It's hard to get too angry about the Baseball Writers Association of America's decision not to induct anyone from a stacked class of eligible players to the Hall of Fame this year. It's just the Hall of Fame, after all. But it's definitely possible to get angry about it if you try.
Everyone is getting paid. Some people are getting traded. The Mets ownership group is performing some sort of mean-spirited Dadaist prank on the very idea of baseball. Sam Horn springs fully formed and hungry for burgers from the head of David Raposa. Business as usual.
The jokes are right there when it comes to Jeffrey Loria's recent situationist prank/gutting of the Miami Marlins. But even with baseball's evilest muppet acting his evilest in the middle of it all, it's tough to laugh at the latest bit of avant-garde shamelessness from baseball's worst owner. Tough, but not impossible.
Only two teams remain in the baseball season. Or, more accurately, two teams, an infinite number of likely Brian Wilson-related antics, and a near-infinite number of truck commercials and McCarver-puns. Which is a lot, actually.
The playoffs are here, which means Bronson Arroyo's singing face, a few extra between-cigarette cigarettes for Jim Leyland, and the freaking Cardinals and Yankees. It's a good thing. Let's talk about it.