You guys have to check out this Baseball Tonight blog. Obviously, it's not written by the actual folks at BBTN (or is it?), but some of the material in it is freakin hilarious. Scroll down to the Joe Morgan post about Arod's 10-RBI game.

Discussing Arod's role as a No. 2 hitter:

"Your job in the 2 hole is to move runners over and get on base for the heart of the order. Someone like Jay Bell was the perfect #2 hitter - he moved runners over with groundouts and sacrifice bunts, and he could swing the bat, too."

Hilarious.

By the way, it took me roughly five years to figure it out, but I've finally learned how to insert links in this website -- you click the "insert links" icon.

Wow!

Two things: 1) It's true, folks: The older you get, the dumber you become, and 2) A really good way to thrust your blog into oblivion is to contribute an average of one post per month.

You'll have to forgive me, guys. Writing meaningless posts for a meaningless website is like sub-zero on your priority list when you're indulging yourself in the wild and crazy life of a copy editor. I mean who needs sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll when you've got infinitives, gerunds, and prepositions?

Hey now!

But seriously, for those of you who have darn near memorized the last post I wrote three weeks ago (you know, because you've checked back so often and seen the same post each time), I'm really, really sorry. It's. . . . it's not you, it's me. No seriously. I mean I really, REALLY like you guys a lot. It's just that. . . . well, I've had a lot on my mind lately, and I just haven't had the time to update the site as often as I'd like. . . . . you know?

I hope we can still be friends, guys, and I sincerely hope you'll continue to check back here often.

Best,
Daniel

(Do any of you guys who wear a tie to work use "Best" as the close to your e-mails? What the hell is that? What does it mean? Best what? Best wishes? Best regards? You're the best? I've never understood that. Then again, I don't wear a tie to work, not since my first day at the Form, when everyone at the desk laughed at me for wearing one.)