I just got home a few minutes ago and I went onto the deck, grabbed a bottle of beer, popped it into my bottle couzie and sat down at the computer. So, yes, I’ll admit that I was having a brewski while writing this post. However, since I started writing this before I started drinking the beer and because the idea for this post was in my head before I wrote it, I wouldn’t say that the post is alcohol fueled or anything. Besides, even if I’d drunk the whole thing first, at my size it’s gonna take more than a bottle of beer to get me to the point where I’m babbling incoherently (or at least because of the alcohol).

It seems that everyone these days is self-absorbed. I mean, Gleeman’s got the ear thing going on, and Reusse, well we know that he’s written a few columns that were alcohol fueled back in the day – and I’m beginning to wonder if his latest diatribe wasn’t ghost written by Johnny Walker. I’m a big fan of Reusse – hell I stole the name “Stick and Ball Guy” from one of his columns – but it’s pretty apparent that he doesn’t think much of me or my kind. I suppose you could call Reusse a little bit of a blogger bigot. That’s a little disappointing – I’ve always thought that Ol’ Pat was a good guy. But, he’s got a stereotypical image of a blogger as being some loser writing in his undershorts in Mom’s basement. I might write a few columns in my undershorts, but the woman in this place isn’t my mother. Although, you’d never know it sometimes the way she bosses me around. Good grief. Let me give you an example. On Sunday mornings, I have to go and get a copy of the Minneapolis Star-Tribune. I don’t read the Strib – in print, that is. Hell, that woman needs her paper. I read it online.

I’m like the Strib’s worst nightmare. I never pay for their product, but I get it all the same from their free webpage. But, my mother wife, no, she’s still well within the clutches of the old Strib business model. Curses! I got shell out $1.75 every Sunday and my reward is watching my wife rifle through the eight bazillion ads, plotting ways to spend every Bertin’ cent we have until we are living in a ditch outside a garbage incinerator or something.

Well, the Strib has figured out that in order to stay alive, they are going to have to do something other than hope freeloaders like myself will stop reading their newspaper in the tubes. So, they have had to resort to other, non-traditional means to raise revenue and interest in their product. Interestingly, they are the first industry in America to ever have to do something like this in the face of a technological revolution or from competition from new and previously unforeseen sources. Patrick Reusse is absolutely correct to decry bloggers. Heavens! We wouldn’t want the populace engaged in the creation and dissemination of information. Some of it might be inaccurate. Better off leaving such tasks to the professionals.

So, I got this stupid copy of the paper on Sunday.

Okay, I’m gonna go off on a rant. It turns out that the Strib has a sports columnist named Sid Hartman. Now, Sid never graduated from college. Hell, he never even graduated from high school. These days, a high school dropout usually ends up working at McDonald’s or something. Of course, if you aren’t up for that, working as a sports columnist is always an option. Anyway, I read Sid’s insight on the T-Wolves. Most everyone who looks at the T-Wolves says that the Wolves’ biggest problem is the amateurish way that the front office has run the franchise. Most people would say that the Wolves roster is filled with marginal players at best that the front office has handed outrageous contracts. In fact, I’m of the belief that it’s almost impossible to f*** up a roster more than what Kevin McHale has done in Minnesota (unless your name is Isiah Thomas). Of course, I’m just a moron with a computer. What do I know. I should look to the professional sports writer for an answer. And by all means, I should never, ever publish my own thoughts.

So, I look toward an 87-year old high school dropout who is a walking conflict of interest for guidance. And what does Grandpa Sports tell me? Well, he tells me that the owner of the team, Glen Taylor, says that the problem is “Team Chemistry”. Taylor is the guy that hired McHale. While McHale made one boneheaded move after another, Taylor defended McHale and has said repeatedly that McHale has his job for as long as he wants it. See, there comes a point in time, in my opinion, where a boss becomes responsible for a subordinate’s incompetence. That point in time occurred for Taylor vis-à-vis McHale a long bertin’ time ago. When Taylor says that “he doesn't believe that personnel is the problem. Rather, it's a lack of chemistry and the inability to play as a unit that has led to a number of defeats” I just shake my head. Taylor's been having a little PR problem lately, but never fear. Sid'll write a column to defend him. All Taylor's probably gotta do is buy Sid a silver butter knife steak or something.

I’m a huge NBA fan and I love KG, but I’m not even watching games anymore and I wouldn’t even think about actually buying a ticket to a game to watch that collective group of misfits squander one game after another and in the larger sense the prime of a Hall of Famer’s career. I’m the customer and in other industries, the customer is always right. I’ve watched basketball forever and I think it’s that the team is almost devoid of talent. Most everyone else says that the team is devoid of talent. But, the 87-year old high school dropout, who should just get his nose tattooed brown and get it over with, tells me through the owner of the team the problem isn’t with the front office. No. The problem is the players. Not that they aren’t talented, but that there are chemistry issues. And the 87-year old high school dropout, who mentored Patrick Reusse when he was a young man, prints it as if it were the truth. Yep. There’s no room for anyone else to write what they think. Leave it to the experts.

Reusse justifies his opinion by pointing out that some bloggers aren’t very good and hell, anyone can have a blog. So what? The people vote about these things. Blogs that aren’t very good don’t get read. And when columnists just kiss ass for access until their lips are chapped, more and more people are saying “No thanks”. Reusse writes that the word "BLOG" is "an acronym for boot licking, obfuscation and grandiosity." If that doesn't describe Hartman's column, then I'm Reusse's uncle.

But, hey, it’s not like people aren’t reading Sid Hartman’s column. People are reading it to death. But, increasingly other competition chips away. Sid’ll never change – he’s gonna be Sid until he dies (or all his readers do, whatever comes first -- and it's not an easy bet right now). And Top Jimmy, who was once, in my opinion, a helluva beat writer, is going to write absolutely painful columns with stupid one-liners that fret about whether the Twins will be able to retain Torii Hunter long after he ceased being even their fourth priority. But people like Reusse are going to have to face what so many Americans have faced in other industries: adapt or die.

Reusse’s diatribe reminds me of Dave Letterman’s relentless attack on cable television about 20 or so years ago. Letterman, whom I loved in college – his show started when I was a senior in high school – kept making fun of cable TV. I loved Dave but man, was he off base. Cable was the future. Anyone could see that. I love Dave, but I watch Colbert Report. On cable. Sorry Dave. You were the man.

Anyway, back to the Strib. They’ve offered their readers more access through their bloggers. They’ve made their beat writers accessible to the public. They are providing more and better coverage. I think it's gonna be great. (And hell, I might even be willing to gulp! pay for some of that type of content.) And Reusse doesn’t like it. So, he takes it out on a bunch of people who are so passionate about the Twins that they spend countless hours writing about the team and expressing their thoughts for little or no compensation whatsoever. They argue about the team, its players and its managers. They buy tickets to games, they watch the games on TV – they are the team’s most loyal customers. Reusse compares them to a bunch of bums. Yes, he says that the Bum is gonna have a blog in the Strib, but come on. Is he saying that the beat writers at the Strib are akin to a homeless bum?

Well, Reusse’s written some pretty funny stuff. I think he’s got a sense of humor so maybe he’ll appreciate that I finally got some use out of that Sunday newspaper. I don’t really live down at the incinerator. I have a residence and we have cats. My wife is pregnant, so I have the job of cleaning the litter boxes. And tonight’s my night to do that. But, I gotta do something with the spent litter.