MichaelLortz.com/JordiScrubbings.com

Branching out for a bit to talk politics. I know everyone else is doing the same, but I doubt you’ll read the same stuff on other sites. I’m out of the box like that.

For those who might have been watching the Rays attempt to clinch, tonight was the presidential foreign policy debate. Because I take an interest in foreign affairs, I made sure not to miss this debate. The others, eh, depends on what else I am doing that night.

- First, there is an inherent problem with the foreign policy debate. Foreign policy is the arena of the elite, the educated, or those with a direct stake in foreign actions (i.e. the military, Dept of State, etc). I’m willing to wager that most of these people are also astute politically and have probably made up their minds on who they are going to vote for. Doubtful there are many undecided voters in these groups. So all the foreign policy debate does is articulate what each candidate is planning to do and solidify the opinions of their support.

- Second, anyone who thinks the conflict against Muslim extremism will be over during the next president’s four or possibly eight years is a fool. Extremism can be contained, but it takes generations for it to die out, if it ever does. Case in point, Wahhabi extremists have been around since the mid-17th century and our own Klu Klux Klan has been around for nearly 150 years. To borrow a SportsCenter catchphrase, “You can’t stop them, you can only hope to contain them.”

- Third, I cannot buy Iran as an catalyst for a new Holocaust, even if they did have the bomb. I know there is traditional dislike and rhetoric spoken by Iranian leaders against Israel, but I don’t think Iran would ever attempt to physically “wipe Israel off the map”. Believing in the Iranian boogeyman is to assume that if the US threated the absolute destruction of Iran in the case of an attack, that Iran would still attack Israel anyway. This would only be logical if you assume the Iranian government is on a suicide mission and that it would sacrifice it’s own regime existance for the sake of one attack. Although the ground troops might not have much else going for them (assuming their would be ground troops – I doubt they would see the light of day), those in charge probably like being in charge and don’t want to lose it all in exchange for one missile hitting Tel Aviv.

- Fourth, the fact that Sen. Barack Obama correctly pronounces the name of foreign nations is big for me. It is not pronounced “I-ran”, it is pronounced “e-ron”. I learned that the first day of Middle East History 101. Not that pronounciation should influence a vote, but I think it shows not only intelligence, but also respect.

- Fifth, the campaign to bring the troops back from Iraq concerns me. Currently, the US economy is in the crapper. If we bring all our deployed military members home as well as all the contractors and government workers currently in Iraq, we will need immediate job growth to compensate for the flood of job seekers. Without a real world military mission, we might see less re-enlistment amongst our current ranks. Being in the military will be boring and lack purpose. So where would these former military members work?

What about the government civilians and contractors in Iraq? If you brought them home, where will they work? What if the government claims those contracts or positions are no longer necessary and cuts the funding? That would lead to even more unemployed Americans. And we don’t need that.

Dearly beloved,

We are gathered once again to bury those whose hope died long ago. These poor souls have given up on the chance of glory. We pray, Great Creator Doubleday, that you will embrace them as you have the others.

For these were the middle class, far from the least fortunate, but distanced still from the elite. Some began with promises of bright tomorrows, only to see them crash into dismal todays. Others scraped and clawed through life, overachiever Davids in a world of prosperous Goliaths.

Great Creator Doubleday, open your gates to these souls. For their memories will live with us at least for the next week or two.

Before we slam the lid on them, however, first a few words:

To the 2008 Houston Astros: You were belittled and embarrassed. You stacked your chips in an old horse you discovered was even older. Yet like the hill in your home, you had a ways to climb. Sadly you came up short. May you rest in peace.

To the 2008 Toronto Blue Jays: You were mediocrity defined. Led by a cowboy and former tattooed wild child, you neither rounded them up and moved them out nor raised hell. And now you gallop into a half-dim sunset. May you rest in peace.

To the 2008 St. Louis Cardinals: Bubble gum, mirrors, Pujols, and a prayer. Your Washington, Kennedy, Franklin, and Johnson led you nowhere. Perhaps your hopes, like your stadium’s namesake, moved to Belgium. Wherever they lay, may you rest in peace.

To the 2008 Texas Rangers: Risen from the ashes of chemical dependency, you captivated us. Then, as has been the case for nearly a decade, your talent imbalance led to your defeat. Yet you keep trying to out-pummel your opponents like a blind spitting cobra, using offensive as defense. For your stubborness, may you rest in peace.

To the 2008 Colorado Rockies: You rose to the pinnacle of fame most recently, but it all crashed around you like the Tower of Babel. As we decide whether yours is a case of overachieving or drastic underachieving, we admire your ability to meander aimlessly amongst mediocrity. May you rest in peace.

To the 2008 Kansas City Royals: Formerly classy, you were the greatest “was” of all. There was a time when you were the most elite of elite. Today we are burying only the former shell, the homeless, crack-addicted, former star. May you rest in peace.

To the 2008 Detroit Tigers: Hopes were high for a Motor City Renaissance. Sadly, you quickly became the worst of a local industry’s nickname: “Fix Or Repair Daily”. As the wheels flew off and the Train derailed, you headed towards the scrap heap. Although it was suggested that we crush you into the size of a Rubic’s Cube, I have opted against it. May you rust in peace.

To the 2008 Atlanta Braves: Personally, I have tough time with this one. You have always been unkillable. A modern-day Jason Voorhees. Part of the elite forever, although you would choke at big events. But then you would re-emerge. Now you died early. But did you? May you rest in peace, although I wouldn’t doubt if you didn’t rest long.

To the 2008 San Francisco Giants: Your first year without the support of the Greatest. Yet you kept an albatross. Old, immobile, useless, you remind me of how I wish to be. However, like you did to the Greatest, we are forced to banish all memory of your existence. May you rest in peace.

Quite a few bloggers are talking about who should throw out the pitch in the first postseason game in Tampa Bay Rays history. According to Thomas Boswell of the Washington Post, the Rays have yet to make a decision. Throughout the blogosphere, the suggestions have ranged from George Steinbrenner to Hulk Hogan to Eva Longoria to Dick Vitale. All viable candidates, sure, but in this case I have to agree with Boswell:

As I have mentioned on numerous occasions, I love a good event. Music, sports, poetry reading, cook-outs, comedy shows, it doesn’t matter. If I can go and have a good time, I’m all for it.

With that in mind, the icing on the cake for many events is great crowd participation. There is a great community feeling when you share an event with thousands or even dozens of other people. Of course, no crowd is complete and no crowd participation can be called a success without the traditional heckler. And so, without further ado, I present the best heckling job I have ever been part of:

Best of all, there were no hurt feelings, no negative vibes*, and the Afro-Squad was even invited out to the local wings and beer joint for some post event revelry. Good times all around.

(Exception: one of the wrestlers decided to “attack” me after losing his match and proceeded to sit on top of me. Ugh, the humanity.)

For more, see the Southern Championship Wrestling website. They were great hosts and didn’t kick us out, which was a good thing.

Oh yeah, and check out The Afro-Squad site and vote for me for Pimp of the Year. I’m only 20 votes behind and voting closes somewhere around Halloween, I think. Consider it practice for November.

This post is a spin-off of DWil’s post, Death of the Black QB (like they wrote something new) …, over at Sports on My Mind. I suggest you read that before you read this.

DWil’s thesis is that Black quarterbacks who are better athletes are done a disservice by coaches and scouts who make them run and do not teach them the finer art of quarterbacking. These quarterbacks are not taught the necessary skills to succeed in the NFL – to stay in the pocket, check off receivers, and only run when absolutely necessary. According to DWil, too many Black quarterbacks are told by their coaches to run for the sake of winning and, in turn, sacrifice their development. Once they get into the pros (if they get into the pros), these athletes are unequipped to play quarterback at the NFL level and are often told to change positions to take advantage of their athletic ability. Then, by doing what it takes to make a team, these former quarterback stars fall behind in football knowledge and often fail to live up to their potential.

In his post, DWil mentions the college success of former Florida State quarterback Charlie Ward and discusses possible future FSU quarterback E.J. Manuel. DWil compares the scrambling style of Ward to the possible in-the-pocket quarterbacking style of Manuel and concludes that Manuel should have a better chance of professional football success due to his size and style of play.

Unfortunately, sandwiched between Ward and Manuel has been a litany of Black Seminole quarterbacks who may give credence to DWil’s theory. These quarterbacks have not only had to battle their own potential, but also have been forced to compete against a White quarterback with less athletic ability but a more stereotypical quarterback style.

Since 2000, Black FSU quarterbacks have included Adrian McPherson, Fabian Walker, Anquan Boldin, Xavier Lee, and current quarterback D’Vontrey Richardson. While the failures of some of these quarterbacks were their own doing and others did eventually find success, I am going to discuss how all but Walker fit into DWil’s model.*

* Walker’s tenure at FSU was brief, 2000-2002. He barely played and struggled academically before transferring to Valdosta State.

Adrian McPherson (FSU QB 2001-2003) – Thought to possibly be the second coming of Charlie Ward, McPherson was the Florida High School Mr. Basketball and Mr. Football before coming to Florida State. Unfortunately, his high school success did not translate at the college level. Instead of focusing entirely on football, McPherson attempted both sports upon entry at FSU. After abandoning basketball, he was then pitted against former FSU quarterback Chris Rix. McPherson’s unpolished skills were apparent as he frequently struggled on the field, culminating in a game he was suspected of throwing for bets. McPherson’s career at FSU would also not be helped by a run-in with the law concerning check fraud.

Anquan Boldin (FSU QB 2002 Sugar Bowl) – Boldin enrolled at Florida State in 1999. A quarterback in high school, he was moved to wide receiver to take advantage of his superior athletic skills. Unlike many athletes, Boldin was successful in the position change, eventually drafted, and has made two Pro Bowls as a wide receiver with the Arizona Cardinals.

Xavier Lee (FSU QB 2004-2007) – Continuing the trend of high school super-stars signing with Florida State, Lee set Florida high school records as a dual running and passing threat prior to arriving at Florida State. On the heels of his success, Lee was considered a five-star prospect according to Rivals.com. Once at Florida State, however, successes were few and far between for Lee. In a quarterback controversy reminiscent of McPherson-Rix, Lee was pitted against less-athletic, more fundamentally sound Drew Wetherford. Although his athleticism was apparent on nearly every play, rumors started of Lee’s inability to comprehend the playbook and deliver the most simplest of passes. It may be impossible to tell, but perhaps Lee never learned how to be an effective quarterback. Perhaps coaches along the way told Lee to run as soon as possible and take advantage of his legs as a weapon on the field. Lee eventually left FSU and signed with the Baltimore Ravens as a tight end, a position he dabbled in during his high school years. According to Wikipedia, he is now playing for the Southern New Hampshire Beavers.

D’Vontrey Richardson (FSU QB 2007-Present) – Another high school dual threat, Richardson is being used by Bobby Bowden and offensive coordinator Jimbo Fisher as a possible running quarterback threat and alternate to starter Christian Ponder, a more traditional, “in-the-pocket”, White quarterback.

If the pattern of the last eight years continues at Florida State and DWil’s thesis holds true, Richardson will not succeed. He may have limited college success, but his pro chances will be squandered by a system that teaches him to run at the first sign of trouble. Like DWil, I am eager to watch the coming of E.J. Manuel, not only for his potential ability to lead FSU back to the promise land, but also because he may spell the end of an era of unsuccessful Black quarterbacks at Florida State.

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today not to praise the departed, but to bury them. For they are the meek that shall inherit golf courses, while those who remain strive for glory. They are the eliminated, the condemned. They are those whose bright summer seasons have grown dark and sickly like the colored leaves of fall. They are those who are left to play out the season, settling only for the bittersweet hope of playing “spoiler”.

For today we are beginning to bury all those who no longer have a chance of making the Major League Baseball playoffs. For these teams there is no October Quest, no championship run, no dreams of ticker tape and champagne showers. Only the cold, dark, dismal reality of another season failed.

Dear Great Creator Doubleday, please take the souls of the 2008 Seattle Mariners, Washington Nationals, Pittsburgh Pirates, San Diego Padres, Oakland A’s, Cincinnati Reds, and Baltimore Orioles into your loving bosom. They were among the first eliminated this season, and all are now over 20 games out of first place.

We apologize, Great Creator, for this mass burial. But we unfortunately had not thought to bury them sooner, although there was little doubt of their demise. (On a positive note, however, we did a great deal on this corner plot.)

Beloved, please bow your heads as I say a brief word about each of the deceased.

2008 Seattle Mariners: Unfortunately, you threw all your eggs into the basket of a false god. Erik Bedard was not the answer, unless the question was “what was one of the most overhyped trades of last offseason?” Yet you gave up the farm, while you still counted on Richie Sexson. May you rest in peace.

2008 Washington Nationals: In a town of dissension, you were to be our rock. A stable guiding light that people from both sides could rally around. Yet you represented our nation with the weakest fighting force since Valley Forge. May you rest in peace.

2008 San Diego Padres: You counted on one of the most overrated pitchers in baseball to carry you to the promise land. If not for Adrian Gonzalez, you might be finishing in the California Penal League. The charge: impersonating the proud former team of Tony Gwynn. May you rest in peace.

2008 Oakland A’s: Two pitchers with sub-1.00 ERAs and you are over 20 games out? Your demise speaks more to the strength of the Angels that you could not fly with, than your own personal vices. Even the sheer power of Thunder Matt could not save your season. May you rest in peace.

2008 Cincinnati Reds: You tempted fates by using Belisle Belial. Although the wicked communists of the Soviet Union have seemingly returned, you have yet to give us a Red Scare worth waking up for. Although Jay Bruce may save you soon, may you rest in peace.

2008 Baltimore Orioles: Another team full of promise, you failed to stockpile talent and follow the footprint of your divisional sister, the Tampa Bay Rays. Until you treat Camden Yards like the hallowed grounds that it is, the Great Creator will continue to smite you. However, because I am generous, may you rest in peace.

2008 Pittsburgh Pirates: 16 years of continuous futility? Forget a proper burial, you suck. May your rotting corpse end up in the belly of the Sarlacc, and may you find a new definition of pain and suffering as you are slowly digested over a thousand years.

Greetings, my name is Jordi Scrubbings and I am not a scientist, I am just attempting to write like one.

In the last year I have been witness to a new type of species dwelling in the area of St. Petersburg, Florida. Although many deny their existence or claim they do not reveal themselves often enough for believability, I have seen them too often to think that they are not real. Through dozens of visits to the area and tireless observation, I have decided to take on the responsibility of document this new phenomenon for scientific prosperity.

The sun bears down on Tropicana Field, yet inside the 18-year old establishment the temperature is a cool, constant 72 degrees. A baseball field lay in the middle of the building and although some would say that is where the action is, my observations tell a far different story. It is in the stands surrounding the baseball field where these new, exciting, boisterous, charasmatic creatures dwell.

From my perch in the upper deck I can see most of the stadium. The only area outside my view is a small area beneath me, an area marked by announce booths and luxury boxes – hardly the subjects of study. More often than not I am surrounded by the beasts. They consume me and smother me with sounds of cowbells and voices. Led by a fuzzy whatchamacallit named Raymond, they call themselves “Rays’ Fans” and have outshouted or drowned out every invading voice in Tropicana Field this year.

First, allow me to introduce “Cowbellicus Loudicus Fanicus”. A staple at Tropicana Field, Cowbellicus has perhaps the loudest cowbell in the habitat. Combined with his flamboyant looks and optimistic demeanor, Cowbellicus Loudicus Fanicus is unmistakable. Despite the somewhat aggressive nature seen in the above picture, Cowbellicus Loudicus Fanicus is not considered dangerous. As long as you wear earplugs.

This species here is “Confidenticus Fanicus”. New to Tropicana Field, Confidenticus Fanicus has faith were faith did not exist before. He cheers when things go right, and curses the visiting team when things go wrong. Although most Confidenticus Fanicus are fun-loving creatures, some do try to provoke alien species with derogatory chants and comments. When visitors to Confidenticus Fanicus’s habitat attempt to respond, Fanicus usually replies with the phrase “Look at the standings.”

Here you see a few examples of “Hotchickitus Rays Fanicus”. Although Hotchickitus inhabited Tropicana Field before 2008, never before has the species been seen in such large numbers.

Here you can see “Exciticus Young Fanicus”. The most new of new species to Tropicana Field, Exciticus Young Fanicus carries with it the hopes and dreams of a new generation. A generation that did not have to suffer through the Vince Namoli-era or have their eyes burnt watching Dewon Brazelton. This is the future.

Finally, last but not least, “Jordicus Scrubbicus”, seen here with mohawk.

This study inspired by Deadspin.com.

For some reason about five minutes ago I started thinking about my childhood baseball career and specifically the many “pitchbacks” I went through. I don’t know why these thoughts came into my head. They just popped in there. Kinda like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man in Ghostbusters. Anyway, for those who were not aspiring left-handed junk-ballers, let me explain what a pitchback was. It was a curved net, about four feet tall and about 2.5 feet wide, that would force a thrown ball back to the thrower (see picture).

(For more childhood memories regarding the pitchback, and a few more pictures, check out this blog: (Sidearm Delivery: Disappointing Childhood Toys: The Pitchback.)

Although I never had the problems the writer from Sidearm Delivery had, I did go through at least four pitchbacks while between the ages of 9 to 13. To tell the truth, I don’t remember why they broke, probably from overuse. Hopefully from overuse. I do remember however my friends and I trying to carry a pitchback all over town, from neighborhood to neighborhood, wherever we could find a spot to play ball. Imagine the sight of a bunch of kids, pre-teens I guess is what we would be called now, riding their bikes through the suburbia of Central Florida, with one lugging a large net over his back. That was us.

As Sidearm Delivery kinda hints at, pitchbacks weren’t very good for baseballs, which is probably why he hated his so much. But it was killer for “Tennis Ball Baseball”, the game of choice in the ‘burbs, where cars and houses often defined the parameters of the field of play. Why we never went to an actual baseball field is beyond me. If I remember right, I think the real fields were too far away. A whopping five miles or so, tops. But that’s a long way when someone has to carry a pitchback.

To this day, I wonder if any big leaguers ever started with a pitchback. Most kids I knew that were really good (besides me, of course) had dads who built them batting cages, or in one case, one kid’s dad was Minnesota Twins trainer. A bit of a slight advantage when you are being taught your curve ball from Burt Blyleven. Yeah, that’s fair.

Another big problem with the pitchback was it didn’t really help. It didn’t teach you how to throw fast, it didn’t teach you how to field, and it sure didn’t teach you how to hit. It didn’t even come with a book on how to throw different pitches. I guess the one thing the pitchback did was teach me good control, but being able to move the ball in and out on hitters isn’t really appreciated in Little League and other pre-high school levels.

So this my ode to the pitchback, an essential part of my young baseball dreams. Dreams that would have been so much cooler had they come true.

Pitchback, back pitch
I wish you could have made me rich.
But you were only metal and net,
Not a great teaching bet.
Looking back I needed a coach
Someone who could make the most
Of this tall skinny lefty with a rubber arm
but a fastball that could do no harm.

Oh pitchback, how you failed me
I could have been a Met, a Marlin, or even a Yankee
Instead my career amounted to zip
And I am stuck writing about you on The Serious Tip.

Two years ago, a friend of mine asked me to blog what’s on my mind, so I started this blog that I’m still writing, the wise words were wisdom, meant to enlighten.

Wow. I must say I impressed myself with that Run D.M.C. “Down with the King” paraphrase. Maybe I have a future as a songwriter.

In all honesty, that was the only pop culture reference to “two years ago” that I could think of. I didn’t want to start with the cliched “Four score minus 78 years ago”. But I digress …

Anyway, The Serious Tip is officially two years old today. And, as many people who peruse the Internet know, two years is a long time for a blog. So instead of sharing what would be a completely biased The Serious Tip‘s Best of Year Two, I wanted to talk a little bit about how I started blogging. Think of this as one of those sitcom flashback episodes.

A long time ago (I think it was sometime near August 2006), in a land not so far away (depending on where you live), I was listening to ESPN Radio. Now I’m not an avid sports radio listener, but I was driving and needed some variety. So I tuned in to the local ESPN Radio channel. On the air at the time was a show featuring Doug Gottlieb and some other guy, not sure who, but it’s not important (maybe an avid ESPN Radio listener can fill in the details there). After discussing the news of the day, Gottlieb began to describe his daily routine, how he learned his news and how he figured out what was going to drive his topics of the day. During his description, he mentioned Deadspin.com. Always curious about new websites, I scribbled “Deadspin.com” on a receipt I had crumpled in a cup holder. Little did I know I was about to totally change my sports-viewing experience.

Like seemingly thousands of other sports fans, I found Deadspin.com in late 2006. Also like thousands upon thousands of other sports fans, I read some of the blogs Deadspin.com linked to and thought, “That looks fun. I wonder if I can do that?”. Then one day Deadspin.com linked to Jenn Sterger’s blog. No offense to Jenn (who I have met a few times and who seems nice, even if I maybe the only blogger who has wanted to but haven’t had the chance to interview her), but after reading her blog, I knew I could blog. Not that I thought I was a better writer than Jenn, but all her blog was was her thoughts on sports. Well, I had thoughts on sports too, so I figured I should be able to pull off this blogging thing. And so it began.

My first post: Day One: Growin’ All Up In The Ghetto

Way back when I first started, I had no idea where I wanted to go with The Serious Tip. With a name like The Serious Tip, I knew I could go anywhere. Should I write only about sports? What about some of my other interests, like music or politics? And if I was going to write about sports, should I keep it team-centric and just write about the Mets, Noles, Knicks, or the (then Devil) Rays? I was lost. So I did what I think most bloggers do: write other bloggers.

The best advice I received about blogging came not from Will Leitch or The Big Lead or any other the other major sports blog writers, but from Chip Wesley of Thunder Matt’s Saloon. In a response to my email query, Chip gave me a few great pointers:

- Blaze your own trail: “Instead of rehashing the same stuff the other sites are doing (and doing a better job at it as well), we try to blaze our own trail. And if we lose some people with a salute to Freddie Mercury, so be it.”

- Provide original content: “So many people start up a blog where 75% of their content becomes nothing but quotes from other people’s sites or movie clips from YouTube.”

- Keep the site fresh: “So many blogs will post content regularly for a few months and then just stop for weeks at a time without posting anything.”

So that’s about what I have tried to do. Of course, when I first started I forwarded quite a bit to Deadspin.com and The Big Lead.com to try and get a link and maybe even reel in a few re-occuring readers. But I quickly learned unless I geared my site for their readers, asking for a link was only at best good for a temporary spike in the numbers. Loyal readers to a small independent blog that talks about everything could only come through reaching out.

From reaching out via comments and emails, I like to think I’ve developed quite a few “Friends of The Serious Tip”. For them I’d like to say “thanks”. Their constant feedback, encouragement, and ideas have kept me going. And of course as I’ve gone on, several bloggers have even asked me to contribute on their blog, either through cameo or regular appearance. To me, that is the ultimate compliment and many thanks goes to these bloggers as well.

Sadly, as I mentioned before, blogs don’t last forever. During two-year life of The Serious Tip, I’ve seen several great bloggers quit or go on indefinite hiatus (The Cav, Jack Cobra, among others). It is the sad reality of blogging. Like life, it moves on, and leaves dust of us all.

However, as many of you might know (at least those who read loyally, or at least on occasion), I’ve been recently working with a few sites of whom I have been long-time friends with: the aforementioned Thunder Matt’s Saloon and The Afro-Squad (by the way, go vote for me for Afro-Squad Pimp of the Year). And be on the look-out for collaborations with several other bloggers in the upcoming weeks and months.

So even though The Serious Tip isn’t the most successful blog in the world (yet), I’m still enjoying this. Blogging has given me an outlet to say what I want and write how I want. In conclusion, I’d like to paraphrase Joe Dirt in a quick interview with myself:

Me: So was the last two years a complete waste?

Myself and I: No one’s really put it like that, but I don’t think so. I’ve had good times, met cool people, cruised around, cranked some tunes. And blogged the best I could.

Hope you’ve enjoyed it.

Last year, I attended a focus group meeting for (then Devil) Rays fans at Tropicana Field and I voiced my opinion on one particular issue: I wanted to know what song was playing as each individual player stepped to the plate. I suggested that it would be a good idea if this information was broadcast somewhere on the scoreboard. As this year has progressed, and as I have gone to approximately 20 home games at Tropicana Field, I have again wondered the same thing I thought about last year: what songs were playing?

Although I have noticed a few titles and some singer/band info being displayed, especially during the last few weeks, thanks to the MLB Entertainment website (via DRays Bay), I finally have my answers.

A few notes on the Rays at-bat music info:

- The page lists Evan Longoria’s music as Pantera’s “I’m Broken”. While that was his music after the all-star break, he began the season with Tantric’s “Down and Out”.

- Of all the songs in English, the one I can least understand is Willy Aybar’s entrance music, T-Pain and Flo Rida’s “Low”. I think the song goes something like “the belly-saggin’ jeans and Reebok-twirling shoes” and then “she got low, low, low, low, low”. The rest I have no idea. This song makes me feel old. I saw kids no older than eight singing along to it, while I stood there baffled.

- I’m pretty sure Edwin Jackson’s music is not “Track 12″ by Unknown. I don’t think a musical artist would go by the name “Unknown”. Then again, maybe they do and I am just old.

- Also in the category of “people who changed songs during the season”, I think Troy Percival began the season coming in to Audioslave’s “Chocise” before settling on Godsmack. Usually Godsmack oozes confidence and bad-assness, but not when Percival takes the mound. I’ve never been more nervous during “Keep Away”.

- I know B.J. Upton has come up to the plate to more than just Lil Wayne’s “Lollipop”, but I have no clue what his other songs were.

- How cool is it that two Rays come to the plate to Pantera, both the aforementioned Longoria and Eric Hinske, who after his first at-bat comes to the plate to “Walk”? Both “Walk” and “I’m Broken” sound kick-ass echoing through the stadium. I also think the PA guys crank those songs up a little louder than they do some of the rap songs. But maybe I am just biased.

- Hinske’s opening tunes also remind me of an opportunity lost. Why didn’t anyone form a group in the stands called “Hinske’s Headbangers”?

- Speaking of fan groups, and time is not yet lost on this one, what about the “Longo-holics” for fans of Longoria? Count me in as the first Longoholic. I might have to start making t-shirts.