Next Friday starting at 11:00 a.m., my TiVo says the National Geographic Channel will be airing a back-to-back-to-back marathon of “Who’s Aping Who,” a NGTV original miniseries devoted to adoring all that is primate.

           

The remarkable exploration begins with “Bringing Back Baby,” then “Heart and Minds” and finally “Social Climbing.” Personally, through this three-hour adventure I hope to see the Aye-aye (Daubentonia madagascariensis), an extraordinary nocturnal primate of Madagascar, the largest of its kind in the world, known for its exceptional elongated middle finger, used for gathering food in a similar manner to the Sulawesi Woodpecker. In its environment, the Aye-aye means not to offend when giving others “the finger”; you’re just dinner.

But the Aye-aye and its evolutionary edge to flip off the entire world is not my favorite mammal. The Star-nosed Mole (Condylura cristata), frequenting the friendly burrows of North America, is functionally blind but possesses over 100,000 sense receptors on its nasal tentacles alone. League office officials tell me Outlaws net minder Jesse Schwartzman keeps this beast furled underneath his chest protector, entangled in his taiga of curlicue chest hair, ready to leap out and devour errant shots in just fractions of a second. Schwartzman can thank this colonial beast for his league-leading goals against average.

Yet above all, one beast perplexes me far beyond any other creature. It is silent. It lies below the masses of other beings in its land. Little is known about its existence, its genealogy, even from where it emerges. It is a rare beast conventionally considered unfit for living and thriving within its environment. It is, quite simply, an enigmatic paradox.

 

It is one Casey Powell?

Matt Casey.

 

           

Wednesday morning, my e-mail alerted me of the following: I can buy “Viagre” and “Cialez” for $74.95 from “Canadian Health&Care Mall,” which “is licenced by Minnesota Board of Pharmacy” and that the Cannons acquired this animal Casey for a second-round draft pick. In the past, a second round draft pick has brought forth Keith Cromwell, Jeff Sonke, Kevin Leveille, Michael Howley, Conor Ford, Mike Levin, Matt Poskay, Brett Bucktooth, Geoff Snider, Brendan Mundorf, Brett Moyer, D.J. Driscoll, Jake Byrne and now Kevin Huntley.

           

Any of these players are really worth Casey—a seventh round Supplemental Draft selection from the frigid tundra of Ithaca College? Or was that blind Star-nosed Mole the one who orchestrated this trade?

           

Something about Casey befuddles me. Does his hair resemble the soft, bristled carpet of the Yeti Crab? Does he have the eight-foot-long pointed appendage of the Narwhals? Does he possess the gifted feet of the Sucker-footed Bat? Or do his ears remind me of the Long-eared Jerboa?

           

Alas, Casey does not belong to any of these atypical anomalies of the animal kingdom. Instead, he is a standout member of another bizarre breed, fit for its own National Geographic special: the defensive midfielder.

           

The same questions arise: from where did it evolve? Where is it indigenous? Can you grow one at home?

           

Little is known about the defensive midfielder because it lived in secrecy for years, shunned by the offensive-minded MLL. It has no history because no documents could be written about it. The defensive midfielder has no statistics. Offensive players collect points, goaltenders saves and long stick defensemen screams, howls and horror stories from victims as they assault them with six-feet of metal pain. 

           

Defensive midfielders, in most circumstances, don’t even grab many groundballs. Of the top 20 groundball leaders in the league, only three could be considered defensive midfielders. 

           

And even in the defenseman’s game, Casey’s kind is barred from the highlight reel checks or the pleasant chat with an opposing attackman. The defensive midfielder needs to flee the field once his job is done.

           

As a result, the only way to appreciate the defensive midfielder is to attend a game and witness the brief shifts glimpses where it does its job—to ensure the opposition doesn’t embarrass them and clear the ball so the offensive players can be glorified. 

           

But last week, we already concluded that we aren’t going to visit games if we live outside Denver or Boston.

           

We must marvel at the philosophical paradox that is the “d-mid.” Tell any youth player that they can play professional lacrosse. And he doesn’t need stellar stick skills. Or a great shot. Or a long pole. Or any clue how to take face-offs. Or have lacrosse balls fly at his head. And he still gets to play at least half of every game.

           

They do, however, need the footwork and speed of the Pronghorn Antelope and the psychotic urge to inflict pain like Nicky Polanco on a Monster Energy Drink. Still want to play in the MLL? Just learn to take face-offs instead. Less running required.

           

Face-off specialists get to make the All-Star team every year too. But…defensive midfielders do now too? Where’s Casey Powell on the All-Star team? Brian Dougherty? Conor Gill? Ryan Boyle? John Christmas? None of these players necessarily deserved to make the team this particular season. Yet Benson Erwin and Shawn Nadelen made the West and East teams as midfielders, and it isn’t for their scoring prowess. 

           

Erwin even gets to compete in the game’s new two-point shot competition. Has Erwin ever scored a two-point goal in his career? He did it once, two summers ago. Roy Colsey, meanwhile, doesn’t get to participate in the festivities, and he’s the MLL’s all-time leader with 33. But isn’t Benson Erwin the guy that scored the overtime goal against Virginia three years ago? I guess that was far away enough to be the equivalent of a two-point shot.

           

That’s the funny thing about the defensive midfielder: most in the league possess all of these skills anyway—but they rarely get to use them. And when they do, it becomes their career highlight. The league press release highlighted Casey’s three-goal effort in May. Erwin’s lifelong claim to fame will ultimately be that goal, off that ugly bounce shot that popped over Kip Turner’s head. And for Shawn Nadelen, he’s remembered for his neck. Big. Meaty. Neck.

           

Shockingly this Thursday, fans won’t be scurrying for Nadelen or Erwin’s autograph. Fans might act differently if Jesse Hubbard were there, or Colsey, or Brian Spallina. 

           

But instead, the league is making a formal statement to the ignored and neglected utility piece of the league: we recognize your existence. We feel somewhat sorry that we forgot you—the last seven years. This year, we drafted one of your kind (Will Barrow) in the second round of the draft. But we knew that wasn’t enough. 

           

So here, please take a token selection—one on each team on July 17. In exchange, please play defense so the all-star game doesn’t get too embarrassing. And in the future, we won’t push you aside, overlook you, toss you around and replace you like a cheap dishrag when we find another suitor to get the job done. Even though the Cannons just did that to Joe Kostolansky, who was waived, after busting his butt up and down the field every game in high socks, once Casey was acquired. 

           

But we swear we don’t do it again.

 

Denver. Coaching the Eastern Conference squad for the All-Star Game will be Bill Daye and Tony Resch. The West gets Outlaws coach Brian Reese and…his assistants? If I were John Tucker, I’d feel a bit snubbed.

 

Long Island. 20-26 loss to the Pride—it was a fluke, right? Picking up undrafted Dan Loftus may be a cry for help in net. Teams passed on Loftus in the draft. There were 50 picks in the draft. So they passed on Loftus 50 times. And they had more chances to sign him afterwards.

 

Philadelphia/homeless. The Barrage are really good at this “villain” thing. Knocking people’s teeth in, drawing double penalties, stealing trophies, etc.

 

Rochester. The Rattlers should be hungry for revenge against Washington this week. They’ll all use wood sticks if it comes to a lightning delay again. In fact, I think they’d prefer using wood.

 

Los Angeles. The Riptide have a crew of aging veterans yet traded for another draft pick. How much time is left before Riordan, Hubbard et al collapse?

 

Boston. A devastating loss to Philadelphia last week, but a shout-out to Kevin Dougherty’s wife Elizabeth, his puppy Harper and cat Ms. Cleo for being my three lone readers at home. The Cannons should improve morale by handing out a special edition trading card series of McDreamy and his thousand faces of facial hair.

 

New Jersey. Newfound resurgence attributed to the Peyser brothers blog. I swear I saw those three on “Growing up Gotti.”

 

Washington.  The Bayhawks keep adding midfielders, but how many can help offensively?

 

Chicago. The Machine will ruin some team’s playoff hopes down the stretch. And that will wrap up their 3-12 season.

 

San Franciso Dragons. Can season ticket holders get refunds? Then again, nobody has Dragons season tickets anyway.