Seems like the more things change, the more they . . . don’t change . . . or something.  Ken Macha quickly made himself into the Brock Lesnar of the Oakland sports world, making a hasty decision based on the faulty assumption that he was worth far more that he actually was.  But unlike Lesnar, who is now splitting his time between main-eventing wrestling cards on Mount Fuji and trying to figure out just how to work those darned Japanese toilets, Macha came to his senses in time and is back managing the Athletics.

And I don’t have a problem with that.  Sure, I can’t say that I’ve agreed with some of Macha’s bullpen decisions over the years, nor have I been a huge fan of his quaint Canadianisms, but I’m also wary of the notion of separating so many rookies from the manger they broke into the pros with.  It’d almost be like putting little kids through a painful divorce.  Sure, they’d be able to recover in time, but my 2006 postseason reservations would be going to waste in the meantime, and we can’t have that.

So I’m glad Macha is back, especially since Jim Tracy and the Pirates precluded him from landing what was pretty much his only other chance to manage at a big league level, and I really didn’t want to have to feel sorry for him every time he took my order for a Double-Double at that new In-n-Out Burger outside the airport.  As it is, the least pleasant part of his new contract will be waxing Billy Beane’s car every other Sunday, and its not like he isn’t used to that sort of humiliation already.  Managers under Beane are tough like that. (Read the article)

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This last week has been the most useless week of my life.  I couldn’t concentrate.  I couldn’t think rationally.  2+2 equaled five, the sun revolved around the Earth, Hulk Hogan was a bad guy, and the Forty-niners were the favorites going into their game.  All  because it was the last week of the season, and the A’s had been eliminated from postseason contention.

Is this what it’s like to be a Pirates fan?  The highlight of your Baseball Tonight experience is watching the Web Gems?  You have no idea what time your game starts or what the pitching matchup is, not because you’re otherwise occupied but simply because you just can’t bring yourself to care? 

And why should you?  None of it makes a difference anyway.  Jason Kendall could have hit twelve homeruns in the last three games and no one would have noticed outside of his mom and Billy Beane, who would have been shouting, “See?  I told you!  I told all y’all!” (Read the article)

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