Back on April 14, 2008, I penned a post that labeled Manny Ramirez the best of my era. Here’s some of that content.

Part of what makes baseball, and all sports, great is debate. And a seemingly essential part of baseball banter is stats. People love ‘em, quote ‘em, memorize ‘em and use them as points for the prosecution or defense in virtually every sports-related argument ever waged, particularly when it comes to what’s gone on historically on the diamond. We’re throwing the stats out the window for this post. Deal with it.

Instead, we’ll only clarify one parameter and then share our non-scientific, completely observational perspective. After that, we’ll leave it up to you to ponder, debate or vehemently oppose our assertions.

The first and most important question is “era.” For the purposes of this discussion, we’re identifying the era as 1990-2010. We were in junior high at the start of that window and watching baseball with regularity. Those are about the only numbers we’re going to quote. During that period, we say Manny is the best hitter in baseball. One of the many ways we classify a great hitter is the much-referenced “would scare the sh*t out of me, if I was a fan of the opposing team when that guy’s up” factor. Nobody solicits that emotion with me more than Manny.

Some guys are great power hitters. These are the guys that come up to the plate and you’re convinced they’ll either hit a bomb, double off the wall, strike out or walk. Others, like Ichiro, you know are just going to find a way to get on base. There are very few though who demonstrate a combination of those two abilities. The ideal mix of power, a tremendous eye at the plate and the uncanny knack to make a pitcher pay for any mistake – deep.

Manny is that kind of hitter. Others that might fit in the discussion could be A-Rod, Pujols and that Bonds guy. We’re not going to include Barroid in this chat for obvious reasons. But, for me, there is a difference between Ramirez and A-Rod and Pujols. When I watch Albert and Alex hit there is a predominant feeling that if the pitcher falls behind and is forced to come into their respective wheelhouses it’s trouble.

Manny almost seems to will that situation. It’s as if those dreadlocks, the dirty helmet, the stare…pitchers start aiming, nibbling, backing down. Any pitcher goes down 1-0 to Manny, and I immediately think #24 is going to do damage. There’s a very small number of hitters I’ve felt that way about to a similar degree. And he’s been doing it for a long time.

Only four years later, it seems that not much more could’ve changed. Instead of cementing a legendary status, Manny is a walking sob story. He’s begged back into the league for another one-year deal. He’ll probably still hit a bit. But it just feels all wrong. The Oakland A’s will now join a career team list that includes the Cleveland Indians, Boston Red Sox, Los Angeles Dodgers and Tampa Bay Rays. What the hell happened?

The Manning Family (at least the important ones)

Can’t a guy catch a break? For real, though? I’m a diehard Jets fan. My wife’s a lifelong backer of the Big Blue. I harbor no animosity towards the G-Men. When they win championships, wifey is happy. This makes me happy. Yay, everyone. Sure, it would be nice if lil’ old me might be able to experience a Jets parade in my lifetime. But it’s OK. I have no ill-will toward Coughlin’s crew. In fact, I even dedicated a post to the Giants under-appreciated leader. Oh yes, and we lauded the Eli-teness of Eli Manning. Apparently, that’s not enough. No, not nearly enough.

The aftermath of a second Giants Super Bowl win has of course brought with it plenty more Manning love. Couple it with the uncertainty surrounding Peyton’s NFL future, and it’s more than enough Manning mania for the average dude to handle. Like I said, I don’t hate the Giants. There’s a difference, though, between not-hating a team and enjoying or even being able to tolerate the incessant championship chatter of said crosstown “rival” — from the media and my wife. Everyone has their breaking point. Mine came last night.

It arrived in the mail. People say humor is all in the delivery. If that’s the case, my wife scored highly on this one. The package was innocuous enough. A plain yellow padded envelope in a fairly standard 8 x 11 vehicle. She coyly asked: “Honey, did you order something?” I should know well enough to recognize the hint of mischievousness in that question and its tone. The slight rise in intonation at the end, as if you could literally hear the smile just barely being stifled.

“No, I answered.” This was of course a set-up. I never order anything anyway. The package couldn’t have been a product of my doing. It wasn’t. This was my wife’s sick, sick idea. She slowly tore apart the envelope and its contents were revealed…to my sheer horror.

The Family Huddle: Torture Device

The shrieks must have been heard for miles (hyperbole). Honestly?? No, REALLY?? The Family F-In Huddle?? A children’s book co-written by the triumvirate of Archie, Peyton and Eli Manning? Haven’t I been a good husband? A caring father of our six-month old little girl? And this is my reward? This…this…thing.

It of course got progressively worse as the evening wore on. My disgust only fueled the sheer joy my wife was experiencing as this drama unfolded before her. She then cracked it open. And, dear g-d, she began to read.

Archie was in the front yard in New Orleans, playing with his three sons: Cooper, Peyton, and Eli. It was Peyton’s turn at their favorite game, Amazing Catches. “GO DEEP!” called Archie. It was the boys’ favorite play…

It continued to devolve. As my wife’s smirk widened, she continued to read aloud putting emphasis on the lines and phrases that would cut the deepest. If there was a visual of “grinning and bearing it” in the dictionary, my expression during this not-so-silent attack would have been the perfect illustration. She went on to take the liberty of ad-libbing and editing the prose…”Peyton has won two NFL MVPs…” My wife added: “His brother Eli has now won TWO Super Bowls…and won TWO Super Bowl MVPs…yes, you’ve already been alive for one championship and you’re only six months old! Your daddy’s 34 years old and he’s never…”

And so it continued. Rest assured I will never be the narrator of this bedtime story. Just having the book around is torture enough. I’ve asked many things of Rex Ryan during his tenure at the helm. Is a children’s book describing a Gang Green championship too much to ask? Please Rexy, hurry.

In this intellectually riveting spot, Upton teaches the boys about the intricacies of the circle change. Resists…urge…to make…predictable…joke…here.

I’ll tell you what. I’ve never been a big video game guy, but this marketing sure makes sense to me. Notice the aptly-named video title “Finger Mechanics.” Oh, you dirty, dirty creatives.

HT: Cosby Sweaters

1. Figure Out Why You Want to Blog: This is an important one, and it’s tricky. There are plenty of times along the way where one can get confused as to their real motivation.  I started this blog for two reasons. The first was to prove I could do it and learn about this newfangled “blogosphere” from personal experience. I believed as a PR person it made more sense to talk about something you knew about. The second was because I liked writing about sports and had always wished I had an outlet to share those opinions. The latter slowly became and has remained my principle motivation. I may have been temporarily teased by visions of grandeur and profitability that could allow me to quick my day job, but reality sets in quickly. My favorite line from my wife is: “the blog can’t pay the mortgage.” She’s right. It can barely cover my daily coffee truck visits. Plus, this whole thing is a lot more fun when you’re comfortable with its true purpose. For me, it’s good old-fashioned fun. It’s a ton of fun to write. It’s fun to actually know that sometimes people are reading. And, yes, it’s strangely rewarding (and damn fun) to see folks from the blogging pantheon and mainstream sports outlets link to or cite your stuff. I’ll always be able to say that The Legend of Cecilio Guante was featured on SportsCenter. Ain’t that some sh*t?

2. Erase Any Illusions of Ease: Whether you’re doing it for creative kicks or making a run at  monetization, be ready to work. Bloggin’ ain’t easy. Those who’ve never done it can claim that it takes nothing to bang out a post. They’re largely wrong. It takes a ton of time. Which brings us to number three…

3. Team Up: Speaking of not easy…going at it alone is challenging. If you’re looking to make a go of your sports blog, see if you can gather some like-minded folks to lessen the load. I’ve been lucky enough to have some fine guest writers and part-time contributors at The Legend, but it’s mostly been a solo gig. It’s a whole different proposition if you can gather three or four folks to take on the Interwebs as a team. It means more posts, more content and more variety. It also means a lighter burden on any one writer. It’s something I’d have looked to change and get right from the get go, if I had to do it all over again. Did we mention the fine segues between some of these…

4. Play the Name Game: What’s in a name? Well, when it comes to blog names, possibly a whole lot. Great blog names are clever, memorable and short. It makes them easier to recall and, you know, type into things. Blog names should also be easy to grasp. Plays on words are good. Sports-related is a plus. Thinks like Deadspin, The Big Lead, With Leather, Rush the Court and Empty the Bench come to mind as good models. An example of what not to do? www.thelegendofcecilioguante.com. Try reciting that one to your uncle who wants to check out your stuff. Chances are, no matter how witty you think you are, if you can’t explain (or, you now, recite) your blog’s home in a few seconds you’re screwed. Editor’s note: please visit us at lcgsports.com. See? Slightly better.

5. Look the Part: If you’re going to put in all the time to write, it’s worth making sure that the living space for your musings isn’t a busted-ass shack. My old site on Blogger was a long-standing picture of how to look like a complete amateur. It looked like a blog-by-numbers experiment gone horribly awry. I may still be writing during amateur hour, but at least the new site on this fancy thing called “WordPress” could fool a few people. Seriously, though, if you at least try to look like a pro there’s a better chance folks may devote an extra second or two to your latest rant.

6. Support from the Head Coach: Making real money on a sports blog is a Herculean task. As much as I may dream, there are painfully few Drew Magary and Will Leitch-types out there. I’m not that smart or funny, nor that fine a writer. Chances are, you aren’t either. All of which means having support from the significant folks in your life is pretty much a mandatory. Hobbies need spousal approval. Time-sucking hobbies with few tangible benefits aside from an amorphous creative satisfaction demand such support. Luckily, my wife is an angel who tolerates my blog flings and transgressions. It helps that she’s long asleep when I spend the majority of my quality time with The Legend. She also occasionally forces me to write about the Giants and Eli Manning. Small sacrifices to make. Although if she pushes me to ever pen positively about the Yankees, it may signal the end.

7. Lists: Try to come up with a top [insert number here] or list post every week. No joke. People are dumb as rocks. They love lists. Long-form prose just blows their mind. Top five player hairdos…top 10 bloop singles of all-time…top three stooges…it hardly matters. See: Letterman, Dave.

8. Learn a Bit About the Web: Just reading the Internet doesn’t qualify you to know jack sh*t about it. I didn’t and still don’t for the most part. But I’ve been lucky enough to have a few Web-savvy friends instruct me on at least the basics of SEO and what you should try to do to trick those search engine masters of the universe to find your stuff more easily. It doesn’t mean you have to sell out and write exactly what everybody else is writing. But if you’re going to pour your heart into each post, you may as well write the titles and tag things so that more people might read your divine drivel.

9. Be Yourself: Should you resign yourself to the “blog-for-fun” category, just do that. Write what you want. It’s your blog and that’s why you started it (if you’re trying to make money, good luck and this doesn’t necessarily apply). Want to ramble on about your teenage addiction to Lids? Go ahead. Feel like bemoaning the departure of high socks in the NBA? It’s your prerogative, you can do what you want to do. Write on, brother.

10. When All Else Fails…Tebow: There will be times where the tank is on empty. It happens…frequently. During those moments of weakness, it’s okay to scrounge around for the popular story of the week and shamelessly jump on the bandwagon. Sure, it feels dirty, lazy and completely inauthentic. It. Is. OK. And of course should collecting from the dregs of other blogs not be sufficient, there’s always Tebow.

That’s all I got. See you in another five years or so?

*”Add photos” would be another tip…but that time thing comes to play again. Sorry.

Imagine if only a month ago, anyone would’ve come to you and said:

“Hey, Time Warner Cable’s still not carrying MSG Network…but the Knicks are on a roll and they’ve got the Lakers tonight…so MSG has put Jeremy Lin all over its Internet ads to remind people that they’re missing him and a big game and that it’s time to switch to a new provider!”

Wait…whah-huh???

Well, such is the alternate reality of today. MSG remains in a battle with Time Warner Cable that has resulted in TWC’s dropping of the cable home of the New York Knicks. MSG obviously sees a star to whom they can attach their hopes to lure TWC subscribers to switch and get back their Knicks fix. It’s not Melo. It ain’t Stat. Not Tyson Chandler.

Jeremy. Friggin. Lin.

For now, it’s Lin’s world and we’re just living in it. Tonight will be a good barometer of how long this Linsanity can last.

Yes, the February sports doldrums have arrived in full force. The January high of the NFL Playoffs has led to the inevitable crash. There is little to grab my attention in the sports world for the next few weeks, as we await the madness of March. With a six-month old keeping me busy, neither regular season college hoops and hockey nor the hype of spring training prove alluring. But, alas, there is “Linsanity. ” Oh, wait…

Of course it would be this way. The sports gods appear to be conspiring to rub in the cold reality of a Mets-Jets-Knicks fan. It’s actually quite humorous. The Jets ended the season as fractured as can be and have only devolved further in the offseason. The Mets will not be relevant until 2014 at the earliest. The Rangers are very good, but you need to wake me come Playoffs time. That leaves the Knicks. And while I’ve greatly enjoyed NBA TV, Mr. Lin has been the one thing that would have compelled me to watch.

Splendid…

“…the Knicks bigger problem this season has been on offense. It’s been downright offensive, actually. Why? Well, their shooting stinks. There’s no flow. Zero continuity. Nobody in charge of the floor. In short, among other issues, they have no point guard. What’s even worse, there’s nobody on roster who can fill that desperately needed role.”

Perhaps we overlooked Jeremy Lin. We should be excused for such an oversight. However, it’s incomprehensible that the Knicks coach did the same to such a degree. With the Knicks clearly lacking anyone who resembled a “natural” point guard, the one individual who plays that way sat on the bench…not playing. Lin, acquired by the Knicks over a month ago, spent the majority of January racking up DNPs as Toney Douglas struggled, Mike Bibby stumbled and Iman Shumpert tried to play a part for which is he is ill-suited.

The Harvard product Lin first got significant run on Saturday in the Knicks win over New Jersey. He came off the bench to spark the lifeless Knickerbockers with 25 points, seven assists, five boards and two steals on 10-19 shooting. Apparently, that performance was enough to convince D’Antoni that maybe, at least in the short term, Lin was perhaps a better answer than the current options at point.

As a reward, Lin got the start tonight against Utah. His bonus was a roster to work with that did not include Carmelo or A’Mare. Admittedly, I’m away on business and did not watch the game. His stat sheet also shows eight turnovers. The same line though also reveals 45 minutes of play that culminated in 28 points and eight assists. Not too shabby for a player who was demoted back to the D-League only weeks ago. The last two games have delivered more production from the point for the Knicks than this fan can remember.

All of which bodes the question…how could Lin not have been deemed capable enough to get at least some run prior to this past weekend? Is he a bad practice player who only shows when the lights turns on? Or was D’Antoni watching something else? What was the downside of seeing what the kid could do any earlier? Does he have something against Asian-Americans? In all seriousness, what does this say about D’Antoni’s ability to evaluate his players? How did Lin not even crack the rotation until now?

Who knows? Maybe Lin really isn’t anything special. Perhaps his two-game run is just that. An anomaly. A nice story that we’ll be laughing at a week from now. But maybe, just maybe, he’s not. And if he can play any sort of valuable role on this Knicks team (even as a spot replacement), what does it say about D’Antoni? Only time will tell. For this moment, though, Knicks fans can put their pipe dreams of Baron Davis’s imminent arrival and revival on hold. Jeremy Lin’s running the point. And he’s doing work.

It was dispiriting for two reasons. First, and of the most real importance, is that Hamilton stumbled in what is his surely constant battle with addiction. His fight against demons that have reared their heads in destructive ways in the past. It’s not the first time it’s happened. It probably won’t be the last. It’s disappointing because Hamilton’s story has been — and will continue to be — a phenomenal tale of left for dead wasted talent to you’ll-never-believe All-Star.

The other side of the depressing coin was the very fact that Hamilton’s “moment of weakness” was scrolling across the bottom of the ESPN telecast as if it was everyone’s business in America to know. Why does the press and the public need to know that Josh Hamilton had a few drinks and stumbled in his daily battle against drug and alcohol addiction? I would argue we don’t. Hamilton broke no laws. He violated no league rules. For those reasons, his whereabouts and actions on a weekday evening in Dallas seem to run afoul in many ways.

So, can we leave Josh Hamilton alone? Of course we can’t. In our modern media world, nothing is off-limits. My taxi cab home illustrated the degree to which it’s sunk as I was informed that “Miranda Lambert’s Dog Dies.” Major national outlets rushed to document the tragedy (yes, I know she actually tweeted it). Such an environment ensured that Hamilton’s relapse was destined for front-page news.

We can’t leave Josh Hamilton alone. We can’t because his comeback story was and remains too powerful. We can’t because his profile is too elevated. We can’t because Hamilton’s saga was inspiring to too many. We can’t because, in fact, Hamilton’s misstep hurt infinitely more people than himself and his family. It is also a gold mine of connected stories.

It generates questions about his future as a Texas Ranger and what direction his Major League career is heading. It presents questions about his stability. Unsaid in all of this, is something obvious. We crave stories of spectacular failure often as much as those of tremendous triumph. Hamilton’s story is beginning to live somewhere in the murky waters in-between. And that’s what makes it incredibly compelling to watch.

We can’t leave Josh Hamilton alone. The one saving grace is that those extra eyes and attention on Hamilton could be one of the things that he needs to stay afloat.

Fortunately for Stewart, he has a national platform to playfully and brilliantly poke fun at said franchise in the self-deprecating manner that only true Mets fans can master.

See the following clip from his recent interview with Brad Pitt on Moneyball. Tune in at 3:25 for his Mets dig. Very nicely done.

(H/T Mets Blog)