Andrew and Dad's Bar-b-que Weekend, Year 4, Part 3

 Slaps BBQ

Andrew and I arrived at Slaps, located in the Strawberry Hill neighborhood of Kansas City on the Kansas side, and the first thing we noticed was all the people standing around. It was Sunday morning. The place didn’t open for another five minutes, and yet there was a line out of the door and the parking lot was three-quarters full with a line of cars waiting to turn in and fill up the few remaining spots. We quickly secured our spot in line, but once the doors opened, we had made our order, paid, and received our food within five minutes.  Long lines, short wait. This was the first of many contradictions in this meal which led us to determine that Slaps was good, and it was not so good.

Not starved from the BBQ carnage of the day prior, we opted for a sampler plate, the Cattleman’s Platter, which had burnt ends, brisket, and beef sausage (good!). The server placed the meat on the platter, and was careful to count: four slices of brisket, 12 thin slices of sausage, and 6 chunks of burnt ends—no, make that five. She must have miscounted and took one away, putting it back in the smoker (not good). To be clear, I don’t expect any extra consideration when I patronize an establishment, but this is a competitive business in a competitive town, and there are other places that wouldn’t have been so…exacting. Perhaps they were afraid they would run out food. Regardless, this meal came to a mere 21 dollars, which with the two sides, made for a pretty good value. So far, the equation had balanced itself out.

We chose the bacon mac and cheese and the cheese curds for our two sides. Extra sauce cups were advertised as twenty-five cents apiece extra (not good), so we ordered two, but I don’t think we were charged. This is because just outside in the heated screened porch, there were two massive bottles of each of their signature sauces with cups for the filling. We filled (very good).

Sitting at our picnic-style table with our food in front of us, we attempted to count out who gets how much of each portion, which was hard considering there wasn’t a lot for oversampling. Burnt ends were cut in half to stretch them further. Very moist with a good fat content (good), decent smoke (neutral), but almost non-existent bark (not good). The brisket was the same; great moisture (good) with decent smoke (neutral), but this meat surprised us the most. It had a sweetness to it that made us feel as if we were eating meat candy (uh, wow). That was unexpected and quite lovely. Finally, the sausage was superb. Great smoky, juicy, but skinny pieces of love. The contradictions kept adding up.

The sides were a letdown. The Bacon mac and cheese was creamy (good) but came in a very small sample cup (not good) and contained one small fragment of bacon that imparted zero bacon flavor on the dish (really not good). Had the Federal Trade Commission showed up for lunch, they might have had a truth in advertising case on their hands. The other side dish, the cheese curds, was made to order, so came out piping hot a mere two minutes after we sat down (good). Honestly, you can find better fried curds at DQ or A&W (just okay). 

We sampled all of this, and had a few samples of each item left, so we went for the sauce. This is where things really started to look up for Slaps. The sauces kept pace with the contradictions. The sweet sauce was super heavy on the molasses. When applied to the sweet brisket, it was glorious, redefining what bar-b-que can be. On the other hand, the spicy sauce was stingy spicy, the sting lingering on the lips and tongue for minutes afterwards. When applied to the brisket, it created an entirely new dish. Beautiful contradictions. Andrew and I became so enamored with the sauces that we put them on everything, fighting over the two slices of bread that acted as the bed for the sample meats so we could soak up the remaining sauce in our sample cups. We both raved about how good the sauces were, and we both spoke at the same time: I said, “The sweet sauce is awesome!” while he said, “I love the spicy sauce!”  We just smiled at each other (good). We decided it was good enough to ask the lady at the window if we could buy a bottle of each. Unfortunately, she said that they don’t sell bottled sauce there, but we could wait until the Ace Hardware up the street opened to buy some (not good; we were leaving town right afterwards.)

Bottom line, in a town crazed with bar-b-que, Slaps has an outstanding following. People love their food, and for good reason. Is there better bar-b-que in KC? I think so, but the price point and the sauces alone are enough to make us consider coming back next time we are in town.

Andrew and Dad's Bar-b-que Weekend, Year 4, Part 2

 BB’s Lawnside BBQ

“Turn Right on 85^th and go South about 60 Years.” This is the motto that B.B.’s Lawnside BBQ has adopted, and the restaurant’s tone and atmosphere certainly reflect that. B.B.’s puts a lot of emphasis on the dining experience; that is to say that food and live music go together like the holy trinity of onions, carrots, and celery in Cajun dishes, of which there are plenty at BB’s.

Nestled in the semi-underdeveloped south KC MO Legacy East neighborhood, this is another Kansas City institution that could slide under the radar due to location, but doesn’t because local great secrets don’t stay local for long when it comes to Kansas City bar-b-que.  BB’s is part bar on one end, part live-music stage on the other end, and part communal picnic table-style BBQ restaurant in the middle. It doesn’t have the dive feel of a Big T’s or LC’s. More spacious and clean, the character jumps out of the walls; every square inch of wall space, including the restrooms, has posters, fliers, stickers and memorabilia that revolve around blues music and BBQ, a working dichotomy that challenges the status quo.

It’s a very welcoming place too, not pretentious-serious, or blue-collar-serious, which seem to be the two opposing styles of the modern-day KC BBQ scene: new versus old, battling it out for the heart and soul of the city. Now, I can appreciate the tone set by a serious restaurant or dive as part of its culture, or ambiance, or even its charm, but my base standard always remains functional service. BB’s is better than that because it goes beyond functional, even welcoming. From the greeting to the check, the wait staff made me feel like I was a part of their family and they truly wanted me to be happy with my experience. When you go to BB’s you go there to have fun. Going “South about 60 Years” doesn’t just mean the music.

The meat is middling. Both Andrew and I agreed on this point. After one setting, I can’t say that the smoke is what will bring me back, because it was very light on the smoke, the exact opposite of LC’s. Now, granted my palate is not what it used to be, but the burnt end sandwich tasted like a sandwich made from pot roast that had come from a crock pot. For comparisons-sake, the reasons that Arthur Bryants’ burnt ends are so good is that they have just enough bark, they keep enough of their fat content, and their sauce is lovely. At BB’s, the burn ends have little bark, and though they have retained their moisture, there wasn’t the flavor that comes from the bark and fat that makes a burnt end…well…a burnt end. Without bar-b-que sauce, they were doomed to mediocrity. It took copious amounts of sauce and a little imagination to bring out any flavor. The ribs fared no better than the burnt ends, but for a different reason. They were smoked too long and lost all of their tenderness, once again relying on the sauce to compensate. This was the only disappointing part of the evening for Andrew and me.

But BB’s sauce is different. The sauce one of the edible areas in which they shine. They sport three sauces, the original, the hot, and the habanero peach. My helpful server suggested the habanero peach, and I was hesitant, bringing  to mind pain and sweat and a little more pain. No, this sauce was different. It was super sweet, balanced with just enough heat to cause a little bite afterwards. If Georgia and Texas were to hook up one night, this sauce would be the result. I am not a fan of hot bar-b-que sauce, but I was a fan of BB’s.

And so it seems “sweet” is what BB’s does best, which brings me to the highlight of the night. Known for their bread pudding, it came hot and plentiful. Again, not something I would normally eat, it was the star of the meal. Moist with sparse raisons, and drenched in their famous sweet bourbon glace, the bread pudding was tantamount to the best iced cinnamon roll we have ever eaten. Our only regret was that one of us didn’t order the fried version.

I made it a point to ask the waitress her suggestion for sides, and when she offered the skillet fries, a house favorite that takes on the diner’s conception of what breakfast diced potatoes are, I scoffed and ordered the battered fries. This was a rookie mistake on my part. Always go with the wait staff’s suggestion. The battered fries were 4 huge potato wedges that were so lightly battered it was as if I were eating a baked potato without the aid of butter or sour cream. Next time I will do better.

To fully experience BB’s Lawnside BBQ, go on a Saturday afternoon from 2:00 to 5:00, or 6:00 and later (the latter with a $5 cover) so that you can appreciate the live music. Order the bread pudding. Scratch that. Order two orders of the bread pudding, and whatever meat you choose, don’t forget the sauce. It’s great, and free, as it should be in any respectable bar-b-que restaurant. Go with the family, occupy a picnic table, and soak in the atmosphere of a bygone era still holding onto its roots.

Andrew and Dad's Bar-b-que Weekend, Year 4, Part 1

 

LC’s Bar-B-Q

The word “dive” when referred to a restaurant, can have a negative connotation, but in using it when describing LC’s Bar-B-Q, it is written with deep respect, for LC’s is a serious dive.

Situated next to the Blue River, which is anything but blue, LC’s Bar-B-Q shares its neighborhood with a couple of used car dealers, a garbage dump service, and a garage, which means its customers are coming there, not because they spotted it on the way home from church and just want to try it out because of a fancy neon sign. Their customers are intentional, serious eaters of bar-b-que, and they come to this neighborhood joint from all over the city for some serious bar-b-que. Maybe the Blue River is named after the blue collar locals that are the lifeblood of this community.

When peering through the barred windows, one can see that the inside mimics the outside. Small, cramped, undusted, unglamorous, and serious, it brings to mind Grimaldi’s Pizza in Brooklyn where the food is serious and the food left on the table from last week is all part of the charm. The difference here being that at LC’s the tables are cleaned often enough that you don’t mind putting your elbows on the table when taking on a rib.

Walking through the door, the first thing that greeted Andrew and me were the long lines, one waiting to order on one side, and one waiting on their order on the other. The some-six or seven tables in the joint only hold some-24 to 28 people, which is why they probably added a stand-up table in the back corner that can accommodate a maximum of 3 people shoulder-to-shoulder. Each table had a paper towel holder. Some of the holders have paper towels. LC, the original owner who has since passed on, has an “office” memorialized to him against the west wall with two of his pictures hanging over a modest desk and chair, and three very large catfish hanging on the wall, acting as guardians to keep another stander from sitting down. The office takes up a four-foot square space, as unpretentious as everything else in LC’s.

The smoker is in your face, right behind the counter, and displays the bountiful stacks of meat they have for the day; when it’s gone, it’s gone. Better come back earlier tomorrow. Its lovely smoke will permeate your clothes upon entering. If your wife has you on a diet, you had better change and shower off the betrayal before you get home, or at least have the courtesy to bring some BBQ home for her as an apology. When you order, you wait a good 10 to 15 minutes before you’re served, but the serious gentleman behind the counter apologizes to you in a way that expresses years of practice. It’s just how things are done around here, and people don’t seem to care much because the meal is worth the wait.

When the food comes out, it doesn’t look very special. Each item is served individually on its own white Styrofoam plate or bowl, the white more easily showing the bar-b-que sauce dripping down the side and onto whatever gravity chooses for its final resting place. If you’re lucky enough to find a seat at one of the tables, the payoff comes next. If you haven’t gotten enough of the smoke in the air, you will get your share with the food. The burnt ends, both beef and pork, have a thick, crispy bark that shoves the smoke in your face, obtrusively, unapologetically. You’d have to have Covid mouth not to notice the smoke. In creating the bark, the meat’s moisture suffers slightly, which is why they pour a good helping of their tomato-based sweet and tangy house sauce on top. Two slices of white on bottom and one on top makes for a one-pound sandwich that must be eaten with a fork, or forks.

When you eat the sides, that’s where LC’s catfish guardians on the wall play in to the restaurant’s style. Spicy battered green beans that remind you of hush puppies, and panko-battered onion rings make you feel like you are at a fish fry. They, themselves, could pose as the meal, and you would walk out satisfied. It is this amalgamation of south meets KC’s Midwest that makes LC’s unique, as if LC’s needed any help in that arena. Top it off with a small portion of their peach cobbler, not that you had room for that, and you and a buddy are walking into the fresh-ish air outside a mere 30 dollars lighter in the wallet. Amazing price point! Maybe this is why an extra cup of sauce costs 50 cent--something I overlooked considering.

In this day and age of out-of-control inflation, LC’s is waging war for their customers. Go to LC’s Bar-B-Q if you want a traditional, original, blue-collar, Kansas City Bar-b-que experience.

Andrew and Dad's Barbeque Weekend, Part II

Burn Co wasn't a total bust, like, say, our belts, so we walked around the Riverwalk for a while to digest until our hotel room was ready. The plan was to hit Leon's Smoke Shack BBQ as late as possible to recover from lunch. Leon's was a total unknown. Only open Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, we had a feeling that we were in for a treat for a few reasons. First, any BBQ joint that is only open a few days a week is always going to be good. Period. They're only open three days a week because that's all they have to be open. I like that idea. I wonder if I can convince my boss of this philosophy?

The second reason I knew it was going to be good was because they didn't spend a lot of money on a restaurant kit to give it a certain tone or theme, or appeal. It wasn't professionally unprofessional like Burn Co with their industrial "we're trying to make the place look rustic by adding rusted corrugated tin and cement floors with metal ductwork hanging from the ceiling" vibe.  No, Leon's place was simple with its red and white padded seats around four or five tables, a bar with stools reminiscent of the '50's burger scene, and a lot of old model cars everywhere to round out the themeless decor. This was no kit. It was legit. You knew it before coming in when you had to walk past the smoker.  Legit.

Whereas Burn Co. was run by a bunch of young, good-looking, indifferent college kids in their professional outfits to round out the theme, Leon's was a family joint. When we walked in, we were greeted by a large man with a deep voice like Barry White, and a smile that could cure cancer. He was genuinely happy we were there. He let us choose which unwiped table we wanted, and within thirty seconds we were sipping on sweet lemonade. The place had a genuine Southern feel that made me think I was back in Georgia. It was wonderful.

Since Leon's wasn't known for anything in particular like Burn Co's "The Fatty", we decided to get a little bit of everything.  That's what the platter was called: A Little Bit of Everything. And it was a little bit of everything that could be smoked: pulled pork, chopped brisket, chicken breast, spare ribs, and thick-sliced bologna.  The meal came with four slices of bread and we ordered beans and potato salad.  Oh yeah, I forgot about the sausage!

Holy cow good!  The sausage--which was a type that he told me by name, and curse myself, I can't remember what it's called--it was amazing. Great smokey flavor, juicy with a little spice kick on the back side, I had to stop myself from eating it all and ruining my appetite for the rest of the meal. The bologna was homemade. I'm not a bologna fan, but this was definitely something to write about! Thick cut and smokey, melt in your mouth goodness. I decided to grade the sausage and bologna together. 8 for appearance, 8.5 for taste, and 8 for tenderness for a total score of 24.5 out of 27, or a school report card score of 89%.  Considering I don't even enjoy eating bologna, this is an unreal and slightly unfair score from a hard ass who should have just given it straight up 9's.

The pulled pork was next. At Leon's they chop it, almost shredded, which was fine with me.  They left some of the bark on, so you would get little black flecks of goodness in every bite.  That's brilliant. I must start chopping my pork from now on to achieve the same effect. I graded it down on appearance (a 6) because it looked like a scoop of mashed potatoes on the tray, but again, I'm being a little unfair since this is no-frills BBQ. The taste and tenderness both came in at an above average 7, for a total score of 20 out of 27, or a 74%. Looking back on this, I would probably increase each category by .5-1, but the pork was solid any way you cut it.  Get it?  Sorry.

Next was the ribs.  I love good ribs. These were decently good ribs. The first thing I noticed was that they were closer to baby back than spare ribs in size. At Leon's they don't do ribs wet. They have a dry rub that is simple, slightly tangy, and not overseasoned. Even though they looked dry from the outside, on the inside they were very moist, which is a secret BBQ people know and keep to themselves. My guess was apple juice, but it's only a guess. 6 for appearance, 7 for taste, and 7 for tenderness for a solid 20 out of 27, or another 74%. Like the pulled pork, good enough to get again on the next visit if it wasn't for other items...

Andrew was a big fan of the chicken. Again, I thought it was small and dry looking, and unlike the ribs, it was not tender and juicy.  Rubbery was closer to the word I would use.  With the same dry rub that the ribs had, this chicken was good enough that Andrew was reluctant to share. I gave it a 5 for appearance, 6 for taste, and 5 for tenderness for a total of 16 out of 27, or 59%. Since Andrew and I couldn't be more different, it's no surprise that we had completely different takes on the chicken.

I started with the sausage because it was the best item on our tray, so I will finish with the second best item, the brisket. Chopped like the pork, each bite had a little touch of bark, which was nice. The brisket had a great smokey flavor and was seasoned perfectly. Moist and melting in your mouth, this would have been the real winner of the night if it hadn't been for the sausage. Again, in scoop format, it only received a 6 out of 9 for appearance, but the taste and tenderness were both 8's. The brisket received a score of 22 out of 27 for a very solid 82%.  I wonder how good those last two scores would have been if the brisket had been sliced. I really don't know.

The potato salad and beans were solid sides.  The potato salad was sweet with just a very small hint of onion. Nothing makes potato salad worse than by adding raw chunks of overpowering onion, so here, Leon's did it right.  The beans on the other hand were very interesting, and in a good way. Unlike Burn Co., Leon's puts pulled pork in their beans. It's a small, but very important thing. What made the beans interesting was that they tasted like sweet potato pie! Did I mention I felt like I was in the South when I went to Leon's? Both the beans and potato salad: 7/9 (78%) but in retrospect, I should have scored the beans at 8 or 8.5. They were that good.

The atmosphere was very nice, the place a little dusty and dirty, as any serious BBQ joint should be. I scored the atmosphere at a very respectable 7.5 out of 9, or 83%. The one missing ingredient was the barbeque sauce. They had it for .50 cents a little tub-bowl thing. It's a small thing, but a very important thing. Does their sauce really cost so much to produce that they won't give it out with every paid meal? I found that odd to say the least and this was my only true criticism of Leon's Smoke Shack  BBQ.

At $25 for A Little Bit of Everything, you just feel like you're getting a deal, which you are. Value: 8 out of 9. Well done, Leon's. After the Burn Co. billfold bust, you are my new hero.

Overall grade: 84.9%. If you're curious, Andrew gave 9's across the board. He can't wait to go back. The Scoop: Drop $25 for A Little Bit of Everything, and then come back again for your favorites. Or better yet, order over the phone and pick it up for the game.

P.S. If you're curious about Part III: Oklahoma Joes, we were still so stuffed this morning when we woke up that we couldn't bear the thought of more barbeque. Maybe next year!

Andrew and Dad's Barbeque Weekend, Part I

I wanted a little bonding time with my fifteen year old son Andrew, who is growing up too fast for me. I knew that couldn't happen with everyone else around, so together, we created the first annual Andrew and Dad's BBQ Weekend. We considered KC for obvious reasons, but ultimately decided on an underrated but totally legit BBQ destination: Tulsa.

First, we did an exhaustive search online at all the barbeque restaurants in the Tulsa area, cutting the list down to three restaurants: Burn Co, Leon's, and Oklahoma Joes. Next we studied barbeque judging slips and came up with our own rubric to judge the meats. A score of 9 is excellent while a score of 1 means the meat was unfit for an alley cat. From there it was to Tulsa to eat meat like men and gain a few pounds.

Saturday for lunch we went to Burn Co. on the Riverwalk in Jenks. We chose this location, which wasn't the original, because we were afraid of long lines at the downtown original. As it was, the weather was a little soggy, and everyone stayed home, nearly giving us the whole place to ourselves.

The atmosphere may have been a little...down, unexciting but that was fine. It was better than the long lines outside that we had read about.

When you go to Burn Co., there's only one thing to eat: The Fatty. Gaining its fame from the Food Network, The Fatty is a Polish Sausage rolled up with breakfast sausage, ground up hot links, and wrapped in a lattice of bacon. After it's smoked, it is cut in inch-thick servings and usually between two buns or two slices of bread. We ordered the Family serving, which came with Three slices of Fatty without bread.  At first look, it's pretty intimidating.

Andrew was very impressed with The Fatty, since he didn't say a word while eating. He gave The Fatty a 9 out of 9 for appearance, a 9 out of 9 for tenderness (hello, it's mostly ground meat. It better be tender) and an 8 out of 9 for taste. Combine that with an 8 out of 9 for the sauce, he gave The Fatty a score of 34 out of 36 for a 96%, easily an A.

I wasn't as forgiving as Andrew. The Fatty was a lot of meat, so I felt I had to judge each meat separately and then together as a whole. Starting in the middle, the Polish sausage was just average, so-so. If anything, it was inferior in quality. I felt the breakfast sausage was above average, roughly Jimmy Dean quality, with a nice smokey flavor. The ground up hot link was very disappointing. It wasn't hot at all, the opposite of, say, Head Country, whose hot links should come with a roll of Tums as a side. The bacon lattice really didn't add much since it constituted so little of the Fatty slice. Put all the elements together, and it was pretty tasty, not the multitude of flavor dimensions I was expecting from the Food Network hype, but certainly above average. Mop it up with a heaping helping of the house sauce, and it was very palatable.  I gave it an 8 for appearance, a 7 for taste, and an 8 for tenderness for a total score of 23 out of 27, or a school grade of 85%. Solid B. Good, but not great like I was expecting.

Outside of the Fatty, we had the beans, and mac and cheese. I ordered the beans and fell in love with the smokey goodness of the shells and cheese, topped with corn flakes and bacon. It was a must have. Andrew ordered the mac and cheese and fell in love with the beans, which I thought tasted as if they came directly out of a Van Camp's can. Not inedible, but not good. Think of what Lenny and George ate around the campfire in Of Mice and Men. Along that quality.  In my book, beans must be accompanied by some pulled pork or brisket. After all, this is a barbeque restaurant! They were spicy, but bare bones...er beans.

The two of us walked out of Burn Co. having spent nearly $40. The beans cost $4 by themselves and were worth maybe .50 cents. The shells and cheese were $5 and worth every penny. The Fatty was $20, which was respectable considering it was a specialty item you just can't find anywhere else.  Add in a couple of drinks and a tip, and it's an expensive eat, which is why I gave Burn Co. a 4.5 out of 9 for value. With an atmosphere of 4 out of 9, Burn Co. received a generous school score of 71% from the two stuffed barbeque connoisseurs. The Scoop: get a side of mac and cheese and a small Fatty to say you've done it. Then go elsewhere next time.

What's in a Name?

Fantasy football season is here!  As anyone who has ever “played” this great game knows, it’s not about how strong a team you draft, or about the in-season moves you make, or whether or not you hoist the trophy at season’s end.  The most important part of fantasy football is the team name!

The team name is your theme.  It’s what your team is known for.  It’s more than a moniker.  It’s a lifestyle.  A way of being.  It’s iconic. It’s John Cusack’s boombox over his head playing “In Your Eyes” for Diane Court. Yeah, it’s that important.

I put a lot of thought into my team name each year.  I take the top 8 best team names I can conjure, place them into a bracket, and then whittle it down until the best one comes out on top.  There are three different categories of team names when considering what effect you are going for: pride, funny, and just plain questionable.  

First, let’s start with questionable.  Every year players throw out a name that makes the others in the league scratch their head.  (This is what I am normally guilty of. The year I won league, my team name was Bullseyes, because everybody had their best game against me.  Nobody got it. Yep, questionable.)  Take this year’s entrant: Electric Mud.  There’s gotta be a story, right?  Brad is employing some kind of pun, right?  Is it a play off of Debbie Gibson’s 1989 album “Electric Youth”?  Does he still have an infatuation with the greatest female teen idol of all time? 

 

All I know is that without some semblance of explanation, “Electric Mud” is questionable, maybe even brilliant, much like my last-place finish last year with Dalvin and the Chipmunks.  Just like the game of Hearts, it takes brilliance to finish dead last. Who knew Dalvin Cook was going to suck that bad?

Next, let’s talk about serious names.  My team name for years was Steel Curtain, in honor of the great 1970’s Pittsburgh Steelers defenses that dominated the NFL.  I still get emotional thinking about Mean Joe Greene giving that kid a Coke.  Steel Curtain represented more than a team name.  It was an attitude of toughness to which I expected my players to rise. One of the guys in our league has the team name Thunder Hogs.  It makes sense, since he is a huge Arkansas Razorbacks fan.  Obviously he’s throwing some love at his alma mater.  Respect.

 

Finally, there’s the best category, funny.  This could include movie titles, fads, or my favorite, puns.  Let’s start with movie titles.  One of our players’ team is named The Goonies.  Great movie, shows a slightly whimsical side.  This is a great team name. One of our guys years ago had the team name The High Plains Drifters.  Great Clint Eastwood flick! 

That’s doing it right.  There are fads as well, like Kelly’s team “Blu Blockers” like what the sombrero-wearing LA based rapper Dr. Geek and a few others way back in the late ‘80s and ‘90’s wore.  Blu Blockers. That’s an awesome name.  

 

Last year Kelly took a shot at Kevin Durant with his Durant’s Cupcakes.  Love it!

I saved the best for last: puns.  Kirk’s team name this year is Where the Cleats Have No Name, which is a play off the famous song “Where the Streets Have No Name” by U2.  Some of his past names include Sparkling Apple Spiders and Lizards of Oz.  Even though he wins the league more often than not, with names like these, he doesn’t have to worry about wins and losses.  In fact, I wish he wouldn’t.