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:
See, life can ALWAYS be worse. Like Mike Maroth worse.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
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.
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.
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).
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).
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 . . .?
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.
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.
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.
Follow Johanna on Twitter!
On Sunday I finished the Houston Marathon in 3 hours, 15 minutes and 19 seconds — a new personal best. And though it’s been more than 48 hours since I finished the race, not a minute has gone by where I haven’t found complete satisfaction in having accomplished the task. In fact, I don’t think I’ll stop reliving that race for a long, long time.
During my flight home to Chicago, I randomly ran into some fellow Cardinals fans friends of mine from waaaaay back. Odd as it is to bump into old friends in an unexpected place, I was quite happy with the brevity at which our conversation turned to the baseball glories of 2011, of Game 6 in particular, and how we kept our respective neighbors up that night, how our heart rates have never dipped and soared to such extreme levels. Reliving that game and that series at 30,000 feet was a pleasant testament to history.
I was reminded that you can never undo what’s been done.
And I’ll be reliving such glorious conquests for as long as I possibly can.
Hate me ‘cuz I ain’t never gonna stop gloating about the ’11 series, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
When Josh Hamilton says, “It’s a god thing,” he’s applauded for standing up for his faith. When Tim Tebow kneels down and prays, 43% of people who know of Tebow think that god helps him win. And when Muhammad Ali cited his faith as the impetus for his conscientious objection to the draft, America celebrates his principled stand. Oh, wait. I guess that’s not exactly what happened.
You can argue that Ali is different because of patriotism or the like but it’s hard to say that patriotism alone accounts for what happened to Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf while playing for the Denver Nuggets. The truth of the matter is, despite our vaunted “Freedom of Religion,” the expression of that freedom really only seems to apply to Protestant Christians and the occasional Catholic. And let’s face it, if you ask the question “What if Tim Tebow were Muslim?” you already know the answer. God help him if he were an out-and-proud atheist.
In order to make Mr. Krause feel good on his birthday, I thought I’d post some images of things that would make him happy. So I did a Google image search for “hot girl + Detroit Tigers”. I got zilch (not surprised). Instead, I offer these titillating images, each one sure to make him smile:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, FRIEND!
As a Tigers’ fan, I’m proud of Justin Verlander. Not only did he carry his team into the playoffs, he also brought home the Cy Young and the MVP. That’s a lot of hardware for one season and like him or not, the guy deserved it.
However, for all that he is (human cannon; Detroit’s great white hope; tiger-striped aphrodisiac) there are also things he is not. For instance, he is not a comedian as we found out on Conan O’Brien the other evening.
Look, I love the guy and I’m glad he plays for us. But, let’s face it. He’s no Brian Wilson.[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5609xjVLvM8]
Of course, unlike Wilson, he’s also sane…..so there’s that.
That guy in the pointy hat made another statement on gay marriage recently, saying it is “one of the most serious threats to the traditional family unit” and that it undermines “the very future of humanity.”
Hmm. I can think of a bazillion things that are a far greater danger to the very future of humanity, like, protecting monsters who rape children, making it illegal for someone to marry whom he/she loves, and not challenging a discourse that is solely based on bronze age delusions “encouraged” by an invisible sky daddy.
Two More Years of Bud Selig
Ugh. Really? If only MTV could rock the MLB owners’ vote. No more King Bud! Things have gotten better recently, yes, but there are at least three egregious errors committed during his reign that demand a new king: 1) Not addressing the PED issue until it was too late 2) the ongoing All-Star Game yields World Series home field advantage fiasco and 3) being the last of the big four to launch its own network (seriously, it’s sad when the NHL beats you, at anything).
Also, I can think of at least three perfect candidates for the commissioner’s job: Joe Torre, Bob Costas and ME!!!
Between Mitt, Santorum and a bevy of derailed crazy trains, I can only shake my head as I watch the Republican party fall deeper and deeper into delirium. If only our political leaders would take a page out of Aussie PM Bob Hawke’s book:
Now THAT, my friends, is a dear leader.
I’m a big believer in the adage that you don’t count your chickens before they hatch. But after prevailing in Iowa and cleaning up in New Hampshire, Mitt Romney sure is starting to look like a full on chicken. This could mean either that a certain influential (and voting) subset of Republicans is making its voice heard. Or, it could just mean that New Hampshire is made up of relatively normal people and once South Carolina gets its say, Romney will again have to face his Santorum problem.
The process kind of reminds me of the recently completed Hall of Fame vote. There are the clear winners, like Barry Larkin and Mitt Romney. But it’s a lot harder to make any sort of conclusion about the other guys, the Ron Pauls and Jack Morris of the world. Did they come close? Sure. Will it be enough to get them over the hump at some point? Your guess is as good as mine. But are they going to keep on going? You betcha’.
McGwire, Paul, Santorum. It’s all part of the messy fun that makes up democracy.