If you thought you didn't care about Jimmy Fallon, just wait for this post on the Oakland A's

Sometime around 2am tonight (tomorrow morning?), I'll get myself to the airport and be whisked, ever so gently, to Phoenix, Arizona, home of your Oakland Athletics spring training facility. This is the second year in a row I'll be going to the A's spring training, but there's something very different about this year.

I've heard of many of the players.

Nomar Garciaparra. Orlando Cabrera. Jason Giambi. Matt Holliday (who still hasn't touched the plate against the Padres from the playoff game in 2007, but that boat has sailed). To be honest, I am incredibly confused. We're signing actual players? Usually, Billy Beane does the exact opposite of this and, halfway through the year, right before the trade deadline, trades off everyone good for half a year of a veteran. But, this year, we're overloading on tenuous offense early in the season. If Eric Chavez stays healthy, it's almost like a real lineup.

Usually, the mantra for the A's in the beginning of the season is, "If people can stay healthy, we have a shot at winning." But it seems like this year, the mantra is, "If enough people can stay healthy, we have a shot at winning." And I like that a lot better.

But I'm still confused. I don't get you Billy Beane...I don't get you at all. Just get us into the playoffs.

All that being said, Bobby Crosby was the starting shortstop for the A's until about two days ago, when Oakland signed both Orlando Cabrera and Nomar Garciaparra. A former Rookie of the Year, Crosby's got to be pretty unhappy he quickly he went from starter to third string. He's made it clear that he'd rather play everyday somewhere else, but man. What a slap in the face. Maybe if he played more than 50 games a year it wouldn't be such an issue.

So, to sum up: what the fuck is going on in the Oakland front offices? Only time will tell, but I'm a lot more excited about spring training than I was when I booked the tickets in December. We're in it to win it this year. Or, at least contend. Let's start small.