Results tagged ‘ Joba Chamberlain ’

Operation Plan C

Zack Greinke 3.jpgUh oh.  Don’t look now, Evil Empire, but the Yankees probably aren’t going to be successful in Plan B now that the shirt untucking Brewers have jumped in and made a deal for Zack Greinke.  And since the only other arm out there not attached to a ticking time bomb (*ahem* Carlos Zambrano) is Carl Pavano, well, that leaves the Yankees… er… in quite an uncomfortable situation.

Ready to entertain creative alternatives to mend their starting rotation holes, Cashman and company have taken to the teeny bopper concert scene.  Indeed, a young arm stuck in the sea of puberty is just ready to make his (or her) debut:

More accurate than Joba.  And probably a lot less annoying. 

I say go for it.

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

Peace,

Jeff

The Filibuster

joba_bugs.jpgAfter a one year absence, the Yankees are back in the playoffs. Can we
expect to see another big name big money fail from A-Rod and company
again this year? Please say ‘yes’.

Emily
Cape Girardeau, MO

____________________________________

Yes.

Oh, you want me elaborate? Yes, Emily.

More than that? Man, you sure are demanding.

Here’s how I see it. The Yankees are good. I mean, really good. After being manhandled by the Red Sox the last couple years, Jeter and company owned them the second half of this season. With the lineup they have at the plate and a ridiculous cast of pitchers, the pennant is theirs to lose.

But lose it they will. Somehow they always find a way. Remember the bug game with Joba Chamberlain in Cleveland a couple years ago? Or how about that epic fail against the Tigers in 2006? There’s just something a little off about the Yankees. You can buy all the pieces but you can’t buy the chemistry that brings it together. It’s like owning a rebuilt Maserati, only it has been reassembled by Jeff.

Now Emily, I plan to address this whole question much more in depth later this week with the return of Allen’s Post-Partisan Playoff Preview. And who knows, I may even change my mind. But, at this point in time, let me just say once again, that yes, the Yankees will fail and once again A-Rod will fail to deliver in the postseason. You heard it here first.

-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. 

***Superior cornbread recipes also welcome.

Lord, What Have I Done?

erin andrews 2.jpgMake 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

The Filibuster

My challenge to you, Jeff, is to get a date with Erin Andrews. Or at
least get her to answer your email/Tweet, Facebook poke, etc.

-Jane
Confessions of a She-Fan

__________________________________________

erin andrews surprised.jpgFor well over a year now, The Filibuster has been the weekly RSBS medium for sounding off on baseball and politics’s most important issues.

Dear readers, this week is no exception.

Indeed, my freakish obsession with sports’ most beautiful sideline reporter, the one and only Erin Andrews, has finally left the long creepish confines of my mind and unleashed its potentially psychotic repercussions on the public.  For Jane Heller of Confessions of a She-Fan has thrown down the proverbial gauntlet and kicked my poor self-esteemed ^ss into working my hidden magical charm to — at the very least — make contact with her highness… and see where the magic takes me (us).

Fear not!  I am no Joba Chamberlain.  While my advances may be thwarted on a regular basis, they never cause the receiver to curl her lip in disgust (that generally takes place only once I’ve gone on to the next victim lovely lady).

So, how will I go about this endeavor?  Jane suggests “email/Tweet, Facebook poke, etc”… and while those tools will certainly find good use in my mission, I would like to start with a banging first impression:

When it comes to the religion of baseball, I am anything but laodicean

Oh, and when it comes to the dance floor, dear Erin, I got moves galore.

Hold on to your seats y’all… this is gonna be one scandalous shameless wild ride.

Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.

Peace,

Jeff

***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. 

***Pictures of Allen doing something bad also welcome.

The Filibuster

The Pittsburgh Pirates managed to lose a game the other day to a local
community college. Granted, it wasn’t their best players on the field
that day but they did still lose to a community college. Now, we’ve
spent a lot of time talking about the highlights we expect to see in
the upcoming season but what are some of the bloopers and sob stories
you are looking forward to as well?

–Allen
__________________________________________

pirates fan.jpgThe Pirates’ saving grace (after losing to a community college) is the fact that they themselves are a team better suited for the community college circuit.  Boasting players most of us have never heard of like Nyjer Morgan, Brandon Moss and Ross Ohlendorf, is it any surprise that the perennial underachieving Buccos start the season picked to win a mind-blowing 65 games?  I think not.

But as my sludge-dredging colleague, Mr. Krause, so coyly alludes to, this will be just one of the many “sob stories” we baseball fans are looking forward to in 2009.  Now I am no soothsayer; nor am I blessed with magical powers allowing me to predict which gaffes and gripes will take centerstage this season; but let’s face it: some things are just a given.  For example:

The Orioles and Blue Jays Will Simply Disappear
If they haven’t already, by the time we hit the month of May, I foresee that all relevance of baseball in Baltimore and Toronto will cease to exist.  After a steady diet of Yankees, Red Sox and Rays is slammed down our throats, who will care that Brian Roberts is a shining star in a sea of apathy or that J.P. Ricciardi is single-handedly destroying what was once a proud baseball organization?  No one.  That’s who.

Cub Fans Will Be Whining About Something
They always do.  They always will.  They never stop.  Whether it’s invoking the spirit of Cub castaway Steve Bartman, repeating ye ole circa 2003 mantra: “Prior and Wood, Prior and Wood, Prior and Wood” or just getting too drunk to know what’s actually going on during the game, Cub fans were born to lose.  And in personifying their joyous moniker of “Lovable Losers”, they love to whine.  Sure.  They’ll win the division.  How can they not?  But they’ll find a way to blow it in the playoffs and we sane baseball folk will be subjected to yet another lengthy offseason of wouldas, couldas and shouldas — a century old Northside tradition.

Gary Sheffield Will Say Something Stupid
Happens every year, folks.  He might even box someone too, that is, if he can find the strength to walk from homeplate all the way out to the mound.  And if he plays in more than 114 games, there’s a good chance that he’ll add even more guts and gore to that Phillies/Mets rivalry we’ve all come to enjoy over the last few years.  Sheff is certainly setup to give new meaning to the phrase “choke artist”.  All Cole Hamels has to do is open his mouth.

Joba Chamberlain Will Try His Luck with Erin Andrews — Again — and Fail Miserably — Again
I know, I know.  Ms. Andrews said it was nothing, but we saw the video (which has conveniently been erased from the entire interweb) and let’s face it: Joba struck out like Adam Dunn after an all-night bender.  Having been in that situation myself, and being a guy, I think it’s safe to say Joba will go there again.  Men are stupid.  Ladies, am I right?

Yet looking into my crystal ball, dear readers, the one blooping gaffe that is bound to come up again and again this season is almost too easy to call:

farnsworth cries.jpgKyle Farnsworth Will Be the Laughingstock of Major League Baseball
They hated him in Chicago.  They hated him in New York.  They hated him in Detroit.  If the Royals had any fans, they would hate him in Kansas City too.  But at the end of the day, no one can deny that Farnsy has become the whipping boy of baseball sadists all across US America.  When a kind-hearted She-Fan openly in love with her beloved Yankees rips the man to death in her best-selling book, it is safe to say that Kyle Farnsworth is and always will be fair game.  He should’ve known better: “There’s no crying in baseball!”

Hate me ‘cuz I can be an ^ss, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.

Peace,

Jeffy

No More Tears in Heaven

new_york_times_logo.gifIt still remains to be seen what the ultimate consequences of the steroid excesses in baseball will be. There are the obvious effects when guys like Pudge get smaller overnight and guys like Jason Giambi no longer put up the same numbers. And in fact, an early result seems to be a bit of an overall downward trend in ballplayer size these days, with smaller guys like Pedroia winning awards and huge contracts. The NY Times, in its continuing series “Why the mainstream media is barely relevant: Stating the obvious three years after the fact,” points out this very same fact.

However, there are more important questions that need to be answered and I am not satisfied with their coverage. For instance, we all know about Derek Jeter’s romantic entanglements with women like Mariah Carey and Jessica Biel. I applaud that.  But why is he now dating a 22 year old? I mean, this guy is five years older than me and I’m pretty sure if I was dating someone barely old enough to legally drink, my family and friends would wonder what was going on. Pudge may have hit the Slimfast but at least he isn’t robbing the cradle.

All I know is that it’s hard to feel bad for a guy like Jeter who is so cavalier in his profligacy. But even that is better than A-Rod with his she-males and Joba with his strippers. And it definitely beats talking about PED’s. Thank god New York has a family man like CC around now. Perhaps it will make up for the loss of the one guy who always kept things real by wearing his emotions on his shirt sleeve. Where are your tears when we really need them, Farnsworth?
farnsworth cries.jpg

-A

What In the Ahmadinejad Is Wrong With Allen Krause?

Mahmoud Ahmadinejad.jpg
Sometimes I can’t help but claw my face off and scream: Is this really happening!?!?!

Apparently, it is.

My errant, crass, flagitious friend and colleague, Mr. Allen Krause, channeled his inner Mahmoud Ahmadinejad and once again said something he shouldn’t have by blaspheming the fairest of all sideline sports reporters in Erin Andrews.  All of Ms. Andrews’ gangly gawkers (me included) are hereby pissed off.  And we are tired of Allen’s unbending defiance towards she and all her… er… beauty.

It must stop.

For the same reason I can’t understand why Tyler Perry is allowed to make movies, I cannot even begin to understand how Mr. Krause is able to continually force his imprudent worldview upon the dear readers of RSBS.  Sure, Erin Andrews’ sister, Kendra, is an attractive lady.  But she ain’t no Erin:

erin andrews.jpgkendra_andrews.jpg
Unless I’m consistently finding myself in the mood for beyond fictitious hair colors and high school senior-year picture poses, I’ll take Erin any day of the week.

And let’s not forget what really makes Erin tops among the Andrews sisters: she knows baseball.  Not only does she know it, she reports it, and she looks smokin’ hot doing it.  Any time a woman can distract my ogling eyes with a learned baseball vernacular which includes the tenets of situational hitting, bullpen side-sessions and last minute lineup changes, she automatically jumps to the top of any and all lists.

So until I see Kendra Andrews get felt up by Bruce Pearl or hit on by Joba Chamberlain, I’m sticking with the better half.

To stay on the subject of my myriad intangible crushes, I can’t help but wish there was some other connection between baseball and American Idol other than my inexplicable home-wrecking obsession with them both.

Say hello to Idol‘s newest doll-face, er… I mean, Idol‘s newest judge:

kara dioguardi.jpg
This might be a good time to push aside my man-crush for Albert Pujols and get on board the Kara DioGuardi train.  You might know her for her hit songs sung by other women whom I am sickly attracted to like Carrie Underwood and Christina Aguilera as well as Mr. Krause’s cherished boy-toy hero: David Archuleta.

In any case, I’ll take a sleeper car.

rickey henderson baseball card.jpgAnd for fear that you may have missed it, folks, last night on MLB Network’s Hot Stove show, Victor Rojas and Harold Reynolds had a sit-down discussion with the great Rickey Henderson in which Rickey said: “…my mom is the reason I’m goin’ to Coopertown.”

That’s right. 

Coopertown.

I hope Rickey still has his legs ‘cuz it’s a long way from Tennessee to New York.

Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.

Peace,

Jeffy

The Filibuster

As we near the end of the baseball season, it has become more and
more likely that the Yankees will not make the playoffs. Do you think
this heralds a return to their mid-80’s slump or is it merely a
one-year fluke? And should we even care?

– Allen

                                                                                        

yankees on fire.jpg
For someone who hates the Yankees as much as my colleague Allen Krause
does, he sure does spend an awful lot of time judging, thinking,
ranting and philosophizing about them.  The Yankees have been such a hot topic for Mr. Krause this season that I am beginning to wonder if he’s projecting such hatred to disguise his inner-lust.

Seeing that Mr. Krause is but a part-time Tigers fan
with the characteristic always-complaining-about-something Red Sox
attitude, I wouldn’t be surprised if he finds the Yankees impending
doom just a tiny bit sad. 

For the rest of us, we have the famous words of Mike Royko:

Hating the Yankees is as American as pizza pie, unwed mothers, and cheating on your income tax.”

It’s hard to argue with the validity of that statement.  In fact,
hating the Yankees has become somewhat of a sport of its own.  And no
longer is it regulated to the Red Sox, Rays, Blue Jays and Orioles. 
No.  It goes much further than that, so far that my friend’s five year
old kid — who has been raised in a Los Angeles Dodgers of Los Angeles
household — causes a rapture of laughter at dinner parties when asked:
“What’s your favorite team” and he replies: “I HATE DOSE DUM YANKEES!”

The signs of our times…

All hating aside, it still hasn’t settled in yet that the Yankees will
be watching post-season baseball on t.v. just like the rest of us
regular joes.  It’s kind of cool really.  But I don’t think this is
something that is going to last.  Sure, the Yankees roster will be
collecting Social Security soon and yeah, their pitching is a mess, but
the dollar$ are $till in the bank and a$ we all know: It’$ all about
the Benjamin$, baby
.

So I do look for them to get back on track during the off-season and start making moves that will put them back in contention. 

At the same time, it would be irresponsible of me not to mention the
three major warning signs that could perhaps lead one to believe that
another mid-80’s funk is in order. 

Warning Sign #1:

Thumbnail image for jason giambi.jpgThumbnail image for don mattingly 2.jpg

Warning Sign #2:
For the first time since the post-Torre era, the managerial position is no longer safe.  Giardi, if not careful, may get the Billy Martin treatment because… (continue reading below)

Warning Sign #3:

Hank Steinbrenner is related to George Steinbrenner.  If the Steinbrenners are anything, they are ruthlessly arrogant, pompous, outspoken, loquacious, ranting, raving, maniacal blowhards who don’t really think things through.  The Joba drama, Hughes, Kennedy… all mishandled and misguided by the front office of one Steinbrenner. 

As long as someone with that name is steering that ship, there’s always a chance that it will slam into the big iceberg known as colossal failure.

In the end, Mr. Krause, you shouldn’t really be focussing on the Yankees’ downfall this season.  You should be focussing on that embarrassing sub-.500 milllionare’s club known as the Detroit Tigers.

Now THAT’S what I call failure.

Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.

Peace,

Jeffy

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