This is EASILY the best news to come out of the Bronx in a loooooong time:

Yankees pitcher Joba Chamberlain threw two innings of relief in Wednesday’s blowout win over the Orioles, raising some eyebrows as to whether the Yankees were beginning to stretch him out for a move into the rotation. Shortly after the game, manager Joe Girardi was asked on the YES Network broadcast if that was the case and he confirmed it. “The process has started, converting Joba to a starter, and tonight was the first [step] of extending him a little bit and we’ll continue to do it, getting him up to where he can throw enough pitches,” said Girardi. Chamberlain threw 35 pitches Wednesday in two innings, his second highest total of the season. He gave up just one hit, but walked two batters and struck out three.

So what you’re saying is, we’re moving Joba into the rotation in the next month or so AND we don’t have to send him to the minors to do it? I’ve got three words for you: HELL F#@KING YEAH!!!

Ah nice, one of the great rivalries in recent NBA history renews tonight when the Spurs and Lakeshow link up at Staples. The last time these two teams threw down I was still in college, Shaq was still in shape (and a Laker), and San Antonio wasn’t a dynasty yet. This time around the Spurs have the whole “Never underestimate the heart of a champion” thing going for them, while the Lakers have the greatest player on the planet and reigning MVP in their corner. That being the case, this thing really could go either way. Sure, LA’s been the most impressive team of the playoffs thus far, but Timmy D. and Co. could eek this thing out because 1) as crazy as this sounds, Bruce Bowen has the ability to neutralize Kobe Bryant and 2) the Spurs have pulled out enough of these series that they seemingly have no business winning to do it again here for the up-teenth time. Still, when in doubt, I go with the team that has the best player in the series and regardless of Bowen’s cheap-shots, clearly that guy is Kobe. Pick: Lakers in 6 (at least they better have it wrapped up by then ’cause I don’t see the Spurs losing a Game 7)

I was waiting for Chuck Wipple to say an ode for Mike Piazza, but I think he’s over at Best Buy replacing his HDTV after it met a violent end during the Mets/Braves double-dip last night. So, allow me to offer a few words instead.

Piazza is a first-ballot HOF-er, and is, without question, the greatest hitting catcher of all time. But it’s not the 427 career home runs, 1,335 RBIs, or .308 life-time batting average that earned my respect. No, it was that walk-off homer against the Braves at Shea in the first game back after 9/11, when Piazza illustrated why it was going to be impossible for a bunch 11th-century-camel-jockey-suicide-bombing terrorists to shake the will of New Yorkers… and that day in Philly a half-season later, when he dispelled the notion that his throwing problems were the byproduct of a floppy wrist. Takes a lot of guts to do that in today’s you’re-the-most-awesomest-person-alive-but-only-if-you’re-gay day in age. (Side note: my girlfriend at the time came to visit me up at BU about a month before Piazza’s denial, and she told me that during her flight she sat next to a guy who, “Was the uncle of some famous baseball player, I think his name is Roberto Alomar” and he proceeded to tell her that his nephew was gay, and that he was worried about it getting out in the press. Gee, I wonder why? I believed my girl for three reasons, at least as far as her account of the story went: 1) tell me one chick you know who has any idea who Roberto Alomar is? Exactly. 2) Alomar played for the Mets that year, which fit the story. And 3) the guy was trying to hit on her, so I gave her points for siphoning that info for me while braving an onslaught of testosterone.)

Goodluck in all that you do, Mike, and thanks for the memories…

And with the 6th pick in the 2008 NBA Draft, the Knicks select some overrated European big man who’ll spend his career anchored to the three-point line, never average more than 10 ppg, and be lucky if his teammates don’t ostracize him by the end of the first week of training camp… and that’s if he even makes it over to the States to begin with. In other words, Donnie Walsh just found out how hard turning this thing around is going to be…

So just about a year a ago, it looked like the NBA was dead. All of us had just sat through arguably the worst postseason of the last two decades (or just didn’t bother to watch… either way, it sucked), and as if people didn’t feel like the NBA playoffs were the biggest joke this side of Paris Hilton’s music career after Amare Stoudemire was suspended for Game 5 of the Suns/Spurs series, Tim Donaghy jumped on the scene and pretty much confirmed what we all suspected ever since Michael Jordan converted his first three-point-play without a defender within 5-feet of him: at least one referee, and probably more– though the NBA would sooner contract 20 teams than admit to it– was rigging games.

What a difference a year makes. The NBA better be careful, because it’s in danger of becoming relevant again after one of the most competitive seasons in league history– all 8 playoff teams out West won at least 50 games– has yielded the most entertaining playoffs since the good ol’ “Jordan’s Bulls/Ewing’s Knicks” days. And to top it all off, we now get the two best teams in each conference going at it for the right to move on to the NBA Finals…

Alright, my apologies for the somewhat long intro, but you have to understand– for an NBA junkie like me, this is about as good as it gets (short of the Knicks being competitive again, and I’ll get to that in a minute). I haven’t been this excited about a conference finals that didn’t involve the Knicks since… well, never. I’m not sure if it’s the NBA finally putting out a high quality product that’s worth watching, or more a case of the ultimate effect of the Knicks’ yearly suckiness finally kicking in and compelling me to watch good basketball, but I’m willing to give David Stern the benefit of the doubt here.

Before I forget… as you’ve probably heard, the Draft Lottery is being held from 7:30-8, and stands to be the best thing to come out of Jersey since White Castle if you’re a Knick fan… or the worst thing since Matchbox 20 (update: I confused dead Wendy’s mogul Dave Thomas for Rob Thomas. Happens every day, right? Thanks to devo for the tip. How bout’ this: the worst thing to come out of Jersey since emo music, and people who dress up like emo musicians) depending on how the ping pong balls fly up the chute tonight. Being the beleaguered Knick fan that I am, I’m preparing for the worst case scenario, which would be falling out of the five spot all the way down to eight. As it is, we’ve only got a 7.4% chance of winning the damn thing, which is another way of saying, “It ain’t happening.” But if it does? I’m pre-ordering my Derrick Rose jersey at 8:01pm.

Anyway, here’s how I see this Celtics/Pistons series playing out: in all honesty, I’m not sure how this thing goes back to Boston without the Pistons having an opportunity to clinch in Game 5. The C’s are basically giving tonight’s game away after they labored through another 7-game series, while the Pistons have just been chillin’, getting Chauncey Billups healthy enough to drop an enormous deuce on Rajon Rondo and Sam Cassell. Everyone’s talking about how in spite of Boston’s struggles on the road in these playoffs, no one has proven they can beat them at home, which still makes them a viable championship threat. Well that’s all about change real fast ’cause it wouldn’t shock me if the Pistons took Game 2 either (though I’m not actually saying it’ll happen). Garnett, Pierce, and that guy who claims to be Ray Allen have managed to survive by the skin of their teeth thanks to playing against guys that didn’t know how to get it done in a hostile environment– first the Hawks, and then every Cavalier not named LeBron James. And let’s face it: if you take away LeBron (I know you can’t, but just go with me here), it basically took the Celtics seven games to beat a team whose second best player had more turnovers (6) than assists (5) in Game 7, and he was the f#$king point guard (Delonte West)!!! Call me crazy, but I just don’t see guys like Billups, Rip Hamilton, and Tayshaun Prince having those kinds of issues. When my beloved Patriots lost like dogs in the Super Bowl, I said I’d be willing to make that sacrifice if it meant Boston teams would roll through their regular seasons and then choke on their own vomit in the playoffs, and it looks like I’m going to be rewarded for my faithfulness. Can’t wait to see what fate has in store for the Sox this year! Pick: Pistons in 6

In Sunday night’s subway series blowout, Carlos Delgado sliced a shot off of the left field fair pole for what should have been a home run. The correct call was initially made by the umpire with the best angle to make such a call, but was then overturned after a quick umpire pow-wow. The net result was a wrong call that directly took runs off the board for the suddenly potent New York Metropolitans. While the Mets went on to lay a severe beating on the Yankees (woo-hoo) rendering the missed call harmless (though Carlos Delgado owners in head-to-head fantasy leagues may beg to differ), what happens when the same call is missed in a one-run playoff game? Or in game 7 of the World Series?

Much like the college football playoff debate, there are really no legitimate reasons to avoid using instant replay in Major League Baseball in this one particular situation. It’s argued that it will slow down the game. These games already last three hours, the extra thirty seconds it will take to make a call up to a replay official won’t materially affect the length of the game. If you are really worried about the game slowing down, maybe do something to prevent hitters from backing out of the box and doing a five minute routine which includes loosening, then tightening, their batting gloves, taking off, then replacing, their helmet, spitting into their gloves, rubbing them into the dirt, spitting into them again, pulling up their pant legs, saying a prayer, doing the electric slide, and whistling the theme from Mission: Impossible in between every pitch. Or maybe put a pitch clock on the pitcher so guys like Dice-K don’t take so much time between pitches that I can watch the first pitch and then cycle through every channel on digital cable to see what else is on before turning it back and seeing the second pitch of the at-bat. I’m a Red Sox fan but I don’t know that I could go see a game Dice-K starts - it’s like a six hour commitment. I’ve had relationships that haven’t lasted that long.

Another widely used (and flimsy) argument mostly used by purists is that replay would take away from the human element of the game. Yeah, it takes away some of the human ERROR in judgment. Humans are still playing the game and for the most part humans are still making the calls. If MLB were worried about the “human element” of baseball being taken away then they should have outlawed Barry Bonds’ bionic arm in the latter part of his career (not to mention his tyrannosaurus head – now that is inhuman). The only reason this “human element” argument is given any credence at all is because baseball happened to be invented in the mid 1800s when there was no alternative. If baseball were invented in the 1970s we’d most likely have replay on fair/fowl calls, and probably on safe/out at home plate. (We’d also probably have half the league sporting uniforms comparable to the old Astro’s unis. Now that would be sweet.) True or false: The MLB rulebook says that if a ball hits the foul pole it is a home run? That would be true. It does not say, “If a ball hits the foul pole it is a home run if and only if a human being standing on the field sees it hit the foul pole.” Trust me, way back in 1845 when Alexander Cartwright formalized a list of rules to be followed by all baseball clubs, if they had the technology to produce instant replay, they would have used it to determine whether balls that went into the stands near the foul pole were fair or foul. You don’t see professional bowlers retrieving their own balls because the automatic ball return takes away from the human element of bowling. Nor do you see society shunning the telephone and internet because it takes away from the human element of running to the next village to pass along news.

The last argument heard most often against instant replay for fair/foul calls in baseball is the slippery slope argument. It goes something like this: “if we allow instant replay for that, then we open the door for replay being used to review everything right down to balls and strikes. Where does it stop?” This is the biggest horse shit argument of them all. You know where it stops? Right at fair/foul calls. Write it into the rule. That’s it. The NFL has calls that are not reviewable by instant replay, why is it impossible for MLB to do the same? The slippery slope argument is what people use when they don’t want something to happen, but they can’t come up with a legitimate reason to stop it. It’s like saying, “we shouldn’t allow people to drink alcohol because what’s next, allowing them to drink alcohol and then drive, and then eventually people drinking as much alcohol as they want and then drive while continuing to consume alcohol?” Well I will not sit here idly and allow you to take away my happine… I mean alcohol.

This slippery slope argument for replay is as ridiculous as saying, “If we allow the players to wear anything they want under their uniforms it opens the door for them to wear women’s underwear and then eventually thongs.” Alright, maybe that was a bad example.

What the hell is wrong with Giambi anyway? Back when I played ball I went through some slumps, but the following thought never crossed my mind: “I just can’t seem to find my swing right now. You know what might help? Wearing a thong. Yes of course! And it must be a gold one. I can’t see a better way of turning my luck around than wearing underwear that is guaranteed to ride up my ass the entire time I’m wearing it. Those guys that change their pre at-bat routine or wear a different undershirt are suckers. The real key to beating a slump is letting your cheeks breathe. This gold thong thing is can’t-miss.” Here’s an idea to turn around your luck, Jason. How about when the opposition puts their entire team on the right side of the field you send a ball the opposite way for a guaranteed hit instead of stubbornly trying to pull every pitch over the right field wall even though your steroid muscles disappeared a couple years ago.

A big Subway Chatter contratulations goes out to Jon Lester of the FIRST PLACE Boston Red Sox for throwing a no-hitter earlier tonight against the Royals. Less than two years after being diagnosed with a rare form of non-Hodgkins lymphoma, the twenty-four year-old Lester allowed just two baserunners (a walk in the second and one in the ninth) for the second no-no in as many seasons by a Red Sox pitcher. Yes, I’m a Red Sox fan, but a text from my Yankee fan buddy displays how great a moment this is for baseball, and at the same time shows that you Yankee fans aren’t all heartless douchebags: “I hate the f***ing red sox, but that is a great f***ing baseball story.”

Jon Lester survived cancer and threw a no-hitter. Jason Giambi wears a gold thong that he admits to sharing with some of his teammates including Yankee captain Derek Jeter. Yeah, I’m happy with my choice of favorite baseball team.

This past Saturday I took my girlfriend to see her first baseball game (We aren’t anywhere in the photo. Sorry, all you would-be stalkers.), and I did it up right– the Yankees versus the Mets, with Andy Pettitte going for the Bombers and Johan Santana for the Metropolitans. And unlike the Yankees, their fans were really the only ones who showed up.

We sat with the Bleacher Creatures, yet another reason why it made her first game one to remember. Jeet started us off with a 2-run shot and things were looking pretty damn good at that point. Hell, even a Met fan offered a Yankee fan some of his rum from a little airline bottle (the Yankees fan who was already bombed spilled some and the Met fan cried out that a beautiful, cross-town moment was wasted, but it was quickly forgotten).

Like the spilled rum, the Yankees quickly dropped the lead, never to regain it. Andy forgot he was on a mound and thought he was a chef, serving up meatballs and letting dingers leave the Stadium like no one’s business. After Reyes was out after his first at bat, a “.256″ chant started, making reference to his batting average (which is a helluva lot higher than most of the Yanks’, but I digress). The Met fans came back with Carl Pavano chants… and if that is the best the Met fans can do, especially when the Yanks are stellar in the cellar right now, then things aren’t really as bad in the Bronx as I thought they were.

After a few innings, Farnsworth came in; I could end this blog here, but then I wouldn’t get to the entertaining part of the day, because the game sure as hell was not it. Farnsworth came in and let up a few runs, surprise-surprise, his long ball prompted a barrage in the stands that was the most beautiful thing that I saw all day (save the new facade in the New Stadium…that thing is gorgeous). One guy threw some sunflower seeds from one of the upper rows of the bleachers after Farnsworth decided to suck like Paris Hilton on a homemade sex tape. An older woman who was a Met fan got up, turned around and yelled that her son was there and there was no need to throw things. The Yankees fan who she was directing her comments to was a female with quick wit and responded that she “hadn’t thrown anything, you crazy b*tch.” This set off a series of cataclysmic events:

1. The people directly behind us, as well as me and my girlfriend, started chanting “Crazy B*tch!”, which then prompted the woman to look for the NYPD in the stands and plead for help, when then led to blank stares from the uniforms, upon which the woman decided to show her dismay by flipping off the police;

2. All of this then prompted a Yankee fan to stand up and shout to the PD that they should check the woman’s water bottle. She then stood up and said “You wanna check it, here!” and threw it at him. No sooner did it bounce off his chest than there were NY’s finest up in the stands telling the woman she had to leave. She then proceeded to cry (along with her 7-year-old son… welcome to the Bronx, buddy).

3. The NYPD hearts must’ve grew three sizes that day because they let her stay. After this was all said and done, Farnsworth gave up another long ball and she stood up and pointed her hands in a “Y” shape and said “Thank you!” She was then pelted with more sunflower seeds and the NYPD turned to look at the field… apparently they knew she would be worse off in the stands with 50,000 pissed off Yankees fans surrounding her than out of the Stadium and out of harm’s way. The boys in blue are crafty little bastards.

As for the rest of the weekend– I watched basketball… and I hate basketball, but at this point, I’m almost hating the league’s highest paid team, so I’ll do anything to take my mind off them. Give me a couple of hundred grand and I can bat .180 and make a half dozen errors too. Bush league…

The hard-partying, heavy-metal-loving, strip-joint-frequenting, Penthouse-reading Jason Giambi said he is a Yankee cut from the Mickey Mantle mold. Giambi bragged that his teammates called him a “modern-day Mick because I could play all day and party all night.”

And the Mick just rolled over in his grave. As decrepit as the corpse of Mickey Mantle may be, he could still hit, field, and run circles around 2/3 of the Yanks on the roster right now… and no way in hell he would wear a gold thong.

Why can’t we play like this against the Nationals? Watching Big Brown on Saturday got me thinking– in horse racing they give the colts blinders so they won’t be distracted by the surrounding environment. I think The Mets should give the opposing team Yankee caps because it seems like when play the Yankees, all of our problems go away– Oliver Perez turns into an ace, Jose Reyes turns into A-Rod circa 2001, perfect blend of speed and power… and even Carlos Delgado becomes a threat in the lineup. Good to know Jason Giambi’s golden thong works for one of the NY teams .

Because Oliver Perez’s oral herpes says so.

They managed to turn Jose Reyes, Carlos Beltran, and Carlos Delgado into productive players.

By the way, if you check out today’s box score, one thing becomes painfully obvious: Giambi’s thong is clearly our best player right now.

This issue of Spanish-speaking people ducking their English-speaking counterparts is not just limited situations where Spanish-speaking players avoid the English-speaking media. Ask an INS worker, police officer or any type of investigator how many Spanish people are able to speak English when they’re asked questions, and you’ll see what I mean. And while this issue is not limited to just Spanish-speaking individuals, the language barrier between English and Spanish is often used as a shield from difficult situations (Sammy Sosa, anyone?). So, I sympathize with Billy Wagner when he says it’s time for his “other” teammates to step up and be accountable for their poor play. It sure is easy to talk to the media and make bold proclamations in spring training when everything is hunky-dory. But, when everything starts to go down the toilet, there are no Jimmy Rollins-like proclamations that “We are going to the win the division”… just empty lockers. I guess if we want to hear someone other than Billy Wagner and David Wright talk about the Mets failures we should turn the on the SAP and watch some ESPN Deportes (for those of us who “no habla espanol”).

So you’ve got the biggest series of the season apart from Yankees-Sox coming up, and how do you prepare for it? Well, if you’re the Yanks and the Mets, you play like absolute sh*t in losing 3 of your last 4 games before the 7 and 4 trains collide in the Boogie Down tonight. I can’t speak for Met fans (I’ll let Wipple handle that), but as far as the Yanks go, the first-quarter of the season better have been extended spring training or something, because if this keeps up, I’m gonna find something else to do during the next Yanks-Mets series that doesn’t involve blowing wads of cash on tickets to one of the games and then parking myself in front of the television for the other two like I will be this weekend. Fine, you’re right– I should stop bashing the Yanks and just preview this series. Like mom always said, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” Actually, screw that. If LeBron can violate the 5th Commandment on national television, then why can’t I just go ahead and say mean things about the Yanks all day long? As a matter of fact, I have something to say about every single one of them…

The Lineup
1. Johnny Damon: endless string of broken bats directly responsible for the global shortage of maple syrup.
2. Derek Jeter: traded in his customary inning-ending double-play for the rally-killing strike out.
3. Bobby Abreu: fear of walls likely makes him the life of the party on the New York club scene.
4. Hideki Matsui: has a black belt in hitting solo home runs.
5. Jason Giambi: this is probably a year (or 3) too late, but bunt the damn ball already, will ya?
6. Melky Cabrera: on the verge of setting the club record for most plays celebrated.
7. Robinson Cano: to his credit, has the same “I don’t give a sh*t” expression regardless of whether he’s hitting .340 or .190.
8. Morgan Ensberg: hasn’t hit a breaking ball since Roger Clemens was still an American hero.
9. Jose Molina: aahh, so that’s why the Angels gave him to us for bag of crap.

The Reserves
- Alberto Gonzalez: not bad for a guy whose life seemed to have taken a down turn after resigning as Attorney General.
- Wilson Betemit: could’ve at least done the noble thing and given Giambi pink eye too.
- Shelley Duncan: has ably taken over for Gary Sheffield as the team’s leader in hardest hit foul balls.
- Chad Moeller: makes Kelly Stinnette seem like a reasonable alternative. For the record, that’s probably the biggest insult in this blog.

The DL
- A-rod: needs to start playing again, if for no other reason than to erase the memory of his “YESterdays” interview.
- Jorge Posada: wonder what his contract would’ve looked like if this little shoulder ailment happened a year ago?
- Phil Hughes: getting our just desserts for putting our faith in a life-long Red Sox fan.

The Rotation
1. Chienny-Ming: should be commended for his high level of play in the face of Jeter’s continued name-calling.
2. Andy Pettitte: anyone else hoping that HGH is legalized in the next month or so?
3. Mike Mussina: win all the regular season games you want, Moose, but I’m still firmly entrenched in the “I’m absolutely, positively crapping myself when you face Manny in the first-inning of Game 3 of the ALCS with 2-on and no one out” camp (not that we’ll actually get that far, obviously).
4. Darrell Rasner: Aaron Small 2k8. Obviously not a bad thing.
5(a). Ian Kennedy: should reconsider quitting his day job as Alfred E. Neuman’s stunt double.
5(b). Kei Igawa: at least we aren’t forced to watch Pavano waste $40+ million.

The ‘Pen
- LaTroy Hawkins: if stealing a revered Yankees’ number– and then giving it up– is the highlight of your career, well then you’ve got bigger problems than being called out in this blog.
- Ross Ohlendorf: proof positive that an Ivy League education (Princeton) guarantees you a six-figure salary.
- Chris Britton: supposedly the Yanks designated Billy Traber for assignment. I’m pretty positive Britton just ate him.
- Kyle Farnsworth: just a hanging slider away from being your least favorite Yankee again.
- Edwar Ramirez: stole Farnsworth’s goggles, hopefully with better results.
- Jose Veras: are you as shocked as I am that his arm hasn’t landed at home plate yet?
- Joba Chamberlain: that fist-pump will come in handy if and when we brawl with the Sox or Rays this year.
- Mo: as the artist formerly known as Puff Daddy once said, “Mo’ money, Mo’ saves.”

Alright, well that’s about all from me… until the Yanks go 0-21,325 with runners-in-scoring-position tonight. Oh, my prediction? Ah, what the hell– the Yanks sweep a big series. I mean they have to at some point, don’t they?

but, please, Barack Obama, quit yer bitchin’:

In his speech to the Knesset on the 60th anniversary of the founding of the state of Israel, Bush said anyone who claims that talking with terrorists will result in peace is experiencing a “foolish delusion.”

Obama swiftly criticized Bush for a “false political attack” and said the president’s foreign policy has failed to secure the U.S. or Israel.

Dude, you’re running for president and, for better or worse, opening yourself up to criticism with every word you utter. F#@king deal with it. I mean seriously, you don’t even have to mention Obama by name and he turns into the biggest nag this side of your ex-girlfriend. Question (indirectly) his naive foreign policy platform, and you’re obviously launching “false (actually accurate) political attacks.” Claim that he can only win the support of African-Americans and the liberal elite, who, by the way, have no idea what a gas tax is because they’re so filthy rich they have no idea they’re even paying it? Then you’re obviously a “race-bater,” or any other catchy word that liberals can come up with to make you seem like the villainous cad that you are (i.e. close-minded, hate-monger, etc., etc.). Ask him about his thoughts on Jimmy Carter’s meeting with Hamas during a campaign stop, and well, you’re obviously a heartless, inconsiderate creep for not letting him “just eat his waffles.” I’m all for change in this country, but if “change” means that we have to listen to this guy cry himself a f@#king river like a wanna-be prom queen every time someone questions him over the next four years, then count me out.