It’s My Party and I’ll Gloat If I Want To

Only a few weeks remain before pitchers and catchers report to spring training, which means we’re that much closer to the 2012 baseball season beginning with the St. Louis Cardinals reigning as CHAMPIONS OF THE UNIVERSE!!!

Hot dog!  What more could a Fredbird fanatic like myself ask for on his birthday?

How about a decent bullpen?

*POOF*

And there it is: a beautiful, beautiful bullpen!  Fernando Salas, Lance Lynn, Scrabble.  And Motte to close?!?!  Wow!

I have to go back many years (at the height of Izzy-mania to be exact) to remember going into spring training sans a bullpen worry (or nightmare).  Having a closer whose calling card is missing bats is just the exclamation point!!!

And now for something completely different:

Happy Friday!

Jeff

Mr. Lung, Superstar

I’m a day early but these things are rarely exact.  No one really knows for sure if Jesus was born 2,012 years ago, for instance.  But I can tell you for sure that Jeff was born 33 years ago as of tomorrow.  I just hope that Jeff doesn’t decide to follow in Jesus’ footsteps.  See, after disappearing for 30 years between his birth and the start of his ministry, Jesus managed to piss off the entire Roman Empire and the Jewish elite in three short years and get himself killed.

I don’t want to say the allusion is exact but for the past three years Jeff has been pissing off the MLB empire and the baseball elite (including getting kicked off Barry Zito’s Twitter feed).  So far there have been no threats against Jeff’s life but MLB is sneaky like that.

It’s a day early but happy birthday Mr. Lung.  And please, beware of crowds bearing palm fronds.  You know what happens a week later.

-A

The MLB Network’s “Baseball IQ”: A Swing and a Miss

To say I have resentments over Major League Baseball’s long-standing tradition of being completely out of touch with its fans is like saying I’m not worried about the future of the Republican party: IT’S EXTREMELY UNDERSTATED!!!

After all, we the FANS are what make professional baseball work.  WE are the ones who pay $30 for a nosebleed, who dish out $8.50 for a crappy beer.  WE are the ones who have to see therapists when our favorite superstars go wherever the money takes them and WE are the ones who, despite what happens in the offseason, can’t wait to get back to the ballpark and throw our hard earned money around.  So when we get dissed by the governing hands of the sport we love so much, IT HURTS.

The NBA set up its own network in 1999.  The NFL perfected the craft in 2003.  And the NHL (yes, that’s the one where they play hockey) started its own network in 2007.

It wasn’t until 2009 — a good TEN YEARS after the NBA set the precedent — that MLB finally gave the fans the opportunity to experience baseballgasms 24 hours a day, 365 days a year.  I can hardly remember life before MLBN, and I don’t want to.

But there has been something missing in its programming.  Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE the lineup of shows they’ve been rolling out.  Brian Kenny’s new Clubhouse Confidential is fantastic.  Prime 9 is a classic.  And nothing beats MLB Tonight.  Yet the very nature of baseball fandom — getting lost in the numbers playground and tooling around for hours — seems to open itself up to a… TRIVIA SHOW!

Enter Matt Vasgersian and Baseball IQ, which premiered on the Network last night.  Vasgersian’s cool.  Baseball trivia is cool.  How can this possibly not be a kick @$$ show?

Quite easily actually.  Rather than having real fans as contestants — y’know, the type of Joe Plumber uberdork (me?) who will argue and bet stats in a bar ’til the beast looks beautiful — they instead use MLB employees:

“It will be a 32-person bracket with one participant representing MLB.com, each of the 30 clubs and the National Baseball Hall of Fame — featuring everyone from front-office personnel to equipment managers to scoreboard operators and museum curators.”

Um… (channel Eddie Murphy Delirious voice) dat’s not iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.

MLB employees?!?!?!?  Would you watch Jeopardy if the contestants were limited to the authors of the Encyclopedia Britannica?!?!?!

Okay, so the “prize” money is donated to charity.  Whoop-dee-doo.  If I wanted to watch a charity event I’d go to a golf course.  Or a walk-a-thon.

The MLB Network had a great opportunity to connect with its fans — the very people who keep the Network going — by allowing everyday folks who live/eat/breathe baseball but don’t get paid for it to shine.

Instead, they produced the equivalent of an Alfonso Soriano swing at a ball in the dirt, low and away.

WHIFF.

Don’t hate me.  ‘Cuz you know I’m right.

Peace,

Jeff

For Your Viewing Pleasure

Yorvit Torrealba tells an ump what he really thinks:

My question:  So, why did you swing?

-A

Best Picture


This has the potential to knock Field of Dreams from its perch.

Don’t hate me. ‘Cuz I’m right.

Peace

Jeff

Showdown at the Country Ham House

I told myself that I wasn’t going to write about politics today.  Yes, this blog is all about baseball and politics but with the Republican primaries going on, it seems like all I can do is mock the ridiculousness of the candidates.  So, today, I wasn’t going to do this.  Then I read about “the incident that almost was” yesterday at Tommy’s Country Ham House in South Carolina.

Yes, I know, the zaniness of Newt and Mitt both scheduling events for the same time at Tommy’s Country Ham House is almost unfathomable.  It’s like a British farce without the intelligence.  Or the British.  Actually, I guess it’s just kind of a farce.  I particularly like the fact that Newt seems to be intent on making the contest as high school as possible.  The exact quote is, “I have a question. Where’s Mitt?  I don’t think they have New England clam chowder on the menu.”

This guy is seriously being considered as the next president of the United States?  It’s only a matter of time before he resorts to yo’ momma jokes.  ”Hey Mitt, yo’ momma’s so stupid, she named you Mitt.”  To which Romney will of course reply, “Your name is Newt.”  I ask again, these guys are seriously being considered as the next president of the United States?

Anyway, so much for not writing about politics today.  I blame the Ham House.  And South Carolina.

-A

Tiger Blood

The coke-binged, wiry meme used as today’s title may not have the same ring to it as it did WAY back in 2011, but if you’re a fan of the Detroit variety, you know that Tiger blood is still in the streets.

Well, the South Florida streets anyway.

In case you’ve been distracted by the train wreck that is the Republican Party primary, Victor Martinez tore his ACL and will be out for the whole season, leaving my pessimistic and oft lugubrious colleague, Mr. Krause, as sad as sad can be (probably).

But not all hope is lost, Mr. Krause.  My team lost its ace pitcher prior to the ’11 season and we went out and won the whole damn thing.

Still, just in case Tigers fans are really feeling suicidal, let me remind you of some even bigger Tiger fails that make this one look minor in comparison:

For those of you who are still trying to forget the 2003 season actually happened, let me just remind you that Mike Maroth (above) went 9-21 that year with an ERA of 5.73.

See, life can ALWAYS be worse.  Like Mike Maroth worse.

Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.

Peace,

Jeff

I’m Not a Racist But….

Ty Cobb was a great baseball player but not a very nice person.  Actually, he wasn’t a very nice baseball player either, regularly trying to hurt the competition.  The thing about Cobb, though, is that he never pretended to care about other people.  Love him or hate him, you could never say that he was a hypocrite.  He did everything balls out and that included his racism.

That’s the difference between Cobb and two of the remaining candidates for the Republican presidential nomination.  When Cobb said something, he owned it. He was an awful person but he didn’t try to hide behind obfuscations and pseudo-intellectual drivel in an attempt to prove that he actually meant something else.

What is truly amazing is that  50 years after Cobb’s death, Rick Santorum can say he doesn’t want to  ”make black people’s lives better by giving them somebody else’s money” and Newt Gingrich can regularly call Barack Obama “the food-stamp President.”  And then both men try to claim that they’re just trying to help black people.  I have a feeling that Newt’s phrase “I know among the politically correct you’re not supposed to use facts that are uncomfortable…” has a good chance of becoming the new “I’m not a racist but…”

The only thing black that Santorum and Gingrich should be talking about is the space inside their respective heads.  Come to think of it, there was an article written about that recently, too.  ”Abyssal yawns 10 times the size of our universe.”  Yep, that sounds about right.

-A

The Rules: Yu Darvish Pun Edition

With the Japaranian sensation Yu Darvish making his Big League career official by signing with the Texas Rangers, I thought it appropriate to lay down some ground rules for the inevitable onslaught of awful puns that are certain to tattoo newspapers and interwebs around the world.

*Note: All italicized examples come from Lone Star Ball’s Yu! Darvish Pun Sweepstakes, and commenter credit appears parenthetically.

Number One:

Yu can’t Yuse Yu as in “You” unless Yu’re clever about it.  The proceeding sentence may or may not constitute “cleverness”.  But I can assure Yu old, crotchety sports columnists (ahem, Phil Rogers) are going to think they’re so cool by substituting “Yu” for “You” and slapping it on a headline.  It’s like pornography, Yu know it when Yu see it (rooster).

Number Two:

Flip the script.  Surprise us with just how clever Yu can be.  Don’t settle for the easy route.  Dravish highlights are ridiculous.  Yu should YuTube them (Gay for Feliz).

Number Three:

The most important rule when Yutilizing Yu puns… MAKE US LAUGH.  Even if Yu have to pull a Hollywood and recycle old gags, just make sure they work.

So, Who’s on first, What’s on second and I don’t know’s on third – I get that.

And the pitcher is . . .?
Yu.
Me?
No, Yu.
That’s what I said, Me!
No Me is catching.
Proper grammar is I am catching.
No I’s the manager, the catcher is me, and the pitcher is Yu!
I can’t pitch!
Exactly, and Yu will pitch to me. Now you’ve got it.
Arrrrgh!!

(Evil Monkey)

Yu can hate me all Yu want, Yu just can’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right in the Yuniverse.

Peace,

Jeff

Setting the Mahmud

RSBS Special Correspondent and Dark Horse Republican Candidate, Mr. Johanna Mahmud reports:

Rool: [to the tavern cat ) You are so beautiful! Your eyes! Your whiskers! I have to kiss you!

My behavioral standards have long kept me from attending the Cub’s Convention. Sorry. Sometimes you gotta rob a cop, pee on Ronny Woo Woo and knock out Sam Zell! BUT, I still have my SPIES so I know…

Kerry Wood and his pocket missile are back!

I’d like to see how the sausage is made, Mr. Epstein.

Kerry is my iguana Dudley’s soul mate of pain. His Madmartigan. And he’s back! (We might have to have an intervention about the athletes Dudley idolizes.)

I suspect Wood will probably be gone at the trading deadline to a real contender, but dumb Cubdom is happy for the moment. Yes, Theo let me down a little by letting the children have their hero back. But oh well.

OK KIDS LET’S HAVE A PIZZA PAHHHTYYY!!!!

What is this? Contenders might be looking for someone just like him if he can still bring the goods in the 6th, 7th, 8th innings.

I understand that Woody wants to be the next Mr. Cub but why not end your career with a winner? He’ll get what he wants when he comes back at the end. It’s his choice, I guess.

So…  Hello?

–Johanna Mahmud
Follow Johanna on Twitter!

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