The unforeseen part about the Yanks trading Montero to the M's in the Pineda deal is that it freed up the DH slot that most thought would be occupied by the young slugging "catcher" is that is has sent shock-waves to every agent representing a possible replacement bat. In the few short days since the big, Friday the 13th trade some of the names bandied about have been familiar: maybe Damon will come back with a pay cut (it's funny though: since reading "Moneyball" and much about Johnny D. some of the "clutch-hitting" and "intangibles" points that are made about him in the papers may belie the actual truth of his value on the field), possibly a return for Hideki Matsui. I even saw one report that Jorge Posada would retract his recent retirement and platoon with Andruw Jones, much like last season, in the DH role. Admittedly, even that report said there was about a 1% chance of that; which means, essentially, the reporter made it up, but it was still nice to see Jorge's name back in the sports section.

Now, Raul Ibanez's name has been added to that growing list. So has Vlad Guerrero who would be my choice if we can "afford" him; everyone knows the Yanks do have the money, but there's a budget ... allegedly.

Now that it is a month to Spring Training I have to admit I'm getting fairly excited to see this Yankee team. Have to feel exceptionally hopeful.


Finished moving out of the loft space and setting up the home office. The latter part being a little extra difficult because of Thurman's damn agility. Yes, I have been forced in the past to re-re-arrange having not realized that I moved something that he used as a launching pad to a place where I permit him to go. But the new desk and file cabinet created some issues yesterday and I have had to move things around to keep him out of the book shelf and off the top of it where he really should not be. Things reached a head when he did make the 5 foot leap atop the book case knocking over and breaking a gift from some dear friends in LA (sorry, Mickey) and someone spent a time-out in the bathroom. He emerged sheepishly knowing that he did wrong, but now I can't exactly put things where I want them. Damn athletic cat; I guess it's my fault: people warned me about those Russian Blues.

Oh, well- too cold to go out; thanks heavens for books and netflix.

Cheers,
Brrrrrrrian