Long and annoying and probably redundant

Jim Rice is really picking at the low-hanging fruit, isn't he. Much like this humble blogger piling on him for idiotic statements made to a captive audience of children, who, I'm sure, when told Jim Rice would speak to them, said, as one, "Who?"

Yes, childrens, Jim Rice. Hall of Famer, kinda. Generally pleasant guy, not really, and certainly a role model for how to conduct one's self in the public spotlight. Yes, Jim Rice, slugger-ish, although remove one giant green wall from his statistics and you get, who? Steve Balboni? Rob Deer? 208 of his 382 home runs were hit at Fenway. Think of that what you will.

C'mon, Jim. You're not better than that. We all know it. You're grumpy and jealous and that's cool.

You're wondering why a selfish, brain-dead putz such as Manny Ramirez and be embraced by fans, despite the absurdity of his antics. Just last night he played a single into a triple ... just Manny being Manny. Oh, and Manny acted like a child, held out, has Satan's dad for an agent AND still got paid what he wanted to play where he wanted. THEN got suspended for PEDs. And no one but reporters, your favorite people, seemed to care. OK, he does look like a homeless guy in his uniform, which is approximately eight sizes too big. AND he violates Joe Torre's short-hair team policy every day, but that's more a knock and a slight against Torre than anyone else. But this is a different era.

You're wondering why Alex Rodriguez, also linked to steroids, linked to Madonna and Kate Hudson and apparently universally reviled by MLB players, who also happens to have Satan's dad for an agent, got not one, but two atrociously over-reached contracts for a guy whose baseball skills are measured only in now questionable home runs and little else. Oh, and his hair is bleach-tipped. I bet that just burns you up. But this is a different era.

But you're wondering mostly why everyone, even people who hate Derek Jeter, love Derek Jeter. Derek Jeter, the crowned-prince of New York. Derek Jeter, first-ballot Hall of Famer. Derek Jeter, who'll have significantly better statistics than you and at least four World Series, plus a pretty bitchin' nickname, when it's all over. Jeter will undoubtedly take his place among the legends of the game, for his play, for his character, for what he did and when and where and how.

So, Jim, what exactly was the point you were trying to make to children who barely knew you or your resume? Were you trying to teach children the right way to play - the right attitude and techniques? Or were you trying to prop your own ego by picking easily recognizable targets and wagging your crusty old finger at them, hoping one or two young brains would catch your vibe ... and do what, exactly? Ask for your autograph? Say you were wronged by baseball for having to wait so long for entrance into the Hall of Fame?

What's funny is the guy you went in with truly deserved to be there, but was a more likely target of your criticism. Was there a bigger showboat in MLB than Rickey Henderson, a guy who wore chains and neon-colored batting gloves and flashy sunglasses and literally walked to first 100 times each season? No, but Henderson was the best of his kind, a revolutionary player that combined speed and power, who single-handedly changed games. But Rick mercifully and conveniently escaped your outburst.

Hopefully Jimmy will spare our children and stand down from his misguided soapbox and do what most guys of his generation do, sign a limited number of autographs on specific memorabilia at the grand openings and reopening of Home Depots and local grocery stores. And hopefully, hopefully, those sponsors will take a zero off his paycheck each and every time he utters an opinion, even if it's "My, those are nice tiles," or, "Hey, I like Doritos, too."

Not surprisingly, Jeter and Rodriguez handled the incident with class. Manny probably has no idea what's going on, and probably doesn't care.