Showing posts with label Baseball. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Baseball. Show all posts

Thursday, April 15, 2010

Don't Say the R-word

As usual, the Twins Geek reads my mind:


Why is it that anytime anyone in sports even implies racism, ESPN has to trot out all their black analysts to assure us that that person is just a crazy loose cannon and racism is some kind of vestigial tail that we would all be happier if we pretended doesn't even exist?

Someone disagree with me on this so I can point out all the "scrappy" white players and "violent" black players and "clever" Asian players on your favorite teams.



---


Monday, March 22, 2010

Joe Joe the Monkey Catcher

Today I am very happy because the Pohlads have finally made good use of that ol' farm-foreclosin' money to sign hometown boy, MVP and dreamy-sideburns-having Joe Mauer to an eight year contract extension, which means that for once Yankees fans have to swallow their ass-holery and admit that they won't be getting this one for their stable and that, at least until they buy Albert Pujols by promising to dip his entire family in gold and feed them diamonds for breakfast, our catcher is better than their catcher, so there.

For a real discussion of real things related to this news, go here:

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Stata, my nizzles

I can say nizzles, right? We can pretend it's just a totally made up word and not based on any other word that I would never ever say, even when singing along with Ol' Dirty Bastard on car trips because yelling is a good way to not fall asleep while driving or being driven through Wisconsin. Well, if not, consider this my apology.

Anyway, today I got my new Stata 11 disc, which is awesome because it's the third data analysis programming language I've learned which makes me trilingual in Nerdland I think, but also means that I don't have to go into my office every weekend to do my Practicum assignments which are really really important and all, but I have this thing about putting on pants and walking a mile and a half to sit in a windowless room and explore publicly available datasets when I could be doing it from home. It's not every day you can pick up a pizza on the way and watch the Twins, particularly since they did the honorable thing and bowed out of this sham of a playoffs.

So, I'm wishing right now that I had come up with some much more better and interestinger topic for a blog because there's just really nothing interesting about downloading a program from a cd onto your laptop, no matter how you spin it unless you spin it like remember floppy discs when they were still floppy and it took twelve of them to download solitaire onto your desktop computer which was beige colored?

My laptop is black.

---

Monday, October 12, 2009

Goodbye Metrodome

Yes, it's another baseball post. Yes, I know it infuriates you because you feel lost and confused and you wish I'd talk more about how I woke up yesterday with grime under my fingernails and a cut on my hand and I don't know why, so I'm just waiting to see which thing in my house I disassembled and reassembled in my sleep, but that's just too bad because the Twins played their last game in the Metrodome last night, on account of losing to the Yankees in game three of the first round of the playoffs, so they had to shuffle out without the big celebration the Hefty Bag deserves. Or at least I think that's what happened, since we were watching it on TBS with the sound off and they kept showing the stupid Yankees players with their halfhearted celebration, rather than focusing on Joe Nathan stealing dirt from the mound in the background and a couple groundskeepers trying to pull up home plate with crowbars. I can only assume that Michael Cuddyer also cut some material from the baggie, Delmon Young nabbed a piece of turf and Alexi Casilla tried to fit second base in his back pocket.

There was also a distinct lack of nostalgia for the Dome in our local bar, even though the day manager is from Minnesota and there were other Twins fans in the bar even, because the Tennessee Titans were busy losing very badly and also a paranoid schizophrenic came in and sat down next to us and started accusing the bartender of being in the CIA and then got tossed, but was allowed to bring his tacos with him, which he seemed to be grateful for and only a little put out that they didn't have Louisiana Hot Sauce for him to take with him.

For some reason that got more attention than the game for awhile.

Anyway, a tearful farewell to the place I learned to love baseball and hate the outdoors, to where Kirby made catches and hit homeruns over plexiglass, where Tori rattled his brains against an unpadded outfield fence, where Doug Mientkiewicz did the splits at first and Joe Mauer just wouldn't stop growing behind home plate and where Johann Santana threw seventeen strikeouts in a game and Big Papi got his start and Terry Tiffee sold some jeans, where Paul Molitor got a lot of his 3,000 hits and Cristian Guzman got accused of loafing at shortstop and Eddie Guardado did deep knee bends and rearranged his junk at least four times per batter. Not even to mention the hall of famers that have Minneapolis streets named after them and the ones that undoubtedly one day will (Morneau Avenue, anyone?) and the Canadians and Venezuelans who were almost as plentiful as the Minnesotans and Alabamans and the balls lost in the roof and the ones that bounced off the infield turf and turned into doubles and 60,000 screaming fans who made it almost impossible to hear:

There is NO SMOKING in the METRODOME!!!


Goodbye and we will miss you.


Sniffle.



---
http://irregulargiggling.blogspot.com

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Gobble gobble glurk

So I'm actually on my way between stats class and transcribing interviews and when I told the project manager that my class is scheduled to end at 12:15 and usually goes a little late so there was no way I was making a noon interview, but I'd transcribe the 1pm, 2pm and 3pm ones, she was all "oh, ok so you'll be there around 12:20 or so?" And I go "Not unless you want angry Antelope who will eat your arm off, because I also woke up late this morning and so went for a run but had no breakfast, so that P,B and J and banana and granola bar are the only things standing between me and a total freak out" and I think she understood, so I'm here in my office wolfing that down and preparing to type like a furious bunny for the next three hours.

Preparing by typing nonsense here about how really and truly and amazingly awesome last night was, what with the Twins taking a tie game into the 12th inning, resulting in double high fives and chest bumps in public, at least between Houseboy and me, but also resulting in a playoff game against the Yankees on less than 20 hours rest and also my laptop bag reeking of cigarette smoke because we don't have cable and Nashville doesn't have a smoking ban. And all of this awesomeness persists despite the most ragingly sexist person I've ever sat next to in a bar, who first asked who we were rooting for and then asked when the Twins were last in the playoffs and when they were last in a World Series, all of which I answered despite the fact that he directed the questions at Houseboy behind me and then went off about Chili Davis, which raise your hand if you're not a baseball fan and have ever heard of Chili Davis, but I have because yes I DID watch every game of the 1991 season that was on tv and remember a thing or two about even the less well-known players, but anyway, I was all ready to reminisce about Chili Davis and Greg Gagne and whoever, but he kept starting sentences and then trying to lean around me to talk to Houseboy and even insisted at one point that I get Houseboy's attention so that he could ask about the Jack Morris shutout in Game 7 as if I couldn't possibly relate to that level of in depth analysis which was that it was "awesome."

But I'm not bitter. Because my team is in the playoffs. And he's still a Cubs fan.


---





Tuesday, October 6, 2009

There are at least 30 minutes left in the season

Probably more like 3 hours and 30 minutes because I guess they can't play the actual 163rd game of the baseball season in negative five minutes, but the point remains the same, which is that playing a one-game playoff for the division for the SECOND YEAR IN A ROW is.... awesome? I guess? I mean, I kinda wish that instead they had just not sucked any number of the times that they sucked and we could have run away with the division, but at least they stopped sucking in just enough time to make it painful for the Tigers.

I'm talking about baseball by the way. The Minnesota Twins. You can avert your eyes if you're one of my apocryphal friends who "doesn't like baseball." Actually, you all can go look up the word apocryphal probably. It will be like a little exercise in existentialism to see if my apocryphal friends can find the definition of apocryphal. God, that's a fun word to type. Also, I like the way it tastes.

What was I saying? Oh, right... I was so excited last night for the game that I went wandering around the house in my sleep, and I had a very good explanation for what I was doing when asked: "Standing up, walking out to this room and walking here. Now I have to go to the bathroom." I hope Houseboy appreciates that I'm becoming more detail-oriented while sleeping at least.

Go TWINS!


----




Monday, October 5, 2009

No candy here, buddy

I got my first phone call in my office the other day while eating pizza, watching the Twins tie up the division and creating a program in R to calculate A union B minus C complement, which I imagine will come in handy some day and also made me happy that my office mate apparently is actually the Easter Bunny so she wasn't going to be walking in on that hot mess.

Anyway, what was first most surprising about this phone call was that there is a phone in my office. It makes a noise something like one of those Alexander Graham Bell box and crank jobbies, but actually looks like an 80's switchboard phone, with the lights that light up for different lines and all, which I discovered after I stood up on my desk chair and hauled it down off the top shelf. I picked up the line and said, "Corporate Accounts Payable, Nina speaking"* and the guy on the other end says to me "Hi, I have a question about my candy order..."

So, I go "Ummmmm. Yeah. Wrong number buddy," only nicer. All of a sudden he sounds really sad and says, "This isn't WebCandy?" And I go "That's a thing? No, this is... Vanderbilt sort of." Even sadder, he says "Ohhhhh. I guess I must have mixed up the numbers," and then he hangs up.

And even pizza and a Twins win couldn't cheer me up from the poor fellow's candy depression.

On the other hand, knowing that I work in a surrealist Norman Rockwell painting helped.




---
* Or, you know, just my name in a kind of confused voice.


http://irregulargiggling.blogspot.com

Friday, June 5, 2009

Kinder, gentler, boringer

Sometimes, when I get up early-ish and go for a run in the morning, and then have peanut butter toast and tea for breakfast, and wear my nice-ish jeans and a white button-down shirt to work, and accomplish actual worthwhile things before 10 o'clock in the morning, I feel like a nice person.  I feel like maybe it's sunny outside, and my hair is being adequately tamed by only two barrettes, and there are not boogers hanging out of my nose, and humanity in general is not a stinking cesspool of muck.

This makes for bad blogging.  Good blogging comes from pain.  Or, more accurately, whiny discomfort and itchiness.

Check in with me again on Monday, when I will most likely have encountered Slow People on the Sidewalk or Guy Who Chews with His Mouth Open, and I'll have more to say.


---
P.S. The word "boringer" makes me think of Juan Berenguer, who I thought pronounced his name "BEAR-in-grr," but if recent used car commercials are to be believed, it's more like "BEAR-en-GAIR." 


Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Things to Do Before I'm 30: The Impossible List

I never actually made one of these lists before I turned 30, and in fact I never thought 30 was such a bad thing to turn, so I haven't been on the ball with getting nervous and angsty and upset about my birthday.  Now that it happened, though, I figure I should act my age and have some kind of crisis over the things I meant to accomplish.  So here's a list I came up with after the fact, of things I will now feel bad about not having done already.

1.  Swim with the dolphins.  I wanted to do this when I was a kid, but my mom said it was too expensive, and besides, don't you think the dolphins deserve to be left alone?  Before I was 30 I could have ignored her, but now I'm too old anyway because it's a well-known fact that dolphins attack old people.

2.  Become a gymnast.  Somewhere around puberty I discovered that I have no hand-eye coordination and terrible balance.  I should have worked on that more.

3.  Commit the perfect murder.  I have it all planned out.  Maybe I can still do this one.

4.  Wear rubber leggings to a club and start one of those dances where everyone circles around you because you're so awesome and you teach them a new move and everyone buys you things because you're so cool.



5.  Seven hotdogs and seven beers in seven innings.  You heard me.

6.  Get on the Late Show with David Letterman.  Because that man is sexy with a capital SEX.



7.  Be the first woman to... whatever.  First, I wanted to be president until I found out that presidents are boring.  Then I wanted to be the first female Major Leaguer.  See #2.

8.  Learn to make a souffle.  Have it comically deflate.  Sit on the floor of my kitchen and cry.

9.  Beat Houseboy in Trivial Pursuit.  The synapses are only getting less firey with age, not more. 

10.  Raise a pig for the slaughter, but at the last minute change my mind and go on a long road trip with it that ends in tragedy when he dies of pig old age.  

...

Friday, August 22, 2008

Remember that one time I had a blog?

Ironic that my last blog was about the end of the world. Were you worried about me? Did you think that my world ended on October 24, 2007? That would be confusing for you, since your world didn't end, and all previous evidence has pointed to us living in the same world. Tell me more about your cosmology some other time, though. Suffice to say that neither of our worlds has ended as of my writing.


Update on happenings in my world in the last 10 months:

Houseboy has cooked eggplant parmigiana, ratatouille, vegetarian paella, tofu curry (I'm back off fish), and sundry other delicacies to soothe the savage beast, or breast as the case may be.

I have seen movies, 94.73% of which were good to excellent; and I have gone on camping trips, 73.6% of which were rated "worthwhile" by the participants.

I have finished work projects, which have stalled in the editing stages above me, and engaged in a war of attrition with all members of my department. I am The Highlander. There can be only one.

I had a dream about a verdant valley filled with tiny giraffes.

I have reclaimed the dream of a Central Division Title for the Twins, and only cried a little when I saw Torii Hunter in an Angels uniform.

I have read all the way to the K's in my library, with a time-out for books bought in airports (Catcher in the Rye, Rant) and books from the McSweeney's Book Club (Maps and Legends, All Known Metal Bands, Where to Invade Next, Underground America, Arkansas).

Houseboy and I have walked to Lincoln Park for brunch, jetted to York for a wedding and popped out to DC for the fireworks. The cats are not happy with us, and I have the urine-stained traveling bag to prove it. The Fat One has altogether forgotten how to speak English and only looks at me with blank eyes and licks his lips.


Things that have not changed in the last 10 months:

I have not grown any taller, any smarter or any better at the piano.

No one has offered to sponsor me for a year in Spain to work on my Spanish and my paella-eating.

With my back to the moon I can still spit 40 feet.

Sunday, August 5, 2007

Blogs are like rabbits

If you're not careful, they'll multiply. My DC friend pulled me into a new blog, The Fourfold Root, which will contain all future installments of the Yankees versus Virtue discussions. For those of you who aren't baseball fans, this might be welcome news as it means this blog will probably be more free from baseball rantings in the future.

Friday, August 3, 2007

Why I wish Voldemort would Avada Kedavra the Yankees

Ok, so I have a friend in DC who has a coworker who is a Yankees fan. He's apparently made it his life's mission to find out why she hates the Yankees and somehow I have gotten dragged into it all. So, in response to some angry ramblings I sent her about payroll and signing bonuses, etc., he sent the following 7 points. My response follows after that.

Ok. I see the frustration here. My responses:



1. The Yankees are not solely responsible for running-up prices and causing this overall 'lack of loyalty.' I mean free agency has been in effect for over 30 years and lots of teams have thrown money around. Who gave ARod $250M? Who signed Gil Meche (Gil Meche!!) for $11M/year? Not the Yankees. Who gave Barry Zito $126M? Not the Yankees.
2. The Yankees have paid the other 29 teams $100M in luxury tax and revenue sharing money. That's over $3M on average, per team. So, they pay for their excesses more than any other franchise on the planet. What do most owners do with this money? Pocket it. Can anyone make a serious argument that owners couldn't afford to take this money and pay a draft pick an extra $500K not to go to college? Seriously?
3. Another related point on the talent developed in the farm systems.keep in mind that when these guys reach the majors they get the major league minimum salary for probably the first 5 years of their career and they become arbitration-eligible. So, knowing that you're going to pay the kids chicken feed for a while, why not spend a bit more to ensure they sign with you after the draft? Penny-wise and pound-foolish if you ask me.
4. Most owners operate teams solely to make money. Now, I understand that it's important to make money on your investment. That's fine. But, most owners refuse to understand that the best way to make money, in the LONG TERM, is to put a winning team on the field. Period. I remember when the Yankees were lucky to draw 2 million in a year. This year they'll draw 4 million. That's not because Yankee Stadium is in the best part of town, either. Steinbrenner's first goal has always been to win, which I've always appreciated. I do feel sorry for the Twins that Carl Pohlad spent probably 5 years convincing Selig to contract the team just so he could get a good deal on the team and be finished. This gets to my next point:
5. Most owners cry poverty rather than being creative. So the Yankees start the YES network-nothing more than a regional sports network. Is this business model impossible to replicate in other markets? I would seriously doubt it.
6. The Twins will be opening a new stadium in 2010. Not that I've researched it, but I'm assuming this stadium will be built largely on the generosity of the taxpayers. So, unencumbered by stadium costs, will the Twins make an investment in player salaries to put a good team on the field in 2010 to drive up attendance, merchandising, etc. and really take advantage of their new environment? Or will they continue to look to save $2M by trading all-star caliber players? At some point, I don't care if you're in MN or NY, you have to make an investment and spend money to ensure longer-term success.
7. I've said it before and I'll say it again, the fact the Yankees are richer than everyone else isn't new. It's been that way for 100 years. The Yankees still haven't won every year. So, other teams must have some way of competing with them.


So, my first response to this was an off-the cuff diatribe about what Carl Pohlad's soul probably got him on the open market and how there is an East Coast mentality that basically says "If I have the money, why not spend it?" and "Well, we're the greatest, therefore everyone must love us. There is nothing good outside of New York except maybe fall foliage." Then there's the Midwest which says "Why spend now when you can save for later?" and "Well, we're the greatest, and no one knows it, which is good because it means less traffic." You can see where this becomes a problem in any conversation of the way baseball teams are run.

The following is the longer, more carefully crafted response I came up with. If you want the actual numbers in the attachment I refer to, I can send them to you.

Ok, try this on for FACTUAL rebuttal:

While it is true that Carl Pohlad MORE than has the money to throw at the Twins if he chose to (he's a billionaire after all, and George Steinbrenner is just a lowly hundred-millionaire), I think the issue should not be how much out-of-pocket money the owner is willing to put toward the team. It should be how much they take in each year, based on their revenues from ticket and fan product sales. That will HELP toward the understanding that the Twins and the Brewers really do work in a different world. So, let me make three inter-related points:

#1. The Twins work in a smaller market, with a population with less disposable income than the Yankees.
#2. Twins tickets and merchandise are cheaper than Yankees tickets and merchandise
#3. The Twins do more with the money that they have than the Yankees do.

#2 and #3 are incontrovertibly shown in the attached document. If he argues with #1 then you just have to give up on him because he's "touched." As you can see in my table, the Twins have an average ticket price more than $10 cheaper than the Yankees. This combined with a smaller market probably explains why their annual revenue is less than half of the Yankees'. In fact, they are at exact opposite ends of the rankings in revenue: the Yankees bring in the MOST and the Twins bring in the LEAST money of any major league team.

All that said, you can also see that in 2006 the Yankees had 97 wins and the Twins had 96. That puts the Twins at 27th in payroll cost/win (ranked highest to lowest) and the Yankees once again in first. So, obviously, the Twins are somehow able to muddle through with WAAAAAY less money. Now we're getting to the crux of the issue. The market in Minnesota and surrounding states is pretty well tapped. I don't see the kids out in Souix Falls and Brainerd shelling out for a cable channel (they tried it with hockey, and if Minnesota won't pay for hockey then they certainly won't pay for baseball), nor do I think you'll get away with big ticket-price raises in the new stadium (which, by the way, will seat about 10,000 fewer fans) or $100 Santana halter tops. So, go ahead and come up with "creative" ways to make more money... all he's really saying is pass more of the cost on to the fans, and I'm saying that just won't fly in the thrifty Midwest. And it's not like we're selling a lot of caps overseas like the Yankees are.

So, we come back to the owners. I hold out hope that Pohlad will crack open that vault of his and throw a little money to us lonely beggars so that they can field a competitive team in the new stadium. However, I don't really think that's fair to him. Why should he have to pay for the mistakes of others? Because, really, I'm not mad at A-Rod. A-Rod is an all-star and I'd love to have him on my team. His salary is exorbitant, but it's not really like Jason Bartlett is going to go into contract negotiations with THAT salary in his mind. The problem is all the failures they've paid too much for. All the young kids who got those signing bonuses and never made it big. The slow and steady increase on players just out of serfdom.

I was mad when it was big names, because it made me jealous. But really, the Twins were never in that market much. They weren't bumping up payroll by acquiring veterans from other teams; they were slowly losing their own veterans to the better deal elsewhere. That was always upsetting, but usually the Twins had someone in the background who was as good, or better, and would make the minimum (Mientkiewicz becomes Morneau, Pierzynksi become Mauer, Guardado becomes Nathan... if he's been my favorite player, he's been replaced... ).

The scary thing to me now is the infiltration into those younger ages. If we can't compete for veterans, and so are destined to always be a young team, then we have to have faith that the people working in our AAA and AA and even A systems are the next Mauer. But if we can't afford the next Mauer either, because he gets a big signing bonus elsewhere, or because he knows we won't pour money all over him the first time he comes up for arbitration, then we are, as the pope would say, fucked.

And I don't blame Pohlad for not opening his purse under those conditions. "Penny wise and pound foolish" he says? Well, that may be true for some players, but when they are that young you can hardly KNOW that... if you have $200 million to throw around, you can afford to hand out signing bonuses to every kid you get that tingly feeling about, and you can give your feisty whelp with 3 years service time 5 million dollars in the hopes that he'll remain worth it. But when your market only brings in $2 million to the Yankees $4 million, you might not be able to just go on faith like that. And honestly, Midwestern values back in action, I don't think you SHOULD.

Oh, and just to throw it out there, the real reason I hate the Yankees is because they assume I love them. I hate New York and I hate LA because they think they're better than the Midwest and they expect us to agree. The Yankees are NOT "America's Team." The very thought sickens me.

The Houseboy as well as my Washington friend have been crafting their responses as well, so check back here for updates.

Monday, July 2, 2007

Final All-Star Push

So Pat Neshek is on the final "Monster 2007 All-Star Ballot" and he needs your votes. He throws side-arm, which is neat. Can you throw side-arm? I didn't think so. So, vote for him. I also recommend Webb on the NL side. He's a sinker-baller, and that is almost as neat as a side-armer. Can you throw a sinker? Yeah right. Throwing a 60-mile an hour pitch that "sinks" because it barely makes it to the plate doesn't count. So, click on the link above, then on "Cast Your Final Vote." Then, you know, cast it. Because you all pretty much owe me for f-ing this up.

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Relationships are Hard Work

So, Houseboy and I had a major knock-down drag out fight last night and let me just tell you he's lucky to be alive today. Despite the glory of soon-to-be-3-time-Cy-Young-winner Johan Santana's triple against the Mets, Morneau's coughing-up-blood plate collision and Mauer's two homeruns on Sunday, I am a little miffed with my beloved baseball this muggy day.

Last night, with little ceremony, they crossed a line in the sand and they (along with their defender, Houseboy), owe me a big apology. I didn't even see it coming. There we are, top of the first, ready for a thrilling victory over the Blue Jays. Vernon Wells doubles, but Alex Rios grounds out. I'm calmly thinking how nice a strikeout or short fly ball will be... how they can easily make an out without that runner advancing... suddenly, Matt "Fatt" Stairs pops one up nice and pretty in foul territory. Little Nicky Punto runs his brains out and catches it while falling lovingly into Luis "King of the Elves" Rodriguez's arms in the dugout. How nice! An out recorded with no deleterious side effects! But what is this? What is Bert saying about the first enactment of some new rule? WHY is Wells just trotting over to third? Why is he doing so in response to the beckoning of that evil, cheating umpire?

With a great deal of googling I was finally able to find an explanation. A February 2007 update to the rules that I was not aware of:

FIELDER ISSUES 18. Catching ball in dugout

6.05

A batter is out when --
(a) His fair or foul fly ball (other than a foul tip) is legally caught by a fielder;
Rule 6.05(a) Comment: A fielder may reach into, but not step into, a dugout to make a catch, and if he holds the ball, the catch shall be allowed. A fielder, in order to make a catch on a foul ball nearing a dugout or other out-of-play area (such as the stands), must have one or both feet on or over the playing surface (including the lip of the dugout) and neither foot on the ground inside the dugout or in any other out-of-play area. Ball is in play, unless the fielder, after making a legal catch, falls into a dugout or other out-of-play area, in which case the ball is dead. Status of runners shall be as described in Rule 7.04(c) Comment.


Just so you know, that "status of runners" allows them to advance one base. It is my understanding that this change is the result of the incident last year where Ryan Freel, in following a foul ball into the stands, basically shivved some old lady. That probably really sucked for her, but I still don't like this rule. Mostly, because if you watch the video of the Punto catch, you'll see that that kind of athleticism just deserves reward. He even manages to get that good BestBuy product placement in.


But also because, in my heart of hearts, I feel like it's a different type of rule, with different stakes, than any other rule in baseball. So, if you're Little Nicky, and you see that ball traveling rapidly toward your comrade-in-shortness Elrond in the dugout, and you realize you might not be able to record that out without allowing your little toes over that line, what do you do? Well, on the one hand, you could let it drop and hope your pitcher has another strike or two in him... or another easy out to provide you with. Maybe you join the mound conference and ask him to ignore DIPS theory for just a moment and furnish you with a foul ball just a few feet further west (or east? I'm not sure on that). OR, you can record that out, allowing the base runner to advance. In what other situation do you have that kind of choice? In a sacrifice fly, but in that case at least the runner has to actually do the running... you theoretically COULD throw them out. Same on a long foul ball. The offense actually has to do the work of moving forward on you, weighing for themselves the likelihood that you can throw them out. In this case, in the very ACT of catching the ball, you have given someone a base. Boooooollshit, I say.


Anyway, to address Señor Baseball Himself for a moment, you owe me an apology. Houseboy made me vegetarian tamales and took off his shirt. You're probably going to have to work a little harder than that. I MIGHT be willing to accept a 10-game winning streak from the Twins, but we'll see.

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Voting Is Your Duty

The All-Star Voting is open, and already the general idiocy of Americans and the ridiculously expansive free time of Yankees fans is becoming apparent. For this reason, I am reaching out to all of you, most of whom are not really big baseball fans, but who have the common bond of probably not wanting to see my head explode. Vote here, and PLEASE do me a favor and don't even THINK about clicking on any Yankees or Red Sox? If you are really confused, and just want the good guys to win, but you're not sure who they are, you can use my sample ballot, below. Just remember that I pay a fly's eyelash worth of attention to the National League, so some of my choices there may be a little wonky (i.e., based on the two games I've seen them play against the Twins, or their former careers in the AL). Oh, and you can vote up to 25 times on one e-mail address, so just enter your choices and keep hitting "Vote Again." Your choices are saved from the last time. America thanks you.

American League

First Base: Justin Morneau. This is absolutely a tragic joke. David Ortiz (former Twin, beloved by all Twins fans) is currently leading this position. He has played at this position for just about 3 tenths of a second. He is a DH. I'm sorry that you can't vote in a DH, but that's just too fucking bad, Red Sox. Get over it and put someone in this slot that actually fields.

Second Base: Luis Castillo. A great player. Mostly I'm voting for him because he's a Twin. But that makes him inherently superior, so if you really know nothing and have no opinions, just do as I do and vote as I vote.

Shortstop: Jason Bartlett. Not even on the leader board right now, which is really sad. He doesn't exactly have huge offensive power, but I'm pretty sure he actually starts fielding balls BEFORE they're hit. Psychic powers or something.

Third Base: Troy Glaus. Besides looking disturbingly like a high school classmate of Houseboy's and basically ripping a giant hole in reality every time he plays against the Twins, Glaus has 268 career home runs and a .300 batting average this year. He could stand to walk a little more, but he can actually field a bit too, so that kind of evens out.

Catcher: Joe Mauer. Joe Joe the Monkey Catcher Mauer. He's a CATCHER. He won the BATTING TITLE. He's 24 years old, 6'4" and still growing. He and Morneau used to share a bachelor pad where they stayed up late playing video games and eating Doritos and Mountain Dew and making prank calls. He's slowly teaching Morneau the intricacies of facial expression. Look, it's just a no brainer, so stop thinking about it and vote for him.

Outfielders: I'm going to try to avoid a long tirade on the ridiculosity of lumping three positions into one as if putting your left fielder in center field for a game wouldn't just make the Metrodome cave in on your head, and give you my picks.

Michael Cuddyer. As Bert Blyleven said during an interleague game a little while back: "WHY do they keep RUNNING on Michael CUDDYER?!!?!?!!!" He has a cannon. And it has a laser sight. And if you try to squeeze an extra base out of that weak little right field hit, you're going to be very, very sorry. Oh, and he recently explained the intricacies of playing balls off the Hefty Bag, and it actually made sense. This was either a well-guarded secret of Twins outfielders, or he's the first one to actually figure it out logically.

Torii Hunter. Please. If you make me explain this I will actually scream. HE. CAN. FLY. LITERALLY.

Shannon Stewart. Former Twin, former member of the "Soul Patrol." Came in to numerous (including my own) cries against wasting money on a mid-season replacement that we'd never be able to keep. Stayed for another 3 seasons and made us cry when he had to go. Never had a nickname except: "SHANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!!!"

National League:

Prince Fielder, Orlando Hudson (O.Hud!), Cristian Guzman (GUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUZ), Craig Counsell, Benjie Molina (I like him, ok?), Alfonso Soriano (big surprise), Ken Griffey, Jr. and Jacque (not JOCK) Jones.

Ok, so get to voting!

Monday, June 11, 2007

Top 10 Dugout Chats

So, one time, I wrote this blog about how much I liked a certain dugout chat about Mr. Alfonso Soriano. Now, the site has actually personally requested that I make a list of my favorite chats! You can see the personal request right on their front page. It doesn't mention me by name, but you can see the little hints that it's really meant only for me. Anyway, I'm not one to ignore a general request from someone I've never met, so here's my list:

10. Jim Thome sings about the Twins Obviously, I have my predilections toward certain teams. Particularly the best team in baseball in the whole entire universe. I also appreciate the characterization of the legendary Twins-killer on this site as essentially a butterfly-chasing four-year-old. It makes me giggle.

9. The Straight Man Chatroom, Part 1 and Part 2 These really can't be separated, though the second one has most of the punchline. Somehow, the A-Rod and Derek Jeter are gay lovers joke never really gets old for me.

8. Josh Papelbon Gets Drafted Jon Papelbon is slightly more intelligent than Jim Thome on this site. Though only slightly. Also, "/tomfoolery" might be the funniest one line I've ever seen.

7. Who is Your Tiger? I remember watching the Tigers play in 2003 and seeing poor Dmitri Young running around trying to play all 9 positions and slowly, slowly having his spirit crushed by the utter incompetence and disinterest of his teammates. This chat is ushering a new era. Or something.

6. A Jeep Thing Again, Jim Thome is like a giant, adorable, home-run-smashing, dream-crushing teddy bear. With footy jams.

5. Yor on defense Jon Papelbon outsmarts Kyle Farnsworth. Golden.

4. Pete Rose Stains the Game This is really a series of chats, all of which have the same joke. This is my favorite, but here's a runner up, featuring Stain'd

3. Kirby He has a space on my couch anytime. Though it might be kind of weird for him to come back to life just to stay on a futon in Hyde Park. I wouldn't ask questions, though.

2. The Twins Rule Everyone else drools. But no one knows it. More people should know it. But not so many that I'll start seeing hipster doofuses (doofai?) wearing Twins gear. As Slug says "It sucks that you think where I'm from is whack, but as long as thats enough to keep your ass from comin back"

1. You Saw This Coming Alfonso Soriano. Frank Robinson. Confusion. Buying 20,000 second base bags. It doesn't get any better.

Monday, May 7, 2007

I have been remiss

So, those "in the know" tell me that one is supposed to blog more often than once every few whenever I feel likes its. I'm not sure WHY this is, or what exactly it would accomplish for me, but I can only assume that there are secret prizes lurking in the wings for best posting average (rate stat) or largest number of posts (counting stat). Blogger's Prospectus is of course coming up with new ways of measuring who is the best poster all the time, like VORB (Value Over Replacement Blogger).

Anyway, all statistics/baseball joking aside (*audience sighs*), there WAS a Houseboy meal recently that I neglected to record for the annals of time (read: until the Pulse wipes out technology or I erase my blogger account). So, this particular meal was cooked... say, Thursday, and it was pepper-crusted salmon, asparagus and Houseboy's first crack at mini Mexican chocolate souffles (soufflai? soufflora?). I have to say, I was a little disappointed that there wasn't a comical deflation of of the soufflè, but got over it quickly and enjoyed my delicious muffin full of air (I'd never had a souffle before, and that's the best description I can come up with). I took a picture of the empty container, but Houseboy is not as interested in downloading pictures and e-mailing them to me as he is in cooking for me, for some reason.

Anyway, I was able to bring some leftovers to work for the advancement of my bragging career, but no leftover soufflè, so I don't have much hope for the Superstar award this month (not that the scones won it for me LAST month anyway... apparently some people really hold a grudge when you fill their keyboard with superglue).

Ok, so outside of following a good friend around on a self-declared bender this weekend (resulting an out-of-town friend wandering through Cabrini Green alone and an acquaintance being thrown out of the beautifully named "Joe's on Weed" for punching a wall), not much is new in the world in or around me.

Tuesday, April 3, 2007

Torii Hunter's a big copycat

Last night was Twins opening night, so of course Houseboy did a reprise of the afore-blogged-about mac and cheese and invited over our ex-roommate/Catholic convert to watch it on the real TV... this was one of the two Twins games that will probably be televised on ESPN this year since winning their division 4 out of the last 5 years, having last year's Cy Young, MVP and batting champion winners and being all-around upstanding citizens does not make them worth watching according to the Secret Tribunal of Sports Importance. I'm sure there will be more on this the first time I see NASCAR on during a baseball game.

Anyway, Houseboy had Jason "Bartles and Jason" Bartlett as his "pick to do really good tonight," Roomie had Justin "Island of Dr." Morneau, and I had Torii "Can't Pick Him as My Favorite Player Because Then He'll Leave or Get Traded" Hunter. Things started off in Roomie's favor, as the Doctor hit a clutch second inning homerun. Dusty Baker was guest-commentating and he actually used the word "clutch" to refer to scoring the first run of the game. However, not to be outdone, Torii "Should Have Gotten Credit for, Like, 50 Homeruns Last Year If You Count the Ones He Stole From the Other Team" Hunter came up next and did the same damn thing.

Neck and neck in the "I'm smart and picked a good player to do well in this game" race, Roomie and I were on the edges of our seats for the next appearance of our picks. Morneau hit a liner down right center and got erroneously called out at second. Torii winked in my direction and then knocked out basically THE SAME HIT and pulled in safely to second, assuring my victory. A lot more stuff happened that wasn't nearly as interesting and then the Twins won 7 to 4.

Also, poor Soriano suffers on in the dugout chats:

http://dugout.progressiveboink.com/archive/jon108.html

And I saw the Sun Times headline this morning about the Cubs escaping the "Evil Grasp" of the Tribune... or somesuch. Anyone have $600 Million I can borrow?

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

I love to hate Alfonso Soriano

Since he's pretty much exactly the kind of player I love: small (ish), athletic, fast... OBP in the 300's, slugging in the 500s.... yet for some perverse reason he always chooses to play for teams I hate: the Yankees, the Rangers (now known as the Texiera Rangers), the Nationals, and now the Cubs (though for once he chose the team I hate LESS in the region).

Anyway, that's all lead-up to this dugout chat from last year's spring training, which is currently in my top 5 funniest things I've ever read.

http://dugout.progressiveboink.com/archive/jon22.html

Enjoy!