Start me up

Recently I was reading a blog where "Welcome to the Jungle" was put forth as the best first album track-one of all time. It's not bad, but I don't think it would crack my top five. Which got me thinking about what I would put up there. Here are some nominees I had, in no particular order:

Led Zeppelin, "Good Times Bad Times"
Kick-ass. Possibly one of Zeppelin's ten best songs, period; for all the different styles they tried and as great as a lot of their more "experimental" stuff could be, for my money they were just drop-dead awesome at the basics of rocking. (See also: "Communication Breakdown.")

The Beatles, "I Saw Her Standing There"
"One two three fah!" In my rankings this is the best song the Beatles put on an album until 1965, and it was the opening track of their very first LP. And since it's a Beatles song, you know it's an all-time classic.

The Doors, "Break On Through (to the Other Side)"
Although they put out fully six studio LPs between 1967 and 1971, the Doors easily peaked in front-to-back quality with their first one, which contains probably three of their five most famous songs, including this one. There's really never been another band that sounded quite like the Doors did on their first album, and this was the song that introduced the world to it.

Boston, "More Than a Feeling"
You could argue this one, I suppose; Boston, to some degree, only has this one album, and while "More Than a Feeling" is a pretty good song, it may not be the all-time classic that some of these songs are. But it at least deserves a place in this narrow discussion.

Cream, "I Feel Free"
Perhaps an unfair comparison with many of the rest of these, as Cream was a fully-functioning supergroup even in 1966. All four of their albums have all-time classic songs on them, but "I Feel Free" is certainly one of the five best they did, and they had the sheer balls to open with it.

U2, "I Will Follow"
Not everyone loves U2, and Boy is a more forgettable album than stuff like The Unforgettable Fire and The Joshua Tree, but even those who think U2 is a really overrated band, particularly in the last decade, should be willing to admit that for a first song by a group that formed as a cover band in Dublin just four years earlier (famously, before most of the band members were particularly proficient with their chosen instruments), the driving rock of "I Will Follow" is pretty great.

It's also interesting to think about the songs that don't qualify because they came off a second album that just happened to be the first one the artist actually got known for. Take "Blowin' in the Wind," for example, which would be a strong contender for #1 on this list... except that The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan was Dylan's second album, following 1962's self-titled album which today is almost entirely forgotten (and not without reason; Dylan's two-disc "Essential" album, released late in his career, contains no tracks from that first album but two from Freewheelin'). 1970's Elton John leads with "Your Song," but his first solo album was 1969's Empty Sky, which, according to All Music Guide, contains no "forgotten gems." Other bands still put what turned out to be their first album's seminal song in a position other than the opener; "My Generation" is track six even though it gives The Who's first album its name, and "American Girl," which I always loved as the opener to Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers' Greatest Hits album, is the last track on Petty's debut.

Pull out "More Than a Feeling" and you might have my top five, though it's of course tempting to include personal favorites like The New Pornographers' "Mass Romantic," Ben Folds Five's "Jackson Cannery," Fountains of Wayne's "Radiation Vibe," and The Killers' "Jenny Was a Friend of Mine."

Did I leave out any supreme classics? What would be your top two or three or five?

Stop the presses

Journalists gravitate towards the best story. It's not much of a surprise, therefore, that as Josh Hamilton - introduced by Chris Berman as "five of the best stories in baseball this year" - pounded 500-foot homer after 500-foot homer in the first round of last night's Home Run Derby, it wasn't just the crowd that immediately crowned Hamilton the new home run king before he'd actually won the Derby. And I mean, that's fine - Hamilton is a good story, a former #1 overall draft pick who threw his career away thanks to heroin addiction, then defied the odds to make it back to the major leagues and now, in what will be his first full big-league season assuming he doesn't get injured, leads baseball in RBIs at the All-Star break. He hit 28 home runs in the first round last night and 35 total; he has just 40 career home runs.

But he didn't actually win the Home Run Derby. Totals reset in the final round and Hamilton, probably worn out from hitting 28 moon shots in the first round, was able to crank out just three, falling to Justin Morneau. Morneau hit just 22 home runs in the entire Derby, but he hit more than Hamilton in the final round, and so he actually won.

Now. The Home Run Derby is a ridiculous exhibition, and it doesn't really matter who wins. And Hamilton's first-round barrage was, in fact, something to behold. But the morning after, and even right after it happened last night, people were ready to erase Morneau from the history books like he hadn't even been present, which seemed a little odd. Sure, it's not much of a story for a mild-mannered Canadian guy who already has an MVP trophy on his shelf to win the Derby with a mere 22 home runs. But it was the story. Don't tell that to people like Jayson Stark:

[H]ow will we explain that this was Josh Hamilton's night even though, technically speaking, somebody else won?

That somebody else was Twins first baseman Justin Morneau, by the way. We'd probably better mention that now before we forget -- because it'll be, oh, about 20 minutes before everyone else forgets.

Again - yeah, okay. Hamilton had a really awesome first round. He had 50,000 people in Yankee Stadium chanting his last name. It was a pretty great moment. So great, apparently, that it proved the existence of God, at least if you ask new ESPN acquisition and unrepentant sapmeister Rick Reilly, who was quoted during the broadcast as saying, "It's a lousy night to be an atheist."

This because Hamilton apparently had a dream two years that he was competing in the Home Run Derby, at Yankee Stadium, and because Hamilton credits God with saving him from his drug addiction. Of course, as Junior at Fire Joe Morgan pointed out:

It already seemed weird at the time, but now it seems even weirder that God, if He does indeed exist, would shove it in the atheists' faces by having Hamilton break Bobby Abreu's hallowed first-round record of 24 home runs (was Abreu's night also a bad night for atheists?) and then come right back and force Josh to hit only 3 taters when the contest is on the line. Questionable storytelling sense, God.

In addition, Mike Davidson, the State Farm Insurance guy who presented the check to the Boys and Girls Club, called Morneau "Jason," inspiring a rather hilarious grimace-then-laugh from Erin Andrews, who didn't pronounce his last name very well either ("Mar-neau") but at least knew that his first name was Justin. Mike Davidson doesn't work in baseball, but I don't think it's unfair to expect him to know the guy's name, especially when it's been announced and flashed all around the stadium multiple times during the event. (Let's not cut Andrews too much slack; the only question she asked Morneau after the trophy presentation was, "How did you beat Josh Hamilton?") It may have been a lousy night to be an atheist, but in some ways it was an even lousier night to be Justin Morneau.

We all got it. Josh Hamilton is a good story. And we know that after that first round, everyone at ESPN desperately wanted him to win. But it seems like it could have been a little less transparent somehow. It's okay if the crowd was deflated after Hamilton lost (and they were), but I would have expected a little better from journalists, even at a non-event like the Home Run Derby. Would this happen at the World Series? Like say the Cubs and Red Sox played in the World Series this year - obviously at this point the Cubs winning would be the "better story." If the Cubs were to lose in seven games, and the very first person interviewed on the field at the conclusion of the seventh game were Lou Piniella, and then during the trophy presentation Bud Selig called Terry Francona "Tony," do you think Red Sox fans might be a little annoyed by that? Maybe at the Home Run Derby it doesn't matter so much, but it seems a bit problematic to let storylines completely dictate your coverage. That's the only reason I'm not looking forward to a Cubs postseason run - you know that during every game we're going to hear about Bartman and the goat and everything else that Cubs fans are sick of hearing about eight thousand times. Because that's where the "story" is, and God forbid we just watch some baseball games.

A lame excuse for an excuse

Did you hear about Jesse Jackson's comments about Barack Obama? No? Here they are:

The remarks came Sunday as Jackson was talking to a fellow interviewee, UnitedHealth Group executive Dr. Reed V. Tuckson. An open microphone picked up Jackson whispering, "See, Barack's been talking down to black people ... I want to cut his nuts off."

Well! That's certainly a classy statement. Reverend Jackson, anything to say in your defense?

Jackson told CNN's "Situation Room" that he didn't realize the microphone was on.

"It was very private," Jackson said, adding that if "any hurt or harm has been caused to his campaign, I apologize."

Private, huh - you don't say. I'm shocked that you didn't think the microphone was on. But let's not bullshit here, Reverend - you clearly believe what you said, or you wouldn't have said it. And note that nothing in Jackson's words actually backs off the statement itself. He says that he didn't realize the microphone was on and that the comment was private - as if blaming other people for having heard him - and then apologizes for the following things:

* "if any hurt or harm has been caused to [Obama's] campaign"
* the fact that the particular words used were "crude"

Earlier, Jackson told CNN he felt "very distressed because I'm supportive of this campaign and with the senator."

"So supportive that I would like to cut his nuts off for being, supposedly, condescending." Nice work, Jesse.