I post when I want to. Right I don't feel like working 14 hour days and writing at the same time. You don't like it? "Slick" my balls. Get it?
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Do you know who I am? Of course you do. I’m the lead Singer of My Chemical Romance. I’m the pagan god of losers and emo fan boys everywhere. I write with oDDLy pLaCeD capital letters because it helps me identify with people who don’t know how to spell. I also can fuck any 13 year old in the country, and that’s girls are well as boys, because they think white hair and pseudo-satanic band outfits are sexy. They also think real bad asses like a 1980’s Motley Crue are macho dickheads, and naturally, I agree.
Are you feeling isolated? Are you feeling alone, angry, and afraid? You must have been a fan of Chase Utley, young friend, and that is why I am here. You see, when something so tragic happens in your life that you become a naked little ball of pre-pubscent emotion, that’s where I come in. I play my little guitar, I rock out in weird costumes, I wear eye shadow, and I make it all go away for that 3:53.
Your friends and family might stand there and mock you about Utley’s injury. They might say “it’s just a game” or “he’s just some player” or “fantasy baseball isn’t real,” but what you’re hearing is “stop wearing makeup, you look like a fairy” or “when you see these pictures 20 years from now, you’ll want to die of shame” or "I'm serious, it's still won't help you get laid." Those words hurt, and when you’re feeling like you do (or more accurately, like WE do) all you have in this world are feelings. Isn’t that what Descartes said? They teach that in 6th grade, right? No? Anyway, don’t be so sad about Chase. All we can do right now to get over this is lean on each other. Or commit suicide (and for that I recommend song three).
I feel really, really, really, rEaLLy bad actually for my Philly fans. The team is always having such bad luck. To tell you the truth, the majority of my fans are from Philly...for some reason, my band and I just make life easier for people who always lose. My advice? Just let it all out in one good cry, and while you’re at it, enjoy this poem I wrote while I try to escape the lewd advances of Hannah Montana. It’s totally already up on my MySpace and Xanga.
When the World Collapses
And the *Stars* FAll down
Then love’s the only recourse
To keep my feet on solid ground.
Mood: Depressed (obvi)
Monday, July 23, 2007
Adventura Police Dept.
ADVENTURA, FL 3:40 AM
Some people don’t like the graveyard shift. They think the hours feel too long, and the wrong kinds of people are out this late at night. But you know, these are also the same kinds of people who don’t like Haitian gangs, Columbian drug smugglers, Mexican ex-pats, white-crazies, and underground street fights that may or may not be perpetuated by Kimbo Slice. It’s all part of the charm of Miami. Will Smith made that video, Colin Farrell made that movie. Miami can’t be that bad, I mean, Shaq’s here. I served with him once. How he passed the fitness test to become deputized I have no idea, because the man weighs nearly 400 lbs, but the fact that he’s participating and trying to make his community better gives me and the fellow officers a lot of respect for him and all the athletes in this area. Except for the Miami Hurricanes, of course.
(Pickup truck swerves into view)
Ten-twenty-two. It looks like we’ve got a violation here, 48 miles an hour in a 35. Most of the time that’s about par for the course, but this late at night, there’s probably some trouble going on. I’ll flash him and see what he does.
(flashes the siren, car continues at same pace)
Please be advised, we have a seafoam green Ford pickup, unknown make. Warrant search on license plate number is “B-O-N-U-Z-B-A-B-I.”
Well… he’s failing to stop, and whoops, just ran that stop sign. We might have ourselves a runner, here. Unit 64, requesting backup on possible DUI. Just ran a stop sign and is failing to stop. Also note the bumper sticker that reads “In one hand’s a baseball and in the other’s my cock,” which may be a violation of the decency statute, I’m not sure.
(Car travels a mile, and then stops, as the driver, Marlins pitcher Scott Olsen, gets out and sits in a white lawn chair)
Sir-- sir get up from that chair.
(belches) There a problem occifer?
Can I see some ID please?
What? I didn’t do nothin’. I came from work, got outta my truck, and now I’m sitting and enjoying this weather.
(checks over the ID) Ok. Did you see me trying to pull you over?
What? I didn’t see nothin’.
Did you see me try and pull you over?
I didn’t see nothin’. Look man, I’m just trying to live my life, ok? Just trying to live my life. I don’t come trying to live your life, don’t try to come live mine.
What have you been doing tonight?
I’m just shitting out… (snorts laughter) yea, I’m just sitting out enjoying thish nice weather.
Did you have anything to drink tonight, sir?
Did you have anything to drink tonight, sir?
Hell yea I some to drink. I just beat the fucking shit out of the Cincinnati Reds, and I think I have the right to celebrate.
Do me a favor please sir, stand up. We’re going to give you a field sobriety test. Uh, sir?
(Olsen collapses in a heap)
Sir, sir, you’re going to have to stand up if you want to take the test.
Alright, sir. We’re beginning the field sobriety test now. Please recite the alphabet backwards, starting from the letter Z.
Z-Y-X-W-T-U-Z Joe Girardi’s a fucking asshole, next time sing with me shitface. HAHAHAH!! (falls down laughing)
(rolls eyes) Alright, that’s a fail… now, phase two of the test, can you now stand on one leg for 30 seconds? Can you? No… no, sir, don’t go into the windup, and don’t start throwing imaginary pitches—sir? If you continue you’re going to have to do it again.
Those faggots wanted to trade me for Rocco Baldelli? Look who’s playing baseball now. Look who’s playing baseball now? Rocco Baldelli is a fucking pussy. Guy fucking… wouldn’t want to start for any team…
Looks like we’ll mark that as fail. Now sir, focus on me. Can you please follow this light with your eyes, and don’t move your head? Use only your eyes when following my flashlight. Ready? Ready? Begin… sir, why are you staring so hard at me?
I’m showing you my war face.
This is the face I use when I’m going to war. This is my war face. This is the Game 7 World Series war face. This is "I’m going to fucking destroy you" war face, because there is no way in hell we are worse than the fucking Nationals war face, and I will not be relocated to Las Vegas, or Monterray, Mexico, because all of my shit is here and I don’t fucking want to go anywhere.
Uh, ten-twenty-two, we’re gonna need some more backup.
I’m not fucking going anywhere!!
Sir, I am going to place you under arrest for driving under the influence
No! Fuck you! I wasn’t even driving! I wasn’t even driving!
Sir, you have a right to take a breathalyser test…
Fuck you John Law! You’re on my fucking property, and you need to get the fuck out right now.
Sir, if you don’t start to calm down and submit to a test or arrest then we will have to taze you.
I will fucking beat your skinny ass like you are Sergio fucking Mitre if you get the fuck off my house right now!
We’re not on your house sir!
I will fucking use karate! I will fucking use my karate! (starts kicking at the police)
Hold him on the ground! Stop resisting! Taze him again.
Alright, cuff him up. Cuff him up. You got him? Alright, pull him up. Scott Olsen, you are being placed under arrest for driving while under the influence, and resisting arrest for said crime. You have the right to remain silent…
…anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, and if you can’t afford one, then one will be provided for you by the state…
Do you understand these rights?
..........I feel like Miguel Cabrera’s colon.
I’ll take that as a yes. Guys, take him away.
(Olsen is put in the back of a squad car and is driven off to the police station.)
That was just crazy. Absolutely just bizarre. I mean, I arrested Dontrelle a couple months ago, and it was nothing like this. The guy was respectful, nice even. I mean, he was sitting in a pool of his own urine, drenched in Boones Farm, and he was actually pulling sparks on the inside of the guardrail. But this was just crazy.
Just one more night in Miami.
Hat-Tip: S2N via WithLeather.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Here at SlickBomb’s On The Show, I do other things than bash prospects, make fun of bad teams, and do impressions of front-office types. I also read message boards to near-obsessive levels, and I think now would be a good time to share some of the funniest lines, pictures, or avatars that populate the message boards of America’s baseball die-hards. You might say I’m being lazy, and I might tell you to kiss off. If WithLeather, Deadspin, and KSK can get by with purely commeting posts, then why can't I?
In part wakefield, mostly the problem has been the same all season: No clutch hitting. This team will not win this year w/o some sort of shake up -- SinCitySoxFan1978, Sons of Sam Horn.
Heh. I guess eight games up post All-Star Break isn’t nearly enough, then? When people call Sox fans neurotic barely-functional whackos, this is probably why.
Kyle Farnsworth- 101 MPH of pure dogshit. -- Tommy22, NoMass.org board.
Short, succient, to the point, and 100% correct. Just imagine if he was playing in right field.
-- JLaff, Athletics Nation.
Bwahaha. Picture’s worth a thousand words. Why Kendal is wearing a football helmet, though, I have no idea.
What do the Pirates have to lose? How about the rest of the fan base? -- Nathan, Where Have You Gone Andy Van Slyke?
Remember, kids. It can always get worse. You could be the Cubs!
those ankiel minor league stats almost make me cry... i say we bring him up, wait till some extra inning game when LaDuncs used all of our bullpen playing the matchup game then ask ankiel to throw a few innings instead of spezio and who knows, maybe the young ace returns... i'd say that would solve our pitching problem. -- all in the cards, Viva El Birdos.
Come on. If that’s not the funniest thing you’ve ever read then you haven’t been paying attention. A World Series win last year and these guys are STILL thinking Ankiel's the savior. This guy did a Mark Fidrych impersonation better than Mark Fidrych! Let the man hit!
-- Fat Vegas Alan, Red Reporter.
As if the State of Ohio didn't have enough to worry about already.
-- Rev HaloFan, Halos Heaven.
If Ervin Santana gets this kind of reaction, imagine the feelings about Bartolo Colon? You just can't trust a pitcher named after an excretion organ. That picture just slays me, no pun intended.
I've always thought Jose Valentin looks like a rapist. -- The Third Giles, Gas Lamp Ball.
Yes, yes, and more yes. Ladies in the bars of New York, when Jose Valentine offers you a drink, say you have a boyfriend and walk away.
That’s enough for me. Remember folks-- if you're saying something interesting on the Internet, then people will read it, and laugh either with or at you. Hopefully it's more of the latter.
Monday, July 16, 2007
Greetings, fuckwits. You are all lucky enough to be in the presence of the most freakishly intelligent man in the history of professional baseball. I find your invitation to the Pasadena Shrine of the Eternals appropriate, and thus, I’ve decided to actually show up and do a little Q & A. It’s not quite the baseball Hall of Fame, but that will obviously come in time. My minions call me "The Sage of New Hampshire," and this gives me the right to pass on a hearty “fuck you” to Warren Buffet, "The Sage of Ohmaha." Whereas I’m the sage of my own state, he’s only a sage of a city, so I own his ass. What do you mean New Hampshire doesn’t count as a state? Lick my balls.
For years I’ve been saying things like “It’s entirely possible to be completely successful in the baseball business without ascribing to any of my work.” I, much like the vast majority my followers (just look on Internet message boards everywhere), am reversing this statement, and saying that it is total bullcrap, and anyone who doesn’t follow in-depth statistical baseball analysis should automatically lose the right to watch a game of professional baseball. I mean, why watch when you can't possibly understand everything what's going on? In some cases, said person should lose the right to breed, because he/she might have a son, and that would pervert this glorious eugenics of baseball I’m striving to achieve, here. Baseball is not for the plebs, people! It is for we happy few, we band of egg-heads, who have never played an ounce of the game professionally yet still by the light of our incalculable intellects, know absolutely everything there is to know. On to your almost certainly dumb questions.
What’s your opinion of Darin Erstad, and considering his track record with the Angels, isn't a player like that valuable on a championship team?
Haha. HAHAHAHA. BWAHAHAHA!! In the Dark Ages, hordes of roving barbarian Cossack tribes in what is now Southern Russia would conquer neighboring peoples, and in a fit of sport, would throw their infant children to hungry wolves and watch them be eaten. That’s what I’d do to Darin Erstad, if I had a time machine, which by the way, I’m inventing, and fuck you, it’s already patented, because it’s a motherfucking time machine. Darin Erstad blows donkey balls. He can’t hit, he can’t field, and he can’t play. And who gives a monkey-shit about how he “hustles” and “won championships”? I don’t know how many times I have to say this: if I can’t put it in a spreadsheet, dickhead, then it DOESN’T.FUCKING.EXIST.
Look where that little bitch is right now-- trying to avoid getting DFA’ed by the Chicago White Sox (or CHA for any of you non BP subscribing cock goblins). Any team that steals, bunts, and gives consistent AB’s to Scott Podsednik, deserves a punch right in the pussy. Darin Erstad sucks, he should die, next question.
Are you impressed with Brewers 1B Prince Fielder, and what does his progression mean for smaller market teams?
According to the tools that I invented (praise me) such as VORP, RCAA, Win Shares, and other super-cereal-statistics given by me solely to the Boston Red Sox to be unleashed like a tactical nuclear warhead, I can tell you that Prince Fielder is the best overall player in terms of everything, relative to cost. Yea and what else is new? What this means for smaller market teams is that it is time to stop spending big money on marquee free agents if your team is filled with a bunch of crap players. The only way to make your team succeed is to undergo a harsh rebuilding process where nearly each and every one of your core players is acquired through the draft. What if you can't draft, or afford the outrageous signing bonuses top picks get nowadays? Too bad bitch. Now, this rebuilding typically takes around five years, and by that time your fans will either be gone, rooting for the Yankees, or giving their energies to a different sport, but how is that my fucking problem exactly? I just make the rules, if you don’t like the way how they’re used, then tough testicles. After all, the best part about sitting in an ivory tower is pissing on the people below you.
Mr. James, you’ve never apologized for your criticisms of the Dowd report, despite Pete Rose proclaiming his guilt and affirming everything written in its findings. Don’t you think that as one of the leading voices in baseball theory, you have an obligation to speak your piece on a corrupting influence in the game?
No comment, next question, and fuck you.
Horrors of horrors, the New York Yankees haven’t won a World Series in seven whole years. Isn’t it better to let A-Rod opt out, and try to rebuild the team around pitching and defense? The guy isn’t at all clutch!
I remain unconvinced about the theory of “clutch” and it’s usefulness to baseball analysis. But what I do know is that you are a drooling, dribbling, retard. According to my statistics (again, praise me) Rodriguez is the best all-around player in the game. Consider that with the dollars Texas has contributed, and Rodriguez is a relative bargain for New York. There are some indicators that in a short series, pitching and defense wins (the sample sizes are too small obvi), but your belief that the Yankees should rid themselves of their best player in order to achieve this is somewhere between the stupidest idea that’s ever defiled the sanctuary of my glorious mind, and guganuafia’a, which is stat-speak for “you are a dumbshit.” But sure, fuck it, boo the fucker and drive him away. It makes my job a hell of a lot easier.
In closing, I’d like to thank Pasadena, but truly, I am already an “Eternal.” It was a nice ceremony, with balloons and sangria, but I was expecting something more… regal. After all, I am the father of statistical baseball analysis, the most important man in baseball, and (according to some people) the finest living being on the planet. Armchair net jockeys everywhere use my teachings like a voodoo talisman against any who would dare say that it's important to steal when the team can't seem to score. I’m like Kim Jong Il from the North Korean perspective, except I look like the gay guy who won the 1st Survivor competition. Next time, I hope you change your veneration practices accordingly, and try hard not to be so stupid.
Have you ever eaten a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup while sitting on the toilet? It’s an interesting experience to say the least. The sweet, chocolate, peanut-buttery taste caresses your taste buds in their succulent awesomeness, but because of the look of the candy and the place you’re sitting, the thought never leaves your mind that “Oh my God, I think I'm eating a giant sample of stool!” That’s basically how I feel about the 2007 Milwaukee Brewers. It might look and taste good, but after thinking about it, things go downhill pretty quickly.
The positives about these guys are the platitudes: “They play the game the right way,” “they have a lot of youth and enthusiasm,” “the game comes easy to them,” etc. Have you ever actually looked at the way their lineup is constructed? The starting pitching is not that great, and wunderkind Ben Sheets is still an injury waiting to happen. After one more ten strikeout game his arm is bound to explode. Ace-closer Francisco Cordero has been among the NL’s best this season, but this is the player who made a Howard Hughes style meltdown in Texas look like cold feet before marriage. Before you know it, the guy will be blowing saves, throwing up like Willie Beaman in the bullpen before games, and keeping his urine in plastic bags.
The hitting is not much better. JJ Hardy has been playing over his head for a while now, and is due for a regression. Do you really thing he’s going to hit 35 HR’s, and have a slugging percentage around .500? There is no chance the 2nd coming of Alex Rodriguez could play in Milwaukee-- it’s seriously not possible. Besides, the guy is basically the Brady Quinn of professional baseball. Is this the kind of dude you’d really want your team to rely on down the stretch? And speaking of “stretching,” “closing windows”, and JJ Hardy, let’s just say that the one in the upper-deck isn’t the only chute that Bernie Brewer is sliding around in.
And speaking of horrific regressions, how about 3B, SS and OF Bill Hall? It seems like last year was the serious aberration, and this season is indicative what Hall can do. This guy’s strikeouts make Mike Cameron look like Tony Gwynn, except thinner and not nearly as black. Not to mention that by the time Hall is finished getting worse, the guy’ll be playing in AAA, and will have by that time committed a fantasy baseball holocaust not even the owners of Andruw Jones have ever seen.
If these things happen (and the way things have gone for the Brewers and their fans, they must) then the team’s division rivals are bound to overtake them eventually. Although it’s generally not a good idea to count on the Cubs for anything other than national embarrassment, the 300 million dollar men are starting to come around as of late, and are only about four games back in the division standings. In addition, the computer projections have always like the Cards in this division, and if Albert Pujols makes up for the time that was lost earlier in the season, and the Rick Ankiel experience gives the team a Josh Hamilton-level boost, then the NL Central crown will be ripe for the picking.
Time to face the facts—the Brewers are doomed. The club right now is hanging by a thread, and is probably a Paris Hilton hookup away from all out implosion. They might have tasted pretty good at first, but all you’ve really been eating is a nice chunk of feces. It might have taken a little longer than I originally projected, but the season is over nonetheless. Enjoy watching the playoffs at home once again, gentlemen, and please watch where you eat.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
According to the Seattle Times, the Mariners are set to sign Ichiro Suzuki for 20 million dollars over the next five years, signaling that after a few years of financial discipline and forward thinking, the financial baseball market has gone officially and completely insane. Keeping Ichiro around for the short-term should be a priority, but the long term ramifications of this deal make Alfonso Soriano’s mega-deal with the Cubs look like Frank Thomas’ year in Oakland by comparison. Seeing Garret Anderson, Bernie Williams, and Jeff Bagwell cripple around the bases in their twilight years hasn’t exactly inspired GM’s everywhere to give older guys big contracts, has it?
Despite a few inquiries to the contrary, Ichiro is a no-doubt Hall of Famer. 200 hits a season for 10 years would put him in the pantheon for the best pure hitters in the history of the game: Cobb, Gwynn, ####*, Aaron. But as much of a reputation as Ichiro has (and you basically have to have a rep to get away with using only one name) the guy isn’t the overall offensive weapon some folks make him out to be. He doesn’t get on base regularly, he doesn’t hit for power, really all he does is hit the ball well and generally keeps it in the park, and I’m under the impression that those kinds of guys don’t age too well.
Think about it, singles hitters rely so much on their speed—to stretch out a double from a hit that would ordinarily be a single, or beat out a bunt attempt or a chop over the mound outright. Without that speed, the 30 or so extra hits a year that turn into outs can take a pretty hefty toll on a batting average, and when you don’t hit for power or walk much to begin with… a team miiiight not want to give that guy big dollars until he’s nearly 40. Throw in what seems to me like a generally mediocre performance in centerfield this year, and this has Bernie Williams territory written all over it. This is not to say that Ichiro won’t be a productive player for the next few years, but for the next five? That gets a little iffy. Are the dollars that come in from Japan with Ichiro playing really enough to make up for a 20 million dollar below average player in 2011?
The real story out of all this is the coinciding bump free agents will get in salary once this deal’s done. With a slap-hitter like Ichiro making 20 million, what will this do to the rest of baseball salaries? 20 million for Torii Hunter? 25 Million for the atrocious Adam Dunn? 30 million for Carlos Zambrano? Don’t even get me started on what A-Rod will be worth. This all started when Omar Minaya gave 13 million to the rotator cuff formally known as Pedro Martinez, and with the contemptible Scott Boras having the ear of the commissioner, chances are it’ll only get worse.
Fans everywhere are getting screwed because of this deal, and not just because that little SOB Ichiro will be terrorizing the AL for the next half decade. The increase in player salaries across the board will mean that (a) Your favorite player will be leaving for bigger money than it takes to keep him and (b) When he signs that contact, he’ll be terrible by the end of it. You mean there’s a lose-lose situation in baseball that doesn’t involve watching the Home Run derby? Count me in! The baseball financial market’s officially done lost it’s mind. Time to ride the madness, watch the carnage, and just sit back and enjoy the crazy.
*Name redacted by order from Major League Baseball and its clubs.
Monday, July 9, 2007
In terms of generally every measure, be it wealth, influence, or happiness, almost every place on Earth has been made better by the natural wheels of the future that creates progress as a byproduct. In fact, there are few places on planet in this world that are demonstrably worse today than they were 30 years ago. However, arch-dictator Robert Mugabe’s Zimbabwe just so happens to be one of those places. The other is the baseball city of Pittsburgh, under the stewardship of CEO Kevin McClatchy. Now, you might read the post’s title and think that comparing a relatively benign executive to a murderous and possibly insane African dictator is the height of lunacy, but hey, crazy is what I do here at OnTheShow, and if you laugh at something horrible, it helps make the nightmarish reality of it all much easier to deal with. This reality being 14 losing seasons, of course. Let us count the transgressions against humanity!
Ignoring the pleas of fans = Massive Voter Suppression
Numerous petitions for new ownership = institutional election fraud
Trading Kris Benson = Systematic persecutions of homosexuals
Using tax dollars to build PNC = race-based farm takeover program
Causing a statewide increase in Phanaics = thousands of executions
Having to pay beyond top dollar for anything resembling a decent free agent = Weekly increases in inflation that’s risen to nearly 15,000 percent above the norm
The only accurate descriptions for each of these places are quaint little corners of Hell. The ‘Burgh has ugly women, crummy weather, the Amish, and 14 years of unabated losing. Zimbabwe has AIDS, malaria, widespread starvation, and unimaginable poverty. It’s my understanding that when faced with a choice between the two, most people would pick Pittsburgh, but they might have to think about it. Now, according to several sources, change is in the air. Mugabe is promising elections within the next two to four years, and Pirates CEO Kevin McClatchy has agreed to step down after this season. But then again, haven’t Mugabe apologists been saying the “old man” will eventually step down for a while now? The way the Pirates operation has shaken out, I can see McClatchy staying on while a replacement is found, then staying on for another season, then staying on indefinitely. If it works for 3rd world dictators after all, it’ll work for the Pittsburgh Pirates.
The baseball city of Pittsburgh and Mugabe’s Zimbabwe are some of the most wretched places to have ever cursed God’s Earth. The transgressions against their people are legion, and all stem from the leadership of the executive. The sooner these two are removed from their posts, the sooner their followers can enjoy living again, and move in a more positive direction. After all, Andruw Jones is a free agent, and the status quo hasn't worked out. They're bound to be interested, right?
NOTE: If you’d like to make a contribution to the very generous causes of helping the people mentioned in this post click here. Or, you know, here.
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
July 4th is a celebration of our independence, and all of what is right in the United States. There are only two things that I can think of are quintessentially American. One is Jazz. The other is baseball. On this outstanding July 4th holiday, I hope that you are doing one of those things that isn’t lame. Catch you guys on the flip.
Sunday, July 1, 2007
On Sunday, Mike Hargrove resigned as the Manager of the Seattle Mariners due to a “lack of passion” for the game, and an interest to spend more time with his family. OnTheShow interviewed high profile players on the club to gauge their reactions.
Jeff Weaver, SP – Damn brah, I’m so high right now. I think I just need to lay down and ish. What? Grover’s gone dude? No way, man. How can you not love it here? The coffee’s great, the music scene is so uplifting, and the local college has some of the best weed in the country. Whatever the reason, it can’t be my pitching, right? I’ve been on a roll this month, right? I don’t even know anymore, man.
Richie Sexson, 1B – Out of all the people I’ve been managed for (and believe me, there has been a few), Grover’s probably the only guy who’d call a hit-and-run when I was on 1st base. I’d be all like “Grover, the last time I successfully stole a base was in 1997.” Well, he said he “had a feeling about it,” and I guess he has a feeling about this play too. I just hope it works out better than that hit-and-run did.
Adam Jones, OF – Grover was the 1st manager I’ve ever had, so I’ll remember his lessons for the rest of my career, ya know? My favorite lesson was “use a different name when checking into a hotel.” I was in Tacoma playing in AAA, and after pickin' up some poonani, and I tried to check in as Adam Jones. Peoples start jumpin’ over tables for cover and shit. I was like “damn, yo, I ain’t Pac-Man!” but they wouldn’t listen. People started crying, begging for their lives and ish. Dudes started giving me their wallets. This one dude gave me a diamond ring he was smuggling up in his ass, and I was like “yo, son, I ain’t Pac-Man.” It’s like every black athlete with essentially no college education named Adam Jones is forever tainted because of this crackhead. If he goes to play the Seahawks in five years after he gets outta prison or whatever, I’ma beat his ass.
Shigeru Miyamoto, Nintendo – As Head Game Designer for Nintendo, Inc, I knew Hargrove-san, but only tangentially. I tried to create a baseball game using Hargrove’s exact managerial techniques, and it resulted in game with all-time lows in scoring. He would call bunts for Adrian Beltre, and would steal bases with Kenji Jojima. Everyone at Nintendo appreciated his years of service, but perhaps this is for the best.
Ichiro, OF – Manager Hargrove always managed with the warrior’s spirit, and tried his best to instill the spirit within all who played for him. However, his recent abandonment of our team makes us all question his teachings. A general who flees while his troops are still in battle is a coward of the highest order, and his family name will be forever stained. If he wishes to cleanse himself from this dishonor, he is welcome to take his own life via seppuku. Out of respect, I will allow him my sword for this task.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Andy Pettitte is saying the New York Yankees don’t “care” enough, Kyle Farnsworth is breaking things with practice bats, Scott Proctor is swearing at the media, and murmurs in the Yankee clubhouse say that Roger Clemens is missing the strikezone due to cataracts in his eyes, and forgetting pitch signs due to general senility. To put it mildly, the Bombers are facing an outright mutiny not seen since The Bronx Was Burning. Naturally, cackles of schadenfreude are heard from the usual suspects, but the question begs-- who is the savior who can bring the Highlanders back from the brink of elimination? What paragon of virtue and ability can rally the Yankee troops, and start a wild ride that will end deep into October with a World Series victory? Why, Shea Hillenbrand, of course.
Just when you think things have absolutely hit rock-bottom, Yankees GM Brian Cashman is apparently very close to agreeing to acquire the worst DH in the American League this side of Johnny Damon. Hillenbrand is a guy who:
1. Sucks, to put it mildly
2. Got in a fist fight with his manager
3. Wrote on the white-board of the Toronto locker room “The ship is sinking, play for your contracts.”
I don’t know about you, but that sounds like the perfect guy to bring on when a ship actually is sinking! Before you know it, the media locust swarm will be crowded around Hillenbrand’s locker like flies are to feces, and the “Shea-Hey Kid” will be saying, candidly, how doomed the team really is. That'll be great for morale I'm sure. Also, as much as I’d like to punch Joe Torre in the face (and this year, the feeling has occurred more often than not) it’s not like I would actually do it. Hillenbrand would. We haven’t seen a Yankee geriatric go down in violence since Don Zimmer in 2003, and how did that work out?
I’m not very persuaded by the arguments that there are some players that just know how to “win.” But there are some out there that just know how to lose. This is a guy who has only once played on a team that’s finished the season with an above .500 record, and has never sniffed playoff baseball. Is that, keeping in mind the other flaws mentioned above, really the kind of guy a team would want in a foxhole during a pennant race? I’m certainly not a baseball player, but I sure as hell wouldn’t think so.
All is not great in Yankee land. The team is on the verge of
Hat-Tip: The essential MLB Trade Rumors.
Snoozing Torre courtesy of nomaas.org.
My good friends of the KSK Gay Mafia are marking their one year anniversary together! If that's not just the height of Internet fabulosity, then I don't know what is. A year ago to the day, they all packed their bags up to San Francisco, got hitched, and launched their 1st ever post. Today, they're having a "stayed-together spectacular" celebrating how funny they all are. While most websites can't pull this off without being somewhat obnoxious, campy, pretentious, and self-congratulatory, isn't that what the gay movement in America is all about? Be sure to celebrate this fantastic occasion with other distinguished guests:*
1. Peter King's Famous Daughter, Mary-Beth King! A softball playing attendee at a liberal arts college would fit right in at an all gay party, despite the elephants in the room. MBK promises not to get too drunk, as not to give the mafia more ammunition.
2. Sex Boat Captain Fred Smoot, and his 1st mate, Dinari! Name not meant to be ironic, the golden couple helped launch Vikings fan Big Daddy Drew into Internet Superstardom (which in most quarters is a lot like being a prince in Hell).
3. Dr. Z! The Doyen of the Sports Illustrated Football Corps, Z is going at the behest of the flaming redhead. While things like "Young People" and "The Internet" are strange and frightening to him, expect Z to bash Art Monk about 3,000 times while he's there. The phrase "Eight Yard Hooks" will give Unsilent Majority the same reaction as a Hezbollah guerrilla staring at a stick figure of Mohammad, and that my friends, is high comedy.
4. Slayer! Not actually a death-metal band, this particular Slayer is the world championship pit-bull owned by Atlanta's own run-first freaknik, Michael Vick. Because he's worth nearly 100 thousand dollars, Slayer will be guarded by Vick-brother Marcus, who desperately needed a job. Why would an athlete worth millions in endorsements and NFL contracts participate in an activity that could ruin him financially? Because that's how you keep it real.
Yours truly will be there all day, and you should be to. I'll take this moment to present this toast: To the KSK Gay Mafia, more talent than Dead-On, more popular than Ladies-dotx3, you'll be always be the 1st Deadspin-spinoff in our hearts. And our bookmarks. And probably, our anuses.
*Guest list subject to change.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Scott Boras, baseball super-agent for Alex Rodriguez, Barry Zito, and the soon to be free agent Carlos Zambrano, has a new idea that could have only come from the mind of someone using powerful and deadly mind expanding drugs. Some might say it’s strange for someone so rich and influential to be under the influence of such substances, but ever since Ed Muskie got all whacked out on Ibogaine in 1972, anything is possible in America if there is enough corruption involved. New York scribe Bob Klapisch describes the idea in depth: Expand the World Series to nine games, with two of the 1st nine games in presumably neutral grounds and warm-weather cities to enhance the stature of the game. This will give high-profile business types yet another glory-hole to suck-off their high level clientele.
First off, this plan is complete and total lunacy. Baseball is supposedly already planning on extending the playoff format to seven-game series in the division and championship series. Throw in an extra two games in a warm weather city will push World Series games deeper into November, which will make fantastic television when the Red Sox, Yankees, Cubs, (and if God is kind) the White Sox and O’s will be playing in the snow. Second thing, unless the games are played in outer-space, can there really be a neutral ground in baseball? A site like Florida has the Marlins and future powerhouse D-Rays, Texas has the Rangers, and even though no one in California takes baseball seriously, it’s still got
And do you know what’s worse outside of this general insanity? It’s that the doddering old nincompoop Bud Selig is actually taking the time to humor him. In case everyone didn’t already know, the labor-vs.-management struggle that in many ways has been the history of professional baseball, makes the mass genocide between the Hutus and the Tutsis look like a skirmish between the Hatfields and the McCoys by comparison. This is the guy who has been drastically driving up the price of free agents for years, now has the ear of the principal negotiator for ownership? Bart Giamatti would be rolling in his grave.
Maybe Boras has his motives. Maybe he thinks that by expanding the stature of the Series it’ll make baseball more popular, his players higher in demand, and ere go, himself more rich. Maybe by playing a game always in Florida, teams can just transport a 600 pound (and by that time, client) Miguel Cabrera via semi-truck instead of a much more dangerous private jet. That’s an Aalyiah tragedy waiting to happen. But more realistically, Boras is smoking crack. Tina Turner said that crack was for poor people, but is there really any other explanation, here? Crack makes the mind feel crazy things—paranoia, mania, and fanatically greedy. All these were in play when he came up with this blasphemous idea. Lay off the crack Scotty, and our game will be just fine.
UPDATE: There are five California baseball teams: LA, San Fran, Anahiem, San Diego, and Oakland/Freemont. Thanks to Ben, Rob I., and the people who e-mailed.
In case you didn’t know (and if you’re reading this site, it’s impossible that you do not) Deadspin, the Internet Walmart for all things involving “underground” and “sports,” has undertaken a massive, fantastic site re-design. As one of the oldest and most senior Deadspinners around, I thought I should give my expanded take. I absolutely love it! I also loved New Coke, the Sacagawea dollar, Crystal Clear Pepsi, and ESPN mobile, so maybe my opinion should be taken with a grain of salt. My main qualm is not that the ‘Spin fixed something that wasn’t broke, or forced a radical change on it's viewers without a hint of what was to come, it’s that it didn’t go nearly far enough! You don’t change a Michelangelo statue with a chisel-- you break out the fucking jackhammer. Here’s some ideas that’ll be sure to make everyone's Deadspin experience much, much better. Or at least more synergistic.
1. Since synergy with the Gawker Media Empire is already an obvious priority, why not bring on Commenter Executions, gay editors, and intrusive and potentially unverifiable athlete sightings? The sightings were a staple of site back in the day, and the KSK gay mafia can be brought in for the homosexual quotient. The site Executions on Deadspin have come far and few in between, and it could be seen as a real slap in the face to a person who was loyal to your brand and product, but hey, if it gets you past the post quota for the day/week, why not do it?
2. Smilies, smilies, and more smilies! People who actually use descriptive words to convey emotions are, by definition, ignorant morons. Let’s bring in smiley faces!
Better yet, let’s get those REALLY LOUD smilies that haunt the MySpace pages of America’s lonely. “HELLLOOOOO!” and “WHAT!” are sure to make everyone reading at work really know what site they’re viewing. Not only will it ratchet up ad revenue, it’ll bring in all those MTV-TRL viewers that might have been turned off by the commentariot’s initial salvo.
3. And speaking of the executed, this is already the Deadspin’s Vietnam, so why not bring back all the soldiers that were mentally unstable to begin with? Let’s resurrect Pot Roast n’ Gravy, TseTseFly, and Supermikes 1, 2, and 3. Will they bring anything to the table? Of course not! Did they ever? If “Embrace the Suck” is good enough for the US Marine Corps in Iraq, then it should be darn good enough for Deadspin.
Come on people, wasn’t it obvious this entire time that wholesale changes had to have been made? You might have thought Deadspin kicked ass and was totally sweet, but you’re just an ignorant prole who has no idea about the complex research and in-depth analysis that goes into running an intergalactic Internet media empire. The changes our favorite site has made have gone far, true, but obviously not far enough. Do what I’ve written here, and the advertising dollars will flow the pooty-juice on a sex-boat. Biggie might have said “Mo Money, Mo Problems” but he’s dead. How smart can he really be?
Make the Changes, Deadspin, and let our glorious revolucion continue. Vamanos!
UPDATE: The "Viva La Leitch" T-shirt is obviously from the outstanding 289 Designs. Buy his products immediately, if possible. Especially the Masshole shirt. Bonus points if you're not being ironic.
After getting swept by the hapless Cubs, reports are beginning to surface that a fire sale is now being planned for the Chicago White Sox that’ll make the Reds yearly reach-around look like the Mulder-Haren trade, as yet another season ends in ignominious failure. While some bastions of support still exist (generally within the prison population of Illinois) it’s understood that when your club is only a game and a half up on the Kansas City Royals, it’s time to give up the ship. This is a welcome development for most baseball fans, because despite winning a World Series in 2005, the Southsiders haven’t exactly become America’s team.
Outside of Internet phenom Jim Thome and the ever entertaining Ozzie Guillen, there isn’t a lot to like with this brand of White Sox. Ever since Jose Contreras was reunited with his family and was placed in a lower-pressure environment, the guy lost a lot of his good story and drawing power. Any team that values Scott Podsednik can’t be taken seriously, and the media blow-ups the team’s General Manager has with past players leave a bad taste in viewers’ mouths, since the world will remember Frank Thomas long after Kenny Williams is dead. Injuries abound with the 2007 club, and while almost none of it could have been planned or corrected, these kinds of things don’t happen to the Dallas Cowboys of the world. Unless of course you’re Michael Irvin.
The fact is, outside of a banner World Series victory in recent memory, the White Sox are probably one of the most wretched franchises that’s ever graced the national pastime. Before an 88 year championship drought was extinguished, they were even more pathetic than the Red Sox, but with far worse press coverage. Really, outside of providing misery for their own followers and fodder for the fans of other teams, the most notable thing about the CHW’s were those uniforms with the shorts, which were also some of the historically bad variety. Just like Rutgers football really has no place in the pantheon of great college teams, the White Sox don’t probably belong in the list of great teams and perennial contenders along with the Yankees, Red Sox, Cardinals, A’s, and Dodgers. Ere go, this team was doomed from the start—it was written in the stars.
Now, does this mean things can’t get better? In a macro sense, yes. But good trades of essentially the entire team could put the White Sox in prime position to repeat some semblance of their 2005 success, provided the Twins, Indians, Tigers, and Royals, all get progressively worse as the years go by, and that has a pretty good chance of happening, right?
It’s time to revel in glorious schadenfreude, and outside of watching (VaJay)Jay Mariotti poking White Sox fans with a stick through his gilded cage, the greatest thing about the early demise of the White Sox are the wailings of the insidious Ken “the Hawk” Harrelson. If you are a person who believes in “goodness” and “truth” then Harrelson is almost certainly the Joesph Goebbels of a Major League Baseball organization. Not only during his announcing is he out-and-out rooting for the Southsiders, he tells outright lies to keep the fans entertained. Seeing Iraqi Information Minister Harrelson do the play-by-play for one of the league’s worst teams will bring delight to the millions of viewers who can actually see WGN.
Congratulations to the 2007 Chicago White Sox. For about the first month of the season, you guys hung in there pretty well. Unforunately, this would not be the case throughout the rest of the baseball year. The new rallying cry of your team will now be “Let’s not be worse than the Royals.” It’s an accomplishable goal, I think. Probably more so than winning another World Series this century, anyway.
Monday, June 25, 2007
For those don’t already know, I am a big-time Yankee fan. Huge, even. It’s why when I see my fellow fans saying or doing things that mind-bendingly stupid, I cringe and woefully acknowledge that, yes, perhaps a large portion of Yankee fans really are the delusional imbeciles that everyone claims them to be. Therefore, when I see a idea or statement that is so righteous in its woeful stupidity, I take this task of bitch slapping all the offenders back to Africa with a distinct pleasure, similar to the way a pimp does when he slaps around his ho’. I realize that this might hurt a tad, but fear not, you’ll all be better people after this thrashing.
The number of offenses are legion, but the most glaring one is the obsession with a little-known relief specialist named Colter Bean. Bean, an Auburn Tiger and Yankees draftee, has spent almost his entire career in service to the Yankees minor league system. Poor measurables such as a having no fastball, no movement on said fastball, no secondary pitches worth mentioning, and no knowledge of how to pitch, had the organization down on him, for very good reasons. After getting annihilated while pitching in brief stints in the majors, Bean was sent back down to AAA, probably to serve out the rest of his wholly undistinguished career.
In pro-wrestling, Bean would be called a "jobber." Jobbers were paid not to be the star attraction, but generally to put work in, lose, and make everyone around them look better. The pitcher's numbers against poor competition are good, true, but to a team competing for a World Championship, Bean is a worthless commodity and should probably have been released years ago. In fact, I say that he's less than worthless, because his very presence takes a spot away from a player who might actually help the major league club somewhere along the line.
However, delusional Yankee fans still flock to this guy, and treat him like he actually might be one of the answers to Yankees myriad of bullpen woes. He's not. "Free Colter Bean!" they cry. A website was made in his honor, which answers the age-old question “Is there really anyone out there dumb enough to fall for a pyramid scheme?”
A Bean defender might say “You realize you are deeming him worthless after only seven innings in the majors, right?” No.
He's worthless because he throws 85 miles an hour.
He's worthless because he's got a career ERA of 9.00 and a WHIP that's nearly 2.500.
He's worthless because Joe Torre abuses his relievers like they are insolent wives, and even HE won't use him.
He's worthless because people who know more in their little finger than you, I, or anyone including the so-called Internet experts know about the game of base-ball say he's worthless.
He's worthless because he was put up for grabs to any major league team when he was put on waivers, and everyone passed on him. The Texas Rangers, who are scouting little-league parent-pitch baseball games for anything remotely resembling a live arm, passed on Colter Bean. Just as a special exercise, they even opened up the waiver process to Japan-- no takers. The Dominican Summer League? No takers. Remember that story about the new Israeli baseball team? That team they're building in Israel? Bean's surname was shortened from "Beanowitz" when his parents came over from Ellis Island. He's eligible to play. The Yankees offered him up on waivers… even THEY passed on him.
Did you know that they played baseball the Planet Vulcan? It's not exactly fun, because everyone can read each other's mind, so the hitter knows what's coming. Games end up being like 100-97. However, they lack the strength human beings possess to throw a baseball faster than 70 mph. Even the Vulcans passed on Colter Bean.
The only thing Bean needs to be free from are his delusions that he's a major league player. Perhaps he's just trying to collect a paycheck, and his supporters are the ones that are delusional. Lucky for all of you, Mr. Slick, in all of his infinite wisdom, is relieving you all from such vision. I am hereby ending the career (if you can call it that) of Colter Bean. Yankee fans-- he is not a savior. Fans of other AL teams-- he will not come up again, so quit waiting around like little kids on Christmas morning.
Colter, if you're reading this, in that demented attempt at the intellectual pornography called Google-scanning, you are hereby anointed by the High Priest of the Church of Matsuzaka, to quit the Yankees, and go teach gym. Outside of perverse schadenfreude-ian comedic value, enjoyed only by people whose grip on sanity is tenuous at best, you will not be missed. Hallelujah, and Amen.
UPDATE: The owner of FreeColterBean.com has expressed his thoughts on Bean in the comment section. Suppress your laughter accordingly.