I think that, by writing on a Friday night, I'm taking a pretty big risk. You see, with Sunday being an off-day, I feel like I should probably write then. My plan had been to write on Thursday night, thereby giving myself three days worth of material for Sunday's post, but I watched Garden State (revelation: I'm in love with Natalie Portman) on-demand and then fell asleep during the credits. Or maybe during Baseball Tonight. In fact, definitely during Baseball Tonight, because I remember waking up at 3:00 a.m. to the intro to that night's Red Sox-Indians telecast on ESPN. The replay, you see.

And truly, there's not much that's that pressing that I feel like I should write. But, alas, it shall be.

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The Cubs traded Greg Maddux for Cesar Izturis on Monday. Or, rather, they traded a washed-up, soft-tossing righty on the wrong side or 30 (and, of course, the wrong side of 40) for an up-and-coming 26-year-old shortstop who has already won a Gold Glove and made an All-Star team.

Or, they became the first team in history to trade a 327-game winner...and they got a no-hit infielder for him, on a team filled with no-hit players at everywhere but first base, third base, and catcher.

There was Chicago media-elation over the deal, or at least elation in the Tribune... the infield defense up the middle has the potential to be the best in the game, after all. But something stinks about the deal. Seems like bad karma to trade one of the ten best righties ever, right?

Baseball-wise, I guess it's okay. Karma-wise, terrible.

(And, as The Boy wisely pointed out, Maddux wanted to be in a pennant race. So he was traded from a fifth-place team to a last place team. Ha!)

Maybe Maddux wanted the deal and, if he did, good for him. But my sense is that he wasn't that happy to be leaving. Six no-hit innings is pretty effin' awesome, though, isn't it?

(For analysis on the trade involving my current favorite team, or at least the one I've got the most emotional investment in [though it's tough to say that, what with the Twins being so, so good], head here. The new guy just had a huge hit, for the record. Awesome.)

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I'd say The Boy's visit was a rousing success. We had four-dollar burger-and-a-beer specials on Tuesday night, then drank a fair amount, then talked about lots of things, then slathered barbeque sauce on our eggs at the Hard Luck Cafe (I did, anyway) on Wednesday, then waited...and waited...and waited...for the aunt, uncle and cousins, then wandered through downtown Ring Fingernail with them, then arrived fashionably late to ASGADOAPBN, then drank more than a fair amount, then he left Thursday at 7 a.m. I believe he stole the wine my parents bought for me last week, because, after all, he needs an appropriate gift for his friend who is a girl and the FIBs. I also think I told him to steal the wine, but warned him that it was wonderful but, perhaps, prohibitively sweet.

I'd say that The Boy was a hit with the rest of the staff that matters, mostly due to his ability to catch thrown fruit in his mouth. Definitely, definitely, a bigger hit than yours truly.

The aunt, uncle, and three cousins' visit was delayed, but wound up working out just about right. Rain in the area cancelled scheduled beach time on the Ring Finertip (slightly north and west of the Nail, as it were), and the decision was made to come our way. However, the time between decision and execution of decision was far longer than anticipated.

So, we met at the beach. Boy and I brought our "gear," but they were overcast-ed out. So, we wandered downtown, talked about family things and update-y things, and walked for about three hours. Well, walked for about an hour and a half, then sat in a sandwich place for another hour-and-a-half. I was highly-satisfied with the visit, and happy it happened. Good people.

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I'd like to, again, all your attention to this recent gurs post, for two reasons:

1) It's got a really nice compliment.
2) It's got a great beard-related story.

This is interesting because I've got a beard-related story. Or, rather, a decision. Sometimes, you see, I like to not-shave. "Sometimes," in the past, has meant "when I'm unemployed," or "when I've got a long weekend," or "when I'm taking time off of work." Well, we've got a far more slovenly office here than in The 'Port. T-shirts are standard office attire (though I always wear a collar on gamedays), and stubble is more than acceptable.

So, with the team on a ten-day road trip, I've made the decision to let it go. Or, rather, let it grow.

I've took my first step towards actual beard maintenance on Wednesday night, when I shaved off the neck-beard. I've shaped the bottom portion of the neck-beard again this evening, in advance of tonight's goings-out.

Now, I should mention that the beard is by no means a permanent thing; when the team returns home on Friday, I'll assess whether or not the beard is full enough to be kept in the more-formal home-game environment. (This is particularly important because, on Saturday, I'll be the dork on the field with a microphone. Gotta look my best, after all.)

Stay tuned to RedHotHalos for more on this developing story.

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I'm strongly considering opting out of my fantasy football league. I've been in the same league since 1996. This is year 11. I've been in it every year. Of the 14 in the league this season, six have been in it every year. For me, this is the only way I stay in contact with these people. For them, they're in contact, like, every week.

So, the reasons for remaining in the league:
1) Continuity
2) The Neat (Complete Dork) Factor: 11 years is a long time, and that's kind of cool
3) Staying in contact with these people
4) If I opt out, a lot of people will be pissed (though someone's brother is a willing replacement, I think, though Nemo would probably opt out also)

The reasons for opting out of the league:
1) League commissioner is infuriatingly idiotic
2) Seriously
3) He can't spell, or punctuate, except in 13-year-old girl instant message language
4) It's a keeper league which, on the surface, is pretty fun; however, we're up to five freakin' keepers.
5) Normally, this would be fine, I guess (though drafting is the most fun part of fantasy football, right?). But my team stunk last year. And I'll stink again this year. I hate stinking at things, especially when they don't involve actual athletics (I've realized that I suck at athletics; I shouldn't suck at watching and projecting the NFL).

Nemo convinced me to re-join the league on Tuesday. His team is stacked and, for all the idiocy, the league always has active participants and always has a winner at the end. On Tuesday, I found out about the five keepers thing. On Wednesday, Nemo attempted to stage a coup, though it only led to one ridiculous message board response.

My main reason for re-joining the league is to stay in contact with these high school folks. It's worth it, and pretty neat, I think. But maybe not.

Here's the irony, or something: Towards the end of the workday on Thursday, an intern who just graduated and is spending the summer in her hometown for the first time in three years was lamenting a social activity scheduled for the night. Her high school friends realized that she had the night off, and wanted to have a barbeque. The intern didn't want to go, and felt bad.

My advice to her: Dude, you were friends four years ago. You've changed a lot since then. They might have a lot to talk about, and it might be fun for them, but if you don't want to go, don't go. No guilt necessary.

The way I see it, it's the same decision for me. Except that I last saw these people regularly eight years ago.

So what do I do? I don't know. Probably stop carrying out internal monologues about what fantasy football league I'll join here on RedHotHalos.

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Anybody want to start a fantasy football league? Show up for the (online, through Yahoo!) draft, actively participate in message board trash talk, and do your best to never start an injured player, and you're good.

I figure a RedHotHalos-reader fantasy football league could be pretty good.