Arizona’s Maricopa County is sheriffed (a word that doesn’t exist, but if it did, would be used primarily in the Southwest United States) by Joe Arpaio, the country’s self-proclaimed “toughest sheriff.” He runs the nation’s only female chain gang and he’s got plans for Arizona’s most recent female DUI convicts: head to the All-Star Game!

It turns out Arpaio wasn’t tough enough to fend off the mounting pressures to keep his lady chain gang away from an All-Star event that already carried with it the promise of protesters picketing America’s most Latino-heavy sport because of the state’s controversial immigration law, Senate Bill 1070. The chain gang will return to the area Wednesday instead where only the Chase Field cleanup crew will notice. Hopefully the irony that the chain gang belonging to Arpaio – a fervent supporter of anti-immigration governance – is going to be doing the impinge upon the cleanup jobs the U.S. citizens employed by Chase Field were hired to do is not lost on ol’ Hard Nosed Joe.

Pardon me, but in sifting through Arpaio’s transparent publicity grab, I was hoping he’d incorporate some Russ Meyer-style members of the chain gang; if he’s going to get exploitative, go all the way. Alas, Arpaio’s only plan was to haul in a group of women convicted of driving while under the influence, and sentenced to doing community service,  dress them up in jumpsuits and pink t-shirts with messages about drunk driving and have them pick up trash outside the stadium. Super tough, Joe. Super tough.

Five-to-one odds has Arpaio getting snippy with at least one of the anticipated protesters scheduled to picket outside tonight’s All-Star Game.

Here’s Arpiao’s Twitter account if you’re in to mildly biggoted blithering from a man who’s been playing Roscoe P. Coltrane for the last 19 years.

Look, it ain’t no secret that I’m a big, big fan of Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band. Go ahead and peruse the site if you don’t believe me. But I’ve got a job to do and can’t go on and on about Clarence Clemons and what he meant to me and many others.

So instead, you get this.

With the start of the 2011 baseball season just a matter of hours away, it behooved me turn your attention to a couple things: 1) the Wall Street Journal wrote one heckuva feature on Arizona’s bullpen catcher and “human garbage can” Jeff Motuzas, 2) The D.C. Sports Blog followed up with a brief but killer spotlight on Motuzas’ clubhouse partnership with the Nationals’ Opening Day starter Livan Hernandez, and c) there is no “c.” The first two were numbers, remember?

The long and short of it is that these two ballplayers in the mold of “It’s Always sunny In Philadelphia’s” Mac and Dennis have a hot imagination and the fire to fill it.

Over the course of the 162 games Hernandez and Motuzas occupied the same clubhouse between the 2006 and 2007 seasons, Hernandez abused Motuzas in about as many ways as a dude ca abuse the other dude without being in love with the dude even just a little.

To wit:

• Hernandez once paid Motuzas $3,000 to drink a gallon of milk in 12 minutes (impossible without yakking at least 1/3 of it up)
• The two also agreed that Hernandez could punch Motuzas in the groin for $50 a pop whenever he needed to … you know … punch someone in the junk.*
• Motuzas would allow Hernandez to blindfold him (bad idea #1), and whip him with a pair of rubber nunchucks he received from a fan (weird bad idea #2) on more than one occasion (bad idea #3).

That last one was also for money. At least Motuzas wasn’t allowing all this to happen for free. I mean, Hernandez was making $7 million in ’07, while Motuzas was making high five-figures, low six-figures. Brothers gotta eat, right?

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* Motuzas would receive a $300 bonus after every 10th punch. I originally scoffed at the idea of earning $800 for 10 crotch punches, but it’s unclear how much protection Motuzas was allowed to have. For all we know he could wear three cups, stuff a pillow down there and wrap his schwantz in a tube sock. We don’t know. At any rate, I think it would be a special kind of challenge to earn the $50 and not commit myself to a life without the ability to bear children.

So what did he say? His 52 homers in ’56? Any of his seven World Series victories? His back-to-back MVP awards? Close. Assuming you consider sexual relations underneath the Yankee Stadium bleachers “close.”

Four years after Mickey Mantle played his final games in New York pinstripes, then-Vice-President of the team, Bob Fishel, sent the request to Mantle. Below is the surprisingly NSFW interaction that I’m pretty sure was never used:

Click to enlarge

Okay. Couple things. First thing: sorry for not giving you more warning about the language. Having read that over again, perhaps you should have had a better heads up. Second thing: I’m calling shenanigans on this tale right away, as there’s no way the entire Yankee bullpen blew Mick under the right field bleachers without anyone knowing before 1972. Third thing: I’m going to start putting asterisks near my signature. Fourth thing: How many times do you think Mantle used that advice line on a woman? I’m saying no fewer than 12.

Fifth thing: Derek Jeter’s response to that question in another decade is gonna be awesome!

Turns out, asking celebrities questions they’ve heard a thousand times before can also make them think you’re nuts if you ask them in certain situations. Like, say, in the bottom of the fifth inning during Game 3 of the ALCS.

Grim LaRogue, a name legally changed from Joe Rogan (nope, not that Joe Rogan), hopped the Yankee Stadium wall and darted toward New York’s frosted-tip third baseman Alex Rodriguez. Initially, he just seemed nutty. Frankly, he just seemed like a Yankee fan. What fan wouldn’t want to talk to A-Rod?

You know ... like Yankee fans do.

According to LaRogue, he was jealous of Rodriguez’s relationship with actress Cameron Diaz (you know, from “My Sister’s Keeper”) and wanted to talk it over. See if some sort of deal couldn’t be worked out so. He had numerous pictures of Rodriguez on his person when he made his mad dash, including one with an X scrawled across his face and a gun pointing to his head. That’s not too shocking, I mean, most Red Sox fans carry one of those in their wallet too, but on the backside of the picture was the charming message, “You have to go bud, you’ve ruined too many of our white queens.”

To be fair, I’m not sure A-Rod was ever white. I can’t speak to the amount of time he’s spent in Coney Island, however.

Crackpots run out onto the field all the time. That’s not really newsworthy. What is newsworthy is that this particular crackpot ran onto this particular field because he’s upset Rodriguez has “ruined” too many famous white girls. Firstly, has he ever seen Cameron Diaz outside of a Hollywood movie? I’m pretty sure she does her makeup with her feet. Secondly, who are these other white queens to whom LaRogue is referring? I know he doesn’t mean Madonna or Kate Hudson. If he does, this man is far more insane than any of us imagined. And thirdly, LaRogue was aware that Rodriguez was standing and is always standing 30 feet away from Derek Jeter, right? Derek Jeter who has dated Jessica Biel, Mariah Carey and Minka Kelly? Look I’m not saying LaRogue should have gone after Jeter …

… Actually, yes. Yes I am saying that.

… What’s that? Oh. Sidelines’ legal department says I must tell you that I am not actually saying that.

LaRogue didn’t even need to get arrested to let the world know that much. Had he just turned to the person sitting next to him and said he was a 33-year-old man whose racist jealousy was sarked by Cameron Diaz and not Minka Kelly, that would have done it. And if not that, perhaps letting everyone know he had ust completed a “700 page novel about a ninja or something”(as his mother described it) would have tipped them off to how bonkers he is.

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Photos courtesy of Reuters

Another such ump flub happened Wednesday night in Game 1 of the ALDS, but you won’t hear about it because it involved the Yankees.

With two outs in the bottom of the ninth, Minnesota’s Delmon Young dug in against Yankees closer Mariano Rivera. Mo hurled the 0-2 pitch, Young swung and blooped it into short right field. The Yankees had just inserted defensive specialist Greg Golson into right for the final inning. Golson charged in toward the short fly, bent low and caught the ball. The umps ruled that he trapped it.

He didn’t. Every replay from every angle shows that Golson caught the ball. Neverthewho, Young stood on first and Jim Thome was allowed to take his swings representing the Twins’ tying run. Thome swung at the first pitch, popped it up to Alex Rodriguez at third and the game was over.  Yankees win, no harm done. Let’s all go back to talking about how stupendous Roy Halladay is (because make no mistake, Roy Halladay IS stupendous).

Only one of last postseason’s officiating blunders resulted directly in a win for the other team, yet much was made of the possibility of such outcomes being altered. Yet nothing has been made of Golson’s non-catch call. Half of it is because the only effect on the game’s result was that it lasted five minutes longer than it should have. Why make a big deal out of nothing? Well, because it was one Thome connection away from not being about nothing. Golson caught that ball. And despite every Yankee in the infield alerting the umps that there were no grass scuffs on the ball, and despite the entire ump crew huddling together for 30 seconds to discuss … what? How to effectively appear as if they’re considering changing a call in the Yankees favor in front of 50,000 Twins fans? Besides botching the call in the first place (it happens), the crew made the right decision. You can’t switch that call in that situation. But what about in future situations? The Yankees were supposed to win Game 1 and they did, so who cares? Well, no one. No one outside of the Bronx is going to come to the defense of the Yankees. No matter what Teixeria and Rodriguez say, they’re not underdogs. They’re never underdogs. They won’t ever “deserve” any help. But if that situation were reversed, and the Yankees got a second chance to tie up the game in the bottom of the ninth, the world would be aflame in a chorus of bloggers demanding a furtherance in the use of instant replay.

Thome didn’t pop that home run, but he could have. Next time this situation arises, it might happen. Wouldn’t it be nice if baseball reviewed any questionable call and not just a specific type of questionable call? It would, just not when it helps the Yankees, I guess.

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Yes, that IS Hamilton in a bar just last year. Nope, don't know what brand of whipped topping it is.

With their win tonight against Seattle, the Texas Rangers are silently, contemplatively thinking about that magic number; the number that, if reached, would put the team in the playoffs for the first time in 11 seasons. No one is talking about the seven wins they need to ensure a spot in the playoffs, but maybe someone ought to, because there’s a big issue awaiting them when they do.

The Rangers’ all-star (and potential MVP candidate) Josh Hamilton has built a likable and marketable persona around his addiction, recover, relapse, and second recovery from both drugs and alcohol over the course of his four season career. So what happens if (when) the Rangers clinch their division, ensconce their locker room in plastic and poor booze all over one another for 40 minutes? It’s going to look a lot like the picture above, except that Cliff Lee is way foxier than the blonde.

For his part, Hamilton has already said he’s thought about it.

“I’m going to have goggles on, duct tape over the mouth and either a wetsuit or raincoat,” Hamilton said. “It can’t get on your skin. It’ll soak through your skin. I don’t want to send the wrong message to people who might see pictures and think I’m not serious about recovery or what it stands for.”

I don’t know about soaking through one’s skin, but I’ve definately perspired my fair share of beer. But I digress. I worry that a bundled and wrapped Hamilton isn’t good enough. One of the first steps toward recovery is removing yourself from temptation. Hamilton will literally be soaking in temptation.

I can’t imagine that Hamilton will have a Barney Gumble moment upon clinching the division, but it begs the question whether the Rangers organization has any duty toward replacing that champagne with sparkling cider or the Bud Light with O’Doul’s. Hamilton is certainly not the first ballplayer on a playoff team that had addiction issues, but he’s the one that’s been most public about it and he’s about two weeks away from having his picture taken being soaked in booze. Pictures mean something in the sports world, lest I remind you that Gilbert Arenas missed 50 games last year in part because of this one. Hamilton is the team’s most valuable player. Easily. He’s the reason they’re in a position to pop corks in the first place. So when a situation arises where it can either be all for one or one for all – but not both – which half of the Musketeers’ adage wins out?

Honestly, which one should win out?

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I’m sorry. This is not who I thought it was. And the little boy in me just died a bit from the realization that the only person that got fatter and uglier than Elton John in the last 40 years seems to be Pete Rose.

As you were.

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It’s, like, extremely awkward.

“Third base person” sounds like something my Mom would call the player right after she commented on the team “costumes.” “Third bassist” sounds like what you are if you’re in high school jazz band. “Third basewoman” sounds like a gal willing to give you a good time, but not willing to give you the best time, if you know what I mean.  All I’m saying is, this story is about a woman named Cheuk Yoon Yee Sinny who plays third base for the Women’s Hong Kong national team and was randomly shot in the leg and the most difficult thing to wrap my head around is exactly how to label her. That probably says more about the state of Venezuela than anyone would want it to.

Take it away Reuters:

Vice President Elias Jaua said the player was hit in the leg during a game against the Netherlands in a stadium at a military base in Caracas on Friday. She was taken to the base’s medical center for treatment but was not seriously hurt.

… Venezuela has one of the continent’s highest crime rates, and many residents carry firearms.

Jaua said the player had been struck by “an object similar to a stray bullet” during the game on the second day of the tournament.

Although the remainder of that game and the rest of the scheduled games were postponed, the– wait, what? Did that quote say Woon Yee was struck with an “object similar to a stray bullet?” Scroll up a second, will ya? What the hell does that mean? The only objects similar to stray bullets are ones shot on purpose. Land sakes. Woon Yee was discharged from the hospital after a brief stay and will make a full recovery, but she can’t possibly enjoy hearing the attempt at spin coming from the Venezuelan vice president. Oh, not to worry that was most certainly not a stray bullet you were struck by. That bullet had your name written all over it.

Sweet dreams.

A full investigation is being conducted in order to locate the origin of the bullet and Baseball’s 12-team World Cup will make up for its lost games in the coming week.

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Photo courtesy of Flickr

From the Elias Sports Bureau:

The Reds completed a three-game sweep of the Marlins (by scores of 7-2, 5-4 and 2-0) while keeping Florida hitless in 27 at-bats with runners in scoring position over the weekend. The Marlins were the first team to be swept in a series of at least three games while going 0-for-8 or worse with runners in scoring position in each game since the Expos dropped a three-game set at Wrigley Field, May 31-June 2, 1991.

For the sleepy among you, let’s nail down exactly what this means. It means that for three straight games – one full game of at-bats, by the way – the Florida Marlins failed to get a guy standing at either second or third base over to home. To put it yet another way for both the slow and the bored, the Reds, over the course of three days, threw a no-hitter while someone was standing at least on second.

That’s like … that’s like … that’s like putting an injured mouse in a boa constrictor cage and the boa, um, FAILING TO SCORE A SINGLE RUN IN 27 TRIES!

And Elias, they of the most barrel-scraping statistical abnormalities on Earth, had to go back almost two decades just to find a hitting famine even a third as sorry as the show Florida put on over the weekend.

At least now we know of one team the Reds don’t hate.

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Photo courtesy of Yahoo! Sports via Getty Images