Results tagged ‘ Cubs ’
Left-Hand Hate KO’d by Love.
I’ve been living in the house of ill repute. I got my diploma from the University of Strange. Somehow Jeff and Allen let me spew about any and all things on this fine site, which BLOWS MY MIND.
Writers who can’t read get a lot of work because they’re rare. Like tall jockeys. Or short NBA centers. I’m RARE. I grew up with gypsies and dancers. I still can’t read but I CAN dance. And hopefully, unlike the Vatican and Penn State, I’m on the right side of child molestation…
After a great and entertaining World Series it’s free agent time! For managers AND players!
The Cubs’ pursuit of Mike Maddux is on and I’m in. In my strange, odd baseball world, I think he’d be a fine choice. I don’t really believe hitting coaches do much, but pitching coaches do. He did some fine work with the Texas Power Rangers staff and got em back to back AL pennants. I never even heard of half their guys but they pitched their tails off. The older brother of legendary Cubs and Braves great Greg Maddux deserves a shot here. He doesn’t want the Red Sox job, doesn’t want to move his family halfway across the country. And after all the drama that has unfolded in Boston’s recent collapse, who can blame him?
With Theo on board, the Cubs are close to becoming respectable. I just hope the supporting brass knows enough to leave him alone so he can do his damn job without interruptions. There were many rumors that Jim Hendry had people in his ear about who to draft and what free agents to sign. THAT CAN’T HAPPEN AGAIN!!
I remember when I got fired from Applebee’s, because I refused to take Mr. Senor Love Daddy off my name tag. DON’T TELL ME HOW TO DO MY JOB!
Hopefully this doesn’t happen to Theo. Even if he doesn’t pick Maddux, I’m sure he’ll Do the Right Thing.
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By now, my century long-depressed baseball brethren on the north side of Chicago are aware that, despite Prince Charming occupying the king’s seat at Addison and Clark, Cubbie Land might still get turned on its head.
If Ryne Sandberg becomes the new manager of the St. Louis Cardinals — THE WORLD CHAMPION ST. LOUIS CARDINALS — then I think I might just pee on myself.
Oh, the joy… to think, that one of the greatest Cubs in the history of the world — THE SAME CUB WHO WAS SNUBBED OVER FOR MIKE “LAME DUCK” QUADE — could sit at the St. Louis helm with those beautiful, beautiful birds on the bat, blazing across his Hall of Fame chest.
Oh sure, Francona would be great. Oquendo too. Hell, even Pettini is good in my book.
But Ryno… oh Ryno… *SALIVATES*
A friend of mine ran into Ryno, his wife and some friends of theirs in Times Square this summer. He said he was so in awe of the Hall of Fame second baseman that he sort of lost track of his thoughts and the forced conversation sorta became… awkward.
I imagine it was the same sort of awkward that would come from him championing the Cardinals to a World Series title in 2012…
“Blind faith is the crutch of fools.”
We may not be in the Prince/Pujols derby, but it’s fine. It’s fine.
My water just broke. Theo is here. I’m feeling woozy.
I’ve been harvesting my organs to get the perfect GM. I’ve been licking my cat’s fanny to find the best. I’ve been on a Rambo-style manhunt to make sure the Cubs can be good for an extended amount of time.
I’VE EVEN TRIED HUMAN MEAT!!! (That part is almost true.)
At the press conference yesterday, he said “I promised I wouldn’t bring up the Red Sox,” but it’s ok, Theo. You said the right things at the right moments. You talked about “being on base and defense.” CRAZY! I am over the moon, trying to slow my roll, but you, Theo, are everything I’ve ever wanted: smart, savvy and new!
In my lifetime, being awful has been the Cub paradigm. Things have to change now. We might need a Castro coach to show him… defense. The way Wrigley plays may require some of Theo’s number crunching. But we have more hope now than we’ve had the last 15 years combined. (See Baker, Piniella, et al)
But best of all, as I write this, Theo Epstein is hatching a plan to dismantle every last bit of crap left in the C’s organization.
I’m in. I’m all in. AND… his sister, Anya, wrote for Homicide: Life on the Streets!! My favorite show of ever!!!
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I’m a Cotton-Headed Ninnymuggins
Things are changing for me. Before I know it I’ll be wearing jeans and reading fiction. I don’t know where I am. My favorite color is rainbow. I’m giving in to wearing sandals over socks. I don’t need the therapy! I’m just mentally ill!
Tony Effing LaRussa is back in my world and I CAN’T STAND IT. He’s a throbbing, raging, @$$bag that I wish would go away but he won’t. And you can’t kill him. If you try, he just keeps coming back. And, with all my might, my baseball sensibilities consume me so much that I can’t not respect the man.
When I was a child I would squint and mistake him for Thundercats supervillain Mumm-Ra (Magician or sexual deviant?). I wanted to lightsaber him over and over BECAUSE I AM A JEDI! His steroid riddled teams have infuriated me to no end. I loved the Dodgers and Orel in the 80s, the Giants and their earthquake, my Cubs of the last decade. I’ve always respected the man and his managing abilities; but he really has outdone himself this year. WOW.
When the Cardinals beat the Tigers in their last World Series appearance with no pitching, that was quite a thing. What’s happening now is nothing short of spectacular managing. My Jeffy’s Cards are the hottest team in baseball and I will once again be rooting against Texas. Watching this series will be like being touched by a priest…
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And so in this Podcast brought to you by Lifestyles…
For the first time EVER in RSBS Podcast history, Jeff, Allen and Johanna all meet IN THE SAME ROOM! That’s right, no phone lines, no Skype, just a microphone and three unfettered opinions overlapping and slip-slapping without pause. Among the topics of discussion are the Tigers, the Cardinals (it’s PLAYOFFS, duh!), an Ozzie Guillen-less Chicago, “blowing” it down the stretch, why you should see Catching Hell and much, much more!
Now getchyer beer and getcho happy on!
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Recorded Saturday, October 1, 2011
Go ahead, give him the keys, Fan Boy! Sounds like he has some pretty solid ideas!
What better way to celebrate the return of contemporary television’s greatest comedic achievement than to steal one of its taglines for an hyperbolic thrashing of the MLB seasonal awards?
That’s what I thought.
American League Cy Young
Um… no brainer, y’all. Justin FRACKING Verlander. Anything else is just… stupid. And dumb. And Cubbish.
American League Most Valuable Player
Though my repugnant and oft pedantic colleague, Mr. Allen Krause, would like you to believe Mr. Verlander is the “most valuable” to his team, let’s not lose sight of what’s really going on here. You can argue semantics all you want, Mr. Krause, but we all know that the MVP is reserved for a position player. How do we know this? Because the pitchers ALREADY HAVE THEIR OWN AWARD. And that, my friends, is a deal breaker! So the MVP goes to Curtis Granderson. Close your eyes and imagine the Yankees without him this year. Scurry, ain’t it!?!
National League Cy Young Award
Halladay or Kershaw or Halladay or Kershaw or Halladay or… wait, Kershaw? It’s a fine line. And my gut says Kershaw; however, upon further review (and I know using stats from 2010 isn’t fair, but who says I’m fair?), in a galaxy far, far away, Adam Dunn took Kershaw deep. Twice. In one game. And THAT’S A DEAL BREAKER. Congratulations, Roy Halladay. Again.
National League Most Valuable Player
My instincts say Ryan Braun deserves this award BUT Ryan Braun is a Brewer and yep, that’s a deal breaker! So Matt Kemp, come on down! In fact, if Lance Berkman hadn’t done such a nice job, I might also hand Kemp the Comeback Player of the Year Award because, let’s face it, compared to ’09 and ’11, he was nothing short of regurgitated fecal matter last year. Think about it.
Yes, they have other awards too, like, Manager of the Year, Silver Slugger, Gold Glove, etc… but honestly, who cares? Quick, name the 1989 National League Manager of the Year. See, you can’t. ‘Cuz nobody cares (it was the Cubs’ Don Zimmer).
And if nobody cares, well, then THAT’S A DEAL BREAKER!
Hate me, it’s all good. Just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
“All I can tell you is, I wish I had a dime for every dime I had.”
To commemorate my hopeful demise of the mighty money juggernaut that is the Boston Red Sox, I have decided to use one of the greatest films ever conceived to explain my feelings for this occasion.
I’m also here to remind the world of the hurt and pain that Russell Brand caused me by pissing on my childhood by remaking this classic. BASTARDDOOOO.
The Red Sox are falling apart. The Tampa Bay Rays are in pursuit of the wild card and I couldn’t be happier. At the beginning of the season, I, like the rest of the baseball universe, had the Sox winning it all. That being said, I love this Rays team. I’ve loved the last three or four Rays teams. LOVE Joe Maddon. He almost makes me like Florida. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t hate tha SAWKSSS. I’m just a bit tired of everything Boston. NO MORE BOSTON!! No more Red Sox! The Town, Conviction, Gone Baby Gone, the Patriots, The Departed, Ben Affleck doing Madden ads. I NEED A FAWWWWWWWWKIINNNNN BREAK!!!
“If you and your undershirt will walk two paces backwards, I could enter this dwelling.”
Oh yea. Forgot about Edge of Darkness, The Fighter, and Danny fawwwwwwkkkinnnn Woodhead!!!! I feel like I have had a Fenway Frank shoved up my giggy for the last ten years.
“I race cars, play tennis, and fondle women, BUT! I have weekends off, and I am my own boss.”
Theo Epstein’s bright idea was to punch in Erik Betard. BRILLIANT? No. Can Jon Lester be everywhere at once? Josh Beckett is hurty. The BLOWN RANGER! John Lackey is awful. This staff is not quite in dire straits but…
“Ladies and gentlemen… I’m sorry… As you probably have surmised by now… there will be no wedding. The bride… has had second thoughts… and has decided not to marry me… Most of you know me… Can you blame her?”
Carl Crawford has been my personal joy killer. One of my favorite players of the last seven years, he hasn’t quite been worth the money. Hitting third in this lineup has been a problem. He’s a leadoff hitter!
“Isn’t this fun? Isn’t fun the best thing to have? Don’t you wish you were me? I know I do.”
The rise of Jacoby Ellsbury has been nothing short of TRANSCENDENT — an absolute bright spot. And I couldn’t be happier for the kid who has struggled through injuries. He or Curtis Granderson would be fine choices for MVP. (I’m sorry, Verlander.)
And now, one last fleeting thought for my beloved Cubs. Both Sox teams have won championships and so have the current champ Giants. My thoughts on this?
Gloria: My mother died when I was six.
Arthur: [bangs his fist on the table] Son of a bitch! Don’t they know what they do to kids?
Gloria: My father raped me when I was twelve.
Arthur: So, you had six relatively good years? I’m sorry. Listen, my father screwed me, too.
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For me, the tragedy of 9/11 cannot be separated from the baseball that eventually helped ease the grief. The few moments of distraction it provided during a time when nothing else really made sense cannot be overstated. For a bonafide baseball nerd like myself, the game is always the best medicine.
In the fall of 2001, the prescription was Mike Piazza, Derek Jeter and one of the most dramatic World Series ever played.
Last night, during my first visit to New York’s gorgeous and amenity laden Citi Field, I was surrounded by people who felt exactly the same as me. And that, my friends, is a very powerful thing.
And despite the acidic aftertaste of all-things ESPN, I do have to admit that Sunday Night Baseball has been refreshingly awesome in 2011. Thank you, Dan. Thank you, Orel. Thank you, Bobby.
Tomorrow night, however, will be an extra special affair: Sunday Night Baseball on the 10th anniversary of the September 11th tragedy, live from New York’s Citi Field.
And I will be there.
My healthy ears are eager to pair up with my attentive eyes, to take it all in, to remember with humility, to join in the communitas and the powerful emotional connection we all share with this truly remarkable pastime.
It’s gonna be a special night.