Somewhere, Jennifer Aniston is sitting on a pile of money she earned herself and laughing...

Wow. Had to google Perez’s details, and I had totally forgotten they still owed him $12 million when they cut him loose. What a contract!

The Wilpons have a weird obsession: if somebody’s under contract, then they are HERE. Doesn’t matter how little you’re paying them, doesn’t matter if they can do the job. You can’t release Reyes while he’s under contract. You can’t hire a new general manager until the contract of the old one expires. You can’t fire a…

I’d be willing to bet that your average billionaire takes more notice of losing a nickel than you or I do. It’s not the five cents. It’s losing.

Wild guess: the Wilpons are among his “partners.” It’d be totally in character for them.

Nothing fixes a concussion better than doing a hundred thousand sit-ups a day, with Aaron Judge sitting on your feet!

This reminds me that Clint Eastwood is supposed to have said that the stunt men in Where Eagles Dare should have gotten top billing over Richard Burton and himself. 

“I can put you in contact with someone who would release it,” the text message said. “It might make you feel better.”

This is what happens when you outsource and buy cheap speeches from Russia.

I didn’t know it was even possible for a skinny white male actor to put on the stovepipe hat and the beard without looking at least vaguely like Abraham Lincoln, but Mr Taylor has achieved that dubious Raspberry. I’m six inches shorter and seventy pounds heavier and I don’t have a beard and I look more Lincolnesque…

“(Bad) luck is the residue of (bad) design.” -- Branch Rickey.

And that’s the best “taking off the jacket for the fight” scene in years.

Little known mathematical fact: In dating, a 36-year old woman is older than a man who is 25. But a 36-year old man is the same age as a woman who is 25. Math is wonderful!

It’s like the Nationals are very much aware they’re playing an exhibition game against a Little League team.

The advantage of being a Mets fans is that, when this team falls behind by six in the first, your evening opens wide with myriad possibilities, because there is no chance this Mets team comes back from six down, and you can turn off the radio. (And I am SO glad I didn’t waste my money on buying Mets-TV.)

The problem with the Nats plan, as I see it, is that I don’t see Harper coming back to Washington. I’m guessing that he’ll be a Philly next year, as they have the cash on hand to outbid just about everybody and most of the other big money teams are trying to stay under the magic tax line.

For all that he’s held to be the second- or third- or whatever-best player in baseball, Harper is beginning to remind me of Dale Murphy. I don’t think he’s going to age well, and I suspect that in a couple of decades, people will look back at his career and wonder what all the fuss was about.

In his defense, Jones would need three CAT-scanners and a crack team of cardiologists from the Mayo Clinic to find his heart.

This was commonly observed back in sf novels back in the 60s & 70s, so much so that one writer -- Isaac Asimov, perhaps? -- suggested that in order to remedy this, all men after sex should shout, “Screw you, Philip K. Dick, I feel great!”

“...I have never misused my position to harm or hinder anyone’s career.”