On Groins And Groans

Groins

I'm glad groin injuries aren't contagious, otherwise we might have to launch an investigative report into the potential clubhouse sword fights between Roy Halladay and Jeremy Accardo that have led to the recently promoted reliever's trouble with his mid-section.

Accardo wasn't available from the bullpen last night due to a groin tweak, but it doesn't appear to be serious enough to warrant time on the DL. The Jays are going to take the laissez faire approach, and hopefully he'll be ready to go for the weekend, according to Jordan Bastian.

As for Halladay, he's going to toss yet another bullpen session today to see if he'll be okay for Monday. If he's not ready, Scott Richmond will get the start in his place.

Groans

The only thing that can make me groan louder than getting my groin tweaked is hearing one more story about the whole blogging versus mainstream media snooze war. Whenever I read another piece on this I always think of that scene from Billy Madison where Adam Sandler is in the bath and the shampoo is arguing with the conditioner over which is better.

I hate to bring it up yet again. I really do. But how the fuck can accredited writers be so fucking sanctimonious as to condemn blogs but defend peers who seemingly try to appeal to the morally depraved blog readers?

Earlier this week, Stote mentioned Richard Griffin's pointed ponderings on how B.J. Ryan "does not seem to be the same physically imposing presence" that he once was, and Deadspin questioned whether or not Ken Midgenthal would go after Jerry Crowe with the same self-righteous voracity he displayed with Jerod Morris.

Subtle steroid suggestions aside, Griffin really went balls out on Wednesday when he wrote about Moneyball: The Film getting the red light. He joked that "there is no truth to the rumour that the major issue was in finding someone to play then-A’s vice-president J.P. Ricciardi and that John Turturro and Pinocchio both turned down the role."

Sorta funny. Could've been better if he said Sam The Eagle, but I digress. What bothers me is that if accredited writers are going to claim the moral high ground over bloggers, they should fucking well use it. Please don't garner yourself with the heavenly garments of a respected source of integrity and then crack wise about a dude's physical features. Très gauche, my friend. Très, très gauche.

It's as though they want their cake and to eat it too, or more specifically respect and a dick joke loving audience too.

Be careful, though. The written word is powerful, after all.

Anyway, back to the Beej and mindless speculation, have you noticed he's only made one appearance since his little pout after being yanked by Cito in the ninth against Philadelphia eight days ago? His last appearance came on June 20, after pitching in six games over eight days.

Finally, the craziest thing just happened. I flipped to three different radio stations and they were all playing Michael Jackson songs. Funny, huh?

Update: Wow. One of our many Mensa-level commenters has just informed me that Michael Jackson died yesterday. Boyeee, do I have egg on my face.