Results tagged ‘ Prince of New York ’
I just threw up. On myself! Tastes like chalk from all those chalky heart candies.
Do you know hearts are not really shaped like that?
Now, in spite of my distaste for this putrid ‘holiday’ designed to remind me I ain’t gettin’ any tonight, I’ve decided to spread some love anyway — RSBS style, of course.
Yesterday marked the two year anniversary of RSBS‘ virgin birth (yeah, it was virgin so don’t ask no more questions), and I think it’s pretty clear that we wouldn’t have lasted this long without some strong support from our dear readers and fellow paupish writers, so to celebrate that, I’m just going to point out some great blogs that I feel should get some more attention:
Prince of New York
Paul “Prince” Lebowitz not only knows the game of baseball better than anyone you’ve never heard of, but he also personifies the perfect balance of brass balls and sheer smarts. I read his site every day. You should too.
Baseball, Apple Pie, and Lobster
Jonestein is the king of not pulling punches. He hits and he hits hard, often sending me into helpless bouts of laughter. Anti-big-government, anti-religion, anti-antics-in-general, BAPL has something for everybody. Okay, maybe not everybody. Still, his thoughtful articles have never disappointed moi… I only wish there were more.
Okay, this one has nothing to do with baseball or politics or anything at all remotely close to the amorous RSBS, but for some reason it always gets me thinking, smiling, feeling. You may see it as girly (lots of fashion photos, motifs, vocab), but I don’t. I see it as soulful. And the sky gods know I need something to fill this soul. This is it.
And don’t hate me, ‘cuz I’m right… and I know when I’m right.
– – –
**DEAR READERS! ALERT! ALERT! ALERT!**
The Filibuster is baaaaaaack! To celebrate pitchers and catchers reporting this week, Mr. Krause and I will once again be taking your questions for the Filibuster segment, posted every Sunday! If you have a burning question, thought, plan for world domination, etc., please email us at firstname.lastname@example.org or leave us a comment mentioning the Filibuster.
Some of the names may have changed, but the bad contracts continue to pile up. The Chicago Cubs off-season moves have made the Cardinals a much better team than the Cardinals could have made themselves; and the Cards haven’t done… well, anything really.
But watching the Cubs destroy themselves is nothing new.
And when trying to reassert my anti-Cubs passion during the long winter, I got an early charge from this recent Marlon Byrd signing. Huzzah! Hey, Chicago, whadya say? The Cubs are gonna overpay for a centerfielder today!
And a right fielder (Fukudome)…and a left fielder (Soriano)…
Didn’t y’all learn anything about immediately signing a guy from Texas coming off a career year? Nah. Nevermind.
The Prince of New York paints a nice, self-destructive picture of the Cubs organization hinged on that Byrd deal; meanwhile, I’m beginning to believe Jim Hendry is employing the James Cameron school of thought by throwing a ton of money at something that is fundamentally underdeveloped, hoping it will be a hit (or be able to hit… a breaking ball, in particular, if you’re Alfonso Soriano).
The difference is: James Cameron threw a lot of money at some stuff that actually looks cool even if the story is sorta lacking. I mean, I didn’t love Avatar, but I was certainly entertained by it. One can’t say the same for what lines up to be another epic bust of a season for the sCrUBBIE dubbies.
And Jesus hates them.
Don’t hate me, ‘cuz I’m right.
If you are a Cardinal fan and you read Will Leitch’s Deadspin column this week and you are like me then you, too, are probably well into your fourth fifth of Jack Daniels. You’ve called your mother balling like a baby, the cops have been to your house twice and you have a large welt on the inside part of your leg, you don’t know how or when it got there.
No, sir. The world just doesn’t seem the same anymore.
For those of you dear readers unaware, to summarize, Leitch made a strong point that the Cardinals’ franchise player — the face, the rock, the lone savior of St. Louis — Albert Pujols, may not be as married to the organization as we all think he is, that if the Cardinals aren’t committed to winning (as they appear now), that if Tony LaRussa isn’t around, that if GM John Mozeliak and his army of “stat zombies” (thanks, Prince) decide to continue on the Moneyball route and take for granted that Albert will sit around, silent, simply collecting a paycheck, then it is not fair to assume he will stay with the franchise once his contract ends in 2011.
It’s not fair.
I do not have to tell you how important Albert is to St. Louis Cardinals baseball because Albert is St. Louis Cardinals baseball. The loss of Pujols would be akin to the loss of Franz Ferdinand… or worse! It’d be John Lennon, Jack Kennedy and Aaliyah all dying on the same day! Seriously.
One of the joys from the past few seasons has been watching Yadier Molina develop into a feisty, competitive, smart and affective baseballer. He hits for average, has power, steals bases, always has his head in the game and you can’t find a better defensive catcher. You also cannot listen to a Cardinals broadcast these days without hearing how essential Albert Pujols has been in Yadi’s development. You see them together in the dugout, talking hitting, talking defense, then Yadi goes out produces. It’s a real thing of beauty.
Yet if you listen to Will Leitch’s warning shots and recognize the clear and present danger of losing Albert, then you really have to think about losing Yadi too. His contract is also up in 2011 with a club option for 2012 and if Mozeliak & Co. don’t convince Albert to stick around, you can bet that Molina will be right behind him.
Thinking about all of this makes me want to die. If I feel that way, if Cardinal fans feel that way, if the blogosphere feels that way, then why does John Mozeliak — the pompous king of arrogance — continue to look down upon us — the common voice — like plebeian s***-eaters who know nothing about the game of baseball?
I guess now is the time to start praying to the baseball gods. I just hope they know more about satisfying their fanbase than Mozeliak.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
As if facing Team Japan in the World Baseball Classic’s upcoming semifinals isn’t enough pressure on the already limping USA squad, once the laundry list of abominable possibilities finally settles in, we US Americans could be in big trouble.
Nevermind the impeccable team consciousness so calculated and so perfected by Team Japan during international competition. Nevermind Team Japan’s quiet gamesmanship deftly defining and defending their world-class status. Nevermind Dice-K and Darvish. There is much more to fear… for example:
Rape! Dear readers, Ted Bundy, Mike Tyson, Kobe Bryant… these guys ain’t got nuthin’ on the Japanese. Don’t believe me? Know this: from December 1937 to February 1938, the Japanese raped an entire city! The then southern stronghold of China, Nanjing (aka Nanking), was completely decimated by the Japanese in a not-so-quiet storm of raging pillage quite akin to the stomping Chris Brown gave Rihanna not too long ago.
If that isn’t reason enough to fear the Japanese, how about this?
Not only do they combine situational hitting with speed, they are also known to make sure the opposite clubhouse spread is spiked with magic mushrooms, leaving the competition confused in a burst of beguiling blur.
Yet nothing should invoke more fear in the hearts of Americans than the Japanese group mind. To illustrate, here’s a clip of Team Japan’s batting practice:
They may not be a hit on Broadway (yet), but the Japanese sure do know how to rhythmically scare the bejesus out of any and all opponents willing to scrap.
US Americans, let us unite! Persevere! And conquer!
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
P.S. Dear readers, if you haven’t already, make sure you purchase the Prince of New York Paul Lebowitz’s 2009 Baseball Guide. You can get it *here* and you should get it soon. It is your one-stop shop for all things 2009 MLB and it has magical powers (and by “magical powers” I mean “table of contents”). Believe me, this dude knows what he’s talking about. He’s the clean, charming, polite version of Jose Canseco.
On the real.
(Ichiro blur photo courtesy of Donald Miralle/Getty Images)
And now we are forced to sit back and reserve room at the bottom of the National League Central Division because with the massive, gaping, bloody wound that is the St. Louis Cardinals bullpen throbbing with ineptitude faster than the Illinois legislature moves to impeach a pompous nimrod governor, that’s exactly where we’ll be.
Move on up, Pirates.
We got this taken care of.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
P.S. Happy Friggin’ New Year.
Venerable MLBlogocrat and de facto Dear Leader, Mark Newman, announced yesterday that Red State Blue State sits atop the 2008 MLBlogosphere as the number one fan blog in the… well… in the entire universe. With that, I’d like to say that Kanye West is full of crap.
It ain’t lonely at the top.
Because this honor would not have been possible without you, Dear Readers. Ravenously hungry for the special RSBS blend of baseball and politics only available through the uncensored blabberings of me and my colleague, the oft jaded Mr. Allen Krause, we humbly tip our hats to you for making this dream a reality.
In lieu of this special occasion, I, personally, would like to take a moment and sincerely thank each and every one of you in the MLBlogosphere: the bloggers, the commentors, the administrators, the techie nerds behind the curtain and of course MLB.com.
Any regular RSBS patron knows that our unique brand of blasphemy and argumentative analysis would simply not be possible without all of the above.
In addition, I would also like to thank:
Mom — for birthing me and everything else ;-)
The St. Louis Cardinals — for giving me a reason to live every spring
The Chicago Whitesox — for being in my neighborhood and luring me in with Connie’s pizza
Dad — for teaching me that I didn’t have to become a Major Leaguer to be successful (though it would’ve certainly helped)
The Chicago Cubs — for dreaming the impossible dream and providing blog fodder galore
Barack Obama — for convincing people that “Yes, We Can”
2007 Ms. Teen South Carolina — for being my US American muse
The Prince of New York — for being my must-read blog of the day, every day
Allison Stokke — for being hot
Mr. Allen Krause — for being a dear friend willing to take my hyperbolic haymakers and verbal vanquishings without being too much of a baby about it.
But you don’t have to worry about us… we’re just a couple of twelve-year olds trapped in thirty-year old bodies who don’t have the know-how to wield power or even consider being corrupt.
We love baseball.
And when you really think about it, isn’t that enough?
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Pardon me for being brash, but it’s certainly no secret that the group mind of the Phillies faithful is about as unruly as the world markets are on this fine Friday afternoon. And while I’ve never been to Citizens Bank Ballpark, I have seen the drunken exploits of Phillies fanatics in St. Louis as well as here in Chicago. In fact, one of my fondest baseball memories is seeing two Phillies fans fight two Cubs fans outside of Haray Caray’s Tavern on Sheffield and Addison. Quite the conundrum as I didn’t know who to root for: the two ^ssholes in Cubs jerseys or the two ^ssholes in Phillies jerseys.
I don’t remember who won the fight; I do remember I wanted to stay as far away from them as possible.
And that hasn’t changed one bit.
So in reading Mike Bauman’s column this morning — where he theorizes that in order for the Dodgers to come out of Philly with a win someone other than Manny Ramirez has got to hit the ball — I chuckled when he passively mentioned the x-factor of drowning out the noise of “the extremely vocal support of 45,839 of their [the Phillies’] closest friends.”
Touché, Mike. Touché.
As one highly respected blogger put it earlier this year: Philadelphia Fans Don’t Deserve Championship Teams.
And after watching this I have a hard time disagreeing with him:
I know my esteemed colleague, Mr. Krause, has equated the Philly message to that of Barack Obama and even picked them to run the table all the way to the Championship but I can’t stop myself from thinking how crazy that comparison actually is. Philly fans, obviously, have no qualms about fighting back while Democrats seem to be inherently meek (see Al Gore 2000, John Kerry 2004, Barack Obama 2008). Philly fans are hardly known for their eloquent speech whereas the Democrats bank on it.
In fact, I think the only thing that Philly fans and Democrats have in common is that they both lose when it really counts.
Let’s hope that one of them doesn’t this time around.
Go ahead, Philadelphia. Go ahead and hate me. It’s nothing I’m not used to. Really. But don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right (and please stop firebombing my house).
Just when I thought the Chicago Cubs had genuinely forgotten how to lose this season they surprised me and went on a well-deserved five-game losing streak. For the last several days, seeing them falter to the festering Phils and resurgent Astros, I have been reminded that indeed: they are still the Cubs. And losing Carlos Zambrano for a stretch due to rotator cuff tendinitis sure won’t help their case to win the Central.
Now, am I willing to go there and say there’s a chance they could continue on this hapless streak, not win the Central and miss the playoffs entirely? Not on your life, dear reader. I’d like to have the guile to say that, but I’m just not that dumb. I’ve been watching this team destroy my worldview all year long and I don’t expect them to stop until they reach the playoffs.
Just set your clocks for them losing in the first round.
And since we’re on the topic of losers, let me add to the list that my not-exactly-humble colleague, Allen Krause, so graciously offered.
As a head-in-the-sand Tiger fan, I’m sure Mr. Krause will appreciate the losership of one Detroit ex-Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick and his likely fall from power. Now I have bashed Kwame for his idiocy in the past, but I must admit how impressed I am that he was able to get those charges (perjury, assault, etc) dropped to just a couple counts of obstruction of justice. I guess when you’re that big and that scary looking you can get away with being an ^sshole — just ask Roger Clemens.
Or ask his former team, the New York Yankees, who are vying for the top spot in disappointing loserdom this season. While the curtain hasn’t made its final descent on the Yankee stage, you can be sure that the damn thing is on fire and burning into oblivion, as are the hopes and dreams of a Yankee post-season appearance. The Prince of New York has done them in — read article — and so have I.
There. I just did it.
Did you see that?
No? Okay, well, did you see that White Sox sensation Carlos Quentin is out with a wrist injury for an undetermined amount of time? If you’re a Sox fan, this is not good news and you should be invoking the baseball gods for Ken Griffey, Jr. to return back to his 1997 form right now. Give up your first born… eat a cat… whatever, you gotta do something. And let me tell ya, the worst amount of time to be out of the lineup is an ‘undetermined amount of time.’ I had a girl tell me that she wanted to see other people for an ‘undetermined amount of time’ and that didn’t go so well.
But let me tell you about the loser in Jordan — yes, that’s right, the country: The Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan — who did a Yahoo! search for:
“what outlandish mean you are red white and blue”
…and was lucky enough to find the RSBS blog as the first site to pop up.
Gee, that guy was probably all excited to find some US Americans to hate on but instead what he found was a plethora of ingenious posts written by two well-spoken, edumacated MLBloggers with the propensity to post pictures of pretty, powerful, secular women whom would never be invited to serve as one of the seventy-two virgins.
Ouch. Don’t hate me on that one ‘cuz you know I’m right.
There’s a buzz down here on the Southside of Chicago and it’s about a man by the name of Ramirezzzzzzzz. No, not that Ramirez (we civilized US Americans don’t support inhumane c0ckfight wranglers), I’m talking about Alexei Ramirez — the most influential skeleton playing second base in the Majors right now.
I think it’s safe to say that Kenny Williams — genius as he is — had no idea that things would quite work out this way. He re-signed Juan Uribe, then traded for Orlando Cabrera and moved Uribe to second base to make room. Uribe went down with an injury and Ramirez (aka The Living, Eating, Breathing, Hitting Skeleton) took over.
Uribe’s healthy now — healthy on the bench. And as long as Alexei keeps on doin’ what he’s doin’, that’s exactly where Uribe (aka Fat ^ss) will stay.
It’s true. Ramirez has lifted not only the spirits of Southsiders the world over, he’s lifted the team and lifted the W’s. With his game-tying homerun on Tuesday night, he proved that his previous five dingers weren’t all just flukes; he proved that a skin-and-bones scrapster from the slums of Cuba could actually swing for the fences and he did it in dramatic style.
But to look at the guy it’s hard not to ask yourself, “Really?”
He makes David Eckstein look like Barry Bonds.
Not since Manute Bol has a human skeleton demanded so much attention within professional sports. See if you can see the similarities:
My biggest fear isn’t that Ramirez will suddenly lose his flare for the dramatic or his step on a two-hopper or his penchant for a good eye. No. My biggest fear is that Juan Uribe will eat him.
Rumor is Uribe has been put on the Prince Fielder diet so as not to devour his teammates. I just hope it works.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
**ON A SIDE NOTE… Please visit the Prince of New York and sound off on why his latest experience with The Man is downright unjust. There are very few blogs that I read every single day of the week. His is one of those few. The guy knows what he’s talking about and he provides the information, research, numbers to back it up. His book is well-written, insightful and pertinent (also a great big help to fantasynerds like myself). Deleting comments on blogs is a crime. Unless a comment is so blatantly racist/vulgar that it can’t be left up for reasons that are otherwise outlined by the FCC, a real blogger who cares about what he/she does would not delete a comment. Neyer and DePodesta have proven that they’re not men enough to stand up to the fires that they helped start. So Allen and I would like to give them a great big RSBS “EAT IT!” for their idiocy, self-centeredness and blatant disregard for freedom of speech. Rock on, Prince, rock on.
Humans are imperfect. That’s just the way we are. And even though I (and a select few i.e. Jesus, Gandhi and Kelly Clarkson) come close to perfection most of the time, part of being human is making mistakes. Jesus gave up a life with Mary Magdalene (mistake), Gandhi didn’t fight back (mistake) and Kelly Clarkson starred in From Justin to Kelly (big friggin’ mistake). Even my colleague, Allen Krause, makes a lot of mistakes — publicly, here on this blog. But I don’t hate him for that. I forgive him and move on. And sometimes, he even surprises me with interesting, near-perfect thoughts.
Closers are not immune from this inherent imperfection. The law of averages is an inevitable circumstance of life and if your closer mauls down opponents one after the other, night after night, then you better be ready for him to “average” out at some point. Fifty-five games in a row where Eric Gagne was unbeatable? Fifty-five games in a row, folks. 55! That’s a lot of games to save! Well, he’s “averaging” out now.
Sure, Izzy will get you through five in a row. Just know that after that he’s bound to blow two or three. That’s just how it is. Papelbon? Unhittable? For a while. But he is human and he’ll screw up to “average” himself out. This is symbolic of human nature. This is life itself.
Obama blew through the early primary stages — secured his lead. So he loses Indiana. Who cares? So West Virginia might not go his way. Let’s look at the big picture. Bottom of the 9th, 2 outs, 3-2 count, go-ahead runner on second, and a gunslingin’, gay-hatin’ redneck is at the plate. Who do you want on the mound?
Because he’s the man. More times than not, he’s going to be victorious.
Now, if you want to read great analysis on the possibility of a real paradigm shift regarding closing pitchers and the state of the game, check out The Prince of New York (buy his book!) by clicking *here*.
If you want to see me in all my (im)perfection, click *here* (I am the extremely attractive man dressed in black who takes the suggestion).
If you just want to see the most disgusting thing ever, click *here*. *Warning! These are Cub fans. They are sick people.
In closing, I may blow a game or two, but please don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right. And for the record, I usually am right, so get used to it.