http://www.yardbarker.com/users/CeciliosScribe Recent Yardbarker Articles: CeciliosScribe en-us Honestly, what the f*&! is going on here? Don't get me wrong, I'm certainly not complaining. But who in the world is this team I'm watching??!!! It can't be the Mets. No, the Mets were a bumbling, unemotional group that couldn't fight their way out of paper bag. Once they were down, they were inevitably out. They played bad, dumb, uninspired baseball. Inconsistency was the name of the game. The words "fundamental" and "baseball" were banned from unifying in the Mets clubhouse or dugout. Other telltale signs of the Mets? An old, punchless bench that couldn't look more clueless at the plate. A bullpen that was the antithesis of clutch. Carlos Delgado, by our own admission, dead. Runners is scoring position? Likely to stay there. Small ball? Moving runners over? Please, we couldn't bunt a man into scoring position or drive in a runner from third with a sac fly if the pennant depended on it. That was a month or so ago. Call it Manuel. Attribute it to whatever you want. Alls I know is that someone...something...some inexplicable force...has possessed this team. They are simply not themselves. The uniforms are the same. Most of the players. The television says it is the Mets. My eyes say it is so. But this not the team I have known, and there's nothing logical to explain it. The New York Mets have now won 10 straight games. They are tied for first in NL East. The only thing consistent with this team of late is that everything seems to be going their way. Clutch hitting. Stellar performances from the bench. Fernando Tatis??!! Bunts, sac flys, hit-and-runs working to perfection. The chalkboard is translating to the actions on the field -- to a "t." Game-tying two-run homer in the ninth? Multiple comebacks after Santana gets touched up? Wagner 1-2-3 in the bottom? Honestly, it's all just too much for this fan to handle. I simply can't get my head around it. Perhaps, later...my apologies. The Mets are eight over and tied for first place. The Mets have won 10 straight... /mumbling to myself, shaking head continuously in disbelief and utter bafflement Thu, 17 Jul 2008 22:23:27 -0500 http://www.yardbarker.com/author/article/291995 http://www.yardbarker.com/author/article/291995 Around the horn in the ole' sports blogosphere... Wed, 16 Jul 2008 21:46:48 -0500 http://www.yardbarker.com/author/article/291411 http://www.yardbarker.com/author/article/291411 It's one of baseballs' great mysteries. The examples are few and far between. But they are there, and they are unmistakable. No doubt you've seen one. During tonight's All-Star Game, it was Edinson Volquez. My most memorable was Mike Cameron, as a member of the New York Mets. No matter where these men travel, their distinctive and completely inexplicable style seems to ravel with them. We speak of the bearers and wearers of the straight-brimmed, oversized slightly askew cap. These men, for whatever the reason, choose to don their official New Era headgear a bit differently than the rest of their Major League counterparts -- or virtually anyone else in the world. Back when I was rocking countless sweet lids, my only concern was how I could get that perfect arc. Hell, I even used some of those hi-tech tools to help ensure it was perfect. It was also fairly important that the hat not look like an oversized bread bowl on my noggin. Not these guys. For these few proud(?) men, the objective seemingly is the exact opposite. Do not touch the brim in any way whatsoever. Keep it untarnished and perfectly straight as if starched stiff. Go for a fitted cap that is slightly bigger than is necessary. Then, if truly ambitious, add a slight rotation. Approximately 45 degrees in either direction, up to a full 90 for those willing to push the envelope to the brink. Some sterling examples from a few of the keepers of the flame. Edinson Volquez Photobucket C.C. Sabathia Photobucket Sweet Lou Photobucket Fernando Rodney Photobucket David Eckstein Photobucket Shawn Chacon Photobucket Mike Cameron Photobucket Brendan Ryan Photobucket So, who's rockin' the slanty-straight brim on your hometown team? Learn us. We are continually fascinated by this phenomenon. Tue, 15 Jul 2008 22:57:38 -0500 http://www.yardbarker.com/author/article/290956 http://www.yardbarker.com/author/article/290956 Enough is enough already. Can someone please muzzle Berman? Tue, 15 Jul 2008 09:53:23 -0500 http://www.yardbarker.com/author/article/290658 http://www.yardbarker.com/author/article/290658 Today, one miiiilion people are expected to line Sixth Avenue in New York City for the MLB All-Star Game parade. A red carpet has been laid out that covers 18 blocks of our fair city, and a who's who of All-Stars and hall-of-famers will stroll uptown towards Central Park with the afternoon's festivities culminating in the main event this evening in the Bronx. I don't get it. I mean, I work in PR/mktg, so I get the "tactic." It makes good sense for Major League Baseball. Hype up the last All-Star Game in historic Yankee stadium. Celebrate America's pasttime on the biggest, grandest media stage in the world. Trot out the legends to create excitement and "buzz." I get all that. I guess what I don't get is why anybody, outside of the tourist or father with their kid, would go to the parade. Take me, for instance. I love baseball. Watch every night on TV, own season tickets, can't wait until October. I respect the greats of yesteryear and appreciate those moments where the young stars stand alongside those folk heroes they may have only read about, as well as the younger "legends" whom they grew up idolozing. But is it that exciting to stand against a stansion and see Reggie Jackson walk on a carpet? Who are these people who are pushing their way past little kids to snap photos with their camera phones? Perhaps I'm the strange one in that seeing a "celebrity" has never really had the same impact on me as it seems to have on so many others. Get me in the lockerroom with my team after they've won the Super Bowl? That would be something. Put me in a bar with a few of my favorite Mets, similarly interesting. Watch players walk down the street and wave? Not so much. In writing this, I'm realizing my bigger issue could very well be with parades in general. Outside of the Jets or Mets in front of City Hall, and sans any rugrats under my parental obligation, I don't have much motivation to ever attend one. Does that make me somehow un-American? Am I alone, here? What say you Legend faithful? Sorry, I have to go set my DVR for the four-hour FOX pre-game show now Tue, 15 Jul 2008 09:21:10 -0500 http://www.yardbarker.com/author/article/290644 http://www.yardbarker.com/author/article/290644 It's agonizing, frustrating, gut-wrenching. You find yourself constantly looking up at the scoreboards on Ballhype, Yardbarker and Technorati, watching the numbers plummet. You silently question whether you can re-capture that magic you saw in glimpses earlier in your career. You tinker with your approach, shift locations in the writer's box, even don a lucky thong to try to help turn the tide (no, not really). Yet, nothing seems to work. On your darkest days, you even contemplate hanging up the keyboard. Welcome to sports blogger slump. For those fans out there who casually check out sports blogs from time to time, it may seem a bit much to empathize with the overpaid, underworked pampered sports blogger of today (except when you consider that the majority of us are of course unpaid, overworked and only occasionally pampered by the comments of our friendlier readers). But let me tell you something. A blog slump is painful. It is draining. It is all-consuming. There are several definitive stages in the anatomy of a sports blogger slump. We've outlined them below. Should you experience any of these symptoms, you may, in fact, be experiencing a slump. Veteran bloggers recommend cutting out all sports viewing and attempts at word processing, as increased activity in these areas may only lead to further complications. Results vary but the condition should improve within three to four days and proper stimuli from the sports world. Of course, those experiencing an erection of four hours or more should still seek immediate medical assistance. 1. Denial – Denial is stage one of a sports blogger slump. Oftentimes the blogger sees his/her authority averages and traffic numbers decreasing, but refuses to acknowledge they are mired in a blog slump. They claim they are still "seeing the news well" and "taking good hacks," but their posts simply aren't "falling." When questioned, the sports blogger insists they are "coming around" despite empirical evidence to the contrary. 2. Deflection – During this stage, the slumping sports blogger begins to place blame for their struggles on others. Often these laments are directed at the lack of news in the sports world or a purported disdain for writing about Favre, NBA refs, the All-Star Game and all those topics "everyone else is writing about." He/she bitches about long road trips and their effect on their performance. When, in fact, the slumping blogger's creative tank is simply running on empty. Their virtual pen has slowed, their prose just isn't crisp. 3. Anger – In stage three, the slumping sports blogger begins to outwardly show signs of frustration. Typically, the blogger looks around the League and bemoans how other players manage to continually hit for average and power. He/she occasionally falls prey to mild temper tantrums that involve childish actions such as throwing mice after a whiff on a post, or arguing with a commenter with little or no provocation. 4. Despair – Stage four is one of the uglier times for a sports blogger. It is at this point, that retirement is a real consideration. The sports blogger looks around the clubhouse and wonders if the game has simply passed them by. He/she wonders if their edge is gone. Are the other bloggers are too young? Is the slumping sports blogger no longer built for the modern game modern game? It is at this point where he/she many times steps away, if only for a moment, with the intention of saying goodbye. 5. Realization – In the end though, the slumping sports blogger comes to the same understanding at which so many others have arrived. There is but a single solution to the problem. Only one avenue exists, a lone path out of the wretchedness of slumpdome. Keep writing. Post and post and post. Eventually, the shots will start falling, the line drives will again find holes, the puck will inexplicably rediscover the net. Or you'll chuck up an airball, or go down swinging on three straight pitches. I guess we'll see. Sometimes it only takes one to climb out. Sun, 13 Jul 2008 20:11:57 -0500 http://www.yardbarker.com/author/article/289922 http://www.yardbarker.com/author/article/289922 I really don't know much about Richie Sexson. Perhaps, Willie Bloomquist is right. Maybe Sexson still plays real hard and just caught a bunch of bad breaks and is really a decent guy ready to return to form if given the right opportunity. I'm not buying it. He's a big baby. An overrated, oversized one-dimensional whiner. Anyone who goes chucking his helmet at an opposing pitcher after a pitch that's shoulder high and basically over the plate is a poor excuse for a big-time player. Sexson, Dunn, the infamous Rob Deer, I really, truly don't understand what compels teams to go out and dump millions into these guys. Sure, when they get a hold of one, they can hit the ball a very, very long way. But this isn't Home Run Derby. Richie's putrid performance in Seattle took it to another level, though. Anytime a player making approximately $15K/year boasts the lowest average of any regular in the Major Leagues, something is horribly wrong. To add injury to insult, Sexson's home run numbers have also gone in the tank. His 21 dingers in 121 games last year were a far cry from the 45 he swatted during his final year in Milwaukee back in 2003. Through it all, Richie was consistent in one area. Good ole' fashion whiffing. That's right. He's plugged along at a consistent rate of about 1K/game, with his ratio proving even a bit more prolific this season (76Ks in 74 games). Yep, you could always count on that tall drink of water for something. We can't wait to see which team is the next sucker to snatch him up with visions of Brewer resurrection dancing in their head. Losers. Omar, no. Don't even think about it. Thu, 10 Jul 2008 21:54:51 -0500 http://www.yardbarker.com/author/article/288910 http://www.yardbarker.com/author/article/288910 A new summer rite of passage for America's college gridiron stars. Wed, 09 Jul 2008 22:23:39 -0500 http://www.yardbarker.com/author/article/288309 http://www.yardbarker.com/author/article/288309 The Legend of Cecilio Guante takes a look back at a year in sports, and his first in the blogosphere... Sat, 05 Jul 2008 17:49:55 -0500 http://www.yardbarker.com/author/article/286071 http://www.yardbarker.com/author/article/286071 I just finished watching my third straight Mets/Cardinals game at Busch. And instead of spewing unfiltered venom all over the keyboard after another absolutely brutal Mets loss, I'm going to say nice things about the Cardinals. Specifically, I'm going to talk about my new man crush on Rick Ankiel (it's part of my therapy). You know how as a fan, even a fairly insane one, you sometimes don't really get to appreciate a player who plays in another market? Put that guy in another division and chances are you're even less in the know than you think you are. Such is (was) the case with Rick Ankiel and me. Everyone knows the Josh Hamilton story. It's perfectly fine with me if that story gets told again and again. It's one of those tales you can't make up and, for now, Hollywood couldn't have scripted it better. Hamilton has overcome physical and psychological pain and trauma that I can't even imagine, and I am in no way pitting Hamilton versus Ankiel in terms of comeback stories. I think most of us would make some clear distinctions between the two. However, spending three days in St. Louis brought to life for this New Yorker just how amazing (in the baseball context of the word) Ankiel's own story has become. First of all, aside from anything on the field, Ankiel's "presence" is one of the first things I noticed in the 'Lou -- in every Foot Locker, Champs and Cardinals Clubhouse. Right in the front window after front window, dead center and only occasionally flanked by a t-shirt or jersey adorning the number 5 with the name "PUJOLS" etched across the back. Number 24 is on the streets everywhere you look, on the backs of construction workers, on young girls and boys at the St. Louis Galleria and all over Busch Stadium. Ankiel seems to have that All-American boy appeal that David Wright commands in New York. Then there's his presence on the field. Simply put, I had no idea how good this kid was (or can be?) until watching him in person. His potential is perhaps even scarier (albeit he's now 28). Sure, it was only three games and die-hard Cardinals fans might quickly point out the flaws in his game, or tendencies unseen to the fan only passing through town. But from what my eyes witnessed over three games this week. Wow. My first reaction was to his Ankiel's play in the field. I remember thinking to myself after the second game: "this kid could be a Gold Glover." He tracked down everything, and watching him run down line drive after line drive it all appeared smooth and effortless, the word "natural" came to mind. And, of course, there is the arm. The same arm I recalled wildly throwing the ball around the backstop back in 2000. But a cannon nonetheless and one that has been put to great use on mutliple At the plate, his swing is sweet and the ball jumps off the bat. The power is clearly there, and he drilled two in the last two games just to remind Mets fans. What's more he also sprinkled in a few line drives. My impression of Ankiel as a hitter has always been that hes an all or nothing guy. Great story. Gifted athlete. But it's either feast or famine with a strikeout or a dinger with 24 at the plate. It looks like that might not be the case (as often) anymore, and, if true, that's a pretty scary prospect for opponents. Regardless, the whole experience in St. Louis was a bit surreal for me when it comes to Ankiel. A few times I found myself shaking my head in disbelief. This was the same kid who lost the strike zone, and his head, in 2000? Back then, I had chalked up his career to "wasted talent." A flash in the pan, remembered only with a chuckle that you felt bad about letting out but somehow couldn't stifle. It was how it almost certainly would be in 10-15 years. A few guys reminiscing about about a Ricky Vaughan-like guy named Rick Ankiel. "Remember him?" "Oh yea, great stuff and then fell apart in 2000 playoffs versus the Mets and never made it back..." Maybe someone had a different script in mind for Ankiel. Looking around Busch Stadium and seeing a see of red spotted with a bount of #24 Ankiel shirts and jerseys was a testament to a man who has his made an impressive comeback in his own right. Thu, 03 Jul 2008 00:40:21 -0500 http://www.yardbarker.com/author/article/285390 http://www.yardbarker.com/author/article/285390 Being a fan is like being in one of those completely dysfunctional relationships. It makes no sense to stay with it, yet you can't seem to help it despite a complete and utter lack of logic... Sun, 29 Jun 2008 21:41:46 -0500 http://www.yardbarker.com/author/article/283963 http://www.yardbarker.com/author/article/283963 A stockpile of talent in Memphis? Fri, 27 Jun 2008 11:03:54 -0500 http://www.yardbarker.com/author/article/282959 http://www.yardbarker.com/author/article/282959 As we stand on the precipice of the 2008 NBA Draft, I care surprisingly little. The thing that intrigues me most is not who will be taken first overall or what draft-day trades will be consummated. What interests me is those who will be selected with one of those high picks, showered with praise and "upside potential" to the Nth degree, staked to a hearty contract all only to disappear with nary a whimper from our collective NBA consciousness. The real fun as I investigated the first round selections of past drafts was stumbling upon those names that makes your eyebrows crinkle and ask: "Who?" Sometimes the names themselves are not entirely unfamiliar, but, with all of them, the memory of their NBA career is ever-challenging to recall. These are not necessarily busts, although some fit the description. But, for all, to be selected so high, and leave such a small imprint, was surely a disappointment to the teams that selected them. So, who are those players and names from the past decade? Who was taken in the coveted top half of round one? Who were those prospects to whom NBA teams saddled hopes of upgrading their roster if not becoming a pillar of their organization? Who are these now forgotten ones? Let's take a walk down memory (or amnesia) lane. Here are a few of the eyebrow-raisers this somewhat-educated NBA fan had trouble pulling out from the cranial archives (either by name, NBA career, or, most often, both). 1997: Olivier Saint-Jean (#11 to Sacramento, San Jose St.) If you were like us, the name Olivier Saint-Jean conjured up visions of absolutely nothing. Until, of course, one realizes that Saint-Jean is Tariq Abdul-Wahad. Finckle is Einhorn. Einhorn is Finckle! Yes, Tariq cast away his native France in favor of an Islamic conversion in 1997. Among this list, Saint-Jean Abdul-Wahad, although nothing to write home about, was far from the laughingstock of the bunch. 1998: Bryce Drew (#16 to Houston, Valparaiso) Like I said, some of these guys names you might remember. Anyone my age cannot forget Drew nailing that improbable three to beat Ole Miss in the 1998 NCAA Tourney. Watch that video again and listen to the commentary. I'd forgotten the lead up to that final play, which makes the last few minutes of that game all the more amazing. Forgotten could also be the word I'd use to describe Drew's NBA career. Bryce somehow started 41 games for 00-01 Bulls and ended his six-year stint with a 4.4 ppg average. OK, now watch that play again. How about the inbounds pass??!! 1999: Frederic Weis (#15 to New York, France) Our post namesake and inspiration. Sometimes Wikipedia really is all you need. My favorite line: "He was drafted by the New York Knicks with the 15th pick in the first round of the 1999 NBA Draft but did not sign with them and never played in the NBA. His selection is widely regarded as a major draft blunder that contributed to the several mediocre seasons that followed for the Knicks." You don't say? 2000: Jerome Moiso (#11 to Boston, UCLA) Ask me where Jerome Moiso played college ball, and I'd immediately be able to respond with UCLA. His NBA career? Can't say I ever remember seeing the guy play. Ever. Which sounds about right if you look at the rundown. Marcus Fizer should also get a HT for being so dominant in college and almost succeeding in leaving no delible imprint on the part of my brain that recalls NBA players in uniform. 2001: Kirk Haston (#16 to Charlotte, Indiana) Hmmmm...slow, 6'9 white guy from Indiana. Don't care how nice a touch he has on his jumper, you might not want to take a pass, Charlotte. Apparently, some lessons are never fully learned. 2002: Nikoloz Tskitishvili (#5 to Denver, Italy) This person went #5 overall in the draft. #5. Overall. Wait, who is this person? 2003: Michael Sweetney (#9 to New York, Georgetown) Since he was drafted by the Knicks, I have a soft spot for Sweetney. He seemed like a real good guy who just couldn't keep himself away from the buffet table. Plus, it was just awesome when Walt Clyde would say "...with the sweet stuff" after Michael jammed one home. But a #9 pick? Really? Georgetown has been one of my favorite college teams since I went to hoops camp there at age 10. I watched a lot of Hoyas basketball. How could one look at Sweetney and deem him worthy of a top 10 first-round pick? Ahhh, yes. It was the New York Knicks. A team that makes many things possible that could seemingly not be accomplished by any other franchise. By the way, David West went 18th and Josh Howard 29th in 2003. Sure neither of those fellas could've helped the Knicks. Nah, not a bit. 2004: Luke Jackson (#10 to Cleveland, Oregon) Another guy I loved in college. Sweet stroke. Luke had that long-haired Pacific Northwest laid-back vibe going with Ridnour. But Cleveland might want to reference our comments on the 2001 draft and Charlotte's selection. That said, Jackson appears to be improving a bit with age. Still, it was shocking to look back and see his name next to the #10 pick. 2005: Fran Vazquez/Yaroslav Korlev (Picks #11 and #12 to Orlando and the Clip Joint, Spain/Moscow) Never heard of these guys? Neither had we. Vazquez is under contract with the basketball version of FC Barcelona - through the 2008-2009 season. He was drafted in 2005. This whole existing contract thing supposedly came as a surprise to the Magic. If we ever hear the name Fran Vazquez associated with any sort of accomplishment in the NBA, that will be our surprise. Korolev was waived by the Clippers in October of 2007. And getting waived by the Clippers is quite an accomplishment. 2006: Patrick O'Bryant (#9 to Golden State, Bradley) Personally, drafting a seven-footer out of Bradley with a top 10 pick just doesn't sound right. Sure, it's way too early to make any sort of judgment about a 22 year-old kid, but when was the last time you heard anything about this dude? Yea, me neither. Maybe it's that east coast bias at work? 2007: Spencer Hawes (#10 to Sacramento, Washington) This guy just reeks of a future Frederic Weis forgotten All-Star. We won't judge...yet. But there was a lot of hype around this guy this time last year. He did play in 71 games and average 13 minutes per contest. So, we'll give him some time before officially naming him a member of this squad. We're anxious to see who becomes the early favorite to join this illustrious class of forgettable and forgotten. Guess we'll have to wait until tomorrow. Pins and needles! Wed, 25 Jun 2008 22:42:49 -0500 http://www.yardbarker.com/author/article/282461 http://www.yardbarker.com/author/article/282461 Drink and driving is bad. No two ways about. There is nothing funny about operating any sort of motorized vehicle while intoxicated (maybe a golf cart). We wanted to get that out of the way first before talking about Cedric Benson. Because, we're starting to get the vibe that the folks down in Austin just might have it out for the former Longhorn standout. First, Benson gets arrested for boating while intoxicated on Lake Travis in Austin. Now, boating and booze have gone together like peas and carrots for just about, well, forever (what else does one do on a boat besides drink?). Again, not that it's right, but bringing Benson down to the clink seemed a little extreme based on the initial reports. Maybe you put somebody else at the wheel, tow the boat in, give him a ticket and warning? Then, of course, there was the pepper spray and resisting arrest part of the story, all of which Benson disputed then and continues to today. Too many versions of the story. Too much distance between those recounts of the episode. Not buying it. Only a month later, Benson gets nabbed again. This time his arrest comes on land where Austin cops say he ran a red light and failed a field sobriety test in downtown Austin. Now, I spent a lot of time in Austin. New York City it is not. But it's not that small. It takes some pretty dumb luck (or maybe just a really dumb dude) to get nailed twice in the span of five weeks for the always tough t0 achieve DW/BW-I combo. Now it seems like unabashed piling on. Yesterday, a judge ordered that Benson install an "ignition interlock breathalyzer" in his car within 72 hours. First off, shows how long I've been without a car that I didn't even know these things existed. Apparently, this is somewhat standard procedure these days, but how might it be I'd never heard of such an action being taken before? I understand it was two violations within five weeks, but, again, there's something fishy about this whole thing (pun really not intended just utterly lacking a formidable vocabulary). The fact that an athlete is denying he/she was drunk is nothing new. But to do it both times so adamantly is either sheer arrogance or unparalleled stupidity. If we were judging by mugshots alone, we'd be inclined to say one if not both of the above were at play. But something tells us there's more than meets the eye on this one. Anyone else feeling it? Tue, 24 Jun 2008 09:11:51 -0500 http://www.yardbarker.com/author/article/281687 http://www.yardbarker.com/author/article/281687 Drink and driving is bad. No two ways about. There is nothing funny about operating any sort of motorized vehicle while intoxicated (maybe a golf cart). We wanted to get that out of the way first before talking about Cedric Benson. Because, we're starting to get the vibe that the folks down in Austin just might have it out for the former Longhorn standout. First, Benson gets arrested for boating while intoxicated on Lake Travis in Austin. Now, boating and booze have gone together like peas and carrots for just about, well, forever (what else does one do on a boat besides drink?). Again, not that it's right, but bringing Benson down to the clink seemed a little extreme based on the initial reports. Maybe you put somebody else at the wheel, tow the boat in, give him a ticket and warning? Then, of course, there was the pepper spray and resisting arrest part of the story, all of which Benson disputed then and continues to today. Too many versions of the story. Too much distance between those recounts of the episode. Not buying it. Only a month later, Benson gets nabbed again. This time his arrest comes on land where Austin cops say he ran a red light and failed a field sobriety test in downtown Austin. Now, I spent a lot of time in Austin. New York City it is not. But it's not that small. It takes some pretty dumb luck (or maybe just a really dumb dude) to get nailed twice in the span of five weeks for the always tough t0 achieve DW/BW-I combo. Now it seems like unabashed piling on. Yesterday, a judge ordered that Benson install an "ignition interlock breathalyzer" in his car within 72 hours. First off, shows how long I've been without a car that I didn't even know these things existed. Apparently, this is somewhat standard procedure these days, but how might it be I'd never heard of such an action being taken before? I understand it was two violations within five weeks, but, again, there's something fishy about this whole thing (pun really not intended just utterly lacking a formidable vocabulary). The fact that an athlete is denying he/she was drunk is nothing new. But to do it both times so adamantly is either sheer arrogance or unparalleled stupidity. If we were judging by mugshots alone, we'd be inclined to say one if not both of the above were at play. But something tells us there's more than meets the eye on this one. Anyone else feeling it? Tue, 24 Jun 2008 09:11:48 -0500 http://www.yardbarker.com/author/article/281685 http://www.yardbarker.com/author/article/281685