ESPN's nearly worthless Page 3 goes through the mind-numbing task of tracking down the bad music that accompanies our baseball heroes as they come to bat, and don't bother getting the only one I'd actually want, Placido Polanco. I can STILL hear that short burst of a song, still unknown to me, piercing through the sweltering Midwest heat at Busch Stadium, calling you to attention. A bit of Latin with a joyous horn; out of place but oh so welcome.