Results tagged ‘ Barry Zito ’
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
A Corrective Footnote to an Otherwise Good Deed
While New York state takes the social lead in legalizing gay marriage, I think it’s appropriate to also give props to the professional athletes who have joined the proactive “It Gets Better” video campaign. Grant Hill, Kevin Youkilis, Matt Cain, Barry Zito and many more, have joined the cause to remind LGBT teens that they have a right to live happy lives, just like the rest of the world, and that the bullying stewing from ignorance and intolerance will eventually get better.
Chicago Cubs rookie second baseman, Darwin Barney, has also joined the cause. Chicago Tribune writer Paul Sullivan, wrote a nice piece about Barney’s involvement and, again, I highly commend Darwin for doing so. However, he did say something that must be corrected, something that is, at this point laughable for anyone to actually believe. He said:
“It hit home for me because … I have a few family members who are gay. There’s nothing weird about it. It’s a decision that you should be able to make and not be discriminated against.”
Darwin Barney, being gay is not a choice. There is no decision to make, just like I did not have a decision in what color my skin would be, or how tall I would eventually become.
One is either gay, straight or all of the above. There is no choice involved.
And this is something that needs to be understood completely if things are truly going to get better.
Hate me ‘cuz it’s still allowed, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeff
City Lights
While spending the past weekend in San Francisco, one thing stuck out for its incongruity. A city that claims to be a bastion of liberalism and the protector of all thought left of center really should do more to practice what it preaches. Sure, there are lots of homeless people and the denizens of the city leave them alone in true liberal fashion. But why is the public transit system subpar at best? And are you really saving electricity when you leave your low-wattage bulbs on all day long?
Don’t get me wrong, San Francisco is a beautiful city. I was lucky enough to run a half marathon that took me down the Embarcadero, across the Golden Gate Bridge and up the Presidio. And it was amazing. I also made it to AT&T Park and watched as Barry Zito proceeded to ruin my fantasy scoring for the week. But staring from behind home plate at the line of trees peering over the top of the left field wall, I couldn’t help but wonder how people that pride themselves on eating local also support the importation of palm trees, a species that is in no way native to the area. Sure, like Zito’s sweeping hook they’re beautiful but the upkeep probably costs as much as his contract.
I have an idea for you, San Francisco. Let’s return the palm trees to Los Angeles because even though they aren’t native there, either, at least the fakeness fits. Let’s get a train system with more than two stops in the city so it’s actually worthwhile. And let’s turn off the lights when we leave. I’ll be back in a couple years and I expect results.
-A
Thanks to L for the idea
The Filibuster
What’d you guys think of your boy Zito drilling Prince Fielder for his
earthquake celebration? It’s only spring training and we’re already
seeing fireworks?!? What’s your take?
Sam
Carbondale, IL
____________________________________
Flush from yet another amazing Super Bowl game, the NFL recently took out its manhood, held it in both hands while staring proudly and then swiftly and viciously emasculated itself, leaving nothing but a bloody stump. You like touchdown celebrations? Well, let’s see how much you like them when it means giving the other team 15 yards on the kickoff.
Ostensibly, the owners made this decision to protect the game. After all, football is a team sport that involves no individual glory and this is why players are all paid the exact same amount. Oh, they aren’t? Uh, nevermind then.
My point is, the NFL could take a lesson from MLB and how it deals with this sort of issue. Guys like Prince Fielder are free to celebrate their heroics however they want. If that means running around the bases quickly with their head down, that’s fine. And if it means setting up a choreographed event at home plate with your teammates, that’s fine, too. But you’re going to have to face the consequences.
The consequences for Prince’s actions were a plunk in the back. Prince has adequate padding so I’m sure there will not be any long lasting effects. But it did let the Brewers know their actions hadn’t gone unnoticed. Sure, it’s sad that it had to come from close personal friend of RSBS, Barry Zito, but them’s the breaks.
That’s the thing. Baseball has rules against retaliation but unless it’s so blatant as to be unignorable, most umps are going to turn the other way. It’s part of the game and has been for a long time. In fact, this is probably one of those few areas where orthodox fans like Mr. Lung and reformed fans like myself can find grounds for agreement. Baseball is a game where things get settled on the field (unless you’re Michael Barrett and Carlos Zambrano) and the NFL could take a lesson.
Let a guy like TO or Ochocinco do a little dance and get down after making a spectacular catch. And then let them put 2 and 2 together when they get their teeth knocked out the next time they catch a ball. It won’t take long before the celebrations get tempered of their own accord.
That things like these go without saying is part of what makes baseball a great game. It’s not just about individual valor and team glory. It’s also the tradition and the melodrama. You think the Brewers will have forgotten that “pitch that got away” the next time they’re playing the Giants? And do you think the Giants will go easy on Fielder the next time he’s up to bat? No way, man. And that’s just one more reason to be watching those games.
-A
***SEND US YOUR FILIBUSTERS****
Something on your mind? Want to see Jeff and Al sweat (separately, not together, eww)? Think you got a real stumper? Send us your Filibuster question(s) by commenting or emailing them to us at kraulung@gmail.com.
***Information about the lovechild of Amelia Earhart and Charles Lindbergh also welcome.
2009: A Year in Review (Pt I)
It’s hard to know where to begin in a year that saw both halves of RSBS turn 30. 30? I was supposed to be a multi-millionaire by now. What happened with that?
But that doesn’t mean it was all bad. Jeff came to visit me in DC and we wound up with high roller seats at a Nationals game. Or should I say Natinals? And I also made it to Chicago to film the immediately iconic video, “Crush,” with Jeff. By the time October rolled around and the Tigers came within a game of making the playoffs, it felt like a pretty full year.
As Dickens said, “It was the best of times, and it was the worst of times.” And it sure was. The blog, just like our personal lives, had its fair share of ups and downs. Being the guy that he is, Jeff especially liked to catch people when they were down and give ‘em one more kick, just to help them stay down. Don’t believe me? Ask Milton Bradley, Brad Lidge or the entire Cubs organization.
However, this is the time of year when we spend some time celebrating the ups. And what better way to celebrate than by breaking down my favorite Jeffery Lung authored posts in list format?
2nd Honorable Mention:
Blocked by Barry
Jeff loves the interwebs and this love led to many memorable moments brought to us by Google and Coco Crisp. But if there was one internet interlude that could be defined as the paragon, it had to have been when Jeff was blocked from Barry Zito’s Twitter account by…..Barry Zito!
Honorable Mention:
The Modern Era All-Corrupt Baseball-Politico Team
Although Chicago has never lacked political corruption scandals, Rod Blagojevich may have set a new standard for brazenness. Or maybe you thought he did until this year’s team of All-Star corrupt politicos was unveiled. Sure, he’s brazen. But is he Marion Barry brazen?
2nd Runner Up:
All-Starred Out
Moving from All-Corrupt to All-Star, RSBS was lucky enough this year to have a presence at the All-Star Game played in St. Louis. Jeff may not have come through on his bet to get a date with Erin Andrews but he more than made up for it in pictures. Especially pictures of his porn-stache.
1st Runner Up:
What Joe Carter Taught My Dad About His Son
Some people may question other people’s love of baseball. But after reading this entry, you’ll never question Jeff’s. Even if it does sometimes lead to weird quasi-international incidents, we now know that there’s one thing that can bring a boy and his father or Americans and Canadians together and his name is Joe Carter.
And the Winner is……:
RSBS TV: “Jesus Hates the Cubs”
Could it really have been anything else? The sheer audacity of suggesting that the messiah/prophet/best-selling author has it in for Chicago’s lovable losers re-cemented Jeff’s status as one of the pre-eminent Cubs haters in the country. And the fact that Jesus showed up for the shoot just proves the thesis.
So, that’s about it for another year here at RSBS. It’s cold now but pitchers and catchers will be reporting soon and we’ll be there to welcome them back.
A
Whoop-Dee-Doo!
Gary Sheffield: The Original Milton Bradley
Before there was Milton, there was Gary. Yes folks, Gary was whining and crying and kicking the dirt and picking fights and pissing off fans and management and teammates and saying stupid things long before Bradley. And now, as if shown up by woe-is-me Milton, Gary has announced he’d like to come back and play in 2010. So even if Milton is teamless next year, we can still count on Sheff to aggravate the baseball cosmos… if any team is willing to take him that is.
Twitter Babes?
Besides using it to piss off professional baseball players, I have found Twitter to be an excellent tool for networking and socializing with like-minded baseball nerds. Of course, Allen and I get our fair share of spammer tweets, but I had never seen anything like this before:
A direct message from new RSBS follower @carol_laurent (from Chicago – where I live) saying:
“I LOVE GREEN APPLES!”
My response?
“I LOVE GREEN APPLES TOO!”
Of course, this is not a real person. It can’t be. Looking at her (his? Its?) page you’ll see it’s just a long string of random non sequiturs. But boy was I duped! Without a gibberish username, grainy profile pic and messages like “please visit my nude profile”, I guess I got *ahem* quick handed.
Where the Hell is Allen?
In case dear readers are wondering, my loquacious and oft incoherent colleague is still very much alive. He’ll be back. Soon. He’s sorta recovering at the moment. You see, he had an issue… an issue with his… esophagus. They even made a movie about it:
Itchy portrayed me with excellence I must say.
Hate me ‘cuz I’m cruel, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeff
Hey, Mat Latos, Meet an Equally Arrogant Self-Serving Professional!
The truth is: I was going to leave this one in the proverbial scrap pile of unprocessed information otherwise known as my oft useless brain, but after reading this touching letter to Colorado Rockies shortstop Troy Tulowitski, I decided this might have a place.
I mean, I already infuriated Barry Zito (or at least his handlers) earlier this year by writing the truth: that during his Giants tenure, he hasn’t performed as well as that lofty contract might suggest. Before I knew it he was blocking me from his Twitter account and I was wallowing in the kind of sorrow that only comes from not knowing what band Barry Zito thinks “rocks” or what type of scarf he’s going to wear to the polo club to impress his famously hot girlfriends.
Whoo wee!
So I certainly hope that when I call out Padres pitching prospect, Mat Latos, for acting like a bratty child during pre-game activities at this year’s Futures Game, that he doesn’t block me from watching his so-called Tim Lincecum-like delivery on MLB.TV.
Oh wait. Why would I ever want to watch a Padres game? Nevermind.
Still, much like the young fireballer Latos, I too am trying to become established, to make a name for myself, to be noticed. And the truth is, Mat, you and I, we can be a team. Maybe…
First you will have to brush up on your people skills. For example, when little kids ask you to toss a batting practice ball up to them in the stands, I wouldn’t fake-throw it (like one tends to do with his dog because watching a dog chase nothing is funny) then laugh with your buddies at how clever you are. And I also wouldn’t spend most of that shagging time trying to launch errant balls high up into the upper decks (and fail miserably) because those balls were falling down onto we little people at high speeds and someone could have gotten hurt.
See, the thing is, Mat, I know you’re young and all that talent has probably gotten to you; still, remember that you’re living a dream — that you have been gifted with the ability to play a game… for a living — and that your personality on and off the field will have a whole lot to do with how we plebeian fans perceive you. Don’t care how the fans perceive you? See Barry Bonds for more information on how it can go horribly wrong.
Lucky for you, Mat, I’m a pretty understanding guy. And I can be a snot-nose sometimes too. I won’t fault you for that… but remember who you are aiming your snot-nosedness at, Mat. The kids. Remember the kids.
Those kids — kids who look up to you even though they have no idea who you are, ‘cuz let’s face it, right now you’re a nobody just like Lastings Milledge is a nobody — those kids, when you mess with them, they don’t take it so well.
Remember that and you will be good to go. I almost guarantee it. Okay, I sorta guarantee it.
Good luck, Mat! Hope to see you around the ballpark and maybe — if you feel lucky — you might even consider attacking my character… when you get a break from being the next Tim Lincecum that is…
Hate me ‘cuz I call ‘em out, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeff
(“Crying Kids” image courtesy of The B.S. Report)
It Takes a Special Kind of Delivery
Attacking our Commander in Chief for his administration’s slow recovery from eight long years of poor GOP policy is one thing; attacking him for his pitching mechanics is another and, frankly, I find it to be an undermining, un-American, unnecessary derision of the US American psyche.
I mean, this is not Barry Zito we’re talking about here. This is the President of the United States of America!
Yet it didn’t take long for Chicago Tribune writer Rick Morrissey to launch an offensive on Barack Obama’s ceremonial first pitch from the 2009 All-Star Game, highlighted by his glib crack which stated “he throws like someone who hardly has played sports” and “If I’m North Korea, I attack right now.”
Wow. Hope you got a bunker, Rick. You’re gonna need it.
Seeing President Obama walk out on the field was a special treat for me; and while from my right field vantage point I did notice somewhat of an awkward arc to his ball, I would never say it looked like an nonathletic toss. Verily, Albert Pujols saved him from bouncing one in front of the plate; but believe me, I have seen much, much worse.
Mayor Mallory anyone?
Of course, when it comes to stellar ceremonial first pitches and beyond fantastic form, it would be exceptionally difficult to beat the Japanese:
Take note bottom-dwelling, low-drawing, aesthetically-challenged Major League Baseball clubs: get this gal to throw all of your ceremonial first pitches and watch the magic unfold (or just watch her chest through that low cut pinstriped top).
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeff
Lord, What Have I Done?
Make one declaration to the worldwide interwebosphere about how you’re going to do everything in your power to land a date with the most beautiful woman in sports broadcasting and suddenly you’re considered a creepazoid stalker who could use a lesson or two in social tact.
Creepazoid? Maybe. Tactless? Probably. Stalker? No, sir.
I made my intentions very clear; and I’m pretty sure I was a perfect gentleman. It’s 2009, y’all, and the internets is where it’s at. I mean, you can do everything on this crazy series of tubes: order takeout, save money on your car insurance, get Twitter-blocked by Barry Zito. Why should chasing Erin Andrews be any different?
“But, Jeff,” my mother said, “what if your girlfriend reads this?”
“My girlfriend does not read this blog, Mom.”
Boy, was I wrong.
I tried to play down my actions of sneaking around my girlfriend’s back to get a real shot at Ms. Andrews, but she wasn’t as understanding as I had hoped. At least now she knows; and I am happy to report that she hasn’t broken up with me over this so things are working out pretty well. I mean, let’s face it, a couple of cigarette burns to the chest are well worth her allowing me to continue on with my special project.
Still, there is just one small problem: Erin Andrews is a lot more mobile than I. And, well, ESPN hasn’t helped me with passing on my messages (sweet as they all are).
Fear not!
What Fulbright Scholar would let such foibles deter him from accomplishing his task?
Indeed, I have a plan. You see, I bought tickets to the 2009 All-Star Game in St. Louis. I’ll be there for all the fan festivities: old-timers game, home-run derby, futures game — four days of pure debauchery — and a possible encounter with Ms. Andrews herself… that is, as long as Joba Chamberlain doesn’t get in my way (but who would make him an All-Star this year anyway?).
Hate me ‘cuz I got skillz, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeff
Red State Blue State
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