Trent Baalke still surprised contract ends in 2018, not 2081

We are all Stephen Curry’s tibia. Well, you are, anyway. I remain convinced it is better to be his pancreas.

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It was a slow day in the place we call “God’s Peculiar Sense Of Humor Come Alive,” so we begin in a happy place. Ryan Zimmerman and Ryan Howard have sued Al Jazeera America over the reporting that exposed their alleged connections to PEDs.

Why this is happy is because we will have at least a decent chance of finding out how good the reporting actually was on this story, and whether the new public figure tactic of swift and aggressive denials followed by lawyers in the air will serve better than the old no-comment followed days trying to craft a response that usually turns out to be a moderately sized pantload.

Beyond that, we can determine by their chances of getting into the Hall of Fame in seven or eight or ten years whether the morals-and-cops-of-the-game crowd’s influence on such things has waned.

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We will also find that out by seeing if Mike Piazza and Jeff Bagwell and their oft-whispered about PED use (or lack of same, if fairness is your guide) get into the Hall of Fame on Wednesday. We can pretty well write off Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens again based on the nearly 40 percent of exit polls, but more to the point, we can be assured of this.

Even people who used to grow purple about the Hall of Fame and its many arcane methodologies and personalities are now bored stiff talking about it, just as we yawned our way through Pete Rose’s final quixotic attempt to make baseball love him while he was going double or nothing on Homer Bailey’s last start. We flat stopped caring about Rose, maybe because Rose is of an elder generation, but probably more because of this:

We are now fully and completely bored. By Bonds, Clemens, Curt Schilling and the “snubs” of the Hall of Fame. By halls of fame in general. Perhaps one day by the increasing evidence that football is actually brain damage with shoes, as well. Everyone knows everyone’s position on everything due to endless yammering through constantly flapping cakeholes, thanks to the utterly predictable consequences of social media, and we have found in the end that we have dulled ourselves into a state of utter ennui.

I think this is a cultural advancement. Not for big social issues like justice, equality and decent health care and education, but when it comes to the stupefyingly trivial, give me vacant-eyed inertia every time.

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Former A’s brainpan Paul DePodesta’s move from the New York Mets to the Cleveland Browns doesn’t have to make sense. It’s all about the micromessages anyway, to wit:

• DePodesta thinks the Browns are a better longterm bet than the Mets.
• The Browns spend more time studying baseball than football.
• The Mets are interested in Johnny Manziel.

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Trent Baalke said he doesn’t know when his contract expires, which is of course a preposterous lie. But he will be surprised to learn that it is 2018, not 2081 as he has always suspected.

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And finally, My 2016 Hall of Fame ballot:

Arnold Rothstein.

Luke Walton’s won-lost record.

Draymond Green as Zlatan Ibrahimovic.

Tom Coughlin making grown men cry.

Johnny Manziel’s Las Vegas disguise.

The Florida Panthers’ new logo.

Charlie Brooker’s 2015 Wipe.

Kristaps Porzingis staring down Kent Bazemore.

Katie Nolan interviewing Brian Urlacher’s hair.

Men In Blazers interviewing Tony Pulis’ hat.

So until this time tomorrow, go away.