And we're back

After a thoroughly enjoyable, active and at the same time relaxing vacation, I'm back at it. It will take me a bit to catch up on some of the stuff I missed, but I did ignore several developments, too. There's no point in rehashing what's a week or several days old.

But let's start off with the Ryan Howard-for-Albert Pujols rumor. I don't deny that there may have been some "internal discussions" by the Phillies. It is, after all, Buster Olney reporting, and his sources are as good as anybody's. Though, because it's the Phillies, it's surprising that writer-in-residence Jayson Stark didn't have this first.

As for the internal talks, someone could've said, "Hey! Let's trade Howard for Pujols!" in a drunken stupor at the team holiday party and it could be considered, technically, "internal discussions." (Incidentally, the well-known near-swap of Ted Williams for Joe DiMaggio that was referenced in that story allegedly was agreed upon after a night of drinking, tabled until the morning for further consideration in the sober light of day, and withdrawn after more clear-headed evaluation.)

Even if the Phillies may have thrown out those two names in the same sentence, and though the Howard-in-St. Louis angle has some merit, not only do I not see the Cardinals dealing Pujols, I don't see him getting away. For various reasons, the Cardinals might not have the revenue of the Yankees or Red Sox or the ability to stretch their payroll as far as the top-paying teams in each league, but I have to believe that none of that applies to the contract discussions with Pujols. Of course, they won't let Pujols and his agent know that, but -- ahem -- internally, they'd better be saying if there's one player for whom they can be creative to sign on his terms, it has to be King Albert.

The Cardinals draw well. They probably sell a lot of merchandise in the Midwest. They contend every year -- especially with Pujols. On the surface, the chances of them hamstringing themselves because of what they pay Pujols are minimal; obviously, we don't know what their financial ledgers look like. But you have to believe that they wouldn't have signed Matt Holliday to $120 million over the next seven years if they felt that would prevent them from signing Pujols.

The last paragraph of that story mentions the blockbuster deal in December 1990 when Blue Jays GM Pat Gillick (now an adviser in the Phillies front office) traded Tony Fernandez and Fred McGriff to the Padres for Roberto Alomar and Joe Carter. It's amazing that that was nearly 20 years ago, and I was curious to see which players were active during the 1990 season and in 2009.

It's a short list:

Ken Griffey Jr.

Tom Gordon

Randy Johnson

Jamie Moyer

Gary Sheffield

John Smoltz

Omar Vizquel

That kind of puts into perspective how often these kinds of deals happen, and the Phillies just made a pair involving Cliff Lee and Roy Halladay, so should this one have any legs, it would be two once-in-a-generation deals going off within about a year.

A black mark

6:42 p.m. ...

We knew it couldn't last.

Alas, tonight Citi Field is sullied by the 2009 debut of the Mets' black jerseys. Gag.

It's a shame they couldn't bring out the blue hats before the black.

3 a.m. update ...

And it figures. The Mets wear the black. Gary Sheffield pinch-hits, hitless thus far as a Met. They're down one run, seventh inning. Sitting on 499 home runs ...

BAM. Long drive down the left-field line, and Gary Sheffield is the 25th member of the 500 home run club.

Fade to black.

Say this for Gary Sheffield: He knows how to draw attention

I was a little behind on my reading last week (nevermind how far behind I was on my blogging the last two weeks...), so I only got to the once-famous, now-way-in-the-past New York magazine interview with Gary Sheffield. Forget about his comments about the leaders of the team and his own ability; Sheffield's always been an arrogant blowhard out to get what's best for Gary, and if that happens to help the team for which he plays, then good for them. I thought Stephen Rodrick's assessment of the Yankees themselves was an accurate yet often overlooked -- or ignored -- by those who talk about the Bombers:

Sheffield is also the Yankees’ most entertaining player. Maybe it’s the glut of world championships, maybe it’s the pressure to win still more, but Joe Torre’s troops play baseball with all the passion of the Hessians squaring off against the Continental Army. Whether it’s A-Rod’s or Jeter’s vacant eyes (illuminated only when the red light comes on) or the unrelenting march of night-of-the-living-dead pitchers, this is not a fun team to root for.

This may be the first article in a New York publication that didn't bow down and grovel before the majesty that is the New York Yankees. I'm not talking about the day-to-day coverage of the team, because those stories always look for the smallest chink in the veneer and focus on what wasn't working yesterday. The way I read it, Rodrick isn't talking about whether the team is winning or losing games; he's commenting on how they play, how they go about winning or losing games. And he's right. The Yankees never look like they're having fun out there.

The Mets may be maddening. They may lose games they should win and be so inconsistent that you figure if they could just put forth the same effort every night, they'd be a decidedly better team. They can dominate a game for all but two pitches, and walk off the field as 2-1 losers, like they did yesterday. But what makes the Mets so much fun for me to watch is when they do come back from a four-run deficit, when they do post a six-run inning to blow a game open. They do it with Jose Reyes sprinting first-to-third with his tongue hanging out. They do it with David Wright unable to hold back a smile after a stellar defensive play at third base. They do it with Pedro dancing in the sprinklers.

For some reason, Derek Jeter can take what would otherwise be an innocent display of emotion -- that little spring-loaded down-and-up fist pump that he does after an RBI double -- and make it appear choreographed rather than spontaneous. A-Rod will drive a ball to the gap and clap his hands while giving a little "Woo!" but what I take from that is not, "This game is fun!" It's more, "Add another notch to my stat sheet!"

I guess I'm just one of those fans who looks at the Yankees as 10 guys on the field, 10 all-stars, playing for themselves. The games that are really fun to watch are those made up of two teams, nine or 10 guys at a time putting the team first, playing to win.

And clearly, Gary Sheffield is right where he belongs.

Keep it simple, stupid

Today's games should count more than yesterday's, if you ask me. Oh, there are no major-league games today?

My point exactly.

Driving into work this morning, a caller and the host made a point on WFAN about the idiocy known as "This One Counts." (I won't drop this until Major League Baseball does.) No matter how much weight Bud Selig and his minions try to add to the exhibition, the players are never going to treat it like a true game, unless maybe you award the players on each team a cash bonus, paid on the spot, and other incentives -- say, $1,000 handed to them at first base after a single, or $10,000 in crisp hundreds collected while standing on home plate after a home run. Oh, and don't keep secrets like a new Corvette from the players. You'll have more guys trying to be MVPs.

The point made on the radio was that Jim Edmonds, one of the game's most aggressive players, didn't come close to Miguel Tejada in an attempt to break up a double play. Edmonds -- a guy who dives in the outfield at least once every two games, who only takes off a crisp, clean uniform on days when he never left the shade of the dugout -- didn't slide hard into second base. And Edmonds plays for the Cardinals, the NL team most likely to benefit from having home-field advantage in the World Series! No one's ever going to pull a Pete Rose again and run over the catcher in an All-Star Game, for fear of injury to himself and the stigma that would come with ending Jason Varitek's season. Ever.

Managers may run the game a little differently, instituting some signs, attempting steals, starting a hit-and-run, pitching around a player. (The day we see an intentional walk in an All-Star Game -- particularly if it's the only at bat a guy like Miguel Cabrera might get -- will be, on a smaller scale, as horrendous as the Tie of 2002.) But you're never going to get anything more than Torii Hunter leaping to rob Barry Bonds of a home run, because he was there in plenty of time and it wasn't as reckless as crashing into a wall or diving headfirst for a sinking liner in the gap.

There are those who argue that if you're going to have "This One Counts," then you have to have every team represented, but I think it's even more of a reason to abolish that representation rule. If the All-Star Game is for league supremacy and is meant to determine which side gets home-field advantage in the World Series, then each league should have its best players available to help it win. The NL deserved to have Cliff Floyd's relative youth and strong arm over Moises Alou's creaky knees. It deserved to have Marcus Giles available for four or five innings instead of Jeff Kent for one at bat. Keeping the fan voting is more important to me than home-field advantage, and how can you justify the fans' collective whim with making the game matter? Carlos Beltran and Edmonds didn't deserve to start over Miguel Cabrera and Andruw Jones, but the fans wanted to see them.

Clearly, the game doesn't count to guys like Gary Sheffield, who in the past only went to represent the Dodgers if they paid for his family to join him, or to Pedro Martinez. (As a Mets fan, I'm more happy that Pedro rested for the games that really count -- Sunday against the Braves -- than I would have been seeing him throw an inning against Miguel Tejada, Vladimir Guerrero and Mark Teixeira. Which he would've gotten through unscathed, which is more than I can say for John Smoltz.) Besides, I already saw him face Vlad in the lesser idiocy of interleague play.

I still love the All-Star Game. I like seeing all the different uniforms on the same field together. I like watching players from different teams chatting in the dugout. I love seeing Jimmy Rollins pretend to care enough to ask Luis Castillo where the Marlins start the second half of the season ("Are you at home?") only to have Castillo shake his head, smile, and point to the "Phillies" on Rollins' chest. "Oh, you're at our place?!" Rollins realized. But you're never going to get the players to play harder than they do now, and to use "This Time It Counts" as a failsafe to ensure there's never another tie is as ridiculous as the car salesman's suit Selig wore during his ESPN interview during the home run derby. Just tell the managers they have to save some pitchers in case the game is tied, and if one team runs out of hurlers while the score is still even, then that league loses the game. They won't run out then.

If David Stern told NBA players that the winning side of the league's midseason exhibition got home-court advantage in the finals, they still wouldn't play defense -- they'd just try to win 150-140. If the NHL ... oh, who cares? It's just that I don't see a difference in how the game is played. There's a miniscule difference in how it's managed, but nobody goes to a baseball game to see the managers' strategies played out. They want to see pitchers pitch and hitters hit.

That's what counts.