Watching the soap opera that is Mark Buehrle’s contract negotiations with the White Sox is like riding a rollercoaster. Up one day, then a sharp drop the next. This morning we’re at the bottom of the sharp drop, and hoping the ride goes up again before it ends. A no-trade clause appears to be a deal-breaker, with Buehrle wanting it and the Sox management not wanting to give it. This seems totally ridiculous. Buehrle wants to stay, and by finally (apparently) offering him a long-term contract (which the Sox never do with pitchers), it would appear they want him to stay. So what’s the problem, Kenny? He wants to stay, you want him to stay. He doesn’t want to be traded, you don’t want to trade him (if you did, he’d be gone by now). So do the right thing and give him what he wants. Mark Buerhle will be the cornerstone of the Sox rotation for the next four years. His likes are not easy to find, or replace. Just do it, dammit!
I’ve spent the past three days trying to avoid the internet, television, radio and anywhere else that might reveal something that I didn’t want to know until I saw if for myself.
Now, having “acquired” the final episode of The Sopranos (it won’t be aired in the UK for months) and watched it tonight, I’m glad I succeeded in keeping myself in isolation. For it was truly amazing. My heart stopped (my first reaction was I’d downloaded a copy of the show that had cut off the key final moments… and then the credits rolled). I had to rewind and watch the last few minutes again, just to make sure. I felt angry and disappointed for about 0.005 seconds, then realised it couldn’t have ended any other way. But just to make sure I hadn’t fallen victim to some cruel internet prank, I googled up the reviews and commentary (of which there was no shortage).
The best line I’ve read is from Tim Goodman in the Chronicle: “For those people who felt cheated and/or betrayed by the ending, well, it could be you were watching the wrong series the entire time.”