2007-2008 NHL Awards Predictions

After the NHL announced the winners of the various trophies and awards for this past season, DCO began an in-depth process of making projections for the 2007-2008 season. Based on these projections, we believe we have come to reasonable conclusions as to who will win next year's post-season awards. The results:

Calder Trophy (best rookie) - Niklas Backstrom (WAS)
Selke Trophy (best defensive forward) - Boyd Gordon (WAS)
Norris Trophy (best defenseman) - Soon-to-be-acquired (via trade or free agency) elite defenseman (WAS)
Vezina Trophy (best goaltender) - Tie: Olaf Kolzig/Brent Johnson (WAS)
Lady Byng Trophy (sportsmanship/gentelmanly play) - Donald Brashear (WAS)
Jack Adams Award (oustanding coach) - Glen Hanlon (WAS)
Hart Trophy (MVP) - Alex Ovechkin (WAS)
Conn Smythe Trophy (playoff MVP) - Brooks Laich (think John Druce) (WAS)

It could happen.

MAO of the Week, 6-15

Just two weeks ago, we never thought we'd award a Manny Acta Optimist of the Week (MAO of the Week) Award to the Washington Times' Mark Zuckerman. Certainly not after his buzzkill of a column in which he chalked up a recent Nats hot streak (which continues to this day, actually) to nothing more than playing "lesser competition." Zuckerman's tounge-lashing from Manny Acta on that very subject seemed to seal his fate as an optimism-hater.

However, much as with Dmitri Young, Ronnie Belliard, Christian Guzman, and Chad Cordero, among others, there is Optimistic Redemption, in the form of this article from Monday. Zuckerman has thus been infected with 'Tism, and lays out eight reasons to celebrate these 2007 Nats. While these reasons may be nothing new to regular readers of this blog (we love and cherish all 20 or so of you), they are an encouraging sign that the message is spreading, The Plan is working, and success may not be as far away as anyone previously thought.

Welcome back to the fold, Mark. And if you want to write about Baltimore being a lesser team, we would not be opposed.

The Sweetest Sweep That Was Ever Swept

There's not much to say about tonight's game that we haven't already covered in our posts about the previous two games. Still, it is worth pointing out that once again the Nats knocked in runs with two outs, saw Dmitri Young improve his average, and got a tremendous outing from a "stopgap" pitcher (could J. Simontacci be sticking around for a while?). Also, Ryan Zimmerman finally chased down that elusive .250 (straight on to .300, Ryan).

Felipe Lopez, still swimming in Manny Acta's stern encouragement, brilliantly split the outfielders with a line drive in the 5th, and was likely robbed of another triple and RBI by the low (and possibly cheaply made, like the scoreboard) walls at Camden Yards, which couldn't contain the pronounced bounce produced by his shot. Ryan Langerhans also continued his relative renaissance with an RBI extra-base hit.

So, make that three for three, both in games and in the goals we laid out in the post earlier today: sweep the series, win the season series, and tie Baltimore in the standings. Peter Angelos and his shady media empire must be bubbling and boiling, much as the cheese on the Quiznos sub that is on tv right now. Delicious.

With that, we wrap up a dizzyingly successful series in Ballmer, and salute the many Nationals fans who made the trip to cheer on the boys in enemy territory. A final word from Master of 'Tism Manny? "We're inspired right now, and we're going to ride this as long as we can." As the late and utterly great Bon Scott might have said: Ride On, Manny. Ride on.

DCO Guest Blogger: George P. Pelecanos

With the Nats bludgeoning the Orioles this week in Charm City, the DC Optimist sought perspective from a passionnate, historically in-tune, and violently brilliant writer for this 95-north-based battle; a writer that both understands the local scene, and can provide awesome descriptions of bludgeoning. Who better than crime novellist-slash-television and film producer George P. Pelecanos, the District's most knowledgeable and consistent voice of the streets. Pelecanos's crime novels have exposed a side of DC's underbelly that is rarely looked at by Barbara Harrison, and when he isn't sending Private Investigator Derek Strange off to shove knives in racist drug runners' necks, he is penning some of the best episodes of the best television show ever based in Baltimore, The Wire. His recount of Felipe Lopez's brilliance last night in the 11th inning is below:

Felipe got back into the batter's box for what seemed like the thousanth time. In his last five trips to that proverbial dish, lined with white chalk that resembled only the finest in Colombian uncut, he flailed. He couldn't figure out how this game eluded him. Like a white Republican attempting a coup on the Mayor's office, his output had been almost laughable. Maybe he needed a bump of that China White to speed up his 47-ounce Louisville. Something had to force the shank of bad luck from his gut that was shoved there sometime in early May, when he was shifted to a new field post for the second time to again appease this frantically-run operation.

He thought about getting the call from Wayne Krivsky last season, how he was being sent to this newfangled operation sprouting up in the nation's capitol, stolen from Canada to appease the heavy-dollared residents of the neighboring suburbs, people who rushed through RFK's neighborhood as fast as possible on their way back to rolling green lawns and prominent Starbucks shops. Was he a second-rate shortstop, one that could stroke bombs over those short walls in the subtly-named Great American Ballpark, but was a bit more of a headache than a prodigy? He was dealt for a crusty old short named Royce Clayton, whose uniform collection seemed to house every team in the league. Was he no better than Clayton?

He tried in vain to stave this negativity, switching his batting entrance music at RFK to Ice Cube's "Today Was A Good Day," the 1994 Isley Brothers-sampling hit that described a perfect day in O'Shea Jackson's South Central nightmare. "No barkin' from the dog/No smog/and momma cooked the breakfast with no hog," he silently mimed to himself as he stepped to the plate for another fruitless at-bat back in DC. No song was going to bust him out of this slump, no matter how positive it was.

His eyes would glaze over as he sat through another pep-talk from that spritely new manager, Manny Acta, an upstanding guy he knew from his minor league stints, a guy he would always silently respect, but also a guy who seemed blind to the stark realities of failure. Felipe felt like he was living those realities, and that motivational benching Acta handed out to him last week hurt. He felt like one of those bratty kids from Vienna, whose cushy-government-employed mother would try to use taking the Escalade keys away as motivation to force that brat to work towards getting into his father's alma mater.

Maybe he was thinking too much during these tough times. He looked towards Baltimore's embattled closer Chris Ray, probably one of those Escalade kids he was just thinking about earlier, although with Ray's, and the entire Baltimore bullpen's recent struggles, taking away car keys would never be enough. Felipe looked at third, where that ebuillent journeyman Robert Fick, with his shock of red facial hair bursting from his face like bad acne began to stretch out a lead. Fick was always good for a laugh in the dugout, usually at the expense of the other journeyman bencher Tony Batista, him with that weird batting stance looked like a swooping crane. Maybe he ought to consult Tony about breaking out of this?

On second was newly acquired center fielder Ryan Langerhans, probably coming off of one of the worst batting droughts he had ever seen. Felipe knew that he shared an unsaid bond with Langerhans, whose strange arrival in the midst of a sub .150 batting swoon, suddenly energized the Nats.

On first was Christian Guzman, who spent all of his first year in DC in a slump, re-writing the books on ineptitude and free agent misery. Guzman's recent resurgence came at the expense of Felipe's natural position at shortstop. Sure he agreed to move to second base this season — he never thought his status as a player ever commanded any sort of reason to complain. He just wanted stability, consistency, and faith. The Nats sure did show faith in Guzman and the recent returns looked like they were clairvoyant in their assessment. Guzman was gutty, could leg out a triple and slapped balls all over cavernous RFK after he spent all of last year rehabbing a torn labrum. Felipe saw in Guzman the redemption of faith. Maybe now, in the 11th inning of this brewing local rivalry, fueled by a story-hungry sports media and bickering old billionares, he would have his redemption.

Felipe watched as Ray's second heave flew past his shins. Bill Miller, a showy old curmugeon, like all bastard umps, called strike. This was the last straw for Felipe. The struggles were taking their toll, he was thinking about snorting the batter's box for Christ's sake. He thought about his wife, he very own J-Lo, and how if he blew another opportunity like this he wouldn't be able to fund her charity work. She was good to him and had great hips. How could this fat slug, obviously tiring from 11 innings stacked on top of a rain delay ruin both his and his beautiful wife's ambitions.

Felipe stepped to Miller. It was like his mouth was possessed by foulness. The curses were going to fly out. There's no way that pitch was a strike, he enunciated in so many four letter words. Felipe then felt a sudden blast across his chest. He felt the modest goatee scrape across his cheek, and he could smell the faintly foul breath he felt during what seemed like an endless pep talk last week. It was Acta, smashing Felipe from the batter's box, away from the rising temper of Miller. "Another pep talk," groaned Felipe to himself. Acta briefly muttered a mangled combination of English, Spanish, and curse words. Maybe it wasn't so much a pep talk as it was a slap back into reality. Acta has wiped Felipe's slate clean.

After a few easy practice swings, Felipe returned to that drug-addled box, looked again at the fraying Ray and waited for another pitch. Felipe roped the slider over the first base line, causing the corpulent attention-whore Kevin Millar to dive frantically. Felipe ran, he knew he was fast, but after this hit, it was like spirits had arisen in his #2 jersey. He circled second to the sound of dissapointment from Dundalk's finest. It was like music to his ears. Redemption felt good, it sounded good, it reminded him of a line from a song he tried in vain to embrace earlier in the year. "Today I didn't even have to use my A.K." The bases would clear and so would his conscience.

*may not actually be written by George P. Pelecanos

The Chair(Manny) Has Spoken

Again, six runs scored with two outs. Again, double digit hits. Another nice start from Matt Chico. But what may be flying slightly under the radar here is the continual maturing of Manny Acta as a legitimate big-league manager.

What Man Act has done with this team is already noteworthy, and he should garner at the very least consideration for Manager of the Year. Last night he again showed he is not afraid to leave the dugout to have a friendly discussion with an umpire, and he put on a nice show of "calm down" with Felipe Lopez when the struggling second baseman disputed a called strike in the 11th. Acta knew they couldn't afford having Felipe tossed with two outs and the bases loaded in a tie game, even with his .230 batting average and 0-5 performance up to that point. What did ChairManny say? We don't know. "[spoke] a little Spanish," is all he revealed.

Whether he spoke Spanish, English, or any other language is irrelevant, for we all know by now that Manny speaks the more important univeral language of 'Tism. What else but a good dose of this language of eternal optimism could have pulled Felipe back from the brink, and inspired him to, two pitches after the dispute, sneak a tricky shot down the first base line for a base-clearing triple? What else could have kept the dugout together after a pair of late-inning leads evaporated and the Ballmer faithful smelled blood?

Let's also not forget the heroics of the overlooked Robert Fick and Ryan Langerhans. Fick's single in the 11th started it all (he played some nice defense, too), which Langerhans followed with a walk (a nice homer in the 5th, too), leading to Christian Guzman's walk and Felipe's redemption.

Now the Nats look for a win tonight that can fulfill three laudable accomplishments: a series sweep; a season series win; a tie with Ballmer in the standings. Yes, the team that drastically cut salary to win in the future is but a victory away from matching the team that went on a baffling spending spree in a half-assed attempt to win now.

A cobbled-together starting rotation putting forth solid effort after solid effort (with healthy arms on the way)? A roster full of hitters with potential that is finding its stride? A rookie manager coming into his own, one who has the full confidence and respect of his team and who relentelssly preaches 'tism, regardless of the odds or situation? That all equals Big Winner, maybe just in 70-75 games this year, but in a whole lot more down the road.

Mystics Win!

Yes, the first win of the season. That puts them at 1-8, the same record the Nationals had after nine games, and they are turning things around nicely, aren't they? The same can happen here. If the Mystics reach 9-25, then there will truly be reason for optimism.

The Plan Marches On

Another piece is falling into place: clutch hitting. Six runs with two outs tonight! Did the Nats have that many in the first 63 games of the season? With a 7-4 win over the Baltimore (not Washington) Orioles, broadcast with pride on the Mister Angelos Screws the Nats (MASN) network, Washington is but ten games under .500. Do we dare mention that they are just as many games out of the wild card spot? Probably not (yet), but regardless, records like 1-8 and 9-25 are becoming more distant memories, and may not have even happened.

It was great to hear a large (or at least loud) contingent of Nationals fans in our lovely neighbor's house tonight. It seems to us, based on this circumstantial-yet-convincing evidence, that a sizable portion of the Nationals' fan base resides in the Baltimore area, thus making it Washington "territory", thus making it essential to the team's survival that the Orioles be contracted (or moved to Montreal/San Juan) and the holy "territory" be preserved. Right, Peter? But we digress.

A great start to a new series in what is becoming a longer and longer stretch of success for the Nats (18-12 since that little eight-game losing streak that also may not have happened). We've always had faith in The Plan, but not even on our most optimistic day (which is every day) did we think so much could happen so soon.

Calm down, it's just one win against a lesser team, you say? Balderdash. Each win is as precious a building block for the future as each of these guys. A win against the Orioles might even be worth two Josh Smokers.

Finally, lest we forget, Chad gets his 100th save, also making some bad memories more distant. The Plan knows no bounds.

Another DC Turnaround in Progress

Time for a short break from worrying about non-stories and potentially brilliant trades to look at the oft-successful but also oft-ignored team in DC sports. No, not the six-time Attendance Champion Mystics, but the cruising-back-towards-elite-status DC United.

Remember the hand-wringing in late April, when not even a lighting storm could delay the divinely appointed inevitability of another United loss? Well take a look now: the team is undefeated in six games and has not lost since April 28, the latest triumph coming over that ineptly named team from New York.

The run has landed DC solidly in the middle of the Eastern Conference and primed for a Dmitri Young-like rise from oblivion. It won't be long before the East wakes up one morning and finds DC near the top of the standings again, much as Dmitri has appeared from nowhere to grab second place in the NL in batting average. Maybe it's an RFK thing. It must be.

A win with no decades-old grudges

In other cities, a contest against the team that abandoned you, no matter how long ago the abandonment was and no matter how over it you should be, would be cause for much city-wide chest thumping and maddened calls for "revenge". A defeat to this team, consequently, would cause city-wide despair.

In Washington, however, there was no such chest-thumping and no calls for revenge regarding the recently completed weekend series between the Nationals and the ex-Nationals/Senators (aka, Twins). Even if there were such sentiments, no despair would be necessary this Sunday night, because the Nats left Minnesota with a series win. It's even possible to imagine they could have left with a series sweep if Dmitri Young's first-inning bomb had strayed a few inches left and into fair territory. And speaking of that near-home run, was that King of 'Tism Manny Acta out on the field to (briefly) argue the call? It was good to see, and it was even better to see Man Act handle himself like a gentleman in such a situation, in contrast to...you know. So before we surrender to the consternation that is the Gilbert Arenas Situation, let's pause to enjoy a great weekend of DC baseball.

A quick stat: 34 hits in three games, led again by Young and Christian Guzman, who now see their team-leading batting averages stand at .342 and .346, respectively. The bats are back, they just need to be timed a little better to capitalize on the extra baserunners. What is needed to accomplish this is a little positive encouragement, not snippy criticisms. With the hitting improving and healthy pitching on the way, 'tism levels should be spiking about now. Having soundly left the Worst Team of All-Time talk behind them, these Nationals should head straight for .500 and not look back, landing ChairManny a Manager of the Year award in the process.

Going back to pitching for a moment, this weekend series also finally answered the question: Is Levale Speigner better than a Cy Young winner?

In all, a nice start to the gimmicky portion of the schedule. Next up, a series in the afformentioned revenge-thirsty Charm City.