better part of a decade, and he was a good fielder to boot. This is exemplified by his 1983-1984 two-season stretch in which he was worth a combined 26.1 wins above replacement, a fairly staggering number by most normal standards. Prior to the advent of sabermetrics, however, no one knew what “wins above replacement” was or how to measure it, and simply relied on traditional numbers and assumptions. How else to explain that in 1984, a year in which he led baseball in VORP and was worth more than 13 wins above a replacement player, Ripken finished 27^th in the MVP voting, receiving just a single vote. Even accounting for the fact that no one knew about WARP and VORP and wouldn’t have considered them meaningful even if they had, the vote was just strange; Willie Upshaw received more votes than Ripken despite having fewer hits, doubles, home runs and RBI, fewer walks, more strikeouts, a lower batting average, and despite playing a less meaningful defensive position for a team that also did not make the playoffs (though the Blue Jays finished second while the Orioles finished fifth).

Of course the most insane part was Hernandez actually winning the award, perhaps the most egregious example of “picking a player from the team that wins” in history. It’s not that Hernandez didn’t have a great year for a relief pitcher – but he was a relief pitcher. He was the seventh-most valuable pitcher in the AL that year, although, perhaps surprisingly, he was in fact the most valuable pitcher on that Tigers squad, and since the Tigers won 104 games, well, someone had to get rewarded, and it couldn’t be a Tigers hitter since none of them had 100 RBIs and Lance Parrish, the closest to the mark with 98, had only hit .237. As vital as Hernandez was to the Tigers’ success, he illustrates the problem with just picking the best player you can think of from the best team in the league; frequently, the best team is the best team not because of one player. Replacing Hernandez with Joe Anybody would have cost the Tigers nine wins – and they still would have won 95 games and run away with the division (which, as it was, they won by 15 games). Replacing Ripken with a replacement shortstop would have cost the Orioles fully 13 wins – and they would have dropped from fifth to sixth, which of course is why no one paid any attention. And that just shows why it’s all the more important to have more sophisticated statistics – just about the only differences between Ripken’s MVP year of 1983 and his 27^th-place finish of 1984 were a handful of batting average points, 16 RBIs, and his team’s finish. The fact that he could put up nearly identical seasons and have the team drop four spots in the standings tells you it’s not about one player, and if Ripken was really valuable enough to be MVP in 1983, he was valuable enough to be MVP in 1984 too. I guess it’s too much to expect that kind of consideration from old-school sportswriters.

5. 2007 NL: Jimmy Rollins
Joe Sheehan of Baseball Prospectus derided the Rollins win, saying he had won not the MVP but the “Most Valuable Copy Creator Award.” It’s a difficult charge to deny; Rollins, after all, was the most consistent player on a team that had charged from seeming doom to a playoff spot in just the last few weeks of the season, and he had that fun stat line (20+ doubles, triples, homers and stolen bases). What’s more, it wasn’t a particularly good year for NL MVP candidates; two of the four playoff teams didn’t have a single player in the voting’s top ten. Still, the writers have certainly given the MVP to non-playoff-bound players before; it happened in 2006. And by virtually no measure was Rollins even a top-five player in the league, let alone a true MVP candidate. He got on base at only a .344 clip, and failed to hit .300 despite 212 hits – thanks to his 716 at-bats, the most in league history. He was worth 9.2 wins over a replacement player, which is a pretty good number, but it wasn’t even the best on his own team, as Chase Utley put up a 9.3 despite nearly 200 fewer at-bats than Rollins thanks to injury. It can also be argued that Rollins wasn’t even the most valuable shortstop in the NL, as Hanley Ramirez had the same number of hits in 77 fewer at-bats and had a significantly higher VORP (though Rollins held a slight edge in WARP1 due to Ramirez’s defensive shortcomings).

The whole thing was probably doomed from the start, however; the league’s MVP should have been David Wright, and he couldn’t even finish top three, as voters irrationally blamed him for the Mets’ struggles down the stretch even though he hit .442 with a .492 OBP in the last two weeks of the season. Meanwhile, Prince Fielder finished third even though Wright had a better BA and OBP and was worth four more wins than Fielder, in part because Wright was a good fielder at a valuable defensive position whereas the ironically-named Fielder was a butcher at a lesser one. But the voters were swayed by Fielder’s impressive 50 home runs enough to vote him third. With that in mind, it’s hardly surprising that voters preferred Rollins and his 20-20-20-20 season over Wright, and for that matter over Matt Holliday, who wouldn’t have been the best choice either but who was at least distinguishable as the best player on his own team.

4. 2001 AL: Ichiro Suzuki
The 2001 AL vote provides one of the best – or worst, depending on how you want to look at it – examples of how the voters simply cannot stay consistent from year to year in any reasoning except “Best Headlines Made.” Ichiro had a great year in 2001, his first in MLB; he hit .350 and banged out 242 hits, to date his second-highest single-season total in a career that has seen him rack up almost 1600 hits in just seven full seasons and tie the all-time single-season record. Nevertheless, he’s mostly a singles hitter and was only the third-most valuable offensive player on his own team. Bret Boone was #1 on that Mariners squad, and it’s even odder that he was overlooked due to his impressive counting stats: 37 homers, 141 RBIs. He was an average second baseman but still had a WARP1 of 9.7; Ichiro, a good right fielder, was worth more than a win less. The question becomes: Why Ichiro? Yes, Ichiro was new to the Mariners, and they won 116 games – but Boone was in his first year as a Mariner as well. I suspect the answer is that Boone’s season was seen as an aberration – since he had been a decent but never great player in nine previous seasons – while Ichiro swept into the US on the back of a huge reputation as a hitter in Japan and helped deliver a record-tying number of team wins. (Boone’s HR and RBI numbers were also not as impressive as they might have been due to the power explosion in the NL.) Yet again, the winner was the guy who generated the most interesting headlines.

3. 1985 AL: Don Mattingly
While Mattingly wasn’t an awful choice in general, the 1985 vote proved to be yet another example of inconsistency from the writers. Mattingly did have big counting stats – 35 homers and 145 RBI – but his team missed the playoffs, while George Brett – whose VORP was much higher anyway – led the Royals into the playoffs (and eventually to the World Series, though of course voting is done before the playoffs begin). Brett’s OBP was .436, as he walked over 100 times while striking out just 49. Mattingly was also a rare strikeout (just 41 in 1985 and just 444 in a 7000-at-bat career), but he also didn’t walk nearly as much. At any event, Brett was more valuable in just about every respect, yet he didn’t win, even though the voters in the same year gave the NL MVP to Willie McGee, in part because he was the best player on the division-winning Cardinals. Mattingly wasn’t even the most valuable player on the Yankees (that honor belongs to Rickey Henderson, who had a higher VORP and was worth 13 wins above replacement, two more than even Brett; Henderson finished third in the voting), and they failed even to make the playoffs. So why did he win? Probably the RBIs; they’re just a stat it’s easy for the average voter to wrap his head around. Never mind that Henderson getting on base at a .419 clip in front of Mattingly helped those RBI numbers a lot (Henderson scored 146 runs that year). Mattingly was no doubt also aided by the Yankee mystique; in 1985 we were a few years removed from Reggie Jackson, and sportswriters were no doubt looking for the next great Yankee slugger, and it seemed they’d found him in Mattingly. (Sadly for them, Donnie Baseball failed to hit as many as 35 home runs ever again, and his career sank into a permanent mediocrity once the 1990s rolled around.)

2. 1987 NL: Andre Dawson
This one hurts. But not only was Dawson not even the most valuable Cub in 1987, he wasn’t in the top forty players in baseball in VORP, and he played right field – not among the top half of most challenging defensive positions – just slightly above average. His WARP1 was 6.7, and even using more conventional stats, he only hit .287 and had an OBP of .328. However, he jacked 49 home runs and knocked in 137, and in the 1980s, 49 was a ton of home runs; no one had hit 50 since George Foster in 1977, and no one would until Cecil Fielder in 1990. Nevertheless, in spite of his home runs Dawson was a less valuable offensive player in 1987 than such noted names as Randy Ready, Bill Doran, Juan Samuel and Kal Daniels. All this might not be such a big deal if it weren’t for the fact that Dawson played for a last-place team. It’s easy to see how Dawson slipped through – the rest of the top five was Ozzie Smith, Jack Clark, Tim Wallach and Will Clark. The first two both played for the eventual pennant-winning Cardinals, and indeed that was probably the problem; Clark and his 35 home runs likely drew votes that would have pushed Smith over the top. Despite not hitting a single home run, Smith was still in the top ten in the NL in VORP; adding in his superior defense at short gave Smith a WARP1 of 10.3, several wins ahead of Dawson. The true MVP was probably Tony Gwynn, who hit .370, but he played for a 97-loss Padres team and finished a distant eighth in the voting.

1. 1995 AL: Mo Vaughn
Vaughn is another good example of a guy who wasn’t even the most valuable player on his own team. Vaughn’s 1995 VORP of 52.4 was 11^th in the AL, while John Valentin was worth 22 more runs and 2.4 wins, thanks to his adequate shortstop defense and Vaughn’s adventures at first base. Vaughn hit 39 home runs and knocked in 126, but how he was able to top Albert Belle and Edgar Martinez is somewhat baffling. Belle hit 50 in the shortened season, also knocking in 126; Martinez had a better batting average and OPS than either Belle or Vaughn, but he was clearly hurt by the fact that he didn’t play the field. He hit so well, however, that he was still worth 8.7 wins above replacement, nearly four more than Vaughn. Belle, who had a good fielding year in left, was worth 11.2, more than twice as many as Vaughn. Martinez and Belle were also 1-2 in the league in VORP. Of course, these are all fairly complicated stats that weren’t in any kind of common use then, and furthermore they don’t take into account the fact that Belle was a jackass. Baseball writers have been known to be somewhat vindictive about these things. Still, with the stats already favoring Belle and the Indians going a rather astonishing 100-44 in the shortened campaign, it’s kind of amazing people were that unwilling to vote for him. He did only lose by eight points, but there’s basically no excuse for this one. Belle was the most valuable player in the league by a pretty wide margin; it’s hard to find any reason except that writers didn’t like him. Not sure how that explains Barry Bonds’ seven MVPs, but then he’d probably have more if he were more likable, too.

You just don't get it, do you, Volume III

I suppose we have no one to blame but ourselves. The sports media has spent so much time over the past few years pushing football as the American sport, and every possible game as event viewing, and every play as war - a few weeks ago, I actually heard a radio host say "Anyone who says football isn't war is lying," which made me want to put him on the next plane to Iraq - that it was inevitable that someone like Nick Saban would say something like Nick Saban said after Alabama's (admittedly embarrassing) home loss to Louisiana-Monroe last week. But I don't know if anyone thought he'd go quite this far.

"Changes in history usually occur after some kind of catastrophic event," Saban said. "It may be 9/11, which sort of changed the spirit of America relative to catastrophic events. Pearl Harbor kind of got us ready for World War II, and that was a catastrophic event."

I rather enjoy his qualifications there - 9/11 sort of changed the spirit of America, Pearl Harbor kind of got us ready for World War II - but more importantly it's simultaneously hilarious and horrifying that he thought these were valid comparisons. Weren't there any sports metaphors he could have drawn on, or something vague and cliché like "It's always darkest before the dawn"? Football is not a matter of life and death; I'm sorry, it's just not. I like football, but the way this country treats it these days is just worrying. It's encroaching rather heavily on things that actually matter, and that's not a good thing. Losing a football game is not a "catastrophe." Turning a football program around, however impressive, does not rate as a "change in history" on the level of fucking World War II.

Of course, it's not so much Saban's rampant hyperbole that was the problem. It was the refusal to back off those words; usually people realize they've gone too far and quickly backtrack, but the follow-up statement from the program was basically that Saban hadn't said what he obviously had.

"What Coach Saban said did not correlate losing a football game with tragedy, everyone needs to understand that. He was not equating losing football games to those catastrophic events," football spokesman Jeff Purinton said in a statement to The Associated Press. "The message was that true spirit and unity become evident in the most difficult of times. Those were two tremendous examples that everyone can identify with."

correlate (v.) To put or bring into causal, complementary, parallel, or reciprocal relation. I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that Saban bringing up 9/11 and Pearl Harbor as things that "changed history" and were "catastrophic events" as a way of explaining how a home loss to Louisiana-Monroe was a "catastrophic event" that would "change history" constitutes, at the very least, a parallel relation. As far as whether he was literally equating them, no, I don't think I would argue that, but it doesn't really matter. Simply putting them in the same thought invites the equation on the part of the listener, and that's problematic enough.

On the bright side, if Alabama gets blown out by Auburn in the Iron Bowl we ought to be able to look forward to an inappropriate comparison of mammoth proportions. Maybe something involving slavery, or the Holocaust? That's about the only place left to go.

There's no news but beard news

You will, of course, recall the beard contest being held at work. We are now two weeks in. As a refresher, here's what I looked like on November 5:



Here is what I looked like on November 19, two weeks later (and, of course, yesterday):



I cleaned up the neck, because it would have been ridiculous if I'd gone four weeks without shaving anything. So I went from "guy who has gone way too long without shaving/hideous forest creature" to "guy who is actively sporting a clean beard." I don't think it's that bad a look, all things considered, although there's no way in hell I keep it beyond December 5.

Right now I'm leaning towards "friendly muttonchops," simply because I think that would just look incredibly silly, which is kind of the goal. I hope it gets full enough that it looks "funny silly" and not "can't grow a beard silly"; I think of all people I'm going to have one of the most full beards after a month, but a key part of friendly muttonchops (or its close cousin, the Franz Josef) is the mustache, and I've never grown an especially good one. So we'll see.

Enough already

It's obvious why the tabloid press spends so much time focusing on Britney Spears. She's a colossal train wreck of the absolute highest magnitude, the kind of cautionary tale that makes everyone else in the world breathe a sigh of relief and thank God they don't have her problems. She's just like some woman living in a trailer in Appalachia who won the Powerball and now can spend every day going to Starbucks and not working. It's baffling that she managed to have two kids despite having the maternal instincts of a wet towel. And so forth.

But do you think it can stop being news when 85 paparazzi crowd around her car, taking pictures and blinding her with flashes, and then something happens?

TMZ caught Brit at the Four Seasons in Beverly Hills, where the drivin' popwreck was surrounded by photogs as she made her way into the parking lot. The paps refused to move, despite several warnings and documented footage of how Britney rolls. Moments later, Brit shockingly rolled her new wheels over a guy's foot.

Honestly, if there's anyone in the world I have less sympathy for than Britney Spears, it's the people whose only job is to crowd around her car just waiting for her to do something dumb. I have an idea, guy: maybe don't get so close to the car that the tire could roll over your foot? It reminds me of that old State Farm ad that annoyed Alma, because in it the woman rolls over her husband's foot in the car and the ad is all, "Ha ha, stupid women drivers," but really, why was the guy standing with his foot under the wheel right as she was trying to back out of the driveway?

I mean, really. She shockingly ran over his foot? I don't think so. Hell, just look at this story, which implicitly blames Britney for a guy getting hit by a car. And what, exactly, was that guy doing?

Several cars were in line chasing the pop princess when one hit another photog on a motorcycle, throwing the rider off the bike and onto the road. We're told the rider was seriously injured and transported to Cedars-Sinai Medical Center. His current condition is unknown.

UPDATE: We're told that the injured person is what is known as a "spotter," and does not actually carry a camera. He will follow the star and tip off other photographers to her whereabouts.

So he's a professional stalker? I know that public figures have to give up certain assumptions of privacy, but how is this nonsense even legal? Also note that Britney had nothing to do with the accident except that it involved multiple idiots chasing her, but the article runs with a picture of her looking crazy as usual, so the casual reader is likely to think, "Britney's at it again!"

Sorry to go all Chris Crocker on you there. But I think we've reached the saturation point with this stuff. Does the media really not have anything better to do?

Looks like I picked the wrong week to quit sniffing glue

I've been on something of a personal betterment kick lately, brought on by a recent mental breakthrough that I was holding myself back from maturing as a person for no good reason. As a result, I've been doing things like taking the garbage out regularly, beginning the arduous process of cleaning my room (about which more anon), and taking more control of my finances. Somewhat, although not entirely, related to this is the recent realization that I seem to have acid reflux; I'd been having minor chest pains for a while and chalked it up to muscle aches until a trip to the lunch buffet at the Indian restaurant in our building resulted in me eating too much too quickly and getting the same pains as a result. After a consultation with my dad, I decided to cut 99% of carbonation and 100% of caffeine out of my diet - so long, four daily Diet Cokes - and attempt to eat slower (only some success here so far) and in more moderate amounts (more success; I actually took home leftovers when Alma and I went out last Saturday night, which is probably the first time that's happened in ten years). This will probably also assist in the eventual weight loss goal, and probably in money-saving (I'm trying my hand at bringing lunch from home, which I estimate could easily save me 20 bucks every week).

At any rate, the payoff for this is that we happen to be in the midst of the single-busiest two-week stretch of the year at work. Probably not the absolute best time to give up caffeine - I was in the office for 13 hours today, for example - but you know what? I'm sticking to it. There's little doubt in my mind that six months ago - hell, six weeks ago - I would have gotten to Wednesday and then said "Fuck it" and pumped myself full of caffeine. And although part of me feels that way right now, I think it's better for me in the long run to stick to my guns, for a variety of reasons.

Just one more week, and then it gets easier...

The only thing we have to fear is beard itself

I don't think I've mentioned this to more than a couple people, but my boss - effectively out of nowhere - decided that we should have a beard-growing contest at work. Yeah, I don't know either, but if there's one way to guarantee my participation, have a stupid contest that I can be good at without having to do much of anything. As you may already be aware - check out some cola or root beer taste test pictures from last winter if not - I'm pretty hairy, particularly on my face, but aside from the goatee area I've never gone more than a week or so without shaving. So this should be interesting. And probably itchy.

We're taking weekly status photos, so I figured I'd post them here. Gives me some actual Flax-related content for a change, instead of complaints about shitty writers or goofy news commentary.

Week One

One of the guys had the idea that we should hold up that day's paper; I'm not sure why, since you can't even read the date and I'm not sure how anyone was supposed to be "cheating." It'd be one thing if I held a beard contest on this site and made people hold up that day's paper to prove they hadn't shaved ahead of time to get a growth head start. Everyone in the contest works in the same office, so I don't think anyone was really going to be able to pull that one off. It just makes us look like hostages. Note that even though I had shaved maybe five hours earlier, you can already see a five o'clock shadow.

Week Two

I think it's just the shirt, and possibly the way I'm standing and/or my distance from the camera, but doesn't it look like I put on 20 pounds in a week? Awesome. And yeah, this is me having gone a mere week without shaving. Considering this is as long as I let it go before shaving in any normal situation, I'm a little scared to see what it's going to look like in another week. I'm just hopeful I don't get mistaken for an escaped primate and dragged off to Brookfield.

Here's where you, the viewers at home, come in. This isn't merely a growth contest; at the end of a month, the rest of the department will vote on whose beard is the best, including such elements as style. Simply trying to out-hair (what?) the rest of the crowd isn't going to be enough (especially since, improbably, I may be only the second-hairiest guy taking part). So feel free to make suggestions in the comments as to styles I could perhaps use at the end of the month. I'm not sure if I'll have enough hair by then to accommodate all possibilities, but I'd like to know what's out there.

How Scoop Jackson spent his summer vacation

There is not a worse working writer than Scoop Jackson right now, among sizeable media outlets. You cannot convince me otherwise. The guy's been terrible from the moment he walked in the door at ESPN.com - remember in 2005 when he wrote a column accusing Cubs fans who didn't root for the Sox to win the World Series of being racists? Yeah, good ol' Scoop, the only "journalist" in America who writes articles like they're essays by a high school freshman.

In his latest brilliant creation, Scoop takes time out from his usual shitty writing to explain how being a shitty writer enabled him to spend a day doing something that sounds cool (although in fact, it was just a big marketing blitz, which Scoop is either falling for or shamelessly going along with). Basically, he's bragging about how awesome it is to be a nationally-known writer. Which for some reason he is. I mean, this guy must have written well at some point, right?

Ever think that, one day in your life, you'd get a phone call and someone would request your presence at a once-in-a-lifetime event? Something that every sports fan, basketball fiend, kid from the 'hood, child of God, wished they could experience?

Ever think that, just a few days later. you'd be in a hotel lobby (W) in your home city, standing side-by-side with so many iconic figures in the world of urban journalism: Bobbito Garcia (Bounce), Tony Gervino (Antenna), Datwon Thomas (King), "Hawaii" Mike Salman (LTD), Jay Corbin (Rise), Ben Osborne (Slam), Steve Mullholand (Sole Collector), Memsor Kamarake (Vibe), the ridiculously attractive representative Smokey Fontaine sent over (Laura Fernandes, sportswear and entertainment manager, Giant). All waiting to get on a bus? At 10 in the morning?

I love the name-dropping here. I'm white, of course, but I've heard of basically none of these people and few of the publications. I also love how he manages to work in the fact that one of the women there was attractive (no!) and also says "10 in the morning" as though it were the crack of dawn. We're already off to a great, great start.

I'm going to skip ahead because every single paragraph is a big "Ever think?" question, each more obnoxious than the last. Ever think you'd see a supposedly serious journalist write an article with a gimmick so stupid it wouldn't even fly in an average college application essay?

Ever think that you'd get to spend an hour with Michael Jordan talking about shoes? Not interviewing him, but talking with him? Talking about his life in those shoes? And at the same time, Tinker is talking to you, lending you insight into the craft. Then a shoe is unveiled. Then you are reminded of the embargo you signed before you entered. That nothing said, heard or seen leaves this arena. Ever think you'd be one of only 28 people invited to see the new Air Jordan XX3s?

Looks like Scoop broke that embargo. As though Nike cares - "Oh no! Scoop Jackson is writing a retarded column that's building up hype for the new Air Jordans! Shut that guy down right now!" Do you think Scoop even realizes that the whole thing was clearly just part of a big publicity push, and that all these influential urban writers were expected to remember the great experience they had and talk up the shoes as a result? "Man, the Air Jordan XX3s - those are some great shoes!" Of course, Air Jordans symbolize pretty much everything that's wrong with the urban basketball culture - the triple-digit sneakers that exist primarily as status symbols, kids buying them who really can't afford to, the associated flash and me-first culture that's doing its damnedest to stifle the modern NBA. I would think Scoop Jackson - who practically doubles down on the race card - might not think Air Jordans were the greatest thing in the world. But of course, Scoop Jackson has certain reasons to like Air Jordans.

Ever think that, like Jordan after a game, you'd have a hot milk and almond pedicure prepared for you in the W at Bliss by Eboni? Ever think you'd have chill-out time after the pampering -- to do an interview, relax in rooms with mink pillows, then sit at the bar and have in-depth conversations with media luminaries like Ric Bucher and Otto Strong of ESPN The Magazine? Ever think that, everywhere you went that day, people would treat you like you were Him? That you'd have dinner at his restaurant (One Sixty Blue) with Jordan? That he'd come down from his private room, buy everyone a drink and thank us for coming, and say that he hoped we enjoyed "his experience"?

Fuck yourself, dude. Seriously. You are an ass. This is the least subtle "bragging about the perks that come with being semi-famous" piece of bullshit I have ever seen in my life. Mink pillows! A milk-and-almond pedicure! First of all, is this the Jordan Experience or the Oprah Experience? Second of all, stop bragging, you dick. You got this stuff because you're a writer who could be counted on - clearly - to fawn over Jordan and his product. It's not like you won a raffle.

Ever think that you'd be given the opportunity to be Michael Jordan for a day? Ever think that, in your lifetime, any of this could happen to you?

Neither did I.

"And between me and whoever's reading this, I'm the only one it did and will ever happen to! Suck on it!" Can you believe this was published? Can you believe the ESPN.com editors read it and said, "Yeah, that looks like a worthwhile use of column inches?" It's one of the most embarrassing things I've ever read. I'd feel sorry for Jackson if I didn't already think he was such a waste of space. Somewhere out there is a talented sportswriter who's never going to get a job because Scoop Fucking Jackson is chewing up a slot at ESPN with this garbage.

The great Fire Joe Morgan has a hilarious dissection of another Scoop anti-masterpiece. And in case you want to remember why I hate this idiot in the first place, read his blithering column from October 27, 2005, in which he not only calls Cubs fans racists, as I've mentioned, but suggests that Sox fans are the only "real" Chicago baseball fans (all 17 of them?). Nothing I've read before or since has come close to being so offensive, so shockingly uninformed (as though thousands of people didn't jump on the White Sox wagon in '05), or so generally stupid. Why does this guy have a job? What is he contributing? Granted, it's worthwhile to have different voices in a discussion, and Scoop certainly represents black culture in a way the vast majority of sportswriters don't. But there isn't anyone out there who could do the same while putting together articles that look like they were written by someone who had at least been to college? (I assume Scoop has a college degree, but it's not like you can tell.) I'll tell you this: Scoop Jackson has given me a real appreciation for Jason Whitlock. And that's saying something.

Please, try the fish

I think we all know that talking to the press is a boring, thankless job, especially if you're a mid-level political figure. You're expected to deliver every bit of news with a straight, serious face, sometimes boiling it down to easier-to-digest sound bites, and then answer questions from a throng of reporters eager to get answers. So I suppose every once in a while, you're looking to work a joke in there to lighten the mood, even if it's the stiffest, most forced joke ever, and even if it's not exactly in a very appropriate spot.

Take it away, Assistant Secretary of State Christopher Hill:

Piracy is "is a very serious security problem on the African coast. These are not pirates who will remind you of Johnny Depp. These are quite different kinds of pirates," Hill told reporters in Seoul, South Korea.

He'll be here all week, folks! Here all week for six-nation nuclear disarmament talks, that is, but I hear he's going to be moonlighting at the Seoul Zanies.