New venture - just a click away!

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For my latest post, click here to check out my brand new page at SportsFanLive.

While you're there, do go to their home page and read some of their other talented contributors.

About once a week, I'll be writing exclusively for SportsFanLive. When I do, I'll always give you a heads-up here at TBT. Hey, I like to keep you on your toes ... but you shouldn't have to work too hard to find my stuff!

Does any GM try harder to win than White Sox GM?

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The Bald Truth

So many GMs in all sports try to avoid embarrassment. They try to avoid "losing" a trade. They try their hardest not to lose instead of to win.

And then there's Kenny Williams.

The White Sox and their fans are very lucky that their guy will do pretty much anything legal to win. Victory - ultimate victory, like the team experienced in 2005 - is the only thing that matters to Williams.

Hey, I'm not sure if Alex Rios is a great player waiting to bust out, a very good player who already has peaked, a good player who never will be great, or an OK player who is vastly overpaid.

What I am sure of is that claiming him on waivers from the salary-dumping Blue Jays was worth a shot.

The arrival of Rios and his $61 million contract through 2014 - along with last month's stunning deal for big-money ace Jake Peavy - almost surely means that Jermaine Dye and/or Jim Thome won't be back next season. So be it.

Where Rios will play is another matter. Ozzie Guillen, a manager who often doesn't get the credit he deserves for his ability as a strategist, will find creative ways to fit five players - Rios, Dye, Thome, Carlos Quentin and Scott Podsednik - into four slots.

Besides, given the injury histories of Dye, Thome, Quentin and Podsednik, the acquisition of Rios could end of being the difference in the AL Central race. If the White Sox don't win, it won't be because they had too many outfielders and DHs.

Bottom line: If Kenny Williams believes so much in Alex Rios, I'm willing to give the player the benefit of the doubt.

Williams is right a hell of a lot more often than he is wrong. And even when he's wrong, he's wrong in a good way because all he cares about is winning.

The Quote

"There was a dispute over the fee and it just kind of escalated from there. It was not really a robbery. That is probably a large distortion of what happened. I think we should be able to work things out." - Andrew LoTempio, the lawyer for the Buffalo cabbie who allegedly was assaulted by Blackhawks star Patrick "20 Cent" Kane over chump change.

Those were a lot of words to say what one word would have covered: Ka-ching!

A large distortion? Yeah, by the lawyer's obviously beat-up client - who repeatedly told TV stations, radio outlets and newspaper reporters what a thug Kane was.

Now this client suddenly seems willing to, um, negotiate with Kane concerning the level of punishment that actually was doled out by the hockey player.

What a country.

The Balder Truth

Well, Lou Piniella argued. He got ejected. His Cubbies got thumped in Denver. And then they got thumped again.

So much for the dopey theory that if Lou goes ballistic, the Cubs will break out of their slumps.

If baseball worked like that, don't you think more managers would get the heave-ho more often?

So please give it a rest, dopey theorists.

THE BALDEST TRUTH

Finally got to see The Hangover on Monday. Verdict: I hadn't laughed so hard at a movie since Borat.

And if you think that's just because I'm a guy who is into stupid, sick-humor buddy movies, Mrs. N also laughed her keister off.

No, it's not for the kiddies. And yes, it is quite stupid. But there were very few 45-second stretches in which everybody in the theater wasn't downright delirious.

Roger Ebert gave it 3 1/2 stars ... and who am I to disagree?

3 1/2 bald heads for The Hangover.

Was Kane really able to do such a thing?

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The Bald Truth

The first time I read the Patrick Kane story, I couldn't believe it. So I surfed the 'Net and found more versions of it. And it still seems too absurd to be true.

For those unfamiliar with the whole shebang: The 20-year-old Blackhawks star - the carefully marketed, baby-faced face of the franchise - supposedly beat the crap out of a Buffalo cabbie over 20 cents.

The CliffsNotes version: He and his cousin, James Kane, allegedly handed the cabbie $15 cash for a $13.80 fare after a night of partying. After the driver gave the Kanes a dollar back but said he didn't have 20 cents in coins, according to the police report, one of the Kanes tore money from the driver's hand and both punched the driver in the face and head.

(Click here for the TV interview of the cab driver.)

"They broke my glasses. They ripped my clothes off. All over 20 cents," the cabbie told the Chicago Tribune.

As I said earlier: Un-freakin'-believable.

But is it? Is it really?

Is there anything that pro athletes - so full of wealth, testosterone, feelings of invincibility and senses of entitlement - are above doing?

Even sweet-looking kids like Patrick Kane, the new EA Sports NHL '10 video game coverboy and a prospective U.S. Olympian?

Hey, I'm not here to convict Patrick Kane. I don't know all the facts. The only people who really know what happened in that cab are the Kanes and the cabbie. Over time, hopefully everything will come to light.

All I know is that the most unbelievable actions involving jocks turn out to be all-too-believable anymore.

I'm determined to keep an open mind. A skeptical and cynical mind, yes, but an open one.

If these charges prove false, I hope Patrick Kane can have some semblance of a normal life and NHL career. If they prove true, however, I hope he rots in jail until he's ready for hockey's Senior Circuit.

The Balder Truth

I'm not supposed to joke about such a serious subject, but ...

I'm so, so, SO tempted to give Patrick Kane a new nickname that's sure to give him street cred:

"20 Cent," of course!

THE BALDEST TRUTH

Every time there's a story about a one-time multimillionaire athlete or rock star or actor going broke, the natural reaction is:

How? I couldn't spend all that money even if I tried!

Well, actually, you could. And these rich and famous people do. All the time.

A three-paragraph item tucked deep inside Sunday's Tribune tells of the real-estate transactions of one Rex Grossman, the QB Chicago fans learned to loathe until he was handed a one-way ticket out of Bear Country.

Seems that Grossman - who already was trying to sell his three-bedroom suburban townhome for $899,000 - now is trying to unload his 3,437-square-foot condo in the new Trump International Hotel & Tower downtown at a substantial loss from the $2.68 million he paid for it less than a year ago.

OK, I understand why Grossman bought the expensive home in the 'burbs. That's where the Bears train and the former No. 1 draft pick figured he'd be the team's starting quarterback for a decade. Plus, he bought it before the market went to crap.

But the Trump place? Really? He thought $2.68 million was a bargain for a condo in a declining market? And he thought buying a second place in Bear Country was a good idea even though the team had lost all faith in him and practically was holding the exit door open for him?

Either he got bad advice, he's really stupid or a little of both.

Maybe Rex has made dozens of great investments and that was just a bad one. Maybe he's got more money than God and would laugh at his name even being mentioned in this blog post.

Still, such silliness is just one of hundreds of examples I can give you illustrating how a millionaire can become a bankrupt ex-millionaire faster than a mediocre QB can get picked off for a TD.

Triple digits, zero worries

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The swing that launched a thousand "Yikes!"

If you love golf but you've never walked a course while a caddie carries your bag, go ahead and treat yourself at least one time to playing the way the pros do.

I recently got to play in an Evans Scholar Foundation benefit event at Flossmoor Country Club. (Evans Scholars are young men and women who earn college scholarships through their academic achievements, their character and their work as caddies.)

My caddie at Flossmoor was Matt Banks, an engineering major at Illinois who is in his eighth year working at the course. He was a big part of one of the most enjoyable rounds of golf I've ever played.

I almost always walk when I golf but I use a pull cart, so I have a full-sized bag. Had I known I was going to employ a caddie at Flossmoor, I would have switched to something lighter.

Poor Matt. Not only did he have to watch me take lots and lots (and lots) of, um, unique swings ...

Well, at least my

practice-swing followthrough

wasn't (terribly) ugly.

... but he also had to lug around my heavy bag. Not talking Judge Smails heavy here, but heavy nonetheless.

Matt did so with a smile on his face for four-plus hours. His advice on the course, especially reading the greens, was most helpful. And he was a pleasure to get to know - polite and intelligent, with a good sense of humor. His parents should be proud.

Combine all that with ideal weather (80, sunny, light breeze), great playing partners (Tribune sportswriter Teddy Greenstein and club member Jimmy Lund) and the real star of the show (an exquisite renovation, performed by architect Ray Hearn and his crew, of an already pristine, esteemed course) ... and no wonder I had a sensational experience from beginning to end.

In fact, I challenge any other semi-avid golfer to have more fun shooting 103 than I did.

Jimmy and Teddy joined

Yours Baldly at The 19th Hole.

Pretty sure we solved

all the world's problems!

This Jason is slashing victim (at last)

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The Bald Truth

If this is the end of the line for Jason Giambi - and if there is a baseball god, it is - what will you miss most?

A. His heartfelt non-apologies for turning his rump into a syringe-cushion.

B. His tats and porn-star 'stache.

C. His slick fielding prowess at first base.

D. His juice-fueled theft of the 2000 AL MVP award.

The Balder Truth

Yankees? No problem.

Angels? No problem.

Indians? BIG PROBLEM, even with Mr. Perfect on the mound to oppose them.

If anybody out there has figured out the White Sox, please let me know the deal.

THE BALDEST TRUTH

I knew it wouldn't take long for Kyle Orton to hit his stride with the Broncos: Training camp has barely begun and Denver fans already are booing him.

What I really didn't expect, though, was for them to start chanting: "We want Rex!"

Remembering John Hughes, John Smoltz and Steven Tyler

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The List

My five favorite films written, directed and/or produced by John Hughes, who died Thursday after suffering a heart attack at age 59:

5. Home Alone. Just because Macaulay Culkin has become the butt of jokes, it doesn't mean this flick wasn't a blast. Sadly, this 1990 film was the last really good one Hughes made.

4. The Breakfast Club. From the script to the cast to the message, this was the best of the '80s Molly Ringwald trilogy. (Although I admit it: I laughed more at Sixteen Candles.)

3. Ferris Bueller's Day Off. In addition to giving a generation of teenagers fresh ideas on how to play hooky, this turned Matthew Broderick into a major star. Of course, it also turned him into Abe Froman, the Sausage King of Chicago.

2. National Lampoon's Vacation. Hughes wrote the perfect screenplay for Chevy Chase, whose Clark Griswold is one of the funniest screen dads ever. Watch this again and, as Clark would say, "You'll be whistling Zip-a-dee-doo-dah out your a--holes!"

1. Planes, Trains and Automobiles. Often overlooked on those "greatest comedy ever" lists that come out every year or two, this John Candy-Steve Martin buddy farce produced more laughs per minute than just about anything out there. I especially loved that Martin, who by 1987 pretty much had stopped being funny, was cast as the straight man for Candy, who was never funnier. As a result, Martin actually was funny again. Just because Hughes was known for his many coming-of-age flicks, it doesn't mean this film about and for grown-ups (OK, very immature grown-ups like me) wasn't numero uno. Three words sum it all up, folks: "Those aren't pillows!"

The Bald Truth

If John Smoltz is supposed to be the answer for the Red Sox, the question must be:

What future Hall of Famer with an 8.33 ERA should retire already?

The Balder Truth

I'm not sure the best plan is to put more money into the Cash For Clunkers program.

But really, enough about Milton Bradley and Barry Zito ...

THE BALDEST TRUTH

Aerosmith frontman Steven Tyler got hurt falling from a stage during a concert in South Dakota.

Jeesh. As if falling so far that one has to play a concert in South Dakota isn't painful enough.

Stop the press! Urlacher tells truth about himself

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The Bald Truth

Last year, anybody who dared say that Brian Urlacher was playing poorly got an earful from the Bears' proud middle linebacker.

Also, from Lovie Smith, Jerry Angelo, Bob Babich (Lovie's defensive coordinator wannabe), Lance Briggs, Peanut Tillman and from pretty much everybody who had anything to do with the team - including Staley, Mrs. McCaskey and the Galloping Ghost's ghost.

How dare we look at Brian The Great and view him as Brian The OK?

So I found it most interesting that, in a one-on-one interview with Tribune football writer Dan Pompei, Urlacher admitted he "got pushed around at times" last season.

"I wasn't happy with last year, put it that way. It wasn't one of those years I'll look back on and remember as a good year."

What? Didn't Brian get the memo that he could do no wrong?

Now 31, he has pronounced himself healthy, happy and rarin' to go. That must sound good to the intelligent Bear fans who know it was the defense - not the much-maligned offense - that most often condemned the team to defeat last season.

Because I'm an objective skeptic and not a fan, I think I'll wait until October or so to see if Urlacher had the right to declare, "I'm back" ... or if Michael Jordan should sue him for plagiarism.

The Quote

"Well, we've had a lot of injuries this year, Tony. We don't use that as an excuse, but ... " - Lou Piniella on Wednesday's "Pardon the Interruption."

Oh no, the Cubbie skipper never uses injuries as an excuse.

Except pretty much every day.

The Balder Truth

There's a reason Kyle Lohse has an 82-87 career record with a 4.67 ERA.

So if the Cardinals are waiting for the guy who went 15-6 with a 3.78 ERA last year, they might have a long wait.

For all the good work GM John Mozeliak did leading up to the trading deadline, the Cards still might find themselves an arm or two short at summer's end.

Archie's Boy/Peyton's Bro

Six years, $97 million? Good for you, Eli Manning!

That's a pretty nice haul for a guy who isn't even one of the top two QBs in his own family.

THE BALDEST TRUTH

Twenty-six years ago, a sweet, young Chicago woman named Roberta Palenica took a chance on a slightly overweight, extremely hairy, cocky, loud, East Coast knucklehead named Mike Nadel.

I'm glad she didn't think about it too much back on Aug. 6, 1983. Because if she had, she might have said: "I don't."

In the 26 years since, I've gotten a little thinner, a lot balder and, yes, even a little quieter (but only a little). My Robbie? She's more gorgeous now than ever. Really.

Here we are just a couple months ago at a Roger Clyne & The Peacemakers concert. What ever happened to the theory that men age more gracefully than women?

Anyway, I just want to wish my beautiful bride a Happy Anniversary and thank her for thinking I was an acceptable catch instead of throwing me back!

All Buehrle, all the time

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The Bald Truth

A week after Illinois politicians celebrated Mark Buehrle Day, the White Sox opened a three-game set against the Angels on Tuesday night with the opening act of what they are calling Mark Buehrle Appreciation Series.

And here's the best news:

It's less than five months until the start of Mark Buehrle Appreciation Decade!

The Quote

"In B.P., I'm Reggie Jackson. In a game, I might be Janet Jackson." - Torii Hunter, injured Angels center fielder, when asked how he did in batting practice before Tuesday's game.

The Balder Truth

Not that I don't like hyperbole as much as the next guy, but I almost choked on my free press-box snack mix Tuesday when Jerry Reinsdorf told Dewayne Wise and White Sox fans everywhere that the center fielder's perfect-game-saving grab "might have been the most important catch in the history of baseball."

Oh, absolutely. I believe it won several World Series, integrated the sport and solved the steroid problem. What a catch!

The Quote II

"Game-winners are always nice. But most importantly, we bounced back from the defeat on Sunday against the Mets." - Scott Podsednik

After being the hero for the White Sox yet again, Pods can be forgiven for being a little confused.

I believe those were the Yankees who beat the Sox on Sunday. You know, New York's other team.

THE BALDEST TRUTH

The first-place Tigers send new star pitcher Jarrod Washburn to the mound at home against the going-nowhere Orioles. Baltimore counters with Brian Matusz, who is making his MLB debut against the feared Detroit lineup.

Orioles 8, Tigers 2. Of course.

We may think we know but we don't ... and that's Reason No. 1 why sports is the only Reality TV worth watching.

Not that there's anything wrong with that

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The Bald Truth

Pretty much everybody except Greg Louganis and Billie Jean King has gone ballistic ever since Hawaii football coach Greg McMackin used a disparaging term for "gay" to describe a goofy dance-and-chant number that Notre Dame players performed before last year's Hawaii Bowl.

The university suspended McMackin for 30 days.

The Western Athletic Conference reprimanded him.

Notre Dame coach Charlie Weis said he was personally offended by McMackin's remark.

And Jay Mariotti immediately called for the White Sox to fire Ozzie Guillen.

The Balder Truth

I'm trying to decide which is more incredible:

That Randy Wells is the Cubs' best pitcher.

Or that it isn't even particularly close.

THE BALDEST TRUTH

Interesting responses to the poll question: "Are you for or against Michelle Wie being chosen for the U.S. Solheim Cup team?"

++ 5 percent: "For."

++ 4 percent: "Against."

++ 91 percent: "What's the Solheim Cup?"

Mark Prior: From perfect to unemployable, just like that

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The Bald Truth

Before he ever threw a big-league pitch, Mark Prior was heralded as a once-in-a-generation talent. He had the size, the demeanor, the poise, the mound presence, the intelligence, the command and the maturity of legend. And oh, did he ever have the stuff.

His mechanics? Perfect. One expert after another said that with his mechanics, he'd never get hurt.

When the Twins passed on him to draft their hometown boy, Joe Mauer, they were ridiculed for being stupid, cheap or both. (I guess now is as good a time as any to say their decision has turned out OK.)

The Cubs gave Prior such a huge signing bonus after they selected him in 2001 - $10.5 million - that it's still a record today.

Think about that. Think about how salaries in sports - baseball especially - have escalated. And yet this guy's bonus of eight years ago remains the gold standard.

The first time Mark Prior pitched for the Cubs, it was obvious he had "it" - that special something separating the superstars from everybody else.

Fans had such high expectations for him that I took to calling him Messiah Mark. Some ripped me for "making fun" of Prior, but the more observant readers realized I was poking fun at the worshippers, not the faux deity. (Besides, I liked how Messiah Mark Prior sounded. Kinda rolls off the tongue, no?)

He went 18-6 in 2003, his first full year in the majors. In the second half of that season, he was 10-1 with a 1.52 ERA. He was simply the best pitcher in the world, A SURE THING.

Prior continued to shine in the postseason and was only five outs away from a shutout victory that would have vaulted the Cubs into their first World Series in six decades. Though he, like his teammates and manager, choked away that game, his potential obviously was limitless.

More than a few surveys of GMs, managers, scouts and sportswriters concluded that, after old-timers Greg Maddux, Randy Johnson and Tom Glavine reached the 300-win plateau, it wouldn't happen again until Prior got to 300 some 15 or so years down the line.

Then came the injuries. One after another after another.

As the injuries piled up, experts began blaming flaws in his pitching mechanics for his plight. Some were the same experts who just a few years earlier had said his mechanics were perfect.

Many fans who once worshipped Messiah Mark suddenly were all over him. Baseball people, including some in the Cubs organization, were calling him a wimp.

He didn't know the difference between soreness and injury, they said. He had a low pain threshold. He was too selfish, too worried about his next contract, to man up.

What a wuss!

I wasn't Prior's friend or fan - that's not my job - but I did feel sorry for him, and I said so in several columns back then.

I didn't feel that way because of his ailments. After all, injuries are part of sports. And certainly not because the money train had stopped pulling into his depot. With the millions he made, he should be set for life.

No, I felt sorry for him because total strangers were questioning his integrity, passion, manhood and will to compete. These idiots somehow felt qualified to look into his brain and his heart. It wasn't until the surgeries began that people finally acknowledged: "Hey, you know what? This guy actually might be hurt."

As it turns out, he threw his final big-league pitch in 2006. The Cubs let him go a year later. The Padres signed him. More surgery followed. Last week, Prior was cut loose.

He is a 28-year-old has-been.

Although it has anything but a happy ending, his is among the most interesting stories of recent times. The cautionary tale to end all cautionary tales.

Whenever some young gun is compared to the all-time greats, I always think of Mark Prior.

And whenever a team drafts the next Can't Miss Kid, I say: "Hey, if Messiah Mark can miss, anybody can."

The Balder Truth

Pirates rookie Andrew McCutchen was so incredible Saturday - 4 hits, 4 runs, 3 HRs, 6 RBI - that he was honored as Future Red Sox Or Future Cub Of The Day.

THE BALDEST TRUTH

I promise. I'll never capitalize the "w" in Dewayne again.

The White Sox media guide lists the now-famous Perfect Game Preserver as DeWayne Wise. So do the lineup sheets and press notes that the team publishes on game days. But Wise says he wants the "w" lower-cased.

His wish is my command: Dewayne Wise, it is.

By the way, I really would have been impressed had Wise preserved a perfect game for Mark Buehrle on Sunday against the Yankees. Considering that Buehrle allowed seven runs on 12 hits in 4 1/3 innings, the Sox would have needed about 14 Dewaynes on the field (and maybe a couple on the other side of the outfield wall).

You know, there's only one word to describe this latest Buehrle performance: aWful.