Monday, January 23, 2012
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Fielder, Where will he go?
And now all eyes—especially
those belonging to Washington Nationals and Texas Rangers fans—turn to
free-agent first baseman Prince Fielder.
Even before the Rangers on
Wednesday announced that they had signed Japanese righthander Yu Darvish to a
six-year, $60 million contract, speculation began about whether they could
afford Fielder, too.
Prince Fielder becomes viable for the Texas Rangers and Washington
Nationals thanks to local television money.
MLB.com reported that
during Wednesday's news conference about the Darvish signing, general manager
Jon Daniels—when asked off-camera about Fielder's joining his team, too—said,
“I’m intimately aware of our budget and it’s very unlikely.”
Of course, remember that
MLB.com also reported earlier Wednesday that optimism over Texas' getting a
deal done with Darvish had waned.
There is a lot of
information and misinformation when it comes to big-time contracts and impact
players.
The common denominator
between the Rangers and Nationals, who many say took over the role as favorites
to sign Fielder, is local television money.
If the Nationals are going
to sign Fielder, it will be in part because of new revenue derived from TV deal
still being negotiated, just as whether the Rangers still could fit Fielder
onto the payroll is a question only because of their recently negotiated TV
deal.
“It’s impossible to
overstate just how important it is for a franchise to gets its media deal
right,” former Rangers managing partner Chuck Greenberg told The Washington Post. “The
difference … affects every element of a franchise operation.”
Likewise, the Nationals,
according to experts cited by The Post, can expect enough new revenue from the
renegotiated rights fees to pay for Fielder’s potential contract–and then some.
Andrew Zimbalist, an economics professor and sports business expert, told the
newspaper that signing Fielder could enhance the Nationals’ argument for higher
rights fees from MASN.In 2010, the Rangers reached a 20-year deal with Fox
Sports worth $3 billion beginning in 2014, according to a report in USA Today
that cited two unidentified baseball officials who had seen the contract. The
deal, according to The Post, allows the Rangers to operate with a financial
assurance unrivaled in baseball outside of New York and Boston.
So, which comes first, the
chicken or the nine-figure free-agent contract?
According to The Post, the
Nationals have held firm at their price for Fielder as interest hasn’t been
nearly what agent Scott Boras and Fielder likely expected.
Now, unless another team
wants to come in very late in the process (remember, pitchers and catchers
report in less than a month), it would appear that Fielder’s choice is down to
this:
Take what the Nationals
have been offering, a number that is unclear right now although Boras has been
seeking eight or 10 years and close to $200 million for Fielder, 27, or at the
least a shorter deal that averages approximately the $25.2 million per year
that Albert Pujols’ new contract with the Angels averages. (By the way, the
Angels were able to afford that contract because of a new local TV contract.)
Or hope, as one rival
executive told SI.com, that the Rangers are “expert at playing possum” and will
now go after Fielder.
If Texas is to do so, the
Dallas Morning News noted, then it will be because Boras, who met with the
Rangers last week, is willing to be creative.
An unidentified source
cited by the Morning News said Wednesday that the Rangers would not rule out
Fielder, but that any flexibility to negotiate would likely be eliminated by
the Darvish signing.
The newspaper went on to
say that the Rangers have expressed interest in a shorter-term deal, perhaps
along the lines of a six-year contract that would allow Fielder to opt out
after three or four years. However, according to the Morning News, if Boras and
Fielder are intent on the longer term deal, then talks with the Rangers will
likely end abruptly.
Read more: http://aol.sportingnews.com/mlb/story/2012-01-19/prince-fielder-nationals-rangers-follow-the-tv-money#ixzz1k7SCff00
The Internet, What is it Good For?
What is the
difference between an Internet surfer and an ocean surfer? Is it that the medium of one is an online
network, and the other is a body of water? While many people probably could
rattle off many more differences between the Internet and the ocean, these two
entities are not totally different. For
example, the Internet can be considered a realm, another sector of the
planet. Artificial, yes, however it
spans globally, and is a nexus of social gathering, commerce, and
adventure. For many years the ocean has
served those very same purposes, whether it is a tourist at the beach, a cargo
ship, or a Para sailor.
The
question that should come to mind is how real is the Internet becoming. In order to put this into perspective, the
Internet must be applied to some of the most characteristic attributes of one’s
typical routine. Does the Internet allow
for people to interact and even see each other? Check. Does the Internet allow for trade, business,
and commerce? Check. Does the Internet allow for a daily professional
education? Check. The Internet, like the real world, can be accommodating
to many individuals’ desires, ambitions, and general personalities. It seems to be that the delineation between the Internet and the real world is slowly disappearing.
The question to my readers is, “How big is the internet in
your life? Does it play too big a role
or not enough? Are you using to your
advantage, or do you think it will lead to your ultimate demise?”
Please, if you would like, comment you answer to one of these
questions below, and we can truly grasp presence of the Internet.
Friday, January 20, 2012
The Secret to my Success
A Student’s Guide to the Galaxy
My school binder
is my academic compass. My binder serves
a special purpose; it holds everything I need for school. On a daily basis, I get compliments from
teachers, friends, and random students walking down the hallway about how
organized my binder is. What is the
secret to my binder driven popularity? I
have my binder divided into sections, based on their importance in school.
My first
classification is whether homework is classroom critical. What exactly is classroom critical? Classroom critical is the standard I place on
papers and utensils that are essential for my success in all periods of the day
while in the classroom. For example, if
I should come to the unfortunate circumstances in which I have to take a pop
quiz, I need to be able to pull out a pencil like a cowboy pulls out his gun in
order to maximize last minute study time.
In order to do this, I sharpen each of my pencils before first period
each day, and I slip them into individual sleeves on the inside cover of my
binder. That way, if one of my pencils
should break in battle, I’m only a swipe away from a new one. Another thing I classify as classroom
critical is homework. For the majority
of my classes, homework is distributed everyday and is counted for a
grade. Though I do not need to retrieve
my homework from my binder as quick as I may need a pencil, it is still
classroom critical because of its grade significance. Therefore, I have designated a specific
folder, and further subdivided this folder based on my classes for the sole
purpose of holding my homework.
My second
classification is future critical. It
may not seem like it, but future critical may be even more important than
classroom critical. Yes, anybody can get
out and turn in homework for a good grade, but what sets a student apart in the
eyes of a teacher is preparedness. Who
do you think the algebra teacher will notice when she suddenly calls out for
her students to pull out their calculators.
She will notice the one with the calculator neatly placed on the corner
of his desk, with his hands together smiling.
The reason why my calculator is so accessible is because I have created
a pocket on the edge of the binder for all things I could potentially use
during the day. In this little pocket, I
keep tiny, but important things, like highlighters, post-it notes, white-out,
page tabs, a dictionary, paperclips, staplers, tape, and of course my calculator. I do not use all these items regularly but if
I had too, I could whip them out before anybody else.
The final standard
I apply to my masterpiece is the exam critical classification. For an item to be exam critical, it must meet
the following requirements. It must bare
information worth keeping, inform or remind me of future or important dates,
and in some but not all cases, be specifically provided to me for the purpose
of reviewing for an exam or test.
Probably the most important possession I have in my exam critical
section of my binder is my calendar. One
may think that the calendar should belong in the future critical classification
section. This controversial issue has
been the subject of many past and likely future debates, however I continue to apply
my calendar to the exam critical protocol.
The reason why, is that the only dates I write on my calendar are the
dates of important exams and tests. For
this reason, the calendar is exam critical, but if I were to also include dates
of assigned homework, quizzes, or other relatively minor events, one could
argue the placement of my calendar in either the future critical or even
classroom critical classification section.
To supplement the important dates provided to me by my calendar, I have
notes, review guides, and handouts that could be helpful when studying for an
exam or test. These items are not
important nor potentially important on a daily level, so they have found a nice
comfortable home in the back of my binder, where they do not often get in the
way. I keep the paper items in a folder
while my calendar is firmly attached to the inside back cover of my binder. I come to think of my binder as the
repository of all knowledge and usefulness pertaining to school. Without out it, I would meet my
unquestionable demise. It plays an
integral part of my success in school
Movie Time- The Sting
The Sting is a crime story about a conman’s attempt at revenge on the man who had his partner killed, while working the big con game in 1930’s Chicago. The film is a light-hearted witty tale bringing back together one of acting’s greatest duos, Paul Newman and Robert Redford. The Sting is one of director George C. Hill’s greatest films and remains a staple of classis cinema. A major reason The Sting has maintained its high status for years is because of how it is one of few films to have successfully captured the depression era and its ability to bring a previously wistful period of time into a lighter view.
It is easy to tell simply by the casting of Robert Redford that the role of Johnny Hooker, the main character, was about a pretty boy finesse man. Redford dominates the screen with his charm, and his ability to appear innocent, regardless of the illegal acts he commits throughout the film. Redford captures the audience’s affection from the beginning when it seems as if he has helped an old man from getting robbed. However, it is amusing to find out that the robbery of the old man had been staged in order to con another man out of his money, which helps establish the tone of the movie as light hearted. Redford’s character seems to mature throughout the film. At first, it appears as if Hooker is a naïve hotshot, especially after blowing three thousand dollars on one gamble in a casino, but as the film progresses, Redford begins to learn to differentiate between the morally right and wrong and learns the ethical implications of living the life of a conman. Redford’s character represents the film’s theme of loyalty and friendship, and though there is much cheating and lying throughout the film it is easy to distinguish the justified actions of Redford against the corrupted desires of the antagonist played by Robert Shaw.
Though Redford displays a stellar performance, the film would not be complete without the laid back stylings of Paul Newman. Paul Newman plays the role of Henry Gondorf, the man who takes Johnny Hooker under his wing when Hooker joins the big con in Chicago. Gondorf’s influence on Hooker results in Hooker’s realization of the true essence behind the big con, the idea of unity among a group and the importance of working together to do what is right. At first, Gondorf seems like a lazy drunkard, and fails to earn the respect of Hooker and the audience. As the film progresses, it is apparent that Gondorf no longer cons for quick cash, but for what is right during a time period in which it is easy to get away with doing what is wrong.
The essence of the film could simply be characterized by the theme song of which it popularized. The theme song, The Entertainer, has a vivacious, yet relaxed tune, that helps develop the tone of the film. The Sting’s ability to depict the 1930’s as a happy time contributes to its major success and its immortalization in the world of cinema. The Sting will always be remembered as the film that brought back together Paul Newman and Robert Redford.
The Elusive Snake
The Elusive Snake
The greatest thing about the American west is every mile you go, it seems like you are in a new world. I was walking down a path in a deserted sheep camp, a few miles off a Navajo reservation, and while I stopped to peer at the massive mesa in front of me, pondering if I had what it took to scale those walls, I heard a soft rattle. It startled me, so I ran behind a bush. The closest hospital was at least twenty miles away, and I was out there alone. I could not afford a rattlesnake bite. I did not hear the rattle anymore. It was gone, I thought I had run away from it. I walked down the path again, farther down from where I had heard the rattle. After about three steps, I heard it again, but this time distinctly louder.
The first thing that came to my head was, “Where the hell is this snake!”
I began to walk backwards, but the sound got louder. So I walked forwards again, yet the sound still got louder. I ran to another bush off the side of the path. I could still hear the rattle, but it was faint and dying. I waited there hesitantly, maybe an hour, maybe two. When you are alone in nature, duration of time loses its relevance. I began walking on the path again, but slowly. I walked slowly for at least half a mile. I kept looking back, secretly checking if the snake was following me. I did not see anything. I kept walking. And then I heard it, and it was louder than ever. I began a sprint off the path. I kept running till I collapsed. While catching my breath, I lied down. I was losing energy. There were no longer mesas around me, it was desert. I don’t know where I had gone, I could not see the path anymore. At least I was away from that damn snake. I had a pouch with me. I did not foresee any delays, so I only packed a small bottle of water and some nuts. It was getting dark out. I began to worry. I had to find my way back to the path. So I walked towards the sun, It was setting, and I was generally heading west. I hoped I would come across the path as I walked, but I was not that fortunate. I was getting thirsty, my water was almost out. I was not paying attention to where I was going, and I tripped over a small stone. I braced myself for the fall, but was unsuccessful in preventing my right shoulder from hitting a prickly pear cactus. I got up and brushed myself off. I looked at my shoulder, it was bleeding slightly, nothing too bad though. I took another step and I heard it again. It probably was the most terrifying and gruesomely awful sound I had ever heard. I blacked out. When I came too, I found myself staring at the eyes of a saddled horse. I looked at my shoulder. It was as if nothing had happened to it. I stretched for my pouch. There were two full canteens of water, and about three days worth of food. As I stood up I noticed I was not in the desert. I was standing at the edge of a riverbed. Suddenly, the rattling came again. I quickly spun around.
All of a sudden I was back in the desert. I looked at my shoulder, it was all banged up. I looked in my pouch. Just a near empty bottle of water and an empty sack of nuts. I looked down. And there it was. The damn creature was pointing its tongue at me. I looked at it intently, almost warning it not to rattle. It did not heed my warning. I lunged to grab it. I had had enough. I closed my eyes and reached out. Nothing. I felt nothing. I opened my eyes and looked down. There was nothing there. I blacked out again. When I woke up, I could hear the sound of a faint rattle.
A Day at the Beach
A Day at the Beach
Wherever Jeff is, it seems like he does not quite belong there. His hair hardly glistened as he lay down on the beach. His beard was long and thick, stained by the stench of vodka and cream. He lay there with no plan, no inspiration, acting much like the ocean that crashed before him, constantly turning wherever things would bring him. Whenever the waves of life decide to bring Jeff to the beach, he spends hours scratching his thick skull, and flushing his gnarled bent fingers through his mane. His hair, though, is one of the few things he takes great pride in. Everyday he washes and combs it, the same way he had done the day before. And everyday, no matter what he did, his hair seems to regress to its original state of mess and disarray. Jeff does not care, he knows he will wake up the next day, and it will be fixed. His sense of fashion is more than outdated. To categorize based on a timeline, it is non-existent. His outfit does not change from day to day. He wears a long brown robe with Mexican Pueblo designs on the exterior. On the interior of the robe, there are many patches of different colors and fabrics fixing slices and holes in the robe, each one telling a story about where Jeff had been. Now Jeff was no sentimental sap, but it seemed every time Jeff found himself on an adventure, his long robe would suffer a minor casualty. One could say Jeff only had two things in his life, his hair and his robe. One representing his mundane life, the other representing what could have been. No matter, because at the beach nothing happens. This is what Jeff thought at least, just waves rolling, tides creeping, sand blowing. Jeff liked the beach, in fact, the beach may be the one place where he feels he belongs. To him the beach is just the right time and just the right place. Maybe that is why he always wears sandals. On the street, on the grass, on carpet, on stone, or at the beach, Jeff wears his sandals. Looking at him from head to toe as he lies innocently on the beach, one would think, he is a bum, a degenerate. It is unfortunate Jeff’s meticulously cared for hair does not survive long enough for people to see, or that nobody sees the story in Jeff’s robe, or that nobody sees Jeff’s passion for the beach in his sandals. Jeff’s identity is so misconceived at times he does not really know who he is. This is why he lays down on the beach, returning to his safe house, where the world cannot touch him. Here at the beach, there are just waves rolling, tides creeping, sand blowing, and every now and then, who knows, Jeff might see a dolphin swimming, poking its head out of the water to say hello.
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