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all the news that's fit to print

The Wall Street Journal had a good article in monday's edition about the resignation of Boston Red Sox GM wunderkind Theo Epstein and the firing of LA Dodgers GM Paul DePodesta. Both of those stories have been all over the baseball news the past few days, so I won't rehash it here. But the article paints a good picture of these new school style young GMs who are held up to be the new breed of baseball front office man - Ivy League educated, scant experience, and focused on stats -- versus the old tobacco-chewing scout, career baseball man with a high school diploma and lots of experience. Some think the job just isn't worth the dough. I know what they mean. It must be tough for Epstein, just 31, to turn down a multi-million dollar dream job with his hometown team. I wonder what's up? The Red Sox players seem to have some repsect for him. I saw David Ortiz quoted as saying that Theo was "da man". So, an endorsement like that is good enough for me...

I find it even more interesting that both Epstein and DePodesta both play notable roles in Michael Lewis' Moneyball, while Kenny Williams appears as the butt of their jokes. Laugh all you want, I see no World Series ring on the fingers of Billy Beane...

Speaking of reading... I'm still working my way thru my summer reading list. Almost done with the Studs Lonigan Trilogy. But I've also started in on The Worldly Philosphers and have spent the last week learning a bit about ol' Adam Smith. I finally gave up on my main man Carl Sandburg for this autumn. Good Morning, America was just too much for me to handle in one sitting - I'm just not in the right frame of mind. I feel like maybe some linguistics. Can anyone recommend some Chomsky?

I'll close like a freight train with some Sandberg:

SUNSETS

There are sunsets who whisper a good-by,

It is a short dusk and a way for stars.

Prairie and sea rim they go level and even

And the sleep is easy

There are sunsets who dance good-by,

They fling scarves half to the arc,

To the arc then and over the arc.

Ribbons at the ears, sashes at the hips,

Dancing, dancing good-by. And here sleep

Tosses a little with dreams.