Video via The 700 Level:

Fuck the Mets.

A note from the weekend editor: Not everybody at Deadspin is pro-Phillies and anti-Met. For example, I fucking hate the Phillies. Just not as much as I hate the Mets.

Worry of the moment: What if we make it to October and everybody's arms are on E? In this current turn through the rotation, Pedro has looked ordinary and both Ollie and Pelf have been awful. You'll find Aaron Heilman under that heading as well, as per usual, but tonight he was joined by the normally stalwart Brian Stokes, who couldn't locate anything but his fastball and found that wasn't enough. Joe Smith was impeccable (with a lot of help from David Wright), as was Luis Ayala, but when it was 7-1 Mets the devout hope was that tonight's blog entry would be a meditation on the long-delayed debut of Bobby Parnell, instead of more hosannas for guys who could have used a breather. As if. It makes sense that Parnell's baptism has been kept on hold pending a blowout, but there's no such thing as a blowout when the Mets are involved these days.

Last year at this time, the Mets were 7 games up with 17 to play, giving them a 99.80 percent chance of winning the division, according to Baseball Prospectus (you would have gotten 500-to-1 odds if you bet against them). So if I'm reading it correctly, they turned in the second-worse collapse in baseball history.

What will be different this time around remains to be seen. But a couple of factors — Carlos Delgado being chief among them — seem to me to point to the Mets pulling this thing out. Two straight years of dramatic failure just can't happen in an orderly universe. After all, they're not the Cubs.

Baseball Like It's Gotta Be [Faith And Fear In Flushing]

If La Russa shared Edmonds' memory loss before the game, you can be sure he remembers him now. The Cubs maintain an easy lead in the National League as the Cardinals sit seven games behind in the NL Central. The series continues this afternoon with Wellemeyer and Zambrano facing off on the mound. If anyone needs Will, he'll be at the bar drunk on wine coolers and crying in the fetal position.

• CC Sabathia pitched another complete game, his fourth since being traded to Milwaukee. Sabathia, who is unbeaten in seven starts with his new team, tossed a shutout in the Brewers 5-0 trouncing of the Nationals. Prince Fielder extended his hitting streak to eleven games with a single in the first inning and both Mike Cameron and J.J. Hardy went long for a combined three runs. The Brewers are chasing the Cubs in the NL Central while the Nationals are chasing their tails.

• Toriiiii Hunter and the Angels handed the Yankees a pounding in their 10-5 victory over New York. Hunter went 4 for 5, with a double and a home run in a big "Welcome Back" for the Yanks pitcher Ian Kennedy. Kennedy, who made it to the third inning before getting pulled from the mound, rejoined the team after Joba Chamberlain's trip to the DL. The Angels remain the best team in baseball while the Yankees remain screwed.

Sidney Ponson made his unceremonious (only to Ponson, as ceremonious occasions usually have bacon gravy) return to the Yankees in the second half of a two-ballpark doubleheader yesterday with the cross-Gotham Mets. And he laid into them like they were an Aruban judge, tossing six shutout innings in the Yankees' 9-0 in Shea and improved to 5-1 on the year. Carlos Delgado was a force in the day game in the Bronx, homering twice and driving in a team-record nine runs in a 15-6 clubbing of the Yankees.

Advantage: More Cluttered Beltway — Your simian editor was in attendance at the Nats' 4-2 win over the Orioles last night in D.C. Observed among the large-for-Nats-crowd: at least 10 people combining Orioles jerseys with Nats hats, about five of the inverse and one guy with an Orioles jersey and a Redskins hat. Allegiances are still a little muddied in these parts. Also, people are stupid. Odalis Perez threw four shutout innings before getting yanked too early with a 2-0 lead. With the score tied at 2 in the 7th, Kory Casto (yes, that Kory Casto) gave Waaarshington the lead for good with a double to left, with an assist to terrible fielding by Jay Payton. Elijah Dukes, who I found out from the program considered Hulk Higan his childhood hero and quit his first job at a barbecue stand because it was too hot, added an insurance run later in the inning. TWO IN A ROW, BAY-BEE!

Battles of Ohio and Los Angeles (Not the Rage album) Were Shutoutastic — C.C. Sabathia is upping his trade value, going 3-0 with a 1.13 ERA in his last four starts. Yesterday he blanked the Reds, striking out 11, with Ken Griffey Jr. tallying three of those Ks. Out west, Chan Ho Park (really? still alive?) struck out seven in six shutout innings as the Dodgers beat the not-really-of-L.A. Angels 6-0.

1. The sociopathically violent: You can spot these guys fairly easily. They are built very wiry, usually wear jeans and some form of basketball sneaker, usually by Reebok or New Balance. They'll have tattoo on their forearms that will appear to be done with Indian ink. They'll have facial hair of a 14-year-old Spanish boy, yet appear to be in their mid-30's. These guys are the first to throwdown with the littlest of provocation. These guys will even go as far as to attack an opposing team's first base coach if they're really upset about something.

2. The preening extrovert: These guys are the ones that usually go out of the way to paint letters on their chests beforehand — but not before doing 100 push-ups. Sure, they want to show support for their team (regardless if it's 90 degrees or 45 degrees below zero) but they mostly want to show off their bodies. That's why you'll see them walking through the parking lot an hour after the game with their shirt still slung over their shoulder." I don't want to get paint on my shirt," they'll say. Sure, you do. Why don't you show me how you can do a back-hand spring again there, superstar?

3. The morbidly obese: Sometimes it's just too hot for shirts. They're doing it so they don't pass out from heat exhaustion, ending up rolling down the stairs and carted off to the stadium infirmary for a fresh pump of intravenous fluids. They come to the ballpark with a beach towel to use as a handkerchief and sit in a row that doesn't have a lot of people. (They know they're hideous. Try not to stare.)

Well, the Washington Nationals are putting a stop to all of this male shirtlessness in the stands and have now deemed it indecent. Dan Steinberg even got the Nationals' VP of Marketing on the phone and peppered her with hypothetical shirtless indecencies:

Chartese Burnett today; she first referred me to the team's Guest Code of Conduct, which speaks of creating "a family entertainment environment" and includes the following bullet point: "Obscene or indecent clothing will not detract from the guest experience." ("Displays of affection not appropriate in a public, family setting" are also against the rules, which may or may not limit post-home run bum patting among the players.)

And so we're presented with the following question: Could the sight of a bare, sweaty male chest at Nationals Park be considered obscene or indecent?

"I mean, yeah, I guess," Burnett said. "People are offended if you have pink hair....Certain things are within reason and certain things aren't. The world is made up of all kinds of people. We've got 81 games, twenty-five to thirty thousand people on average out here. I wouldn't be surprised by anything."

So, beware Nats fans — your jiggling man-bags and hairy shoulders may get you tossed out of Nationals Park if you're deemed unpleasant by other fans.

Nats' Confront Indecency [D.C. Sports Bog]

After Dukes scored on Lastings Milledge's ultimately game-winning homer last night, Dukes and Acta went after each other in the dugout. It might have been because Dukes seemed to taunt Pirates pitcher Matt Capps once the Nationals had beaten him.

"We want to see emotions as long as you're not showing anybody up...He showed emotion, and I don't think he offended anybody."

That quote from Acta was the other night; he might have changed his tune last night. In other words, everybody ... the Elijah Dukes Explosion In DC Watch is ON! Hey, Manny: We'd recommend changing your cellphone number. Fast.

Trouble In Paradise [Nationals Enquirer]

It's easy to dismiss the Miami entrant in the Senior Circuit. Some have even called for the franchise to meet a Pompeii-like fate. Yet these latter-day Diogenes' conveniently succumb to amnesia when the subject turns to the twin banners captured in the Big Series by the Spearfish. And while the gaseous trashman and angry art dealer in the corner office have taken it upon themselves to swing the demolition ball at championship rosters, attention must be paid to the fact that this current crop of caviar is playing winning hardball ahead of schedule. The Swinging Swimmers are back in form, and their gonfalon flies atop their divisional grouping for a good reason.

The Briny Ballers achieved their latest left-columner thanks to Dan "The Owl" Uggla. The Wise One's second of a brace of Long Socks capped a triptych of tallies in the eighth innings. This Swedish Surprise propelled Santiago's Sluggers to a Seventh Straight W, 5-4 over their Washington Generals (where's Red Klotz lately?), who have fallen a lucky seven times in the eight (count 'em) times they have played against Vice City in the campaign's opening weeks.

The Ugg-Boot was the first participant to tickle the dish, giving the tourists a short-lived lead against Capital protagonist Shawn "Maple Leaf" Hill. Dan went deep in the sixth innings to edge his nine closer to the leaders, also off the twirler from the North Counties. Then came the decisive rally.

Prior to that decisive moment, there was bi-partisan approval for the One-Hit Wonder, Aaron Boone. The Knuckle-Cracker socked one that actually left the green space in the second innings, not his first Deep Drama since the one that sent the 'Stripes to the Fall Classic many moons ago, but seemingly so (for you Chadwickians out there, he has hit 31 trippers since that fabled Fly). Bob's Boy surprised further in the following innings. A twin-tally blast off the ash of Ronnie "Proud Papa" Belliard was itself a stunner, and gave the Taxed-Without-Reps a 3-1 lead. "Shiner" Scott Olsen was seen muttering to himself in a Ruthian rage out on the anthill, and was clearly still upset when the Tidewater Terror, Ryan Zimmerman, scratched out a bat-handle blooper. One-Hit strolled to the dish, and put paid to his moniker by lashing a clothesline that Alfredo "Double-A" Amezaga couldn't corral with his cesta. By the time the pill was returned to the K-Zoo Krazy, Boone had legged out a rare triplet, and the Natty ones led 4-1. Lastings "High-Five" Milledge failed to extend the lead, rolling out to the coffin corner. It would prove a pricey failure by the budding Biggie Smalls.

Shiner Scott reduced the swelling after that tricky third, putting round ones on the big board for the following three innings. But he didn't get the V. That went to Logan "French Kiss" Kensing, who gave up a ducksnort, as is his wont, but held the punchless politicos without a tally in the seventh innings. That set the stage for the decisive chapter.

Luis Ayala was the unfortunate insurance hurler for the N's, and he walked under a ladder when Amezaga legged out a bounder that Wes "Daily Show" Helms couldn't turn into a putout. The May-retta Masterstroker, Jeremy Hermida, then sheepshanked the day's entertainment by jerking an all-too-candid Ayala offering into the starboard stands. For the hapless hurler, not as unfortunate a happenstance as his injury in the in the final furlong of the World Baseball Classic, but disheartening nonetheless.

Two outs later, the Owl licked the lollipop, and the Pelagics took the lead. The District Dandies had a couple of cracks at Sunshine State Pen Men, but neither Renyel "Lemon" Pinto nor Kevin "Mild-Mannered Reporter" Gregg allowed their drinks to be Mickeyed, and the brooming was confirmed when Jesus "Soft J, Easy to K" Flores tapped a bulge back to the astigmatic Gregg. A septenary sweeping. And it is no Deadly Sin to take Pride in the feat, Ye Fans of the Fishes.

Aside: The Reconstituted Rajah, Hanley Ramirez, had a rare library game, chipping a mere bingle in a quartet of plate showings. But Double-R took no small comfort earlier in the day by Hancocking an extension to his contract. The new Monty Hall will swell Hanley's pay envelope to $70 million over the next six years, up from a Skid Row salary below half a million. More to the point, it establishes this Valiant of VORP as the biggest fish in the school, the face on the side of the Marlins' dorsal fin. When a third trophy comes south to reside in the case on Dan Marino Boulevard, it will be Hanley carrying the team's colors over the hill.

Of course, none of that may match Reed Johnson's painful looking snag in center.

• Red Sox lose! Yankees lose! Rest of the world wins! The Sawx had chances to win in the 9th, 10th and 11th, before Nathan Haynes drove to Carl Crawford to lift the Rays to a 5-4 win in the bottom of the frame. Giving up the winning run? The reliably terrible Mike Timlin, he of the 13.50 ERA. Meanwhile, in a non-bug infested (well, less bug infested) Cleveland, back-to-back homers by Jhonny Peralta and Franklin Gutierrez in the 5th powered the Tribe past the Yankees for a 6-4 win.
• Grasping at 'stros. The Houston bats awaken in time to rally in 9th off Jason Isringhausen, finished off by a Carlos Lee homer, to give them a 3-2 victory over the home Cardinals. The six-game winning streak puts Houston at .500, which may be slightly higher if you check their birth certificates.

While the Washington Nationals prepare for Thursday night's series finale against the New York Mets, Manny Acta's office at Nationals Park will have a visitor. Pope Benedict XVI will use Acta's office to dress and prepare for the morning Mass, which some 46,000 people are expected to attend.

The pontifical vestments hanging on hooks next to Acta's home jerseys? His Holiness borrowing Manny's Degree Men's Ultra Dry? Putting on Papal stirrups? Actually, I prefer to think that Pope Benedict got dressed in Ronnie Belliard's cubicle, perhaps even rustling through his belongings and swiping a pinch of chaw. Belliiard returns to cubicle on Monday, finds all the shoelaces on his cleats tied together: "Pope!"

Pope Benedict said morning mass before a crowd exceeding 40,000 at Nationals Stadium on Thursday, and all went well. Except that the Nationals missed their chance to have the Racing Presidents race a group of Bishops around the warning track, which would have been very cool.

In Pictures: Pope's Mass [BBC News]
Acta's Away, But Office Is Occupied [Washington Post]

Thanks to Pete Austin and Nats 320.

The First Game [Nats 320]

We're not going to get too much into politics here, swear, but honestly, has a guy ever looked more sick of being President than Bush does? Ordinarily, when the President throws out the first pitch on Opening Day, he'll pop by the booth to chat with the broadcasters for half an inning before being shuffled off to handle, you know, matters of the national interest. Bush talked to Jon Miller and Joe Morgan for an inning-and-a-half last night. And he didn't look like he was in any particular hurry to leave after that either.

It kind of creeped us out, actually, that Dubya was so well-versed in the world of baseball; he even knew that Jeff Francoeur had been hit in the face with a pitch in spring training. As cool as we might think it is for our President to love the great game so much, we're still not sure we feel comfortable with the commander-in-chief having that much free time.

The saddest part, really, was when Miller asked President Bush about steroids. The Prez sighed deeply. He knew this question was coming, but dammit, why does everyone have to be so negative all the time? I'm at the ballgame, people. Leave me be. President Bush didn't want to talk about policy, or being President; he wanted to talk about baseball. This makes him a pretty cool guy ... and it makes us extremely happy we only have 10 months until he's no longer President.

There may be no parking and no development around it, but, by cracky, the Lerners got their stadium. And D.C. got to chase all the gay clubs and small businesses away from the Navy Yard. Hooray! Gentrification isn't just for Columbia Heights! America's past pastime gets underway on its own shores and we Leitch couldn't be any happier.

Interesting that the Braves should be the inaugural opponent at the ballpark tentatively known as Nationals Park for the one-game homestand. There's the obvious Stan Kasten connection, not to mention that some are saying that the stadium evokes Turner Field.

But nuts to all that. It's baseball! Let's have Lastings Milledge and Elijah Dukes beat some people up!

UPDATE: Here's video of Bush getting booed lustily by the D.C. crowd. Hey, shock of shocks that a city that went 90 percent for John Kerry in 2004 wouldn't give Bush 43 a warm reception.

H/T: 700Level

(Note: I didn't get the running presidents gig. I knew I couldn't grow up to be president! Don't try! Quit'cher daydreamin', melonhead!)

• Da Meat Hook brings some interesting luggage to Nationals Park [Mister Irrelevant]
  
• Those Brits and their track cycling! [Shot to Nothing...]
  
• Taking issue with the Wall Street Journal's manager rankings. [Rumors and Rants]
  
• NCAA says no Gridiron Bash for you, not yours. [The Wizard of Odds]
  
• Jose Canseco and A-Rod in the key of Rick Springfield. [The Juice Blog]
  
• Livan Hernandez has a kick for you, Ronaldo. [10,000 Takes]

That said, we, perhaps stupidly, like the Mets this year.

1. New York Mets. Come on, come on ... sign Bonds in July. It'll be fun!
2. Philadelphia Phillies. If last year was really all this is going to come to, one suspects Phillies fans will be less than pleased.
3. Atlanta Braves. Even though they no longer have the water taxis to Shea, we still want to get there for Tom Glavine's first game there.
4. Washington Nationals. Elijah Dukes, Dmitri Young and Lastings Milledge. We can't wait.
5. Florida Marlins. We will never tire of saying "Uggla."

We showed us ours, now show us yours. And Monday we wrap up with the American League East.

So, as it turns out, the Nationals have removed Paul LoDuca from his duties, which was a surprise to him, and MLB.com. Poor guy, sure.

The White House said it played no role in determining who would catch the pitch. "Whatever the decision the Nationals make is up to them," White House spokesman Tony Fratto said by telephone Thursday. "In no way did we, or would we, raise any issues."

Lo Duca said after Thursday's final Grapefruit League game that he had no animosity about the situation. Lo Duca declined to speculate as to whether his role in the Mitchell report had anything to do with the decision.

By the way, boy, do we ever love that picture.

Nationals Replace LoDuca To Catch Bush's First Pitch [Think Progress]

Dan Shanoff blogs daily at DanShanoff.com, writes a daily morning column for SportingNews.com and spent the past college football season writing the weekly "Closer"-ish guest-post right here.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—--

The Nationals went into the 2007 season with the promise of delivering the worst season in baseball history: 40 wins? We'll take it.

Instead, the Nats won 40 games — at home — and finished with a respectable 73 wins. "Worst. Season. Ever." turned into a better season than the ones had by the Reds, Giants, Marlins, Pirates, Orioles, Royals, Rays and White Sox.

The symbol of the Nats' unlikely success? Dmitri Young.

The burly, bearded first baseman came into the season less likely to deliver lineup punch than punch-line, after a 2006 that included the triple crown of divorce, drug problems and domestic violence. Oh, and depression. (And don't forget the diabetes!) The Tigers dropped him, and the Nats picked him up — only because presumptive 1B Nick Johnson broke his leg.

Then they played the season: Young hit for a career-high .320 BA, with an All-Star appearance. He won NL Comeback Player of the Year. If for no other reason than he became the franchise's most compelling and popular player — the team leader, no less — the Nats re-signed him for another two years, even though Johnson is back.

And so, apparently feeling lucky, the Nats picked themselves up a player who made Young's 2006 look well-adjusted: Elijah Dukes.

You may remember Dukes from his Final Four finish in the Deadspin 2007 Sports Human of the Year tournament. His bonafides: The "You dead, dawg" voice mail (to his wife)... the 17-year-old girl in foster care with Dukes' relatives, carrying his baby... the radio call-in ranting... the divorce proceedings... the various arrests.

At 23, Dukes has already put together a first-ballot "Fuck-Up Hall of Fame" resume. He also had 10 HR in 220 MLB at-bats, making him tantalizing enough as a prospect for the Nats to take a flier on him.

If anyone can relate to Dukes, it is Young. The second act of Young's comeback story must involve saving a kid loaded with equal parts talent and self-destruction. If Dmitri can get Elijah to channel his obvious... energies into something more productive than menacingly texting pictures of guns to his spouse, Dukes could go from SHOTY to a shot at success.

The team (and Dukes' new teammates) seem committed to helping him have his own comeback year. (Then they can move on to working with Nats newcomers Lastings Milledge, whose potential seems only eclipsed by his remarkable lack of self-awareness, and Paul Lo Duca, who has his own ongoing problems — take your pick: steroids, gambling, philandering. Perhaps they can record a rap song together.)

The Nats don't need Dukes to have a breakout year to improve on last season. The team's blueprint to build through young talent seems to be working: They have a ton of good young pitching arms; their 2007 draft was graded as best in MLB; their farm system has climbed into the Top 10.

But despite last season's overachievement, the only reason anyone outside of Nats fandom will be paying attention to them this season is for the spectacle of Elijah Dukes — and the promise that he will inevitably do something insane.

If Young's unexpected productivity and clean living in 2007 are any indication, maybe Dukes can avoid that fate as impressively as the Nats avoided being the "worst team ever" a year ago.

Can you imagine a less inspiring sight as a Major League Baseball player than looking up, while stretching out a muscle that's going to inevitably snap by the end of the season, and seeing this schmuck peering down at you over the dash of a Segway? We do hope that someone tested Bowden's breath before getting on that thing.

There Are No Words [Nationals Enquirer]
The Dueling Bowden Mug Shots [Deadspin]

I've attended a handful of Nationals games each of the three years they've been in D.C. and the composition of the crowd is largely unchanged from the midpoint of their first season on: bored couples, bored families, Hill staffers I want to garrote with piano wire and more than a small smattering of opposing fans. But last year on Opening Day, I glimpsed what, to me, was the first moment of palpable excitement in RFK since baseball returned to D.C. in 2005 and, of course, it had nothing to do with the sport itself.

The team had the 12-foot-tall Teddy Roosevelt mascot president, winless then as now, rappel down from the roof of the stadium in a failed Wile E. Coyote-esque plot to overtake Washington, Lincoln and Jefferson in the presidents race. The crowd ate it up like campaign pandering. It was all people talked about on the way out of the park. New stadium aside, fans still seem more interested in seeing whether Teddy wins than whether the team will finish above .500 (He won't, they won't).

So when DS commenter Becky sent me a link about how the Nats were looking for folks to fill part-time roles as one of the Dead Prez, there was no way my impulsiveness and my recollection of that day wasn't going to win out.

And there I found myself yesterday morning with 30 other people ready to don the wobbly 40 lb. suit of dead white man. Many of them were like myself - nerdy twentysomething dudes who were quietly thinking they were better than the other people there - but there were also quite a number of guys in their 40s and 50s in full Nats regalia (curly W hat, Nats windbreaker, low expectations) and, lo and behold, even two women, one of whom came with a broken arm in a sling.

Broken Arm Girl was quite a hit with the assembled sad sack feature reporters tasked to cover this event, because, well, when you're looking for color for the 12-inch mascot tryouts story you're filing for tomorrow's paper, you'll take anything you can get. Apparently she had broken it earlier in the week in a basketball game hitting the ground after going for a rebound.

"I'm not gonna let one little injury prevent my summer of fun," she told one reporter.

"Well, I don't know. But it's about time we had a female president, right?" she said to another.

It was clear: This girl was out for blood.

There was no Teddy available for us plebeians — he was too busy "training" — so they paired us up by threes for heats as Washington, Lincoln and Jefferson. After watching a few brave souls have a go at it, I was finally ready to suit up as Christmas Abe.

/pause for groans

Whatever preconceptions I had about being able to see while in the costume were immediately quashed. The gauze-like fist-sized hole in the president's neck you're supposed to look through is mostly obscured by the character's jaw, so your field of vision is pretty much limited to your feet. And though you're strapped in, that giant head will lurch wherever it pleases and kill the shit out of your back trying to keep it aloft.

We got up to the starting line and the Nats entertainment coordinator tells us, "Okay, no shtick. I just wanna see your speed out there on the first run." As if my shtick up to that point had been anything other than "please, oh please Lord don't let me fall." Immediately upon starting, the guy in the Jefferson costume next to me falls dead on his face, almost tripping me up in the process, but I quickly recover and bound my way down the right field foul territory from the foul pole to the dugout, finishing a decided second behind that asshole Washington. He'll save children, but not the British children, indeed.

Here's the clip:

Before the return run to the foul pole, one of the staffers tells us he wants full-on speed for the second run but to throw in "a little Chariots of Fire action at the end," which I take to mean running in slow motion and not being an overrated movie from the '80s. After that, we're judged on our victory dances. For some reason, I'm temporarily tempted to try Shawne Merriman's "Lights Out" sack celebration as Lincoln but, afraid again of falling over, opt for some "Choo-Choo" The Hurkey-Jerky Dancer action instead.

Several local TV news teams had arrived at this point, and they wanted to have a word with the guy who fell on his face in the Jefferson costume, because, really, it's not like Broken Arm Girl had broken the arm here. So five minutes ago.

Finally, each contestant was marshaled into a private room to meet with three youngish intern-type people for the interview segment, in which you're asked such probing questions as "What part of the experience did you like best?" and "Which of the presidents do you most identify with?"

Me: "Well, uh, that is, I like Lincoln, because, uh, he's tall and he, um, he ended slavery."

They seemed to buy that.

However, I'll be spending the morning with about 50 other people at RFK Stadium trying out for a 35-game slot as one of the running presidents at Nationals games. Which one would work best for me? I imagine Christmas Abe has a certain ring to it. I'm really just hoping not to fall down in costume, really.

Yep, someone else is asking for a restraining order against Dukes.

Reese says Dukes sent her a text message on Oct. 23 that stated she would "have to deal with the consequences" and "don't let me see you when I come home" and "it's a promise, now make your move."

On Nov. 24, according to Reese, Dukes came to her home to discuss an incident that took place in his home before their split. After that visit, she said, he has been calling her home at inappropriate times. "It's on," Dukes said during a 5 a.m. phone call, according to Reese.

We think it's possible that Elijah Dukes might have a bit of an issue with women. So we'll say this: Please, somebody tell Alyssa Milano to keep her distance. She won't be able to resist. But girl, that guy is BAD NEWS.

Dawg.

Another Injunction Sought Against Dukes [TampaBay.com]
SHOTY Elite Eight: Elijah Dukes Vs. Gilbert Arenas [Deadspin]

They're opening up their new place next year, with all the bells and whistles, and the old dump is shuffling off this mortal coil. (Well, actually, "hosting DC United games," which is kind of the same thing.) Which means this is your last weekend to have this happen. Now you'll have to take your oral sex desires to Florida, where they have 400 fans a game, liberal nudity laws and OJ.

Goodbye, RFK [My Brain Says Rage]
Must Be Sittin' In The Front Row [Deadspin]

It was so quiet and sparse in Miami yesterday that a fan was kicked out of the game for heckling.

"The fan was chirping at the umpire," Nationals catcher Brian Schneider said. "There was no need for it." The man was so loud, and the atmosphere so quiet, the fan could be heard saying "you don't make more than me" on the television broadcast as he was forced to leave.

Ordinarily, we'd think it insane that a fan could actually be ejected for yelling at the umpire. But imagine the embarrassment for all involved, playing a Major League Baseball game in front of 400 people. It has to be one of those days you just want to end, go home, pretend you play for a real team, just get out of there and save yourself any further indignity. And this asshead starts screaming behind home plate for the whole game. We'd probably have thrown him out ourselves.

Crickets [Nationals Enquirer]

Consider, therefore, the wacky hijinks of one fun loving criminal who tried to hold up a concessions worker.

As fans looked on, security guards alerted by the vendor chased the man down the ramps of the stadium. But the man managed to escape the building before apparently climbing a fence to get into Lot 5, the players' parking area, [police officer Diane] Groomes said.

Guards caught up with the man there, Groomes said, and he had what appeared to be a self-inflicted gunshot wound in one of his legs. The injury was not thought to be life-threatening. He was transported to a hospital.

First off: Way to go RFK Stadium security at keeping those guns out! And now: Commence all jokes about the robber's aim qualifying him for the Nationals bullpen.

Robbery Suspect Shot In The Leg [Washington Post]

Maddux had been joking the whole week before about how he the best way to pitch to Bonds was, "you just walk him. I mean, it's not that hard to throw four a couple of feet outside." But Greg Maddux didn't become Greg Maddux by not being rabidly competitive, and he went after Bonds all four times, forcing him to go 0-for-4. And he did it in that confounding, elliptical Maddux way that we've all admired for decades.

Whatever your thoughts on Bonds and the legitimacy of his record, this was a moment to revel in: A Hall of Fame pitcher, in the last days of career, testing what he had left against another Hall of Famer. And despite history glaring at him, he took Bonds four times. For all the other clutter, it was a pure baseball moment. It reminded us how much we love Maddux, and baseball.

We do not expect such moments from John Lannan tonight. No offense, John.

Bonds Picks On Somebody His Own Size [Newsday]

A scene from Michael Moore's Sicko. Nope, something even more gruesome: The Washington Nationals rotation.

John Patterson's quest for treatment on his ailing right arm will continue with a stop to see yet another doctor, this time to get injections that Patterson hopes will relieve the strain on a nerve. ... The righthander will travel to Toronto to receive treatment that Manager Manny Acta said has not been approved in the United States.

Well, at least he didn't go to Cuba: They'd probably never let him come back. And a man of the stature of John Patterson should never be forced to travel back to his homeland on a banana boat.

Patterson Takes Sicko Approach [Lion In Oil]

• They Might As Well Have Worn Matching Earrings. Brad Penny and Jake Peavy did fine impressions of one another last night. They both threw 7 innings and gave up 1 run. Peavy issued 1 less walk, and Penny had one more strikeout. Neither of them got the win, but that's alright, they've still got 19 between then. Both bullpens did their job, too ... until the 12th inning, when the Dodgers trotted out Brett Tomko, who got beat up for 2 runs, allowing the Padres to bring in Trevor Hoffman to nail it down. When a game comes down to Tomko vs. Hoffman ... I like the Padres chances.

• He Likes It, He Loves It. I guess the Mets are just going to make a weekend out of kicking the hell out of the Phillies. They've won the first three of the four-game series, and Carlos Beltran homered twice (again). None of this would be happening if Pat Burrell were still alive. Oh, and Tim McGraw threw out the first pitch ... he's schedule's cleared up now that has Nashville Kats missed the Arena Football playoffs.

• Proud To Be in Purple Today. Look at that ... a Rockies game that doesn't end in total misery for the team in purple. Hm. The Rocks ended an 8 game losing streak behind seven excellent innings from Jeff Francis, and then one each from Latroy Hawkins and Jeremy Affeldt. The Astros managed just 4 hits all game, 2 of them from Craig Biggio, who joins the 3,004 club.

I don't know exactly why the Washington Nationals mascot, Screech, rubs me the wrong way. He just does, OK? I hate him desperately. It's strange, because I like the Nationals themselves, even though they're tied for the second-worst record in baseball (thank you, Cincinnati Reds!). And Dmitri Young is hitting .336. Like eagles themselves, at least the Nationals are trying to come back from the brink of extinction. Screech, however, needs to go. The Nationals are in Pittsburgh for three beginning today, then return home for a four-game set against the Cubs beginning July 2. Oh, Screech ... have you read the paper today? My only hope is that Cheney doesn't get to him first.

• Well That Didn't Go As Planned. Randy Johnson is back, but to tell you the truth he kind of sucks. Johnson, who went on the DL on June 11 with muscle tightness in his buttocks and a sore back, had his return to the Diamondbacks spoiled by Russell Martin's two-run homer as the Dodgers beat Arizona 9-5. The 43-year-old lefthander allowed four runs, three earned, and six hits over three innings.

• Do It For Daulerio's Mustache! So is this where the Phillies make that big push to finally catch the Mets? Jimmy Rollins says yes! He had four hits, including the game-winning single in the 10th as Philadelphia beat the aforementioned Reds 8-7. Your Chase Utley update: A pair of two-run homers, as the Phillies moved to within three games of the first-place Mets in the East. The Mets come to Philadelphia for a four-game series starting with a Friday doubleheader.

• Wait, The White Sox Are Good Now? Javier Vazquez is, at any rate, as he allowed one run over seven innings — with Paul Konerko hitting a pair of solo homers — to lead Chicago over Tampa Bay 5-1. And that's a sweep, folks.

• Jason And The Argonauts Jason Michaels' three-run homer in the seventh led the Cleveland Indians past the Athletics 4-3 Thursday. That's an 11-game hitting streak for our protagonist.

Last night, at RFK Stadium in DC, the Washington Nationals hosted the Atlanta Braves in a game that counted an official total of 21,258 fans. (To which we say: Yeah, right.) With the upper deck almost entirely empty — we know how this goes — one dastardly fan decided to try to construct a word out of empty seats.

At first, our spy at the game tells us, it appeared he was trying to make a big "VT," an inspiring gesture on a grand scale. But that's not the word he was going for: He was going for the world famous "C-Word."

He made it, but ushers shut him down quickly thereafter. Pity.

So, yes, I did ask Teddy if he had ever considered anger management counseling. It would be my last question to the president. When last seen, he was storming out of the room, leaving a tangle of overturned chairs in his wake.

Eventually, we want to see a minor league team put together an Assassin's Race, with big costumes of John Wilkes Booth, Lee Harvey Oswald, John Hinckley and Leon F. Czolgosz, racing each other around the bases to get a gun. When they win, they're executed. It would be fun: Run, you stupid f—-ing assassin, run!

Of All The Losers At RFK Stadium, One Is A (Giant) Head Above The Rest [Washington Post]

First, the Nationals all wore Virginia Tech hats last night, though we wonder how much comfort anyone can possibly take from Dmitri Young. In addition, it turns out that one of the victims, Brian Bluhm, was a Tigers fan and one of the frequent posters at MotownSports.com; he had been set to graduate in two weeks.

And even closer to home: As some of you might know, Nick Dallamora, one of the three geniuses behind The Dugout, is a student at Virginia Tech and a resident of the Ambler Johnston dorm where the initial shooting happened. Nick is fine, if obviously shaken (The Dugout is taking a few days off), and has been writing about the experience at The Fanhouse. We've been emailing with Nick the last few days, and he accepted our invitation to write about the experience in Blacksburg. His words are after the jump.

Through Hokie Eyes [The Fanhouse]
The Dugout
Nationals Finally Do Something Right [Saved By The Blog]
We're All Hokies Today [Politico]

—-—-—-—-—-—--

When Monday's incidents unfolded nothing hit like hearing those numbers climb so drastically. I remember seeing Fox News report 30 deaths and saying to my roommate "This is why I hate Fox News they always blow numbers out of proportion. Change it." When CNN reported 32, I checked MSNBC, who reported 33. It felt like my head had been frozen for 10 years and was just now decaying. How many? Are you sure?

It sounds cliche, but it wasn't until [Tuesday] that everything began sinking in. Prior to today's convocation I cursed that messed-up bastard to everyone I talked to, and in the few spare moments I had to myself I cursed him under my breath. The fiery hate in my chest masked what I should have been feeling, which was sorrow. I was pissed at how a demented psychopath could walk behind me on my way to class, bear left and kill 30 kids at no expense of his own. What kind of messed up world is it where you aren't safe in a small southern college town? I was pissed at society as a whole, like we could all have been that twisted and it just happened to be that guy's day. That was until today.

Today I saw what I eyeballed at 20,000+ people in attendance at the convocation. When the basketball stadium filled they overflowed us into Lane Stadium where we covered the playing field and stands. We were all either in suits, dresses, or our Saturday's best. It was the only time I can remember feeling overdressed in mesh shorts, a football jersey and a cap. We shared, we cried, and we patted each other on the shoulder with a solemn nod. For 24 hours we were all lost, but today we came back together to support each other.

It was there that Nikki Giovanni gave the most spine-tingling speech I have ever heard. She ended with:

We are strong and brave and innocent and unafraid. We are better than we think, not quite what we want to be. We are alive to the imagination and the possibility we will continue to invent the future through our blood and tears, through all this sadness. We are the Hokies! We will prevail, we will prevail! We are Virginia Tech!

The crowd absolutely blew up. I think we all realized just what being a Hokie meant at that point. It's not that we didn't know before, but yesterday it changed and it won't ever be the same again. Being a Hokie means being strong, supporting and helping those around you through adversity, and knowing the rest of us are here for you when things get too heavy.

We are the Hokies and we will prevail.

So poor Teddy Roosevelt, in the grand president mascot races at RFK, can't catch a break: He didn't win at all last year, and he's resorting to desperate measures ... like, say, rappelling from the roof of the stadium on Opening Day yesterday. Poor guy: He still didn't win. The Bull Moose party, they just get no respect.

Here's a great recap of the race.

Nats Opener [DCist]

We should probably warn you: The Phillies are one of those teams we pick to win the National League East a lot. If you haven't noticed, they haven't won the NL East in a long, long time. But we're gonna try again anyway.

1. Philadelphia Phillies. That lineup is monstrous, and that rotation has some gumption to it. We think if they put Moyer in the bullpen, he'd pitch until he's 80.
2. New York Mets. You have to root for Pedro to come back, someday. Not that we don't get ecstatic about watching John Maine pitch.
3. Florida Marlins. We're not so sure Joe Girardi is the only reason these guys came on; remember how fun they were to watch at the end of last year.
4. Atlanta Braves. The dam has been opened; it might be a while until we see them in the playofs again.
5. Washington Nationals. The most fun thing to do is to watch the Presidents race anyway.

You up for some predictions? We bet you are.

We were feeling bad that those Expos fans still lingering around had no preview to call their own. So we asked Canadian holdover Jason Takefman to take us through how a fictional Montreal Expos season preview would have worked, had they hung around.

So, after the jump, Mr. Takefman takes us through the Expos of 2007, eh?

—-—-—-—-—-—-—--

Seems like the Montreal Expos have been flying just a tad under the radar the past few years weeks. I keep buying the MLB season preview magazines and waiting on Deadspin to read about my beloved 'Spos, but I can't seem to find anything on them. What, just because we don't give out $100 million contracts to guys who cant even walk up stairs or haven't thrown an important pitch in North America doesn't mean we should get left out of the party. Cmon, a little Spring Training Love never hurt anybody. So, I thought I would take it upon myself to provide the world with my own 2007 Montreal Expos season preview. Madames est monsieurs, vos Expos de Montreal!

Stop me if you have heard this before, but the Expos just don't have the money to spend on the big timers like the rest of baseball. We simply don't have deep pockets like the Mets, Giants or Sox to help hide our mistakes. We do, however, have guys who can rake. We also have (finally), new owners who love the team, the city, and want to see us win. Vladimir Guerrero, Grady Sizemore, Chad Cordero, Cliff Lee are all signed to long-term deals which ensures the core of this team will be wearing blue pinstripes well into the next decade.

For the 2007 Expos to be successful, we need to eliminate two weak links. Firstly, Frank Robinson, our manager. Yes, he was a great ballplayer. and he said all the right things when he first came to Montreal, talked about our prospects and how full of life they were, and even put on entertaining Piniella-esque performances when arguing at umps. Sorry, Frankie, times are a changin'. That stuff was cute when contraction was the main issue, 1,500 people were coming to the ballpark and ownership was up in the air. That stuff has settled. It's time to win NOW. Frobby often gets out-managed. He makes terrible baseball decisions (he gave Endy Chavez 400 at-bats at the leadoff spot in 2003, even though he had a .292 OBP). He has terrible communication skills (alienates many of his starting pitchers and blows off direct media questions), and he holds personal grudges against his players. He's also known to take the odd power nap during games but we won't hold that against him.

Who should replace him? There should be one candidate and one candidate only. His name is Felipe Rojas Alou. He managed us for almost nine full seasons before undeservingly getting the ax during the 2001 season (See: Loria, Jeffrey H.). He managed the best team money couldn't buy in 1994 only to see the season end prematurely when...ah, screw it. You know the rest. It's just too painful. He helped cultivate so much of our young talent into star ball players and is a true Latin-American baseball pioneer. This guy should totally run the show.

The second hurdle is our starting pitching. While the rest of the division has sexy names like Smoltz, Willis, Glavine, Myers, Hamels, and Martinez we just can't match that firepower. A healthy Cliff Lee, John Patterson and Tony Armas Jr. could go a long way but that's nothing intimidating going into a big series. Speaking of sexy, since you have started reading this, our 4th starter, Livan Hernandez, has probably devoured about three sandwiches. He has what doctors call "a little bit of a weight problem."

Screw 'Moneyball,' or big money contracts to random free agents, the Expos have built heir team through trading away whack jobs. Carl Everett, Cliff Floyd (twice), Milton Bradley, Carl Pavano, Javy Vazquez have yielded great bullpen depth in Gary Majewski, Jon Rauch and Sun Woo Kim, starters Zach Day and Claudio Vargas, our fourth outfielder Juan Rivera and baseball's best kept secret, on-base-machine, Nick Johnson.

I can sit here and say that hope springs eternal, throw some other generic jargon and say that Vlad is the best player nobody sees because he is stuck in the Great White North, or look out if we get some breaks, etc.... But that doesn't apply here, because this team does have real potential. What if Guerrero is on fire and just can't be pitched to late in the season? Walk Vlad in years past, and you were safe. But now he finally has some legitimate protection in the lineup in up-and-comer, Ryan Zimmerman. He looks to be the first competent third basemen this city has seen since Big Bad Tim Wallach was in town. Zimbo hit 20 homeruns last year, and, at 22, he isn't even finished hitting puberty.

Hey Mets fans, after what happened in the last year's NLCS, do you feel safe if I told you right now that Nick Johnson is standing on first base, Guerrero's at the plate, and poop-the-pants Wagner is on the mound in the bottom of the 9th? By the way, first place is up for grabs and 55,000 crazy Canucks are banging their chairs in the Big O just waiting to celebrate our first division title since '81? Sure doesn't sound like a warm blanket when the weather gets cold, eh?

The future is certainly bright in Montreal. Thankfully we've survived the fire sales, the poor attendance and the relocation threats. I mean, seriously, could you imagine a team playing in DC....again? What a mess that would have been.

You might remember, from back at the beginning of the NFL season, when we previewed each team by having a writer we liked write about their favorite team.

Well, we're less than a month away from the start of baseball — spring training is here! — so it's time to do the same thing in the baseball world. Every weekday until the start of the season, a different writer will preview his/her team. We asked a gaggle of writers, from the Web, from print, from books, to tell us, in as many or as little words as they need, Where Their Team Stands. This is not meant to be factual, or dispassionate, or even logical: We just asked them to riff on why they love their team so much, or what their team means to them, or whatever.

Today: The Washington Nationals. Your author is Dan Shanoff.

Dan Shanoff blogs daily (and eponymously) at DanShanoff.com. He created and wrote the "Daily Quickie" for ESPN.com. His most recent Deadspin team previews were for Florida and the Jaguars. His words are after the jump.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

When we last met in a major sport's preseason, I was pledging my fan fealty to the Jacksonville Jaguars, simply because Will needed someone to write a season preview for that team.

Just in time for baseball season, I again present myself as a fan without a team.

I admire Will's passion for the Cardinals, or Jason Fry's love of the Mets, or any number of other bloggers with deep and profound baseball allegiances. I simply can't relate.

Until now.

Will needed someone to write a Nationals season preview, and I was thrilled to take on the job — and accept the team as my new favorite. (I even have a "legitimate" reason to like them: I grew up in a D.C. suburb. So you could say that if they existed during my formative fan years of childhood, they would have been my team anyway. (Or maybe not.)

Consequently, in yet another major pro sport, the editorial needs of Deadspin's season-preview coverage will dictate my rooting interests.

Curiously, just in time for my fandom, "my Nats" are destined for epic failure. My team is, most assuredly, NOT better than your team, but it is vastly more intriguing.

The most telling statistic: 300-to-1 odds from Vegas to win the World Series, longest in baseball. (Royals: 250/1. Pirates and D-Rays: 150/1.)

But, friends, I'm here to tell you that this is precisely the moment to join me and jump on the Nats bandwagon. They say the Chinese symbol for "crisis" is a combination of the symbols of "danger" and "opportunity."

I say that the "Curly W" logo of the Nats is a symbol with two simultaneous meanings — for "crap" but also for "opportunity": If you will, "crapportunity."

Let's face it: If your team isn't going to win the championship, the next best alternative for any fan is superlative achievement. In the case of the Nats in '07, not simply being the worst team in baseball THIS season, which is just sorry, but maintaining the promise to become the worst team ever to take the field. Crapportunity!

And yet even with the chance to be a part of that kind of history, the team couldn't be more enjoyable to root for, even in merely my first three weeks of fandom.

Presenting my Top 5 Nats Crapportunities:

Crapportunity 1: Enjoy the "Natosphere," the unofficial designation of the collection of Nats bloggers, led by Capitol Punishment.

(The best sign: Team president Stan Kasten has hopped the local bandwagon of Leonsis, Agent Zero, Bog, Wizznutzz and KSK and recognizes the Natosphere, expanding D.C.'s dominance as THE capital of sports blogs.)

Crapportunity 2: Pitching, um, depth. If you ever wanted to pitch in the Majors, here's your chance. The team invited a whopping 37 pitchers to camp. 37! That's not a tryout — that's a state-school fraternity pledge class.

(Meanwhile, ever hear of a pitching ace that makes $850K? Perhaps that's because Nats "ace" John Patterson won 1 game in '06. Patterson could become the first No. 1 pitcher in MLB history to make the roster of less than 10 percent of fantasy-baseball owners.)

Crapportunity 3: You get to enjoy Tom Boswell, the reigning dean of newspaper baseball columnists and an unabashed Nats fan.

(He actually articulated the argument in mid-February that this Nats team is better positioned to win big soon than Kasten's late-80s Braves. There you have it, from the Boz himself: The Nats are poised to win 14 consecutive division titles.)

Crapportunity 4: Four magic words — Dmitri Young replica jersey.

(Or, like this lucky dude, a Nats jersey with the number 0 and "Arenas." This is why the "personalize-your-jersey" function was invented.)

Crapportunity 5: It will never be worse than this season.

Consequently, if you're a Nats fan now, everything after this potential 40-win season will seem amazing by comparison:

50 wins in 2008? Improvement!

60 wins in 2009? Nearly bringing the loss column to double-digits!

70 wins in 2010? "Team to Watch"

80 wins in 2011? NL West title-worthy!

90 wins in 2012? NL Wild Card!

100 wins in 2013? Meeting President Obama at the White House.

In short, the ultimate crapportunity means that there has never been a better moment to get in on the ground floor of a baseball team's future success.