Results tagged ‘ Royals ’
Sometimes, rightfully or wrongfully, things go to our heads. Now, we’ve had a great couple of years here at RSBS, even if the results of this past year weren’t quite what we’re accustomed to. It appears, though, that half of the RSBS team, the half that doesn’t look like Joe Maddon, has taken this as a mandate to run rough-shod over all that we hold dear.
Great thinkers have always had their weaknesses which sometimes led to misguided attempts at misguided pursuits. And my dear friend, Mr. Lung, is no exception. It has been awhile since he has known the pleasure of a woman’s company and I can’t say that I fault him for this current acting out. It’s normal and at RSBS we don’t judge.
However, we must have our standards. Dating someone who is not a baseball fan is one thing. They can be taught. But becoming enraptured by a girl who openly supports the team you claim to detest? Have you no shame, sir?
Yes, I have dated Yankees fans before and I am not proud of that. But I have resolved never to do it again. Better a life of celibacy than the self-loathing that goes with dating the evil empire.
But I think Jeff will need a little more help. This has gone beyond the point where mere shame will keep him from slipping down that long, dark, Cubbie-blue tunnel from which I fear he will never escape.
No, desperate times call for desperate measures and that’s why I am putting out the call now for all of our readers to help out. Help us find the girl who can save Jeff from himself and this gradual descent into purgatory. It would be nice if she lived in the Chicago area and she doesn’t have to be a Cardinals fan. I think we’d be all right just as long as she doesn’t support the Cubs. Although you could get a few extra points from me if she was a Tigers fan. You know, for the irony.
You have your mission. Now let’s get out there and find this woman! She must exist somewhere.
-Photo via Skull Swap
As the holiday spirit settles in here at RSBS, we’re starting to get a little excited. In fact, there’s a really good chance that this is the year we get that Red Ryder BB gun we’ve been asking for since 1983. However, as we sit here staring at the gifts under the tree, we thought we could present you with a gift of our own. The interns did a bunch of work coming up with the list and now we just want you to enjoy it. So, enjoy!
The Santa Clause
Only a hardcore DB like Boras could appreciate the fine print of a contract that makes you take over Santa’s duties if you should happen to be instrumental in his demise. Hell, he probably wrote the contract. On the bright side, at least Scotty hasn’t taken over as Santa…..yet.
The Kansas City Royals
A Charlie Brown Christmas
A ragtag band of kids who are all castoffs from one place or another gather around a depressingly bare Christmas tree. If that doesn’t describe KC’s fortunes, I don’t know what does. And just wait until Greinke blows town.
It’s A Wonderful Life
So, how many times have you not made the playoffs in your career? And how many World Series rings have you won? Yeah, I’m pretty sure you could give George Bailey a run for it in the Wonderful Life department.
Tie: Scrooged and A Christmas Carol
However, he turns it off before the main characters have a change of heart. No room for sentimentality when there are small children and their parents who could be paying more for tickets and concessions. How much more? Get on that, Cratchett. And will you stop blubbering about your goddamn gimpy kid?
Miracle on 34th Street
Sometimes when Barry is falling asleep at night, he imagines the postal service delivering thousands of letters to him in a courtroom and the judge declaring him the real home run king. Wake up, Barry. You’re still just a lousy cheat.
So, there you have it. If you ever wondered what a professional baseball player does at this time of the year, you have your answer. As for us, we’ll be splitting a bowl of popcorn and hoping that oblong shaped box doesn’t somehow put our eye out.
Such cases have been well documented: In 1985, Don Denkinger handed the World Series Championship directly to the Royals. Some twenty years later, Hall of Famer George Brett revealed to the world his celebratory penchant for soiling himself.
And now, in 2009, Royals ace Zack Greinke hopes to snatch the Cy Young Award from big name, big money pitchers from big markets.
When Greinke wins on Tuesday it will be an historic event. For the first time ever in the history of the franchise, the Royals will be relevant for something other than a bunch of s***.
And that, dear readers, is called crawling out of the gutter… where they will quickly return to on Wednesday.
Hate me ‘cuz I prey on the weak, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
(Image courtesy of Getty Images)
Sometimes as I sit here pondering the Tigers’ three game sweep at the hands of the lowly Royals I wonder why, even here in the land of the internet, it has to be like this with the venom and the animosity. I ask myself, is it wrong to detest a team and yet admire a player on that same team? And then I realize that I can’t get angry with my friend. No, I know where it all comes from: Demon Rum.
But I hold none of this against my collaborator and conspirator, Mr. Lung. He finds himself flush in the prime of his life with everything going for him: the Cardinals are winning, he has a beautiful woman on his arm and Chicago is always sunny and 85. And even if only one out of those three is true, it’s still nothing to scoff at. In fact, I’m pretty sure neither one of us even hit .333 in Little League.
No, it turns out that the loose lips that my colleague flaps about so wantonly are a symptom of something much more disturbing than even distilled spirits. In reality, Jeff is slowly losing ground to the dreaded scourge of senility.
It’s not all bad. Sometimes it’s quite hilarious. I just hope that the next time this dementia slips my good friend’s tenuous grasp on reality it will come out in a more constructive manner. Perhaps a bawdy limerick or an ode to Mr. Pujols. We can always hope afterall.
Besides Chinatown flea markets and the out-of-this-world chili at Ramova Grill, the best part about living on the Southside of Chicago is having the White Sox play in my own backyard.
Because as a Cardinals fan far removed from my old Busch Stadium stomping grounds, I know I can always find good, learned, baseball-lovin’ folk at New Comiskey (only newbies and yuppies call it The Cell — so I’m told).
And on Monday night, Southsiders came out to the park in droves. It was hot. It was humid. The rain was coming down hard. But Mark Buehrle was on the mound and it’s no secret that White Sox fans love them some Mark Buehrle. Over 36,000 people came out to see him duel the Royals’ Brian Bannister… yes, 36,000! On a Monday night. With an hour long rain delayed start. Against the Royals.
Now that, dear readers, is some serious dedication.
Perhaps the influx of fans was due to the high hopes of a pitcher’s duel.
Well, we didn’t get it.
‘Cuz when Yuniesky Betancourt goes yard, you know the pitching ain’t so great.
Indeed, it was a back and forth battle throughout, until the Sox broke it open in the 7th inning and appeared to have the game in hand.
But Scott Linebrink seemed focused on tempting the Royals’ scouts, who seem to go after the poorest of performers. Yes, Linebrink’s Kyle Farnsworth impression was brilliantly played by blowing a 3 run lead in the 8th on a Mike Jacobs rocket launch over the right field wall.
Fade to black?
Not so fast. Alex Rios walked to start the bottom of the 8th. Scott Podsednik continued his 2005 renaissance with a go-ahead run-scoring double… and then later Ozzie Guillen brought in the Fat Man to seal the deal.
Sure, it was a great game and all… but the whole time I couldn’t take my eyes off the guy sitting in front of me:
Don’t hate ’em ‘cuz they’re right.
Don’t believe me? Just ask Kevin Gregg.
During this summer of über celebrity deaths and disturbing political failures, I have been very reluctant to address the most disappointing development of the 2009 Major League Baseball season. But alas, my faith (and patience) has finally come to a vitriolic end; and I have no other choice than to accept it:
Dear readers, the comedy genius of Coco Crisp is dead.
Perhaps it was always too good to be true — that the perfect storm of a fledgling, Twitter-happy, center fielder with the intelligence of a midge and a hapless baseball team touting the skills of Kyle Farnsworth would be enough to entertain me from now until October.
Indeed, it was good while it lasted. With his nonsensical, grammatically-challenged rhetorical tweets, Coco succeeded in technocracy where he failed as a Royal. But then he went on the disabled list and, finally, had season-ending surgery.
He tweeted a few times after he hung it up for the year; but sadly, he has not tweeted since June 24th and the absence of his familiar incoherency has left us all grieving.
On this day, Coco, we remember your last golden quip:
OK i officially
have a new (baseball) disease called PPA (Piss Poor Aim). Everytime i
hit a ball hard PPA kicks in. There has to be a cure.
There is no cure, Coco. If there were, well, you would’ve done much better than .228.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
**We tweet. And we like to think we can pick up the Coco-comedy slack. Follow us! @RSBS
June means two things: the heart of the blockbuster season in the nation’s movie theaters and interleague play in baseball. The big studios unleash their franchise players on a ravenous public while the American and National Leagues battle for supremacy. But, despite obvious cosmetic differences, the two things are not all that different.
By the time interleague play ends and the All-Star break rolls around, a lot of teams have already fallen out of contention. Does anyone really think that Cleveland is going to make a serious run at the pennant or that the Nationals are suddenly going to put it together and ride Stephen Strasburg into the World Series? Maybe they can play spoiler towards the end of the season but after you’ve passed interleague play, there’s not really much reason to watch them.
It’s kind of like the big blockbuster movies. Transformers II might not have much of a plot. Or a script. Or real acting. But it sure looks good on the big screen. Once it’s time has passed in the local cineplex, though, is there really any point to watching it? It’s not going to hang around for long. It’s there to make some money and get out.
And really that’s where we see the greatest similarity between the two. The money. Interleague play is a huge revenue generator for Major League Baseball. Mets and Yankees. Cubs and White Sox. Kansas City and…..well, maybe not KC. But there’s no doubt that MLB and the clubs are raking in the dough as a result of these matchups.
Just like the movie studios absolutely rake in the dough with their summer blockbusters. Sure, it costs a lot of money to make a new Spiderman movie but when it makes back twice as much as was spent, you can bet your *** they’re going to keep going back to the well on that one.
However, there’s one aspect of this whole thing that gives me some hope. Despite all the focus on the fanfare and hoopla surrounding the big releases and the marquee matchups, there are little things that slip through the cracks but go on to make all the difference. It can be a “My Big, Fat, Greek Wedding” that maneuvers around between the big boys and not only plays for awhile but also manages to make a lot of money and happily surprise people. Or it can be a so-so series that ends up having a much bigger impact later in the season. Do you really think that if the Yankees were to miss the playoffs by a game or two they won’t look back at that series with the Nationals and wonder what went wrong?
I guess that’s just one more reason why I love both baseball and movies. No matter how cynical I might become or how much I agonize over the state of the game or the state of the industry, there are always the little things that keep me coming back. Especially when it involves the Tigers.
First of all my fine young friend, I want to thank you for taking the time to read our blog. Each one of our readers is a beautiful and unique snowflake and you are no different Jessie. Even if you are from Missouri.
But you know who is not a snowflake? Kyle Farnsworth. Nope, he’s an overpaid, overhyped bag of suck. On the bright side for Royals’ fans is the fact that Farnsworth hasn’t lost a game in ten days. Which is pretty good for him. However, his ERA has been steadily climbing and that’s not such a good thing. Well, unless you’re a fan of a rival AL Central team.
But to get to your question Jessie, you waggish little scamp, yes, we are tough on Farnsy. But did you ever think that maybe it’s because we love him? I mean, we’re always toughest on those we love, right? And to be fair, baseball would be a sad place without Kyle. Who would cry on camera when he finds out he’s traded? Who would constantly underwhelm us yet still receive ungodly amounts of money from each subsequent team?
Are we unfair, though? Absolutely not. He’s a public figure. I look at him like I do a politician. When a politician does something I don’t like, I have the right to criticize his or her performance because I help pay their salary. That makes them accountable to me. And when I buy a ticket to a baseball game or a new hat, I’m helping to pay the salary of all these baseball players. Do you see where I’m going with this Jessie, my intrepid little friend? If I’m paying part of your salary, I’ve earned the right to critique your performance. And to be quite frank, I would be remiss if I didn’t critique Mr. Farnsworth’s ongoing recital.
So Jessie, you impish little rascal, thank you for your insightful question but I hope the response has helped you see the light. Here at RSBS we are often tough on people and issues but we are never unfair. Except for maybe with A-Rod but that’s because he’s a d—-bag.
What do you think will happen first: the Iranians blow us up or the Royals win the pennant?
Blue Springs, MO
Tim, first of all let me say that I understand your frustration.
Waiting for mutually assured destruction or the return of the George
Brett era Royals can both be daunting and rather fruitless tasks. Remember,
I’m a Lion’s fan. During our glory days, Henry Ford was still signing
the checks over at his eponymous motor company. But fear not! I have
some bad news for you but it’s followed by something a little more
First, the bad. The Iranians will have the bomb well before the Royals
ever win another pennant. In fact, there’s a good chance that the
Congolese and Nepalese will have the bomb before the Royals head to the
World Series again. I don’t say that to be mean, I just want to be
honest with you. It’s therapeutic.
But now the good news. No one really cares if the Iranians get the
bomb. It’s kind of a dirty little foreign policy secret but most
everyone, even Dick Cheney,
assumes that they’re only a year or two from it happening anyway. If we
were to go in today and knock out the nuclear sites we know about,
there’s enough redundancy in the program that it would probably only
set them back by a few months. Like it or not, the world is going to
have to accept the idea of a nuclear-armed Iran.
However, here’s the better news. Despite occasional
crackpot pronouncements by certain leaders, the bomb tends to moderate
those who possess it. What’s the old phrase, “With great power comes
great responsibility?” Once you have the bomb, you kind of have to take
care of it. Otherwise, it’s possible that it just might blow up in your
So, Tim, take a lesson from Kubrick and Sellers and learn to stop worrying and love the bomb. Really, what do you have to worry about anyway? Let’s be honest, when the bombs start falling, Missouri is going to be some prime real estate. In fact, it will probably be the only untouched part of the country. Sleep tight, Timmy! You’re safe. Because, when you think about it, why would you nuke some wheat fields, a few cows and a really crappy baseball team?