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What gives you the right to fuck with our lives: III
this town has turned into a ghost town
What gives you the right to fuck with our lives: II
I ride for you, I rhyme for you, I roll for you, i...
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What gives you the right to fuck with our lives
Monday, October 23, 2006
out of gas, out of road, out of car, I don't know how I'm gonna go:
My friend Tim, the New Peter Gammons, has a great, great column in today's New York Sun about the alleged rebirth of Kenny Rogers. Rogers may be turning into the pitcher he spent the last 15 years telling us he was, but a little perspective is in order. It's not that Rogers hasn't been shockingly good this postseason -- Marchman actually compares him to Whitey Ford -- but keep in mind, a) "this postseason has featured the least impressive great pitching I can recall"; and b) with the exception of the Yankees, he faced/is facing A's and Cards offenses that have been underperforming for months now.
I can't find it in my heart to love the cameraman-smacking Kenny, but he's been really great, as everyone knows, this October. Yet, damn it, it's time to ask the question: after the Jason Grimsley revelations, is it not possible that Rogers' very-late-career rennaisance is fueled by steroids or HGH? I welcome the stat-heads who'll say that maybe Rogers isn't really overperforming this last month relative to his starts this season or last or whenever, but the man is a) about to turn 42 and b) is a famous, famous choker. Color me skeptical.
Well, the whole pine tar debate adds another fun parallel to the Whitey Ford discussion.