Results tagged ‘ A's ’
The RSBS Podcast, Episode 29: Remembering Ugueth’s Urbina and Other Stuff
And so in this Podcast brought to you by Lifestyles…
Jeff tries his darnedest to be as polite as possible during his unfettered gloating of World Championship status (Go Cards!) while Second City’s Mark Piebenga adds some level-headed awesomeness to Johanna’s outlandishness and Allen’s seasoned straight man routine. Among the topics of discussion are “the greatest game ever”, the woes of rebranding an already twice championed franchise (talkin’ to you, Marlins), Theo Fever in the Chi, b!tch t!ts and much, much more!
Now grab some Crown Royal and enjoy yo’ self!
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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. Follow Keith on on Twitter and make sure to check out his crew and their gut busting Undercast! podcast.
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Recorded Saturday, November 12, 2011
So Far to Kazuo
Billboards in New York City touted his valiant arrival. Buzzing baseball elite charged that he would revolutionize the Mets. Everyday fans scurried to find a suitable nickname for their new best player they’d never heard of.
It was the Spring of 2004 and if you asked me to speak some Japanese, even I probably would’ve said: Matsui-san. Kazuo Matsui-san.
Because I, too, joined the hype.
But why? Why was the baseball world so enamored with an import player whom no one knew anything about? Why did we allow his persona to be so pumped up with pomp, such expectation, sight unseen?
Indeed, Ichiro Suzuki changed the landscape of Major League Baseball — allowing for the mysteriously effective small-ball game to reinject itself into the big boppin’ steroidfest it had become. His mannerisms, his character, his magnetism — on and off the field — were a throwback to the baseball heroes of old. Marveled by his talent, we the US American public accepted and celebrated Ichiro for resurrecting respect in a league where little remained.
So I get it. I understand why we started to get excited about the Japanese baseball contention.
But, the fact is: for every Ichiro Suzuki there’s a Kosuke Fukudome, a So Taguchi, or worse, a Kaz Matsui. For every Hideo Nomo, a Kei Igawa, Hideki Irabu, Daisuke Matsuzaka.
And while it makes a good headline that the A’s and Twins are going out and bidding top dollar for the rights — yes, just the rights — to negotiate with Hisashi Iwakuma and Tsuyoshi Nishioka respectively, I still can’t help but feel sorry for the failure both are being set up for in the future.
American, Dominican, Venezuelan, Canadian, Japanese… there’s only one Ichiro.
And as proved by Kazuo Matsui’s silent saunter back home this offseason, expecting anything but is a guarantee for disappointment.
Hate me. Whatevs. Just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeff
Oakland A’s Fans React to Losing Rajai Davis
Yeah. Hate me.
Whatevs.
Just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeff
Everybody Breathe; Gaze at the Hottness
Well, let’s see, I did Testosterone Propionate, Methyltestosterone, Clomid, Laurabolin, Nolvadex, HGH, Masteril, Agoviron, Ambosex, Chorvlon, L-Thyroxine, Clomid, Euthyrox, Neo-Hombreol, Maxiolin Elixier and a little bit of Testo-Enant and then I watched David Ortiz go yard against the Oakland Athletics.
Athletics? Please. If it ain’t full of Riboxifen it ain’t no athlete.
But who cares anyway? I’m sick of talking about this and I imagine dear readers are too so let’s talk about something a bit more titillating, shall we?
It is no secret that the merits of baseball relevant beauties have long been a popular subject at RSBS. From Erin Andrews to Gong Li (somehow related, trust us) to Kendra Andrews, we and our loyal interns always go for broke. That is why we are happy to announce that the crew at Fantasy Baseball Dugout has launched its 2009 edition of the Hottest Baseball Wives contest.
If not, you will be (depending on your preference) and you can watch the video *here* and vote for the hottest baseball wife *here*. (Ladies, you can participate too; it’s cool. I promise.)
My vote?
Heidi DeRosa.
Hands down.
Happy Friday!
And don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeff
(*Images courtesy of Fantasy Baseball Dugout)
Literalism Always Trumps Idealism
Indeed, it is no secret that whilst in our bogarting college days, I brought my dubious and oft erratic colleague, Mr. Krause, up on a live stage in front of hundreds of people with the promise of providing wholesome entertainment only to publicly embarrass him by tying him down and shaving his overgrown forest of an otherwise pasty white chest.
Something tells me he hasn’t gotten over the humiliation.
Which explains his hurtful yet accurate tirade ridiculing the Julio Lugo/Chris Duncan exchange from earlier this week.
But let me step away from the GOP-like mudslinging smackdowns and ask this simple question: Can we not just call this trade what it is? Literally?
It’s crap for crap.
And no, I ain’t happy about it.
But I have found that in the darkest of hours, the most tumultuous of times, the most republican of regimes, that sniffing through all the sugar-coating just to figure out what is really going on often brings out the heartiest of laughs.
Don’t believe me?
Watch this:
Now if that doesn’t make you want to relive 1983 — and laugh all the way — then I don’t know what will.
I do know that giving up a top prospect (Brett Wallace) and some minor leaguers for the player formerly known as Matt Holliday (now just a shell of his former slugging self) is something that will keep the smiles off my face and torment my sleep patterns. Until I see some serious power surge protection for Albert Pujols from our new unsignable Scott Boras client, I am not going to budge from my disgusted stance. Ah, the pain… I cannot help but remember that Dan Haren and Kiko Calero trade for Mark Mulder a few years back. But hey, if this motivates Tony LaRussa to stay on with the Cardinals, then I suppose it is more than worth it… that and as long as Jesus continues to hate the Cubs.
Happy Friday! And don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeff
*And a special RSBS cap tip to St. Louis boy, Mark Buehrle, for not only achieving perfection, but for providing me with uber-stimulation while I should have been working.
Keep Ya’ Head Up
There comes a point in every season where you realize that it’s time to throw in the towel. For Oakland A’s fans, that point comes in the first round or so of the playoffs. For Royals fans, it’s opening day. And for Cubs fans, well, they never seem to realize that it’s time. But, even though there’s still a lot of games to be played in the season, I’m going to go ahead and say it. I’m throwing in the towel on the Tigers.
Now, normally I wouldn’t be saying something so blasphemous at this point, especially since my friend Mr. Lung will have no small amount of fun with this. But, the fact of the matter is that for all the money the Tigers spent on hitting and pitching during the offseason (12 million on Dontrelle and he can’t even throw strikes in single-A ball???!), they can’t seem to score any runs and the addition of Farnsworth to the bullpen did not help an already woeful pitching staff. So, I’ll admit it. You were right. The Tigers will not make the playoffs and I’m going to be stuck watching the same six teams battle it out in the AL. Sounds great.
But, at least you’ll be joining me while the Cardinals become another also ran and the Brewers and Cubbies run away with the division.
However, let me break the Tigers and Cards down for you in terms that are germane to this blog. The Tigers are Hillary Clinton, spending lots of money, going into debt and the whole world is sure they’re going to represent them come the end of the season. But when it comes down to it, a couple really bad moves end up killing them. And the Cardinals are Ron Paul, a great story with a lot of the right elements but, in the end, they just don’t have all the pieces you need to make it to the payoff round.
So, at this point I’m guessing this is making you feel about as good as it makes me feel and that ain’t good. So, I’ll just let it go and pour out a little for my fallen friends, the Detroit Tigers. Maybe I’ll get lucky and they’ll come back some day like I’m still sure Tupac is going to do.
-A






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