Hold on a sec

Several Miami Dolphins crawled across the field after practice Tuesday — not due to exhaustion, but because they were looking for a diamond earring.

Defensive end Kendall Langford said he forgot to take his earrings off before practice and lost one during drills. He said the diamond was nearly 2.5 carats, which is why he was still on the field an hour after practice scanning the grass.

Associated Press.

Wait, really? Because my understanding is that if the Dolphins are looking for someone to find lost gemstones around their facilities, they’ve already got a guy:

R.I.P. Roger Podacter.

What’s funny about this

Jerry Manuel is suffocating from the silence above him.

The embattled Mets manager admitted yesterday that he would “love to know” if the organization plans to bring him back next season, but he also isn’t about to seek out GM Omar Minaya or Jeff Wilpon for an answer.

Mike Puma, N.Y. Post.

What’s funny about this is that on the Mets’ radio broadcast last night, Howie Rose and Wayne Hagin anticipated exactly that type of gravitas from the Post in response to Manuel’s comment.

But Manuel, they explained, said what he said after having been asked the same question by the same reporter several different ways. Rose said Manuel essentially relented and said, “yeah, sure, I’d love to know,” when asked if he would prefer to know his job status for next season. Because who wouldn’t?

The writing’s on the wall for Manuel, and from a fan’s perspective, you know, fine. He bunts too often and mismanages the bullpen.

Puma’s doing his job obviously, trying to come up with some way to sell papers on the first night of what looks to be a long September for the Mets. But this is a nothing thing. Hagin and Rose dismissed Manuel’s comment as a throwaway line.

Not that it really matters one way or the other, I guess.

Seizing this opportunity

The Cardinals are fading fast, so I might as well seize the opportunity to point this out while I can: Major League Baseball’s Wild Card system is unfair. A lot of times it works out fine and good teams wind up in the playoffs, and certainly it makes for some exciting pennant races, plus there’s always a lot of randomness at play anyway.

But the idea of rewarding the non-division winner with the best record doesn’t really make sense so long as the clubs play unbalanced schedules. Those Cardinals get to play the bulk of their games against the Astros, Brewers, Cubs and Pirates, four teams toiling well below .500.

And yet St. Louis is only a half game better than the Rockies in the Wild Card race, even though Colorado regularly squares off with the Giants, Dodgers and Padres, all of whom are above .500.

The example isn’t perfect because the Cardinals are only 31-29 against the N.L. Central, so it’s not like they’ve coasted into playoff contention by dominating their weak opponents. But then, what would their record be if they faced the rigors of playing in any other division?

It strikes me that you can have an unbalanced schedule or a Wild Card, but you probably shouldn’t have both. I don’t imagine this system is going anywhere so maybe I’m just an old man yelling at clouds, but to me it doesn’t seem like it would be too hard to come up with a better one.

A while back I suggested (twice, actually) that the whole “Year of the Pitcher” thing might have something to do with the league-wide pitching talent finally catching up to the number of teams after expansions in 1993 and 1998, among other things.

So I imagine Major League Baseball could jumpstart offenses a bit by expanding to 32 clubs and giving each league four four-team divisions, eliminating the Wild Card.

Some would argue that shaking up the divisions would destroy certain rivalries, since in that model perhaps the Mets would no longer play the Braves, boohoo. But extant rivalries would intensify and new rivalries would develop.

Another potential downside would be the possibility that teams in each division run away with it and there’s not much meaningful baseball in September. But that’s basically happening in the American League this year anyway. Unless the White Sox manage to make a run in the Central, the only compelling race in the Junior Circuit is which A.L. East team wins the division and which takes the Wild Card.

A nice additional benefit to expansion could be the possibility that it would make the players’ union more amenable to some kind of salary cap or a more punitive luxury tax system to prevent the Yankees from doing what they do, which seems to piss people off so much. The Mets annually show us that there’s no strict correlation between payroll and winning, but I suppose it wouldn’t hurt the game to level the playing field a bit.

And I don’t know about that stuff and I haven’t thought it all the way through. I just know that if the Cardinals manage to scrap out the Wild Card this year, it’s kind of a travesty given how much harder the haul has been for the teams in the other N.L. divisions.

I realize, of course, that lots of things about baseball aren’t fair and that random events like that are a big part of the game, but I do feel the onus should be on the league to make everything as equitable as possible.

Fooled you!

I’m off to Brooklyn to film some Cyclones stuff for the Baseball Show. Actually by now I’m probably already there.

To be perfectly honest, this blog has been on autopilot for several hours now as I do a bunch of stuff to get my act together to go to Chicago on Friday. I got you good, suckers!

Anyway, I may or may not have some more posts soon depending on the Internet situation in the park and the whims of my crappy home laptop. In the meantime, enjoy this merengue-dancing dog:

Fatherly heroics

During the decisive fourth inning of the Yankees-A’s tilt last night, Mark Teixeira unloaded a massive moonshot towards our seats, Bob Iracane calmly stood up, pointed his glove towards the heavens, and easily snagged Teixeira’s thirtieth tater tot of the year.

Rob Iracane, Walkoff Walk.

Funny recap from Rob at Walkoff Walk of how his father caught Teixeira’s home run last night.

My own father caught a moonshot in his very first game at Citi Field last year, except by “moonshot” I mean “softly hit Ramon Castro foul ball” and by “caught” I mean “had it land right in his damn nachos.” But hey, at the time we had no idea that Ramon Castro foul balls would be in such short supply at Citi Field.

The nachos, miraculously, were mostly OK.