This time of year, Major League Baseball reminds me of Tara Reid. In much the same way that Ms. Reid will resort to any number of drunken, titties-askew shenanigans rather than simply accept that her career peaked with Van Wilder and fade gracefully out of the limelight, the MLB drags out the GM meetings, free agent negotiations, and award announcements well into November (Is there only one November, too?) in a desperate bid to keep your attention as you inevitably leave them for the younger, hotter basketball season.
Apparently, their ploy is working on me, as I actually went to MLB.com at exactly 2:01 today to see who won the NL Cy Young award. (I'd make a "Baseball, I can't quit you" joke here, but it just seems inappropriate given the whole Phil Jackson snafu.) Predictably, Jake Peavy won the award in a unanimous vote.
Here's my favorite Peavy-related episode of The Dugout to celebrate.
Eric Wedge received the AL's Best Manager award for overcoming the twin challenges of having a young, inexperienced team and having to play Jhonny Peralta at shortstop (which is arguably worse than not having anybody there at all). Also, I hear he threatened to curse the BBWAA with a plague of flies if he didn't win. The Diamondbacks' Bob Melvin won NL Manager of the Year, presumably for his ability to duck the flying garbage Arizona fans like to chuck when they get pissed off.
I have nothing to say about the A-Rod thing whatsoever. Seriously, I don't care.