Results tagged ‘ Giants ’
Because while we congratulate the San Francisco Giants and crown them as World Champions of Baseball, your country remains in dire need of your attention, your intelligence, your action!
While I have long subscribed to the “when in doubt, go left” theory of politics, I realize that now — during a time when most people seem to be more angry, more cynical, more in doubt about any and everything than ever before — that such a theory may seem just as blind and just as stupid as the uninformed bible-bearin’ masses who inject fear and hate and intolerance into every single conversation.
But don’t be fooled.
The Tea Party might be the scariest thing on the planet since… since Sarah Palin came within six percentage points of being that proverbial heartbeat away from the most powerful position in the world.
We just barely avoided that catastrophe. Let’s not get that close again.
So go out. Do your duty. Be that baseball and apple pie lovin’ US American…
Just see to it that ya do the right thing.
Just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
(second image via 9GAG)
And so in this Podcast…
Jeff, Allen and Johanna vehemently compare and critique Croc-based lifestyles, which (surprisingly) include but are not limited to the many labels of Josh Hamilton (including those who are scantily clad), Derek Jeter’s inner Pete Rose, Jeff’s go-to-Gehrig impression, Ozzie Guillen’s mess-mouth and much, much more… all so you can at least laugh while you waste some valuable time!!! Go ahead, laugh it up, fuzzball!
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*Special thanks to our PodMaster Keith Carmack. Keith is involved in some impressive projects himself. Check out his work at Undercard Films. Seriously. Do it. Or I’ll have Prince Fielder sit on your face.
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Recorded Saturday, October 30, 2010
Jeff and Allen have been very busy
all season long and with the playoffs in full swing, they thought it
might be nice to bring in some relief writers. Today their friend from
college, Frank, gives us his take on the playoffs.
In fact, I don’t even want to talk about it. It’s bad enough that the Mets completely s**t the bed this season. I don’t want to hear about the f*****g Yankees and the no east coast finale. Actually, I don’t even want to talk to you at all right now. You know why? Because you’re an enema. No, you’re my enema…
….Shut up, dude. Of course I know what I said. No, I didn’t mean to say enemy. I meant enema. You know, like your continued existence cleanses my colon.
Seriously, though. I’m not even sure I know where San Francisco is. Is that down in the Village or something? If you want to be straight about things, the Giants are technically a New York team anyway. I guess it would be weird to have the baseball Giants and football Giants in the same town but who cares? And what the hell is in Texas? Nothing I want to see, that’s for sure.
You know what is in Texas that I did enjoy seeing, though? The f*****g Cowboys getting stomped by the Giants. Baseball season is done, bro. It’s football time now. F**k Texas. F**k San Francisco. And you know what, f**k you, too, bro….
…Nah, man, I’m just kidding. I love you, bro. We’re cool. Give me a hug.
You know it. I know it. The US American people know it.
FOX hired Ozzie Guillen to be an analyst on their pre and post game shows for one reason and one reason only: to make sure you at least consider watching their otherwise boring pre and post game shows.
And if you were one of the three or so people who stayed tuned after last night’s rout to suffer through 15 minutes of Chris Rose and Eric Karros’ lisp, well, you’re just as glad as I am that Ozzie was there to break up the monotony.
Even though we have no clue what he said.
The uber-linguistic RSBS interns got to work transcribing, but even they aren’t sure.
Ozzie on the World Series atmosphere:
Dis is wazza gonna want for the ho season. Back in spring train, dis is wazza gonna tink abow forda ho year. To win a gang after gang after gang, izza gonna hafta looze too. But dassa wazza gonna happen. Enjoy it!!!
Ozzie on Juan Uribe’s playoff heroics:
Well, dazza wazza gonna happen. Dis guy, Uribe, he like a big cat dat like-uh eat something. He like-uh eat anyting. Really, he juzza gonna eat so you better let eem eat. He can hurchoo witta glub and witta bat een hees hanz.
And of course…
Ozzie on what the Rangers have to do to counter the Game 1 loss:
Furs of all, you gonna habba go back in dat clobehouse wit your head up high and make sure you not gonna habba stroke or whadebba ees not gonna kill you you lose one gang. Errybody losing a gang or eef you northsider you lose a lotta gang (hehehehe) but eet not gonna mattuh go home and tell yo wife you lubba den you relax or what you gonna do to sleep and go to clobehouse tomorrow and win dat gang and maybe another gang back in your own clobehouse. Dazza wazza gonna habba do.
FOX may lose points with Joe Buck and Tim McCarver. But, dear readers, Ozzie Guillen is an entertainment gold mine!
Hate me. Fine. Just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
(special thanks to Johanna Mahmud, who contributed to this post)
Tim Lincecum. Cliff Lee. Buster Posey. Josh Hamilton (with special guest, Jesus of Nazareth).
This… spells… EPIC.
Unfortunately, only the folks in San Francisco, Dallas/Ft. Worth and the diehards (like myself) will be paying attention.
Such is a World Series without marquee cities and pinstripes galore (see 2006 for more info).
But I have an idea… a way to rope in the casual fan from Syracuse to Sandusky to Sacramento and beyond.
In between innings, give a hot chick a gun and let ‘er rip:
‘Cuz, THAT, dear readers, is ‘Merica!!!
Yes. Yes, you can thank me later.
Just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
think this is an effort on his part to cover up the feminine role he
plays in San Francisco, and after hearing him interviewed, is it worth
the effort on his part, since he obviously sounds, lets say a little
less manly than most players.
And when people are scared, people slander. Look, it happens. I know. One need look no further than my own nefarious and oft vindictive colleague, Mr. Allen Krause, whose curt demeanor often causes him to challenge my manhood (a challenge he has yet to win by the way).
In the case of Cody Ross, can we really say that he is “less manly than most players”? Like my 8 year old nephew says: “it’s a free country… na-na-na-booboo!” So yeah. I guess so. But what does that really mean? I think it means that one need not be a manly man to excel at the game of baseball. If four pressure packed post season dingers that throw an otherwise offense-challenged club on his back don’t prove that, then I don’t know what does.
But, I guess one would probably be better off asking Roy Halladay how he feels about the situation (Warning: Doc Halladay hath no feelings).
Surely, by now, someone has shown the Philadelphia Phillies what Cody Ross’ name spelled backwards is.
I’ll give you some time to figure it out.
Hate me ‘cuz it’s easy to do, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
(Photo by Ezra Shaw/Getty Images)
***SEND US YOUR FILIBUSTERS****
your mind? Want to see Jeff and Al sweat (separately, not together, eww)?
Think you got a real stumper? Send us your Filibuster
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***Pictures of Allen tongue kissing a poster of Joe Mauer also welcome.
If I’m a Californian, I’m not too excited about the two gubernatorial choices jockeying for my November vote. Jerry Brown? More like Jerry Boring. Meg Whitman? Uh… you invented eBay, Meg, not the actual internet (Al Gore did that), so don’t be so proud of yourself.
To be honest, I don’t think most Californians even know there’s an impending gubernatorial race going on. With so many distractions, like the Kardashians and Alex Smith and The Hills… when does one have time to care about politics?
You needn’t worry, California. Your man — though barely known just a few weeks ago — is Cody Ross.
After being fed to the waiver wire in August, Ross was reluctantly picked up by the Giants; his timely bat and quiet confidence has since turned into the bargain of the year.
He banged one out against Derek Lowe to break up a no-hitter in the NLDS.
He banged TWO out against Roy Halladay in Game One of the NLCS.
He banged ANOTHER out against Roy Oswalt in Game Two of the NLCS.
That’s a lot of friggin’ bangin’…
And for a state that’s known to bang, I think Cody Ross should get a shot.
Hate me ‘cuz I think outside the box (and occasionally use tired cliches), just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Things should be much, much clearer now.
Every year about this time a magical transformation takes place. Normally sane people go stark, raving mad as they cheer their favorites to the finish. The coolness in the air mirrors the coolness in neighbors’ stares as some new item of support gets unfurled in the yard. Promises get made only to be broken soon thereafter. And that’s just in the world of politics.
We are truly a blessed country because every fall we not only get the insanity of the baseball playoffs, we also get the truly mind-numbing inanity of the November elections. But this year is extra special because in addition to the antics of Democrats and Republicans, we also get the often unbelievable but usually entertaining shenanigans of the Tea Party.
Over here at RSBS we’ve made a tradition of putting together our annual playoff preview and this year is no exception. But each edition needs a theme and this year, in honor of our Teabagger friends, the theme just kind of put itself out there. Let’s get to it.
Like the NL, green tea has pomp, circumstance and history. The Chinese have been drinking the stuff since Europeans were letting blood to cure sickness and avoiding baths in the belief that water would kill you. Although it may have never gone away in the Asian world, the green stuff has experienced quite a renaissance in the West with the discovery of all it’s anti-oxidant properties. Likewise, with the NL finally in the driver’s seat after winning home field advantage at the All-Star game, you have to think they’re feeling a little renaissance of their own is due. But renaissance in what flavor?
Starting in the east (naturally, since we are talking about tea), we have the two-time defending league champion Phillies, the Japanese green tea of our preview. It’s classic, you know it and you know you’re probably going to see it again. Not only that, it just makes sense. Seriously, how would your bento box taste without the tea accompaniment? It belongs.
Meanwhile, the Lipton green tea of the NL, Atlanta’s own Braves, somehow found a way to get Bobby Cox back into the playoffs. Sure, it may not have been your first choice but it will get the job done. However, it’s also only going to get you so far. More on that later.
In the heartland, the Reds find representation in the classic Gunpowder variety of green tea. No one is quite sure how the tea got its name, maybe because it’s rolled into little pellets, maybe because it expands explosively when it hits the water. But there’s one big problem here. The way you know the quality is from the size of the balls. Smaller balls, better quality. Dusty Baker and his team aren’t exactly known for their small balls. Do you remember that brawl with the Cardinals? The Reds, their balls are a little too big.
Finally, out west we find the Giants, the Moroccan mint tea of the baseball world. It tastes good, there’s a lot to like but something’s a little off. Maybe it’s not strong enough, maybe there’s too much sugar but for whatever reason, it’s only good in small doses. That’s probably all right, though, since all we’re going to get from the Giants is a small dose when they exit during the first round.
Black tea found a home in the west but purists still sniff at its lack of tradition. Sure, it may have more caffeine, it may keep you going but where’s the ceremony? Now the fans of black tea will argue that theirs is still a noble tradition and despite their blends and flavors and addition of milk, the tea is still central. You’re not going to have any luck sliding that argument by the tea dogmatists, though.
Since black tea is a western thing, we’ll start out west with the preview as well. That means we dive straight into a steaming cup of Irish breakfast tea, also known as the Texas Rangers. Nolan Ryan owns the team and you don’t get much more Irish than that. However, in the land of black tea, the English reign supreme. Sorry, Nolan. It just wasn’t meant to be.
This leads us to Minnesota where the Twins find themselves represented by….wait a minute! That’s not tea. That’s herbal tea! C’mon guys. I can steep dirt in water and call it tea but everyone is going to know it’s just mud. Herbal tea is nice when you have a cold but it’s not “tea.” Hm, I guess that’s kind of fitting since the Twins are a “playoff team” but aren’t really a playoff team. Or at least won’t be for very long.
From here we find ourselves back east again with two very different teams. We start with the Rays, the Massala Chai of the baseball world. There are a lot of flavors going on there, it’s new, it’s hip. And it definitely works for awhile. The question is, when the chips are down and you have to pick just one, do you go for the spicy stuff or something proven?
And what could be more proven than the English breakfast tea that is the Yankees. Personally, I don’t like the stuff but a lot of people do. Not only that, it’s strong and it gets the job done. Sure, the tradition may not go as far back as the NL but when you can throw around names like Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig and Yogi Berra, you got something going on.
So what happens next? Well, it’s pretty simple. We line them up and see who lasts the longest. I apologize to everyone who lives west of the Mississippi but when I read the leaves, their fortunes don’t look good. Texas, Minnesota, San Fran and Cincy all go down in the first round leaving us an east coast finale in both leagues. I’m sure this doesn’t bother the broadcasters who will be reading tea leaves of their own and I’m sure they’ll be even more happy when the Yankees and the Phillies emerge to once again do battle in the World Series.
So, it comes down to this. Japanese green tea vs. English breakfast tea. The fact of the matter is, anyplace else in the world the green tea wins hands down. But this is America and the Anglo-Saxons decided to let all their chips ride on black a couple hundred years ago. Good thing they did because the Yankees win again.
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.
Thanks to L for the idea