In the past, I have found a few occasions to be delighted by strange, but pleasant events where the programming schedule of Turner Classic Movies presented neat parallels with a big defeat for the Boston Red Sox or the Cletics getting a bad draw in the NBA Draft Lottery. I guess sooner or later, I was bound to see an event like that shaping up and have it blow up in my face. I just wish it weren't tonight.

Turner Classic Movies showed the vastly underrated Cliff Robertson Michael Caine film Too Late the Hero. It looked like that would fit very nicely with Josh Beckett taking the hill and the Red Sox facing very long odds in this ALCS. However, Turner Classic Movies has been letting me down lately, with a month of biopics that haven't been all that good and a retrospective on star of the month Henry Fonda featuring Jane Fonda Peter Fonda used as a space filler between movies. I understand that they couldn't really do something like that and leave his kid's out of it, but I really hate Jane Fonda and Peter Fonda.

I also should have known something funny would happen, since In Harm's Way was on deck with Too Late the Hero on the air. In Harm's Way is a very vexing movie for me, since it has John Wayne and Kirk Douglas but also kind of sucks. It's a soap opera masquerading as a war movie. The scenes that dealt with the Solomon Islands campaign have the names of the islands replaced with fugazis as though it were one of those bad made for TV movie of the month "true crime" bits.

Come to think of it, that may have been the case since Admiral Ghormley may have been still alive and the incompetent admiral in In Harm's Way has a lot of his moves, and maybe a little of Admiral Fletcher who lost a lot more cruisers to Japanese forces than I would have thought possible without a court martial or at least a court of inquiry proceeding. But the two main problems with the film are these. First, Patricia Neal, John Wayne's love interest, was not a good looking woman. And most important of all, the movie is literally one hour too long.

I think Turner Classic Movies might have broken that curious, pleasant little power they had by showing the Jazz Singer. It's very rare that it's ever shown, and I always thought it was because of the black face scene. Now I am Caucasian and not as sensitive to that issue as some others might be. But I found one scene where there was a teenager dancing on a stage as though his feet were trapped in drying cement while he was being electrocuted and a piano player who looked as he had been unwittingly part of some half-assed undertaker's half-assed efforts at embalming played a piano with the most macabre attempt at a smile ever far more disturbing. Yikes.

And of course, Joe Torre rejected a one year $5 million contract offer from the New York Yankees today. To be sure, there were incentives in the deal which would, among other things, have triggered another year of employment had Torre accepted the deal and managed the team to a World Series appearance. So our long national nightmare is finally over, as is the 12 year run which saw 12 straight playoff appearances. Or perhaps, as a media frenzy the likes of which one rarely sees outside of election night in a Presidential year and a papal conclave will begin while the search for the next Yankee manager begins.

I am not sure how I feel about this situation. Not the end of the Torre era, per se, for once I was very clear about something when I wanted him fired. But I'm not sure this was the right way to do it. Plenty of people, I am sure are convinced that this was not the right way to do it. Buster Olney is one among many Torre apologists with a premise so nice he wrote it thrice, and while I know I ought to believe what he believes without reservation, I don't. Not even when Ken Rosenthal of FOX Sports concurs.

Kevin Kennedy dazzled me by saying something perceptive about this situation. His take was that this deal let Joe Torre go out his way, with some measure of dignity. And in Kennedy's mind it was better than retaining Torre only to fire him unceremoniously should the Yankees stumble out of the gate next season. There is a strange method to his madness, or perhaps a even a blind squirrel finds a nut from time to time.

The problem is that there really was no way for the Yankees to resolve this situation whilst managing to be all things to all people. Based on his track record, as described by Buster Olney in a stunningly good piece for a change, of managing a very difficult assignment with quiet dignity, Joe Torre had so many friends and admirers in the media, particularly the national media, that the Yanks were going to catch hell for severing ties with Torre. Whether they fired him outright, or twisted his arm behind closed doors until Torre reached the point where he came out and quit, no one would believe that Steinbrenner didn't pull the trigger.

And as to whether the offer was disrespectful, how else could it have been done? This was as close to a win-win deal as could have been worked. If the deal had been good enough to accept and Torre took it, then the team would have been stuck with a nightmare situation of having to fire a very well-liked guy and changing horses in midstream next year. And they couldn't just call him in the office and boot him out the door, not after 12 years. But if he did take the deal, maybe it might have lit a fire under him and the team, which could have worked well in the end.

Torre had to go. Not to get any more biblical than I absolutely have to, but he was the guy from the Gospel parable of the talents (the ancient unit for measuring weight, particularly precious metals and not some ephemeral or ethereal skill for Red Sox fans). In the Gospel, a wealthy man gives three of his servants three different sums of money (talents of gold).

As the story goes, one guy invests and doubles his money. He gets to keep it when the master returns because he's so happy his servant did the right thing. The second guy doesn't generate quite as much in return for his initial sum, but he is also rewarded. The third guy digs a hole and buries his sum, so he presents it intact when the master returns. But he's also a jerk about it, so he complains about the master trying to reap where he didn't sow. The master gives him nothing.

To make a long story short, Joe Torre was given $1.2 billion dollars in talent (our sense, not the ancient sense) over the last seven seasons, and he might as well have buried it. A great many things happened, and some were beyond his control, to be fair. But at the end of the day, when George Steinbrenner opens his wallet, he wants a return on his investment. 12 straight playoff appearances isn't enough when the ultimate prizes eludes you for so long. To put it in perspective, Bill Clinton was the last President to host the Yankees at the White House. That's ancient history, if you're George Steinbrenner and it's your money.

Finally, I will conclude tonight with another installment of my impromptu series on the lower order organism that is the Cleveland Indians fan. Tonight, as I watched the game, I spotted a fat dude sporting a rally cap that stood out from the crowd for his vacuous appearance, which is in itself a feat I wouldn't have believed had I not seen it, what with the dismal view I have of the Clevelander's intelligence.

This tool wore a rally cap precariously perched on his massive noggin, which almost, but not quite drew attention away from his double chin. He also wore a terrible pair of glasses, which I initially mistook for Drew Carey glasses, probably because FOX insists on playing that shitty Cleveland Rocks song, which was a Drew Carey Show theme for a while. My friend the Cubs fan, however, shocked the world by noticing something I didn't for the first time in the last 5 years, and correctly identified the hideous glasses on his foolish fat face as Wild Thing glasses from Major League.

Oh yeah, the Red Sox managed to stave off elimination. I didn't want to say it, but I have to I guess.

Ladies and gentlemen, as depressed as I am that the New York Yankees are no longer playing while the Boston Red Sox still linger on in these playoffs, I have a more pressing concern on my mind. In my understanding of the pass interference rules, a defender cannot cover a pass receiver by standing in his face and raising his arms. That seems to me to be the very definition of face guarding.

And yet that is exactly how Jabari Greer covered Terrell Owens in the end zone on the attempted two point conversion which would have tied the game. Of somewhat less importance, that two point conversion would have clinched the victory in my fantasy game this week. It also would have given Buffalo a chance to win their first home Monday Night Football game in 13 years.

Of course if Tony Romo had taken care of the football just once and spared me an interception or the fumble, I would have won and that two point conversion wouldn't have mattered for fantasy purposes. I would still be bent about it, as anything that adversely impacts Terrell Owens is anathema in Cincinnati Kid land. And no matter what happens, next Sunday when the Patriots go down to Dallas, Randy Moss will still be the second best #81 on the field. But I'll explain why I feel Dallas will win this game as the week progresses.

Before I leave aside the NFL for the week, I have two things to say. First, I jinxed Romo and Owens by taunting a close friend whose fantasy game had already been decided by 0.1 points in his opponent's favor. And finally, hopefully this kid Foulk nailing the 53 yard field goal even after that late timeout trick invented by Shanahan earlier this season wiped what we thought was the game winner off the bear will end the trend and the debate.

Other people will be more interested in whether, or perhaps when, Joe Torre posts his resume on Monster.com in the next few days. I felt it was time for a change last season after they got crushed by the Tigers. I just got the feeling as I watched him in the last couple of seasons that he looked tired. That he was managing this team as though it were 1998, and the last six or seven seasons hadn't happened.

The Yankees have an interesting blend of old players and prospects like Hughes, Cabrera and Chamberlain coming on strong. It just might be time for a change, not because Torre is a bad guy, not by a long shot, nor a bad manager. But he's been in one place so long, how could things not stagnate after so long.

Torre has had great success. Even though the Sox are still alive, and he's on his way out the door, it will be a very, very, very long time before any two Red Sox managers match that level of success for that long. It might even require a miracle with this ownership group in place. Hell, one could win 5 straight World Series in Boston and still get fired for wearing his shoes in the cabin of John Henry's yacht or failing to genuflect when the RemDawg walks in the door.

But what am I to do going forward? I don't really want to see these Indians win the title, but for the next few days, I'll root harder for the Indians than I feel comfortable doing. Because anything is better than a Red Sox win. As my friend the Cubs fan said while this nightmare unfolded in the Bronx: "It looks like we're Rockies fans now."

I don't want to see the Dbacks win. Maybe it's a lingering aftertaste from the 2001 World Series. Maybe it's their terrible uniforms. Maybe it's because the last thing a real fan wants to see is the half-assed media circus that would surround the meeting of JD and Stephen Drew should the Sox and Diamondbacks play a World Series. I imagine Joe Buck and Tim McCarver could beat that to death before the first pitch would be thrown.

I'm intrigued at the prospect of who replaces Joe Torre, and I'll be posting on it in some detail in the not too distant future, even if it is after Steinbrenner makes his decision. I'm just too tired tonight. I will sign off with this thought: God help us all should the Pats, Celtics and Red Sox win it all this year. With so many miserable bastards involved in pulling the strings of these ghastly marionettes, this level of success cannot be healthy for the Republic.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I write this evening to demand that the Dallas police arrest one Drew Bledsoe for triple homicide. With one throw, he killed the Cowboy's chances of winning the game, my prediction that they would beat the Eagles and my fantasy football team's chances for victory. All of my players are done, all of the other cat's players are done. I came up 3 points short.

I like Drew Bledsoe as a QB. I wish him well, but I am seriously pissed at this week's turn of events. I was 3-1, tied for the lead in my division and for best record in the league. Now I'll go to 3-2, the tool who beat me is now in sole possession of said best record. I may stay tied for first, if Tomlinson and Gates are stifled by the Steelers.

A TD pass from Bledsoe would have won me the game. Especially if he threw it to TO or Jason Witten, both of whom were in my lineup. His interception got him -1.8 points on the day. Not only did he bring nothing to the table, he actually took things away. Seven sacks, three interceptions and a lost fumble. That will offset 223 yards passing, 24 yards rushing and a rushing TD.

Every criticism of Bledsoe was present in today's game. The Eagles pressured him up the middle, big time. He held the ball too long, refused to throw it away and took big sacks. Especially on first and second down in the two minute offense. He did make some big throws, too, to be fair. Especially the one to Terry Glenn that drew the pas interference call which brought the team down to the 3 yard line. Ironically, if Glenn had caught the ball it wouldn't have meant a damn thing in the real world but it would have put me in a better position to win the fantasy football game.

And then, he took the jam out of the collective doughnut of Dallas fans, idiots like me who played him in fantasy football, his coaches and his teammates. He found a wide open defender and drilled a perfect pass to him for 6 points. It was a classic Drew Bledsoe moment. I like his competitiveness and his confidence, but I hate the ghost in the machine that makes him make the fatal mistake at the big moment in the big game. Visions of Reggie White devouring Max Lane danced in my head all day today (Super Bowl XXXI, for those with short memories).

I suppose I ought to explain myself and the thought process that cost me the game. If I played Byron Leftwich in a much better matchup against the New York Jets, I win the game. It's that simple. It's a risk you take each week with the decisions you make as a fantasy owner. It's an artificial feeling of power that makes games which might not be so compelling in their own right more interesting. That's why they call it fantasy football, and not the Cincinnati Kid wins.

I took a chance, playing the Jaguars defense after a game where they were shredded by Mark Brunell and Santana Moss. They were facing Chad Pennigton who was ripping it up, throwing for over 300 yards against the Titans and the Patriots. It worked like a charm. They shutout the Jets, sacked Pennington five times, intercepted him three times, recovered a fumble and blocked a kick. All told, they got me 23 points, so I can only complain so much about Bledsoe.

What kills me is that I'm in a league that gives points for return yards. My opponent threw Rock Cartwright, JJ Arrington and Wes Welker at me. Welker got 12 points from his return yards alone (to go with 7 points from his receptions). Arrington and Cartwright didn't touch the ball on offense, but combined to score . I went with a more conventional lineup, Bledsoe, Larry Johnson, Deuce McAllister, Ronnie Brown, TO, Torry Holt, Jason Witten, Lawrence Tynes and the Jaguar defense. In addition to the kick returners, my opponent played Peyton Manning, Kevin Jones, Santana Moss, Robbie Gould and the Saints defense.

It was a brilliant ploy, each time a kick returner touches the ball he's going to get about 20 yards or so. That's 2 points a touch. I have a much more traditional lineup, and I took it for granted today. I didn't even look at my team this week, I just figured my lineup was good enough that I didn't need to tinker with it. That's what cost me the game.

But my fantasy woes this week tie back into the real world issues. I tricked myself into going with the Cowboys this week, and Bledsoe in fantasy football using the same rationale. I thought the Cowboys could handle the Eagle blitz package. The Eagles weren't doing anything particularly exotic. They just sent more people up the middle than the Cowboys could handle. It was a brutally elegant and simply devastating.

The Cowboys thought they could handle the blitz, and didn't communicate well up front. After all, linebacker and safeties weren't the one running free and hitting Bledsoe. The guys hitting Bledsoe most often were defensive tackle Darwin Walker and especially defensive end Dwight Howard. That means the offensive linemen aren't communicating effectively. They have to close down to the inside, that's an offensive lineman's fist responsibility. If one guy has to close down to the inside, some one has to move with him, and Dallas failed to do that time and time again.

It wasn't all Drew's fault all the time. But the big play at the end of the game was all Drew. It looked like he had the time, but just rushed the throw. As for the Dallas defense, I expected them to play more consistently than they did. At times they were great, and at times they didn't execute at all. Ware got caught inside on Westbrook's TD run. I thought LJ Smith held him on the play, but it wasn't called. But it evened out when Greg Ellis forced the fumble Ware returned for a TD thanks to LJ Smith's lackluster effort to tackle him.

Patrick Watkins, the rookie free safety, was burned badly on the 87 yard TD pass to Hank Baskett. He bit on the first part of a double move, and bit hard. Then to top it off, he had a chance to make the tackle, but failed to bring down the Philly receiver. But the flea flicker wasn't his fault. He covered it well enough. Donovan McNabb just made a great throw, and Pro Bowl strong safety Roy Williams misjudged the ball in flight and took the wrong angle. Two mistakes, which added up to 14 points. Dallas had the chance to win. They made some plays, but the Eagles made more plays and made bigger plays.

In the baseball world, rumors are flying fast and furious in the Bronx. Will The Boss fire/buy out Joe Torre? It's should be harder to say this about a guy who's taken his team to six World Series and won four since 1996, but I think it's time for a change in the Big Apple. A month, two weeks ago I would not have said it. Of course, that was before the Tigers quickly closed the Yankees out of the playoffs. The Yankees looked old, tired and listless compared to the Tigers. And now the buzzards are picking at the Yankee failure.

It's time for a new direction. The Yankees haven't won a championship since 2000. They haven't won a postseason series since their tragic collapse in 2004. They looked out of sorts against the Angels last year. They didn't look any better against the Tigers. They will likely lose Sheff, and ARod and Mussina might also be elsewhere next season. That's life in pro sports these days. It will be interesting to see what sort of team they field in 2007.

By a new direction, I don't mean Sweet Lou Pinella. Yes, he has experience and a World Series ring as a manager. Yes, he has historic ties to the Yankees as a player who was on Yankee champions in the 1970s. He's also a Tampa guy, and Tampa is the winter headquarters of the Boss. Does he have the temperament to manage for Steinbrenner? I don't think so. The Yankees will let a team like the Cubs make that mistake. If Torre goes, my money's on Girardi.