short attention span's guide to the weekend

The Reds on Saturday night showed why they won't be on the Cardinals' radar by Labor Day. Their outfielders don't get to enough balls, the left side of their infield is ridiculously charitable, the bullpen is down to one reliable body and if Eric Milton doesn't improve, the starting rotation is Harang, Arroyo, Undecided, To Be Determined and Not Available. Hitting comes and goes, even on a club that hits the way this one does. Pitching and defense stick around, game after game. The good news is, the people running things undertstand that.

Barry Bonds ties Babe Ruth and it's the third story on Sports Center

Fans are sheep: Oakland's gave Bonds a standing ovation and demanded a curtain call. The Giants are their biggest rival and Bonds their most hated opponent. Naturally, they cheered him Saturday. Can you say hypocrite?

Barbaro's ugly breaks in the Preakness won't set horse racing back the way Ruffian's broken leg did in 1975. That's only because racing had lots of fans to lose in 1975. Now, racing's as relevant as boxing and track and field.

West Sider Brett Wetterich followed up his win at the Byron Nelson by missing the cut at Colonial. That doesn't bode well for his U.S. Open chances, assuming he makes it through qualifying. Colonial is long and tight; Wetterich's boom-boom game is suited to long and wide open. Winged Foot is a minefield for players who don't hit it straight. Wetterich begins local Open qualifying Monday morning at 7:40, at Maketewah.

Haven't seen the DaVinci Code, won't see the DaVinci Code, don't care about the DaVinci Code.

Anyone else a little squirmy watching Vito and that diner cook, um, kiss on the Sopranos? Anyone watching Ultimate Fighter on Spike TV, wondering when, if ever, the Loveland guy Matt Hamill will fight? Anyone else waiting for Rescue Me to return on Fox? If you didn't catch it last year, try it this year. Denis Leary is worth the whole hour, by himself. Leary and Michael (Vic Mackey) Chiklis are the best reasons to watch television now. Better, probably, than listening to George Grande call every Red by his first name. Live big.