Results tagged ‘ Albert Pujols ’

The RSBS Podcast, Episode 20: Utley’s Multiple Meniscuses… and Other Stuff

betty white and alf podcast photo.jpg

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And so in this Podcast brought to you by Lifestyles

The proverbial (and literal) gloves come off in this verbal masquerade of utter ridiculousness and yes, injuries do occur (though mostly to Johanna and, since they are mental in nature, hardly noticed).  Among the topics of conversation one will find: Jeff’s wandering Forever 21 eyes, Zack Greinke’s ribs, the difference between a half and a full nelson, Cameroonian baseball, Bud Selig-bashing take 47 and much, much more… all to make you smile, laugh and play!

Holla!

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Subscribe to the RSBS Podcast by clicking *HERE*

Subscribe via iTunes by clicking *HERE*

*Special thanks to our PodMaster Keith Carmack.  Keith is all over the interwebz killin’ it.  You should definitely check out his crew and their subsequently hilarious podcast at Undercard Films.  And keep your eye out for what’s next.  Dude’s makin’ a movie!

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Recorded Saturday, March 12, 2011

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to 2011

derrick rose simeon.jpgAnd no, silly, this has nothing to do with Estonia joining the Eurozone, though I do admit, that Eurozone has a lot more going for it than just a snazzy name now that Estonia is in the mix!  Look out European Union, ‘cuz y’all haven’t seen oil shale til you’ve seen Estonia!

No, what I actually want to tell you about is something I am still rather reluctant to report: I’ve… I’ve been watching… basketball.

AGGGGHHHHH!

I know, I know, I know… I gave up on basketball back before Charles Barkley ate Jabba the Hutt and I never, EVER, had any regrets.  It’s an individual sport.  A natural obsession for those with ADHD.  An abomination of the thinking man’s game.

Yes, I still believe all of the above is true… but, it was a long, arduous baseball offseason for me and I got antsy and I was just begging for something — anything! — to get me to Spring Training and that’s when I saw…

I saw something… something special… something… MAGICAL.

His name is Derrick Rose.

Now I’m not going to go all John Kerry and flip-flop on y’all… but I am going to admit that I am willing to work with this here NBA thing a little bit longer.  Because while the Kobe Bryants and LeBron James and Chris Boshes of the world may leave a sour taste in the mouth of public opinion, Derrick Rose is not just a budding superstar beginning to dominate the entire league, but he is also (as far as I can tell) a genuinely nice guy. 

People like him.  He’s cool.  He’s just a kid having fun.

And I was at a game earlier this season where he did this:

I saw that and I just knew.  I just knew, this kid is gonna kill the competition.  And if you haven’t been paying attention to the NBA this year (again, I don’t blame if you haven’t), he is doing just that.  In fact, I liken his domination to that of Albert Pujols: when I watch him play, I feel like I am watching one of the greatest who ever lived.

Soon, real baseball games will begin and my full attention will be focused on the boys of summer; but I can honestly say, for the first time since the Clinton administration, I will definitely be checking in on the Bulls’ playoff progress.

Don’t hate me.  ‘Cuz I’m right.

Peace,

Jeff

PS, If you want to see three minutes and forty-four seconds more of Derrick Rose magic, check out this vid!

Waino Es Bueno, But the Elbow Not So Much

Waino es bueno

Ask anyone from my parents’ generation where they were and what they were doing when President Kennedy was assassinated, when the Beatles invaded America or when they first saw Jacqueline Bisset in a wet t-shirt, and chances are he or she will be able to recall every, single, little detail.

Unfortunately, February 23, 2011 will be that day for me: the day Waino went down for the season — a seemingly unerasable stain on the psyche of a bonafide baseball beserker (me, duh).

Booze was consumed, things were broken, neighbors were frightened.

But that’s over now.  I got it all out of my system.  And just as in dealing with any other tragic situation, I allowed myself to grieve.  But now it’s time to man-up and put things in perspective.

We are still talking about the St. Louis friggin’ Cardinals here.  And while we may not have him locked up long-term, we do have the greatest single baseball player of the last quarter century headlining our team, every single day in Albert Pujols. 

We still have an ace in Chris Carpenter.  We still have AP protection in Matt Holliday.  We still have running-game assassin extraordinaire Yadi Molina behind the plate.

And we have the winningest active manager in the game leading them all in Tony LaRussa.

Ain’t no reason to cry, fellow Redbirds fans.  The NL Central climate may have changed; we probably don’t line up to run away with the division now, but we have every reason to watch every game and feel really damn good about it.

Rally the troops. 

This is war.

Haters g’on hate.

Hate me.  Fine.  Just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.

Peace,

Jeff

(Image courtesy of Eff Yeah Baseball Gifs)

The RSBS Podcast, Episode 19: Mr. Cokey’s McBrainface… and Other Stuff

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And so in this Podcast brought to you by Lifestyles

Jeff and Johanna (well, mostly Johanna) push the boundaries of political correctness, in that, well, they don’t see any boundaries.  At all.  Hot dog!  They also get into pretty much anything and everything, including but not limited to Miggy Cabrera’s drinky-time, Albert Pujols’ year long stranglehold on Cardinals fans, a beyond the grave interview with Ron Santo and much, much more… all to make you have happy ending!

Holla!

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Subscribe to the RSBS Podcast by clicking *HERE*

Subscribe via iTunes by clicking *HERE*

*Special thanks to our PodMaster Keith Carmack.  Keith does it all, yo! If you haven’t already, please check out Keith’s crew and subsequent podcast at  Undercard Films. They’ll make you laugh. They’ll make you cry. They’ll make your face hurt! In a good way! 

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Recorded Saturday, February 19, 2011

 

The Filibuster

If Pujols went to the Cubs would there be protesters in St. Louis as there have been in Cairo?

Jane Heller
Confessions of a She-Fan

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cairo rioting.jpgWhile I am quite certain the baseball gods would never conjure up such a foul situation as Albert Pujols dressed in sCrUBBIE blue pinstripes, I cannot say as much for the public.  Deep down, I think we humans tend to envision the worst, to see where our minds might take us after glimpsing death and destruction, because we’re a curious (and mischievous species) hellbent on imagining every scenario possible, even the ones that are completely ludicrous.

But that hasn’t stopped me from having nightmares about it.

Because, as Roger Clemens taught us many moons ago, anything is possible when you’re nasty enough.

Now I don’t think Albert is being nasty in this case.  No, not at all.  But as long as he doesn’t have a new contract, we’re all going to be speculating what uniform he might be wearing next year.  The MLBlogosphere is full of talk, the tweets are all a buzzin’… and Phil Rogers of the Tribune has his finger stuck on the “vomit inducing dribble” button on his keyboard.

Oh well.  Not everyone can form a clear, independent thought.

No matter what uni my man-crush Albert will be donning in 2012, I am preparing for the worst. 

I’m preparing for the worst by taking a trip.

A trip to…

Sh!t City.

Take it away, Lauras…

And yes, Jane, you can bet the rioting will be much like we’ve seen in Cairo… only, fatter.  And more beer.

Hate me ‘cuz you can, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.

Peace,

Jeff

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**Have a topic you want to see us Filibuster?  Want a free pimp for your blog?  How ’bout just donating some words to the charity of being a baseball fanatic?  Send us your Filibuster questions by emailing kraulung@gmail.com or by commenting below.

Well, We’ll Always Have This…

albert and stan.jpg

Two legends:

One with the birds-on-the-bat forever, being relished with the Medal of Freedom, still the subject of myriad barbershop tall tales.

And one who has a lot of thinking to do. 

If it’s those damn MLBPA bullies makin’ it hard for ya, AP, dontcha worry.  Me and Maddux got yer back.

Regardless, everyone will shut their traps if you just go out and win it all in 2011.

So yeah.  Go and… uh… do that.

Thanks.

Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.

Peace,

Jeff

Irreplaceable

steve_young.jpgImagine being the guy who has to take over first base from Pujols when he leaves the Cardinals.  Sure, like Jeff says, life will go on but imagine being that guy.  It doesn’t matter how good you are, you’re always going to fall short.  It’s kind of like Steve Young.  He was a great quarterback but I don’t think that many people would claim he was better than Joe Montana.  It’s hard being a replacement.

Steve Young aside, replacements often leave much to be desired.  Maybe it’s because the original is irreplaceable.  Maybe it’s because the original has a special place in our hearts.  Maybe it’s both.  But the fact is, being a replacement is an unenviable task.

It’s even worse when you have to replace a classic.  The Daily Show pointed this out recently:

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Sure, the original is full of crass and vile vernacular but that’s the reality of our history.  When you try to replace it, it just comes off as hackneyed and simplistic. 

Huck Finn, for better or worse, represents a specific time in American history, a time that we don’t necessarily have to be proud of but that we should remember.  Albert Pujols represents the other end of that spectrum for Cardinals fans and he’s going to be just as irreplaceable.  And when they try, it’s going to feel just as awkward as the new version of Huckleberry Finn.

-A

On Common Ground

pujols_smith.JPGPeople on the same side often find they disagree on the specifics.  Let’s take Jeff and his love of the Cardinals.  There are plenty of other St. Louis fans out there who will immediately agree with Jeff that the Cardinals are the best and most wonderful team in the history of baseball.  However, when Jeff then confesses his undying love for Albert Pujols, one of these guys might tell him to hold up a second because obviously Ozzie Smith is much more loveable than Prince Albert.  This will then devolve into a heated discussion on how facial hair should be worn and that will quickly be followed by a fistfight.  But they both still love the Cardinals.

What matters is that both sides ultimately coalesce around a common enemy.  Although both Jeff and this other Cardinals’ fan truly believe that they are right, and although they may believe that the other person is an idiot for even voicing another opinion out loud, the argument gets easily forgotten when faced with the scourge that is the Chicago Cubs.  If there’s one thing they can agree on, despite their insistence on the correct style of facial hair for a true Cardinal, it’s the fact that the Cardinals are much, much, much better than the Cubs.  Everything else pales in comparison.

For this same simple reason, I don’t take all that much joy in the current imbroglio within the GOP.  Sure, there may be a significant difference in ideology that leads Glenn Beck to think that the US should stand by Mubarak to the bitter end while Bill Kristol believes in supporting democracy even when it turns messy.  I’m sure if you sat the two of them down at a table they would argue all day long about who’s right.  (On a side note I’m also pretty sure that Kristol would end up punching Beck in the nose because Beck’s absolute inability to apply simple logic in an argument would eventually push Kristol over the edge.)

However, the reason why I take no joy in any of this is because it doesn’t matter.  Sure, the two men may fundamentally disagree on a subject that one could claim is the heart and soul of their party’s current identity but ultimately, just like Jeff and the other Cardinals’ fan, they share a more important common enemy.  Even if the argument about the fate of Egypt continues indefinitely, both Beck and Kristol will be voting for whoever runs against Obama in 2012.

In some ways, this is the beauty of politics and sports.  Despite our disagreements, we can find common ground.  In the days following the 2000 election, both sides accused each other of bad faith and cheating.  But a year later, the entire country immediately coalesced around President Bush when faced with a much greater common enemy. 

Like Jeff or Bill Kristol, I may not agree with many things that my fellow Michiganders believe.  But we can still watch the Lions, Tigers or Red Wings together and share a common ground for a short little while.  Well, until someone tries to tell me that Billy Sims was better than Barry Sanders, at least.  Then it all goes out the window.

-A

Imagining Life Without Pujols

sad boy.jpgIf the 13+ year friendship with my gloomy and oft perfunctory colleague, Mr. Allen Krause, has taught me anything, it has taught me that the pipe dreaming, star chasing default drive of my youth would be better served with a hard, double dose of good old fashioned realism.

Because despite my enthusiasm, the reality of the situation is this:

Erin Andrews isn’t going to sit on my lap.  Lucy Liu isn’t going to give me a full body massage (with a whip).  And Albert Pujols might not be a Cardinal forever.

I hate it.

I hate all of it.

I want what I want ‘cuz I’m human and needy and, from time to time, self-serving.  I don’t want to be that way, but sometimes I just can’t help it.

The hard truth right now is that negotiations between the St. Louis front office and Albert Pujols’ representatives aren’t going too well.  Or, to be more accurate, they’re not going… at all.

And in times of realistic despair it’s best to take a step back and assess the situation:

What can I, Jeff, the Cardinals fan, do about any of this? 

Nothing.  I can do absolutely nothing.  Sure, I can wait anxiously and dream and hope and yearn… but in the end, I can really do nothing that will have any affect on the outcome. 

I can only control myself.  No one else.  That’s it. 

And the most successful, most respected people I have come to know in this life all seem to have a pretty good grasp of that idea — that the only thing you can control is you yourself.

I know this: I was a Cardinal fan before Albert Pujols.  And I’ll sure as hell be a Cardinal fan after Albert Pujols, whether his number is retired on the Busch Stadium wall or hanging high at Wrigley Field on a background of Cubbie blue pinstripes.*

So with that admittedly uncalled for bit of uberpessimism, I implore you, fellow Redbird crazies, join me… take a deep breath… and picture a hole at first base.  Pretend the baseball gods are drunken a$$h0les and Chris Duncan somehow made it back to the ‘Lou… his Lurchian frame is manning first base.  Every.  DAY.  Yeah.  It’s true.  Picture it… see it… cry about it for a while (I will)… but know that it won’t be the end of the world… we are the St. Louis Friggin’ Cardinals and our birds-on-the-bat laundry is worth more to me, to you, to the entire city of St. Louis, then one single person.  That interlocking “S.T.L.” incorporates a lifetime of emotions.  It has always been there for me.  Like a good parent, or a best friend, it has never let me down, because it always shows up and it always gives its best. 

And if the greatest player I’ve ever laid eyes on can’t be a part of that anymore… then, so be it.

Like any tough breakup, it will hurt like holy hell.  And I mean really, really hurt.  But… life will go on, time will numb the pain, and something better might even come along.

I hope.

Otherwise I’m gonna look like a real dick.

Hate me, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.

Peace,

Jeff

*Yes, I vomited. Many, many times after writing that sentence.

“Think About It… Think About It Deeply”

yap.jpgRegardless of who wins the Super Bowl, we, the people, the Joe Plumbers and Jane Six-Packs of the world, will most definitely be subjected to interview after interview after interview of big dummies with fat paychecks who don’t actually say… anything.

This is nothing new, dear readers.  The gene pool is ridiculously consistent in its distribution policies.  Sure, I can’t throw a football 60 yards on a line to a moving target, but I can speak three languages.  I can’t hit a curveball over the left field wall, but I can read books and formulate coherent thoughts through the power of writing.

It’s a balance thang.

And though I often harp on my dislike of hearing my favorite professional athletes speak (Albert Pujols and his non-stop Jesus mouth comes to mind), I sure as hell hope Big Ben or Aaron Rodgers will follow South African rugby star Brendan Venter’s lead:

By the way, Mr. Venter is a medical doctor too.

Yah.

Believe it.

And don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.

Peace,

Jeff

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