The winds of change don’t stop blowing for anyone, and Michael Cox has no idea how many roads a man must in fact walk down before Rick Reilly is willing to stop calling him an asterisk-needing cheater. The state of baseball reportage, and this very site you’re reading right now, awaits.
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Completing his tour of All The Ballparks He’s Loved Before, Michael Cox reveals his favorite of the neo-classic fields as well as his vote for Armpit of the Century.
Wherein a good Catholic boy attempts to drum up Teixeira-mania, and coins the cleverest new term for the Internet ever.
Instead of playing “guess the meds” with Peter Gammons, you could be reading Michael Cox’s innermost thoughts. (We edited out the one about Kevin Federline and the Bad Music SWAT Team.)
Just when you thought it had all died down, The Controversy rears its mustachioed head, and the bubbleheads are again out in droves to tell you that they can tell a steroid user by the little muscular bump on the right side of the neck. Michael Cox is here to call a goiter a goiter, and to again suggest that Mr. Bean could do a better job as commissioner than Bud Selig.
The AL West: a tradition of strong teams; a tradition of getting tossed out on their asses in the postseason.* (*except for 2002) Ted Bauer takes a walk down the coast to run down the possibilities for 2005. If you see him walking, give him a Clif bar and he’ll be just fine.
Turning his attention to the littlest division, Michael Cox declares it “all-offense, all the time.” Or “50 good-looking hitters (and three ugly ones).” Or “the land that pitching forgot.” Only one thing’s for sure: get crazy with those ThunderStix one more time and you’ll be using them as suppositories.
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