Results tagged ‘ Red Sox ’

The Filibuster

What fool GM do you think is going to overpay for Josh Hamilton?

Jonestein
Fort Worth, TX
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“Any intelligent fool can make things bigger and more complex. It takes a touch of genius, and a lot of courage, to move in the opposite direction.”

Albert Einstein said that.  Jon Daniels DID that.

He and the Rangers made their qualifying offer to Sir Parties-a-Lot and now they can sit back and let madness ensue knowing they’ll at least get a nice draft pick if and when some insane club with house money decides to give Josh Hamilton what he wants.  (From what I have been reading on Twitter and some other baseball-centric forums, dude is asking for 7 years, $175 million.)

Right?  WTF Josh Hamilton?  SEVEN YEARS?  ONE HUNDRED SEVENTY FIVE MILLION UNITED STATES DOLLARS?!?

If this doesn’t prove Nietzsche’s god is dead lesson, I don’t know what does.  Look, I’m impressed with the healthy Josh Hamilton just as much as any one else, but the problems with handing Hamilton a multi-year $100 million+ contract are as well known and documented as Hamilton is out of touch with reality.

1)  Dude is a china doll.  Can’t stay healthy.

2)  Dude is (and always will be) an addict.

3)  Dude is also a well documented RELAPSE just waiting to happen.

One minute Josh is manning left field, hitting bombs, the next minute he’s doing t***y shots off your college aged daughter, making it rain with whipped cream and pay-puh.  Don’t believe me?  Do some Google image searching.

Too risky.  Way.  Too.  Risky.  I wouldn’t give him anything over three years.  Period.  I’d pay him what he’s worth — close to the $20 million a year threshold if healthy (and sober).  But no way I’d trust him for anything more than three years.  His record speaks for itself.

And while I’m all for giving folks second, third, fourth chances, I’m also smart enough to know when to say when.  Hamilton (and his enablers) seem to have a problem with that.

The good news, for sanity’s sake, is that most of the big pocketed clubs don’t have any room for Hamilton.  I hear the Braves are interested but don’t want to be too left handed.  And the breakout Orioles are in the mix too.  But don’t expect L.A. or New York or Boston to go there.  I’m not sure the night life in those cities could handle a potential Hamilton disaster either, and that’s really saying something.

So go ahead.  Hate me ‘cuz I’m hatin’ on Hamilton’s free agency, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.

Peace,

Jeff

Things Still Fall Apart

Like any good book, the baseball season unfolds as a series of intriguing stories.  Mike Trout.  Bryce Harper.  The Baltimore Orioles.  The Boston sell-off.  ROIDS!!!  These are all striking plot lines that draw us in, forcing us to check Twitter and MLB Trade Rumors and MLB Tonight as often as Mr. Krause uses a 5-year old picture of me looking like a goof.

Yet, at the end of the season, after the World Champions have been crowned, the champagne has been drunk and Ozzie Guillen has said something unintelligible on live television, I firmly believe that the biggest story of the year could be the complete reversal of what up until a few weeks ago looked like a major headline grabber.

That’s right.  I’m talking to you, Pittsburgh Pirates.

Not even International Talk Like A Pirate Day could save loyal baseball fans in the Steel City from wanting to bring back the brown paper bags from the last 19 years.

With the losses on Wednesday and Thursday, the Pirates find themselves back where they belong, with a losing record.

It’s sad, right?  I guess.  No.  I know.  It is sad.  But for a realist like me, it was also predictable.  The Pirates doing well would be a surprise.  Seeing them sink back into loserdom is not.

Speaking of losers, you are not one today, my friend.  In fact, you just won!  What did you win?  Well, I can’t leave you feeling so sad on a Friday… so here are 18 glorious minutes of bloopers from The Office.

Happy Friday!

Jeff

The Filibuster

Thoughts on the blockbuster?  Are you surprised?

Miles G.
Niles, MI
________________________

When news broke of the blockbuster trade between the Dodgers and Red Sox sending Adrian Gonzalez, Josh Beckett, Carl Crawford and Nick Punto to LaLa Land for James Loney and prospects I had to put down my beer, take a few deep breaths and squint to make sure I was reading the news ticker at the bottom of the screen correctly.

I was.

Well, looky there, I thought, out with the Theo, in with the Cherrington/Bobby V.

I was a bit surprised that it happened after the trade deadline and before the offseason, but when considering how it took place (the Dodgers claiming Gonzalez and Beckett off the waiver wire), it wasn’t that suprirsing that a deal developed so quickly.  By rule, the parties involved only had 48 hours to get a deal done and both sides seemed to know exactly what they wanted.

The Dodgers wanted to spend money on star power.  The Red Sox wanted a do-over.

Both got their wish and the result is an exciting development for all of baseball!

But what is really surprising to me on this day is completely unrelated to baseball.  Like this guy’s nightmarish job.  That’s surprising.  Or how about that former Baywatch star Donna D’Errico hurt herself while off searching for a mythical boat.  That’s surprising.  Or how about that Mitt Romney is questioning President Obama’s birth certificate?  That’s–

Oh, wait.  That’s not surprising at all.

Hate me ‘cuz you gotta go to work tomorrow, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.

Peace,

Jeff

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Where Is Jaws When You Really Need Him?

It’s Shark Week.  But you knew that.  What you might not know is how dire the level of stupid is that permeates our planet.

Which makes me ask: WHERE IS JAWS WHEN YOU REALLY NEED HIM?!?!

Why not show up in the Red Sox clubhouse?  Talk about sharks in the water, my goodness.  Isn’t it funny how a couple of World Series titles make us forget just how endearing the Red Sox used to be?  Nowadays, The Nation seems more like an episode of Keeping Up with the Kardashians.  Incessant and annoying bickering from privileged entitled millionaires ad nauseum.  Before the season started, I was so excited Bobby Valentine was back in the manager’s seat because I knew he would bring drama to the league.  This is NOT the drama I was looking for.

Nor was I looking for the Vice President of US America to be just as stupid as I’ve always thought he might be.  Well, turns out he is.  Joe Biden’s mouth seems to be about as large as Jaws’, yes, it’s just too bad he uses his for talking instead of devouring prey.

And while I realize Jaws tends to reside in the warm coastal waters off the North Atlantic, would it be too much to ask for him to swim down, out and around on up to the San Francisco Bay?  There’s one fraudulent outfielder there who could use a good ass-chewin’.

Hate me ‘cuz I’m angry, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.

Peace,

Jeff

Ba$eball $tar$

Sports Illustrated‘s annual Fortune 50 list of the 50 highest-earning American athletes list is out and Major League Baseball is heavily represented.  In fact, 36% of the athletes are baseballers — some better than others (looking at you, Barry Zito).  And while I’m sad to see an star like Floyd Mayweather, Jr at the top, one who eschews real glory at the highest level for a comfortable place atop boxing mediocrity, I am glad that baseball players are makin’ that pay-puh.  It makes me feel less suicidal when I pay $8 for a 16 oz beer.

Here’s a quick rundown of the highest paid American baseball players and their overall ranking among American athletes in parenthesis.

1.  Alex Rodriguez (6)
Too bad for the Yankees A-Rod can’t be young and steroided like the good old days.  His health is just going downhill from here.

2.  Derek Jeter (9)
He can do no wrong.  I would pay this man a bazillion dollars a year if I could.  And since Albert left me, I have no problems admitting my 17-year Jeet man-crush.

3.  Joe Mauer (12)
Really?  12th highest paid American athlete overall and third highest Major Leaguer?  I would feel better about this if he could hit it over the Target Field fence once in a while.

4.  Vernon Wells (17)
PSSSHH!!!!  I just ruined my keyboard with a mouthful of coffee.

5.  C.C. Sabathia (20)
Mo’ money, mo’ foooooooooooooooooood!

6.  Mark Teixeira (21)
Nothing says $23 million a year like a YEEE-HAW JAW!

7.  Prince Fielder (22)
I have a feeling if I make one more Prince Fielder fat joke then I’m going to be… eaten…

8.  Adrian Gonzalez (25)
He may have lost his power stroke, but with $21 million a year I’m sure he’s strokin’ plenty of power.

9.  Justin Verlander (28)
A man’s man, I would prefer to see Verlander at the very top of this list, or at the very least, have the opportunity to rifle a fastball at Mayweather’s head.

10.  Cliff Lee (29)
Way to go, Phillies.  You’re making Clifton Phifer look bad.

11.  Ryan Howard (32)
While many of my Cardinal fan brethren choose to hate on Albert, I prefer to hate on Howard, the man who made signing Albert impossible.

12.  Roy Halladay (35)
Way to go, Phillies.  You bring in the best pitcher in baseball to get you over the hump then s*** the bed three years in a row.

13, 14, 15.  Barry Zito, Carl Crawford, Albert Pujols (Tied for 36 overall)
One of these things is not like the other…

16.  Josh Beckett (44)
Is it me or has he gained like 40 pounds since he was traded to the Red Sox?

17.  Jake Peavy (45)
Up until this year, I thought dude was done.  Yes, the crow I’ve been eating tastes bad.

18.  A.J. Burnett (49)
Huh?  How did A.J. get on this list?  I’d like to know the same.  He should’ve signed two contracts, one for each of his personalities.  At least he’s been living up to it ever since his worst day ever.

Hate me ‘cuz I didn’t make the list, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right!

Peace,

Jeff

Obligatory Roger Clemens Post

Roger Clemens is not guilty.

Great.

Can this be over now?

Of course it can’t.  It never will.  For now until the end of time we’ll still be talking about the steroid era and those who made it infamous.  Clemens is just one of many.

Still, I think it is safe to say his role in the overall picture of the steroid era is a bit larger than the rest.  He’s up there alongside Barry, considering his Hall of Fame credentials and repugnant personality.

Before any of this steroid silliness was known, I loved Roger Clemens.  He was a beast on the mound — a Nolan Ryan/Bob Gibson throwback.  Proud, nasty, BALLSY.

But the Mitchell Report tainted his reputation, whether guilty or not, and Roger then ruined it further himself by being an outspokenly whiny ass.  I understand the potential frustration that could come from having a tarnished reputation, but there are ways to handle adversity with class and there are ways to handle it like a jerk.

Clemens took the jerk route.

And undoing what ya done ain’t easily done.

Hate me ‘cuz you can, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.

Peace,

Jeff

Bad Ideas

Bad ideas are everywhere.  All around us.  Sometimes they’re blatantly awful.  Sometimes they take a while to figure out.  But whether it’s a delusional moron (who supposedly has the invisible ear of “gawd”) scheming to kill gay folks or a real life horror-show cutting up his friends and eating them, bad ideas are abundant.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t stop them from happening.

Even if one should know better.

That’s right.  During a recent Red Sox game I became fixated with the primordial ugliness of our good flopsweatin’ friend, Vicenteticus Padillicarpeus (known to some as Vicente Padilla).  Before I knew it, I was doing a Google image search of the man.  Why?

I wish I knew.

All I know now is that a little big of ugly is a bad idea.  A whole lot of ugly is a night without sleep.

Hate me ‘cuz I’m cruel, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.

Peace,

Jeff

Critical Drinking

Have you ever hit that point in a game of pool where you drink just the right amount and everything just seems to go in?  You’re not overthinking your shots.  You move with fluidity.  You’re like Minnesota Fats mixed with Michael Jackson.   It’s a spectacular feeling but, unfortunately, one that tends to slip quickly into sloppy drunkeness where even hitting a ball with the cue stick would be an accomplishment.

Well, it’s possible you weren’t just imagining that feeling.  It turns out that drinking can be good for you.  But hey, you probably already knew that, didn’t you?  I sure do.  For a guy like me, even talking to girls was impossible.  A half of a forty of Mickey’s later and suddenly I’m Cyrano de Bergerac mixed with, uh, well, not Michael Jackson.  But you get the point.

The study also maybe justifies the much-maligned decision of several of last season’s Red Sox to drink in the clubhouse.  They weren’t being selfish, egomaniacal @ssholes.  They were merely “enhancing their problem solving skills” through oral application of a legal substance.  Let’s face it, although baseball players have significant physical skills, what separates the wheat from the chaff is the mental aspect.  If beer can fill that void, I say “drink up!”

-A

The Staying Power of Logic

Michele Bachmann has been out of the Republican presidential race for quite a while now and, as a result, has seen whatever little relevancy she had go with it.  But, like most batshit crazy people, it didn’t take her too long to figure out how to get her name out there again.  The cynic in me says that is nothing but a publicity stunt but the idealist in me wants to believe that she really has no idea what she’s doing and is simply living life from moment to moment.  I’m pretty sure the cynic in me is going to win that one.  The thing most often overlooked in all that is that Bachmann is once again running for the seat she currently holds in the House and I’m guessing she’ll win it.

Meanwhile, a guy who made his name in the Senate by pushing the dismantling of weapons of mass destruction around the world will be departing Congress.  Dick Lugar was one of the few moderate Republicans left in Congress and that did him no favors in the current partisan climate.  His concession speech was a warning to the hyper-partisans on both sides of the aisle but will sadly go unheeded.

That’s the thing about these kinds of races, though.  It’s a long-haul and you just never know what’s going to happen.  Often, what does happen makes no sense at all.  Should the Rays have made the playoffs last year instead of the Red Sox?  Logically, no, especially if you look at the standings from the beginning of August.  But a month later, things looked much different.  Should Lugar be departing the Senate and should Bachmann be returning to the House?  Logically, no, but logic doesn’t seem to have much staying power in these parts.  I guess we might as well just sit back and enjoy it.

-A

The Rules: Good Television Edition

If Kim Kardashian’s well-traveled yet consistently hypnotizing room-shaker just doesn’t calm that nasty case of televisionitis anymore, do not fear.

This is the 21st century.  And armed with both an MLB.TV subscription AND an MLB Extra Innings package on Direct TV, you never have an excuse to sully your brain again (unless Las Vegas is involved).

There are three basic rules.

Number One:

Watch Tony Campana.  That’s right.  I can’t help but tune into this wily sCrUB.  He’s great television!  Seriously, the dude looks like he should be delivering my newspaper every morning on a magenta, one-speed Huffy, not working a walk so he get on base to haunt opposing pitchers.  Perhaps it’s because my imagined baseball skill-set is similar to that of Campana’s that I often find myself glued to his base-running.  Or maybe it’ s just because the guy is a buzzing gnat in a game full of free-swinging giants.

Number Two:

WATCH the American League East.  Doesn’t matter the team.  Yankees.  Drama.  Red Sox.  Drama.  Orioles?  DRAMA!  Blue Jays?  MORE DRAMA!  Rays… oh the Rays… they are the KINGS of DRAMA.  On any given night no one knows what the hell is gonna happen in this division.  It’s a baseball fanatic’s wet — okay.  Sorry, chuggin’ the verklempt there.

Number Three:

Bryce.  Friggin’.  Harper.

Watch this dude.  Seriously.

I gotta tip my cap to Mike Rizzo and the Nats.  Both of their high profile picks have delivered early in their careers, not with just talent, but with poise and brass balls.  Watch Bryce Harper play a baseball game and tell me he doesn’t love it more than anything else on the planet, that he doesn’t live his every waking second for the opportunity to play the game we love so much to the best of his ability, AT ALL TIMES.

Isn’t that a great example of how life should be lived by us all?

Stay tuned to Bryce Harper.  That kid is fantastic television.

And go ahead, hate me.  I don’t care.  Just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.

Peace,

Jeff

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