from the contra costa times:

The A's agreed to terms with right-handed pitcher Kirk Saarloos on a minor league contract for one year will include him among the spring training non-roster invites.

as you may know, kirk was one of my favorites when he was with the a's, which was a long, long time ago in a baseball galaxy far, far away. or so it seems. and after getting sent to the reds and having a bummer of a year, this could be a great thing. no, kirk won't make us contention-worthy. but he'll certainly light up the bullpen (with his smile) and increase the number of a's i can pick out of a line up to somewhere around 8. if i could, i'd do cartwheels at my desk (but there's not enough room. darn.).

i've been MIA for quite awhile, what with the sorry end to the season, injuries (and they weren't even mine!), and the rebuilding rumors. then came joe kennedy's death, which was incredibly sad (he was always a really nice and warm-hearted guy.). and marco being sent to a not-so-ritzy international destination. right around then, brian from the a's season ticket office called me, asking if we wanted to consider season tickets this year, somewhere behind or in close proximity to the bullpen. i wrangled with the idea, but expressed our desire to wait and see. will it be an awesome year with beane and co. trying to go for a championship? or will we get rid of anyone who looks remotely familiar and attempt to rebuild? so brian said he'd call back in a month of two.

and then the danny haren trade hit. i'm pretty sure i was in shock for a good few days, barely getting out of bed to brush my hair or make some toast, all the while dreaming of the day i almost got a danny haren jersey but instead came home with the worst sour apple cotton candy ever. and now my freebie jersey dreams can never be, unless i move to phoenix.

last week brian called again, and i didn't even have the heart to pick up the phone. he left a peppy message, but i knew my fate. no season tickets for me. in fact, we had rethought our decision to go to spring training to root on our boys (all that spreadsheeting for nothing).

and then today happened. nick swisher, the pyramid alehouse-loving hair chopper, is traded to the white sox. sure, i never gave him cookies, but still, he was a dancing machine in the dugout and fun to watch on the field, and i love how our righty and lefty nick swisher bobbleheads stand at attention on our bookcase. at least in chicago the pinstripes will elongate his line and make him look taller.