here's why my job is tremendously rewarding: last night, before the game, i had a chance to meet a pair of wonderful australian women. now, these weren't any wonderful australian women...they were mothers of players who, except for their current two-week trips, keep in contact with their sons by listening to me, every morning. how cool is that?

also, after today's game, i received a call in the press box from a kind gentleman from puerto rico. he wanted to know the score of the game, but only because his son is on the roster and he had missed a game for the first time since his son joined the roster in mid-may. (his son happened to have two hits in an inning today.) like the australian mothers, i'm this gentleman's day-to-day contact with his son. it's outstanding.

in other news, i took advantage of the night off to finally cave and purchase the moon and antarctica, by modest mouse, which i'm convinced is one of the great records of all time. (i had been listening to my lo-hi-fi recording - - from the computer to the cassette deck - - and just couldn't handle it anymore.) it's as good on cd, and the artwork is neato. it's also nice to know what isaac is saying.

we've got a rare monday day game tomorrow. (as such, i should probably be asleep right now.) the cubs are on espn, although it's estes and not one of 'the good pitchers.' in preparation for the big day, i've already separated my dirty laundry. i don't know what my plans are for dinner, however. (i've got a potato and alpha-bits [the better to receive mini-bobbleheads, my dear] and boxes of uncooked black beans and rice as well as some frozen chili. maybe a chicken sandwich.)

I try to not use this space completely for sports rants, but sometimes i think i need to.

(i'm not talking cubs. they're in second place, but completely depressiong.)

the nba draft happened yesterday. the good: in the brief espn clip i saw on sportscenter, tom tolbert applauded the sonics' decision to draft oregon's shoot first-pass second-defend never point guard luke ridnour. (note: i like ridnour, but i doubt he's an nba player.) his logic: "people say he doesn't play defense. well, you know what happens when everybody worries about defense? we get 85-80 games, and i'm tired of that crap." (loosely quoted)

secondly, the chicago bulls, with the seventh overall pick, selected not the athletic french black dude and not a high-scoring wing who can actually play like jarvis hayes, but a weak, pampered point guard, kansas' kirk hinrich. the only difference between hinrich and the uber-soft jay williams (who i hope gets healthy, because he's got a chance to be a player, and because i wish health on people)? hinrich is uglier, and thus less marketable, and hinrich freakin' chokes in big games. i mean, how do you lose to a team led by a freshman and nobody else? especially considering your go-to big man (collison) gets 20 and 20?! why, because your point guard (hinrich) goes 6-for-20 including 3-for-12 from the arc and, seeing that he can't hit a shot to save his life, he continues shooting. put that guy on my team. fuck.

(I'll say it now and i'll believe it: this is almost, almost as bad as the bears passing up byron leftwich, a guy with a tremendous arm and, more importantly, a guy who is a team-motivated leader for the ability to select a too-short, too-self-absorbed, too-system-oriented quarterback, simply out of fear to make a great selection. fuck.)

finally, explain to me a no-trade clause. i thought they were given so that a player could guarantee that he stays in a certain place, because the stability of having a permanent home is comfortable and because he's deserved that privilege of something like that. so why do teams give them out, and then go and try to trade a player? this juan gonzalez situation should never happen. it angers me. it's dumb.

on another note, there was a post-game christian concert at our place tonight, because other clubs have successfully done 'em. i got to watch a band yell: "who rose for us?" and the crowd responded: "JESUS" and the band said: "who's comin' back?" and the crowd yelled "JESUS" and the band said "who's the man?" and the crowd responded "JESUS." unlike anything i've seen.

last night i was talking to a man named bill, a man who works for the kane county cougars. the cougars are an organization for which i would be downright excited to get the opportunity to work.

i was thinking about the first impression - or, rather, second impression - that bill got of me. the first impression came in a cover letter and broadcast tape that i sent to bill in november of 2001. he probably thought i was competent and/or smart enough but probably a little young and not experienced enough to work for such a high-class organization.

the 'young and inexperienced' postulate was no doubt spot-on. he would soon learn that the 'competent and/or smart' portion of his impression was probably incorrect.

this is because bill had the courtesy to give a rejection call...and the message he encountered upon making this rejection call is as follows:

(sung to the tune of 'the super bowl shuffle'...with the opening beat and everything)

(raspy, deep voice begins...)
"you have reached apartment e2
we're not here, but we call back you
we swear we will, and we not lyin'
so leave a message for (enter squeakier voice)
andrew, jenny, didi, tina, or brian (enter silly, slightly inebriated voice)
go bears!!"


i'm not sure if it's as good as "hey. this is tony danza. leave a message for aneel or andrew,' but it's close.

here's the lowdown on what was an outstanding trip with my brother. except for the times we were extremely tired (which happened monday night), it was enlightening and wonderful.

trip began monday with a departure time of approximately 830. hours to kc: 5 1/2, estimated. about 1115, we roll past des moines iowa. the boy had been expressing hunger, i had been thinking minor league baseball...a trip to sec taylor stadium, home of the iowa cubs, seemed logical. we ate at a restaurant that's open all day, wandered through all of the unlocked doors in 'the sec.' saw classic triple-a pictures featuring such luminaries as dwight smith, rolando roomes, and brian dayett.

wound up at the sec until about 1245 or so, and headed on the road to kc. had planned to see the home of the kansas city t-bones of the frontier league, but couldn't find lovely olathe, kansas. decided to head to kaufmann stadium, but could not find it on a map. called the royals line to ask for directions. the boy was put on hold. twice. then somebody else said hello. "i'm looking for directions." "i'm looking for the lost and found. i think our lines got crossed. but i can give you directions." and, voila, we find 'the k.'

arrived at 430 for a 500 game, and discovered that the gates don't upen until 530 (not 5, like we figgered.). wandered around the stadium complex...in the middle of nowhere, shares land with arrowhead stadium. game was thrilling. arrive for twins' batting practice, during which each of us get a batted ball. (his a home run, mine a ground rule double, although i made a tremendous grab.) due to my not having a sharpie, i miss the chance to have former river bandit johan santana sign my bandits cap. alas. game's great. twins score three times in the top of the ninth to tie it up, but everyday eddie allows a run without getting an out in the ninth to get the loss.

highlights: michael tucker taunting the fan that had been taunting him after throwing a guy out at second base. us taunting a couple of six-year-old kids for not taunting michael tucker. the six-year-old kids telling the 'a-b-c-d...m-n-o-q-r-s'..."where's the p?" "running down my leg?" joke.

we found a motel six with a denny's nearby. i bought a sharpie at the convenience store. at about 1210, the waitress said, do you want anything else? i said, 'another cup of coffee would be nice.' as we're leaving at 1230, we discover that the lights are being turned off, and they've been waiting for us. me: "you close? when d'you close?" manager: "midnight." me: "a million apologies."

monday brings us to the negro leagues baseball museum, which was the most exciting planned thing for me. the building was smaller than i expected, but the information and relics were fascinating. i've often said satchel paige was the greatest pitcher of all time, and i fully believe that now. the thing that interested me was the complete lack of bitterness in the interviews and writings...only gratitude for the opportunity to play in the bigs. fascinating.

we ate at gates barbeque, a kansas city institution, and it was pretty good.

tuesday night's game was a blast. comped by the minnesota twins, getting seats next to dustan mohr's family. (mohr's a platoon outfielder for the twinkees.). before the game, i did get my hat signed by former bandits justin morneau and bobby kielty, which was a boon. did not get pitchers juan rincon and johan santana.

highlights of the game include the boy getting 'pounded' (is that the new high five) by sluggerrr, the mutant mascot of the royals, and the boy eventually breaking and buying frosty malts.

drive home was a blast. i got the boy to talk about life. turns out, they try to delay it at nd. he sounds more frustrated than he let on. but it was enlightening and a blast.

one of the better 48 hour experiences i've had.

the trip to kansas city was wonderful. i'll update a bit more tomorrow.

highlights include discovering a denny's that closes, and seeing the first big league home run hit by justin morneau, aka 'the big canadian.'

returned home around 430 this morning, woke up at 1115, returned home from brief errand at 1230, napped until 410.

the boy was in fine form. "i'll just call you larry."

more tomorrow or friday.

the trip out west begins this morning. the boy arrived last night, armed with cleaning supplies from mom, and long-ago-lost cd's courtesy of my sister. (actually, these were stolen.) i re-acquired from the theif belly's king, and the lemonheads' come on feel and car buttton cloth albums, while also acquiring firehose's mr. machinery operator, originally owned 10 years ago by the older rud, stolen by the youngest rud, and now in the possession of the second rud.

also, i'd like to note that i did receive the grandaddy record, sumday, this week, as well as they other purchases from a sunday night spent on amazon.com. i think sumday is outstanding, and i think each of the band's last three (only three?) actual full-lengths are worthwhile listens. sumday is maybe the best of them. if jason lytle were a bit more productive (three years!? come on!), he's be considered one of rock's great current songwriters. i'm talking the robert pollard-jack white-michelle branch pantheon.

shout out to gurs who, in the not-to-distant future, will be in a room full of shaking people with scan-tron forms. or maybe that was yesterday. or next week. woof.

final off day of the first half. the first half ends sunday, at which point i'll be heading to lovely kansas city to watch the kansas city royals play the minnesota twins and to head to the negro leagues museum and that's it.

my traveling companion on this trip will be young steve, my little bro. as you probably know, my brother and i are the most similar of any of the rud siblings. here's a strange example why:

you'll recall, in an earlier entry this week, my discussing the purchasing of moneyball, the fascinating new baseball book. and you may recall that i purchased this book on amazon.com, using my amazon.com visa card that i obtained through junk e-mail. you may also recall that i plan to cancel the amazon.com visa card upon receiving the first bill. (word is that it shipped today. color me excited.)

well, being that my brother and i share similar interests, you may or may not be interested to know that he also purchased moneyball, although he did it a few weeks ago. being that we're in an internet age, it should probably not be completely surprising, then, that he purchased it on amazon.com. this happens. what is surprising, however, is that he purchased it on amazon.com using the amazon.com platinum visa card with the express purpose of using the amazon.com platinum visa card once, and only once, and only to exploit the offered discount on usage at amazon.com. how wild is that?

there's a certain type of character that's drawn to my chosen profession. in order to deal with some of the unique stresses of the job - the everydayness, the long hours on those every days - it helps to be the easygoing type, the type whose first instinct in the case of most everything is to laugh.

i find that the laughers, as opposed the ultra-pros, enjoy the minor league experience far more. (a colleague rundown: six laughers, three ultra-pros, three question marks)

yesterday we had a rain delay. fairly quickly, it became apparent that we would not be playing for a bit of time.

during this time, small talk between press box folks occurs. my colleague yesterday suggested that we go all trading spaces, and redecorate each other's booth. i suggested he remove the tacky 1997 all-star game button from his bulletin board. he suggested i get a different wood type for my desk. i suggested he get pink flamingos and a gazebo for the entry way. this conversation continued in this manner.

this afternoon, as i returned to my booth for the first time since last night, i found it locked. (this is a common occurence.) i went next door, to my colleague's booth. (he has a key.)

he said to me: "i locked your booth on purpose. i need to blindfold you first."

it was extremely funny.



[P.S. - Have you heard that Nas single? - it's a fairly old one... All the ghetto children in the chorus. So uplifting: "I know I can / be what I wanna be. / If I work hard and then, / I'll be where I wanna be."
whether it's true or not is a question. but what a sweet, sweet sentiment.]

combining the amazon.com super-saver shipping offer with the spam i recently received regarding the amazon.com platinum visa card, i was able to purchase three high-quality items for just seven dollars and eighty cents.

these items are:

- moneyball by michael lewis. a fascinating book about the building of the oakland athletics and the unconventional (and highly successful) tactics of a's general manager billy beane. i've read separate excerpts in sports illustrated and baseball america and consider it fascinating enough to own.

- sumday - grandaddy. the forthcoming record from a band that, at last check, produced one of my fifty favorite records ever. [see link at left!] they fascinate me, and i'm purchasing without really knowing what to expect, except for the high-pitched whine that is so so satisfying.

- what's going on - marvin gaye. i've stated that a 'jukebox doesn't deserve to be called a jukebox' if it doesn't contain this recording. i therefore decided to purchase this recording. i hope i love it, although i really don't know.

note: i intend this to be the only-ever use of the amazon.com platinum visa. i plan to cancel and destroy upon receipt and payment of my first bill. woof.

i was just thinking that pop music was really really cool back about ten years ago. i mean, let's be honest, "cannonball" was a megahit, and the lemonheads had "into your arms" and belly had "feed the tree" and "gepetto."

i've many times thought that i must have been a pretty cool seventh grader, digging all this cool music. but i've gone on to many times realize that pop music was just cooler back then.

i listened to belly's star album a few days ago, and i just think it's super. "...take your hat off boy when you're talking to me / and be there when i feed the tree." super cool stuff.

off to lansing for a few days. may or may not be updating. despite an email one week in advance, i haven't heard back from the most talented person in lansing. i just wanted to drink a lemonade.

i'd just like to state that i love sammy sosa unconditionally.

he shouldn't have used the corked bat, but i don't think he's used one for more than a few at-bats ever.

i think any though of this tarnishing his reputation is pretty ridiculous. this will go down as a silly footnote, and a mistake made when he was in a post-injury slump.

he's probably broken a few bats in his day, and none have been corked.

i had two conversations at work today, with separate people (one a red sox fan, the other i don't actually know), who both dislike sammy, essentially, because he plays to the crowd. and i'm thinking, is there any player, in any sport, so loved by the fans? (probably not.) and then i think, is there any player that loves his fans as much as he loves them? (definitely not.) and then i think, is there anything wrong with this? (actually, everything's right.) shouldn't all fans love their players, and all players love their fans right back? (yes.) isn't that what pro sports should be about? (yup.)

in the second conversation, my very erudite friend also stated that writers will try to use this incident to keep sammy out of the hall, because they don't like latin americans in the hall of fame. examples: tony olivo...think about how long it took for tony perez, or orlando cepeda...

i read this fascinating article a few years ago about how (due to a lack of jobs for the highly-educated, or something) american companies are employing indian college graduates as telephone customer service people. apparently, this is considered a high-quality job or something.

they adopt american names, and speak in vague terms while engaging in unnecessary small talk.

i spoke with harry today. he had a heavy indian accent (and asked me how the weather was. and informed me that 'it's been hot' lately). he was helpful in renewing my stolen america online account. (or rather, he gave me three more months on the account that i had obtained for free and was about to cancel because my free time was up. such is the life of a minor league baseball employee.)

a bit fascinating, as i said. although i'm probably completely incorrect.

it's difficult to describe how enjoyable sunday nights following home day games really are. we're talking a post-work nap that ends around six, and then four to eight hours to just do nothing in particular. there's not much time to do this in season.

today the post-work hours included a trip all the way up north to 53rd street for my bi-weekly "it's been two weeks since i blew money on another stupid cd and i've got time off on this lovely sunday night" trip. (apparently i've not been moved by the spirit to buy anything recently released...i considered cat power, and the jayhawks and, to an extent, the jicks or yo la tengo. today's purchase, basically on an impulse, was the cd reissue of gram parsons' gp and grievous angel albums. i'm listening at the moment.)

i think the most enjoyable part of this trip is the actual drive: the windows-down, music up, driving through residential areas with old men mowing lawns and children playing because its a summer evening portion of the adventure. it's very peaceful and pastoral, and i enjoy it a bit. (i also drove by a basketball court that is in a real nice location, and could become a destination point in the event that i purchase a basketball.)

the soundtrack for today's music-purchasing drive was provided by the immortal unstadt, and was entitled "smiles on a summer day." i don't quite understand the first selection on the mix, an alternate (and very choppy) version of wilco's "kamera," i believe a different mix than the more like the moon ep, although i could be wrong. another jaunty rocker, spoon's 'car radio,' follows. britt's voice is a big mood thing for me, so again, i'm puzzled. but then neko sings lead on "letter from an occupant," and then it's the too-somber-to-be-a-hit "july, july!" ('the blood flows down the drain!') by the decemberists, and we've hit stride, and then it's apparent that the immortal unstadt has picked a winner.