Buyers And Sellers

Hunter Pence says goodbye to his teammates on Friday
night in Milwaukee. Blockbuster deals like the one the
Phillies made for Pence are the lifeblood of baseball during
the dog days of July and August.

The dog days of July can often be taxing even on the most hardcore of baseball fans. The weather is hot, all teams seem to struggle and the casual fans tend to avoid the stadium for the air conditioning.

But when the last day of July rolls around, there's a new excitement in the air. That's right, I'm talking about the trade deadline.

From Fister-Furbush – arguably the greatest trade name of all time – to massive blockbusters that involve half the teams in the league, there is no greater day than July 31st. Football and basketball don't make big deals about their trade deadlines. Only in baseball do we get to witness the true madness of teams trying to make the playoffs or build for the future.

As a kid – when the trade deadline was still midnight – I used to stay up, glued to "Baseball Tonight," hoping to witness a blockbuster trade. I still remember the Randy Johnson trade to the Astros coming moments before the deadline expired.

Now the deadline has been moved up – presumably to accommodate to the sleep schedules of the owners and sportswriters alike – but there's still that magic surrounding the deadline.

In a few short hours, fans will see what management thinks of their post-season chances. Some teams – like San Francisco and Philadelphia – have already made deals, electing to go after a three-month rental of superstars Carlos Beltran and Hunter Pence, respectively. Others are having a fire sale, selling everything in hopes of building for the future.

But if there's one thing that can be said about the trade deadline, it's that it is hard on everyone involved. Just look at Pence during Friday night's game in Milwaukee.

After being pulled from the game, Pence hugged each of his teammates as a way of saying goodbye. Little does he know, he's about to go from a lowly Astros team to the heart of the playoff race with the Phillies. And while he was visibly upset, my guess is he'll quickly warm to his new teammates.

Whether your team is a buyer or seller – or you're just looking for a laugh through trade names – the trade deadline offers some hope for all of us. If nothing else, it means that football is right around the corner.

What I Learned At College

Texas Tech's Tommy Tuberville may be smiling during
the Big 12 media days, but my guess is he'll quickly lose
that smile after Dan Beebe reprimands him for his sarcastic
remarks about the league's staying power.

While the NFL players are signing contracts and trying to get ready for the season in half the time they normally take, not all eyes are on the big boys. Some are carefully watching the college game and ignoring all the legal mumbo-jumbo that's going on at the professional ranks.

From Ohio quarterback Gunner Kiel's shocking verbal commitment to Indiana to the zoo that is media days, college football is certainly on the forefront of most fans' minds. For those that went to college, this final week in July signifies hope that our alma mater will once again make us proud on the field in the fall.

It is also a time most journalists – like myself – salivate for the quotes bound to come out of players' and coaches' mouths. I'm not sure whether its the heat, the two-a-days or just the fact that everybody's so enthralled about getting ready for the season, but every year there seems to be at least one coach or player who spouts off at the mouth and says something he immediately regrets.

Last year, Texas Tech's Tommy Tuberville criticized the Big 12 and said the league wouldn't last without Nebraska or Colorado. Dan Beebe, the Big 12 commissioner, didn't enjoy Tuberville's lack of enthusiasm and reprimanded the coach.

This year, Tuberville didn't spout off at the Big 12 media day, per se. Instead he showed his support for the league by saying it will last. But before his time at the podium ended, Tuberville followed that answer up by asking the media if that was what he was supposed to say – taking one final dig at Beebe. One can only imagine the punishment that is bound to occur this time.

However, Tuberville is not the only one who will be in hot water before the start of the season. Southern Cal running back Marc Tyler may also end up in coach Lane Kiffin's doghouse after a night out in Hollywood.

Tyler – knowing full well that USC is currently under the close watch of the NCAA – told TMZ that the reason the Trojans are able to land such prized recruits is because at "USC, they breaking bread." Now I'm a little behind on my hip-hop lingo, but I can't help but wonder if USC players are making more than the NFL players. After all, what kind of college kid has enough dough to hit up a Hollywood club? Who knows, maybe Kim Kardashian has gone back to her old roots of chasing down USC running backs.

Either way, these are just two examples of what is sure to be a colorful week of college football. The games are always fun to watch, but if this is just a taste of what's to come this year – well, you better fasten your seatbelt and get ready for a wild ride.

Are You Ready For Some Football?

It has been a summer full of headaches for NFL Commissioner Roger
Goodell and his associates. Fortunately, some quick thinking by the NFL
owners turned the players into the enemy in the fans' eyes – possibly
resulting in the two sides reaching a deal soon.

In what has become a summer long chess match between the NFL's players and owners, it looks like the world is finally ready for some football.

And for the players, it's checkmate.

Using the shrewd tactic of appealing to the fans – something the players should have done a long time ago – the owners of the various clubs managed to get a stronghold on a situation that's has gotten almost out of control.

With the NFLPA still looking over the contract – a contract that includes a 14-year labor agreement to keep a lockout from happening for several years – the players now have a choice. Do they accept the bargain as is – ensuring there will be an NFL season – or do they reject it and possibly lose the loyal support of their most prized possession, the fans?

Either way, the players lack of action has put them between a rock and a hard place – not that many Regular Joes would sympathize with then multi-million dollar athletes anyway.

Its sad, really. If you look at the strikes in Major League Baseball, and the NBA lockout, every time it seems like the players turn into public enemy No. 1. When in reality, we should sympathize with them more. While they're paid massive salaries, they are only able to work a few years before their career is over.

I honestly believe that the players want to play the game – they just don't want to do it for peanuts like circus animals. They have been dying to get in the weight room and lace up the pads all summer. Now, the time has come for them to decide if they can work with the owners and get this thing straightened out.

And should that happen, I shall echo my fellow herd of NFL fans when I say, "It's about time!"

All In A Day's Work

The Phillie Phanatic is one of the most lovable mascots in
all of sports. Even after a hot, grueling day full of mini bats
and tail pulling, the Phanatic can still make almost anyone
laugh at his antics.

The next time you think you have the worst job in the world, just remember, it could be worse – you could be a mascot.

While most of us enjoy the luxuries of air conditioning and a stationary lifestyle behind a desk, there are those out there sweating it out in the summer heat, making not much more than minimum wage. Granted, most of those involved are young enough to handle the extreme temperature, but being a mascot is a job I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.

Not only are you having to lug around a 20 to 40-plus pound sweater and oversized shoes – effectively turning the fluffy costume into an oven – but there are plenty of other hazards to look out for. Just ask the Phillie Phanatic.

A few weeks ago the man inside the lovable green goofball was on the receiving end of a foul ball. The ball struck the mascot in the neck – or directly on the man's head. Being the trooper that he is, the actor continued to dance and put hexes on opposing pitchers. But it was to no avail, as two innings later he was taken in for treatment, never to return to the game.

Foul balls aren't the only obstacle mascots encounter. There's also the dreaded kiddos.

While the University of Missouri's Truman the Tiger is known for his tail-twirling ways, other mascots know how kids see tails – as something to be unexpectedly pulled, yanked and twisted at a moment's notice. Many a mascot have lost their hind quarters because an overzealous toddler latched on at an inopportune time. I, too, have been guilty of pulling at the tail of the Omaha Racers' Rowdy a time or two when I was a kid.

As if foul balls and tail pulling isn't enough, there's always one night a year every mascot fears. That's right, I'm talking about mini bat night.

Imagine a bunch of kiddies full of cotton candy and ice cream with mini clubs in their hands. They want to hit something and the only thing they can spot is a giant fluffy creature – turning said fluffy creature into a oversized piñata. Napoleon Bonaparte himself has never faced such a fearsome army.

So the next time you head out to the ballpark, remember all the people behind the scenes that make the game enjoyable. From the beer man to the mascot, they're out there sweating it out and taking lumps with mini mallets so that you and your family can have the ultimate experience. And if you see a mascot trying to entertain you, don't hesitate to laugh. For them, that's the biggest perk of the job.

O Captain! My Captain!

All eyes were on Derek Jeter during his quest
for 3,000 hits. Jeter's home run for No. 3,000
was a perfect ending to a long and storied
career full of hard work and playing the game
the right way.

Let it be known that I have, nor will ever be, a Yankees fan. I despise any team that spends an exorbitant amount of money to buy championships, while teams like the Kansas City Royals build the right way – through their farm system.

That being said, I was actually in awe of the Yankees last week – well, at least in awe of their captain.

I've never been a huge Derek Jeter fan, but he is one of the few players that plays the game the right way. He shows up to the field ready to play, diving into stands to catch a foul ball or getting the timely hit his team needs. He doesn't show up the other team or the umpires – for him, it's just business as usual.

Last week, Jeter recorded his 3,000th hit – an impressive feat for anyone. But the way he did it was even more remarkable. Of the 3,000-plus hits, only 237 have been home runs and 481 have been doubles. Basically, Jeter has made a Hall Of Fame career out of being the setup man for the Bronx Bombers that hit behind him. He has also made only 224 errors in nearly 9,500 chances.

It isn't just his offensive production that impresses me, it's also his character. Jeter was a star in high school, but he never let it get to his head. That sense of maturity has carried on throughout his career – so much so that the only time he makes the papers is when he starts dating another supermodel.

Even with all the fanfare that surrounded his 3,000th hit, Jeter kept his cool. He didn't press because he knew eventually he would get it. And when the ball sailed over the fence for No. 3,000 and into the mass of people eagerly awaiting the chance to clutch history, Jeter trotted around the bases as if it were his 100th hit – nothing too special.

He probably could have taken the rest of the game off if he wanted to, but that wouldn't be Jeter's style. No, instead he went 5 for 5, while helping the Yanks beat Tampa Bay – a perfect ending to a perfect day. After the game, Jeter's character shined even brighter when he met the young man who came away with the ball, posed for several photos and signed some bats and balls for the ultimate dogpile warrior.

So from baseball fans everywhere, I'd like to say, "Thank you, Derek." You have worked harder than anyone else and have played the game in such a way that brings honor to the pinstriped Evil Empire. And when the time comes to hang them up, I will guarantee that you're a first-ballot Hall of Famer and deserved to have your number and bust hanging beside the likes of Ruth, Gehrig and Mantle.

What's Your Life Worth?

Police officers secure the area where Shannon Stone fell to his death during
the Texas Rangers' game against Oakland. Stone's death shows that more
safety precautions need to be put in place at all stadiums.

Anyone who has stepped through the gates at any ballpark around the country has the same dream. A dream of a white sphere floating towards them before landing gently in their hands.

The odds of catching a foul ball are so small – about 1 in 500, give or take – people will do anything to get their hands on these prized pearls. They bend, twist and stretch over railings, people and chairs hoping to take a free souvenir home from the game.

I, myself have been lucky enough to have held two foul balls in my life – both came during Cards-Cubs games with my dad. Of course, having a dad who's 6-foot-5-inches tall and has an impressive wingspan doesn't hurt when it comes to snatching fouls.

Many father-son bonding moments have been had over foul balls. It's a special time when a father shows he's willing to do just about anything for his child. Although, in the case of the Cards-Cubs game at Busch, my dad willingly jumped out of the way of a screamer before we both decided to give the ball up to a pair of ladies who had never been to a baseball game before.

Unfortunately, this willingness to show his son Cooper Stone just how much he cared cost Shannon Stone his life when the 39-year-old firefighter tumbled over the railing onto a concrete slab. The moment of joy, when Cooper's hero Josh Hamilton tossed a ball toward them, quickly turned to tragedy that has torn at the heart of every baseball fan in America.

No longer will Shannon be able to sit in the stands and cheer on his slugger during little league games. Who knows, seeing his dad fall to his death may force Cooper to turn away from baseball completely – a game that was made for fathers and sons to enjoy.

The tragedy could also have an affect on the players. Chances are, because of this, they will think twice about tossing a ball into the stands.

Baseball is supposed to be a safe, enjoyable event. The time has come to make sure that all stadiums are safe. If there's gaps between the fence and the spectators, put nets up. If the railings don't reach at least the chest of an average man, build them higher.

Commissioner Selig, I challenge you. Make sure Cooper is the last to lose his father at a baseball game.

And while you're at it, how about a nice moment of silence for Shannon Stone during Tuesday's All-Star Game in Phoenix. After all, baseball wouldn't be where it is today without the loyal support of its fans.

Finally, if any of you would like to donate to the memorial fund in honor of Shannon Stone, you can do so here.

Hot Dog!

The pain Joey Chestnut is experiencing
during Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest will
be nothing compared to the heartburn felt the
days after the competition ends.

If you haven't been to Nathan's on Coney Island or have never tuned into ESPN on July 4th, you are missing quite a spectacle.

From the 400-pound beefeaters to the tiniest of hot dog hogs, men and women of all sizes are paraded and lined up on a stage for the world's greatest competitive eating challenge – Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest.

While this year's competition will miss the familiar shake of Takeru Kobayashi – a 150-pound hot dog king who is still embattled in a contract dispute – there is still be plenty of shimmying on stage. One who will surely be shaking it all about is three-time reigning champ Joey Chestnut.

As a former competitive eater, I can categorically say that doing a little jig helps. During my time at the Missourian in college, I won a hot dog-eating contest amongst the summer's sportswriters, Granted, the contest was only a minute long and most people chose to enjoy the free snacks, but I managed to down three hot dogs in that short time.

It may or may not have been the single greatest moment of my life.

Of course, there have been plenty of disasters with hot dogs, as well. Who hasn't eaten a bad polish sausage from the dorm cafeteria in college? The heartburn that follows is usually the kind that cripples you on the couch and makes you swear to never eat any processed pork product again.

So while most of you are grilling burgers and brats, just remember why we are celebrating – for the true heroes. The guys who down 60 hot dogs in 12 minutes without thinking of the ensuing pain that will follow in the coming days.

While you're at it, remember those Pepto Bismol workers passing out the pink stuff to limit the heartburn. And don't forget those honorable porcelain thrones and the folks that make them. Afterall, the massive quantity of hot dogs has to go somewhere.