The guy's basically unhittable right now. 3-0 Detroit in the bottom of the 6th, and he's thrown 98 pitches, so he's good for at least one more inning. For the good guys, CC has 56 pitches through 5 innings. This has complete game loss written all over it.
Phooey.
-Here's a story about a 22 year-old Haitian who pretended to be 16 so he could play high school basketball. Surprisingly, the Texas high school (an athletic powerhouse) didn't fully check his credentials during their state playoff run.
-The Duke Athletic Department makes 71 million dollars in revenue each year, good for 25th overall. You can read the article here, and the list is on page 2. Texas is #1 with $138 million in revenue. In an interesting coincidence, this list was compiled for Sports Illustrated by a 16 year-old Haitian Pulitzer Prize winner.
-The Devils were the only Final Four team not to make some kind of weird NCAA academic progress rate all-star list. Apparently Michigan State and West Virginia are smarter than us. This doesn't upset me; it's hard to compete academically against a team run by Bob Huggins. I've heard he still gives Kenyon Martin random late-night calls to quiz him on geography and physics.
(Thanks to Emily, Patricia, and Mike for the links)
-Here's a blog and tumblr my friend Spike made about Derek Jeter hating Jewish people. Pretty convincing, I must say. And Spike is Jewish himself, so he can identify the look.
Meanwhile, it's 6-0 Tigers and we're about to drop 3 of 4 in Motown. This series can't end fast enough. Unfortunately, Minnesota is next. And then Boston. And then Tampa. Then the Mets. The Minnesota again. Seriously, do we ever play Kansas City?
Cavs-Celts tonight. See you tomorrow.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Morning: What's Your Name? Hughes Your Daddy? Can He Pitch Like Me?
I totally stole that title from the "sig" of this dude on a message board. I think it's the greatest thing ever:
It's so good that if this was Europe, people would probably sing that at games, and it would be spectacular. The reference: it's adapted from the '60s tune "Time of the Season" by The Zombies. Picture an entire stadium singing it to serenade Hughes when he walked to the mound from the bullpen at the beginning of the game; it would be the greatest moment in professional sports history.
Last night, Hughes struck out 8 over 7 scoreless innings, and earned his league-leading 5th win. He's also the current American League ERA king. Basically, the question mark after his name has become an exclamation point, and he's achieved early season 'stud' status. He might ride this wave ride right into the All-Star game, and it's his first season as a full-time starter. To quote another '60s song, "happiness is a warm gun."
That last sentence only kind of makes sense. But it feels right. Just like this next sentence. There's a flower for every occasion, son, but only two men have touched the moon.
Before we get on to other business, a thank you to Nick for covering my ass yesterday with a Duke offseason report. Meeting the girlfriend's parents went well, her graduation went well (though it was bittersweet; her high school career just flew), and the parents-meeting-the-parents spectacle ended with minimal hard feelings, I think. But all was happy in blog land due to Nick's good work. My weakness as a fan is that I don't expend much energy following a team when they're not playing games, and it's nice to have someone fill that commitment gap.
Two quick Yankee things:
1)The three-game nightmare stretch (AJ in Fenway, Sergio Mitre pitching, Vazquez pitching) ended as expected with three straight losses. But Javy surprised everyone a bit in the first half of yesterday's doubleheader, going 7 full innings and giving up just 2 runs. It's by far his best outing of the season. Unfortunately, his average fastball was still just 89mph, topping out at 91, so until I see this result replicated two to three times, I'm going to assume he got a little lucky. Or that his new strategy is pitching to contact (only 2 walks). Mysteriously, he managed 7 swinging strikeouts. I'm not sure how that happens without a good fastball, but I guess I'll take it.
2)Apparently Yanks announcer Michael Kay is reading this blog (#5). In his latest radio show, he said the following:
Thanks to Justin for the quote. And let me be the first to admit that this solution is glaringly obvious and didn't require deep thinking to conceive. The big problem is that Jorge has a lot of pride, and a lot of influence as a 16-year vet. He won't like it one bit. But for God's sake: Cervelling is batting .750 with runners in scoring position (9-12)! He's hitting .408 overall! He's about 50 times better as a defensive catcher! Don't bench him for Randy Winn or Marcus Thames, please. You can only defer so much as a manager, and it's worth a little Posada pouting to keep this offense from devolving into total crap.
On to other sports:
*The Boston Friggin' Celtics won Game 5 on Tuesday. That's pretty crazy. I didn't get to see the game, but how is this happening to Lebron and Cleveland? Bill Simmons provides some clue in his excellent retro-diary on ESPN. He's hinting that it might be "the end of pro basketball" in Cleveland, and he takes Lebron to task for disappearing in one of the biggest playoff games of his life. Soemthing about Lebron has always rubbed me the wrong way; he's a little too entitled, or something. And this seems to cement that arrogance, that inability to come down from the Nike pedestal and grind it out when things get tough.
But the Celtics are made for the grind. As much as I hate Garnett, he deserves a lot of credit for stepping up. So does Pierce, for emerging in Game 5 after earlier struggles. Ray Allen was specifically created to be a clutch shooter, and Rajon Rondo is one of the more exciting dudes in the NBA. That's a team of warriors. My friend Brian claimed they had a shot to beat Cleveland before this series started, and I scoffed. But there they are, with a chance to clinch at home in game 6. And the best regular season team is handicapped by a shitty coach and a vague elbow affliction that Lebron is subtly trying to use as an excuse for a series of stink bombs.
Good.
*The Philadelphia Flyers have come back from a 3-0 deficit to force game 7 against the Bruins. I'm not known around the streets and cafes as a dude of hockey, but on Friday night, Philly has a chance for something historic. In the history of American professional sports, a team has overcome a 3-0 deficit in a best-of-7 series just three times.
It's never happened in the NBA. The Nuggets are the only team to even force a game 7, against the Jazz in '94, but they lost. This makes sense, since basketball is less prone to streaky elements like a great goalie or strong pitching, and luck plays a smaller part than any other sport. If a team goes up 3-0, it's a pretty safe bet that they're way better and won't lose.
In the NHL, the Maple Leafs pulled it off in 1942, and the Islanders followed suit in 1975. It happened once in baseball, too, but I can't remember when. Anyway, it'll be worth keeping one eye on the hockey come Friday.
*Hey Sid Crosby, we haven't forgotten the Olympics, you smirking goon! Haha! Vive Le Habs! (Hmmm, praising a Canadian team for beating a US team and thereby avenging Team USA's loss to Canada...I hate irony. Quick, a picture!)
It's so good that if this was Europe, people would probably sing that at games, and it would be spectacular. The reference: it's adapted from the '60s tune "Time of the Season" by The Zombies. Picture an entire stadium singing it to serenade Hughes when he walked to the mound from the bullpen at the beginning of the game; it would be the greatest moment in professional sports history.
Last night, Hughes struck out 8 over 7 scoreless innings, and earned his league-leading 5th win. He's also the current American League ERA king. Basically, the question mark after his name has become an exclamation point, and he's achieved early season 'stud' status. He might ride this wave ride right into the All-Star game, and it's his first season as a full-time starter. To quote another '60s song, "happiness is a warm gun."
That last sentence only kind of makes sense. But it feels right. Just like this next sentence. There's a flower for every occasion, son, but only two men have touched the moon.
Before we get on to other business, a thank you to Nick for covering my ass yesterday with a Duke offseason report. Meeting the girlfriend's parents went well, her graduation went well (though it was bittersweet; her high school career just flew), and the parents-meeting-the-parents spectacle ended with minimal hard feelings, I think. But all was happy in blog land due to Nick's good work. My weakness as a fan is that I don't expend much energy following a team when they're not playing games, and it's nice to have someone fill that commitment gap.
Two quick Yankee things:
1)The three-game nightmare stretch (AJ in Fenway, Sergio Mitre pitching, Vazquez pitching) ended as expected with three straight losses. But Javy surprised everyone a bit in the first half of yesterday's doubleheader, going 7 full innings and giving up just 2 runs. It's by far his best outing of the season. Unfortunately, his average fastball was still just 89mph, topping out at 91, so until I see this result replicated two to three times, I'm going to assume he got a little lucky. Or that his new strategy is pitching to contact (only 2 walks). Mysteriously, he managed 7 swinging strikeouts. I'm not sure how that happens without a good fastball, but I guess I'll take it.
2)Apparently Yanks announcer Michael Kay is reading this blog (#5). In his latest radio show, he said the following:
"No one wants to hear it, but with Granderson and Johnson on the DL, the Yankees have a mediocre National League lineup... Strong at the top and very weak at the bottom. The only way to balance that is to make Cervelli the 5 game a week starting catcher and make Posada the full-time DH. I know that will not be popular in Jorge Posadas world, but Girardi isn't paid to make popular decisions. Let's see what he does. Its a simple solution for the short term until the DL is cleared."
Thanks to Justin for the quote. And let me be the first to admit that this solution is glaringly obvious and didn't require deep thinking to conceive. The big problem is that Jorge has a lot of pride, and a lot of influence as a 16-year vet. He won't like it one bit. But for God's sake: Cervelling is batting .750 with runners in scoring position (9-12)! He's hitting .408 overall! He's about 50 times better as a defensive catcher! Don't bench him for Randy Winn or Marcus Thames, please. You can only defer so much as a manager, and it's worth a little Posada pouting to keep this offense from devolving into total crap.
On to other sports:
*The Boston Friggin' Celtics won Game 5 on Tuesday. That's pretty crazy. I didn't get to see the game, but how is this happening to Lebron and Cleveland? Bill Simmons provides some clue in his excellent retro-diary on ESPN. He's hinting that it might be "the end of pro basketball" in Cleveland, and he takes Lebron to task for disappearing in one of the biggest playoff games of his life. Soemthing about Lebron has always rubbed me the wrong way; he's a little too entitled, or something. And this seems to cement that arrogance, that inability to come down from the Nike pedestal and grind it out when things get tough.
But the Celtics are made for the grind. As much as I hate Garnett, he deserves a lot of credit for stepping up. So does Pierce, for emerging in Game 5 after earlier struggles. Ray Allen was specifically created to be a clutch shooter, and Rajon Rondo is one of the more exciting dudes in the NBA. That's a team of warriors. My friend Brian claimed they had a shot to beat Cleveland before this series started, and I scoffed. But there they are, with a chance to clinch at home in game 6. And the best regular season team is handicapped by a shitty coach and a vague elbow affliction that Lebron is subtly trying to use as an excuse for a series of stink bombs.
Good.
*The Philadelphia Flyers have come back from a 3-0 deficit to force game 7 against the Bruins. I'm not known around the streets and cafes as a dude of hockey, but on Friday night, Philly has a chance for something historic. In the history of American professional sports, a team has overcome a 3-0 deficit in a best-of-7 series just three times.
It's never happened in the NBA. The Nuggets are the only team to even force a game 7, against the Jazz in '94, but they lost. This makes sense, since basketball is less prone to streaky elements like a great goalie or strong pitching, and luck plays a smaller part than any other sport. If a team goes up 3-0, it's a pretty safe bet that they're way better and won't lose.
In the NHL, the Maple Leafs pulled it off in 1942, and the Islanders followed suit in 1975. It happened once in baseball, too, but I can't remember when. Anyway, it'll be worth keeping one eye on the hockey come Friday.
*Hey Sid Crosby, we haven't forgotten the Olympics, you smirking goon! Haha! Vive Le Habs! (Hmmm, praising a Canadian team for beating a US team and thereby avenging Team USA's loss to Canada...I hate irony. Quick, a picture!)
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Morning: The Duke Offseason Report
Today, friend-of-the-blog Nick is taking over to regale us with an official* Duke basketball offseason report.
*Certified by an actual Duke in Shropshire, England.
Here's a list of Nick's greatest hits on SCSD!
-Duke is the best team in the NBA
-The Roy Williams take-down
-The 'Zombie Singler' Theorem
-Duke-WVU Final Four Preview
They've all been awesome, and so is this. Enjoy!
When you think of May, what’s the first thing that pops into your head? College basketball, of course! Let’s see how the Blue Devils’ offseason is going.
With all the draft speculation cleared up and the final recruit rankings in, now might be a good time to check out how our roster stacks up next year. The Duke literati currently project the following starting lineup:
Holding the point will be the highest rated PG recruit in the nation and the best PG Duke has had since Jason Williams. Kyrie Irving comes in holding MVP co-honors from the Jordan Classic game and a sick baseline to baseline game. Watching him and thinking about our lineups makes me believe he’ll finally be able to lead us back to the promised land of fast-tempo dunkdom. Witness the 28-second mark (or the entire video):
The 2 and 3 spots will almost certainly be the core from last year’s team, Nolan Smith and Kyle Singler. No surprises here, just established awesomeness and a solid chance of at least one of these guys pulling down NPOY honors.
Holding down the 4 and 5 will be the Brothers Plumtree. The younger Plumlee will be especially fun to watch this year. He got hurt in the offseason last year, which is devastating for a freshman trying to get acclimated to NCAA play. I really look forward to seeing his progress, especially considering he has the talent to be a projected 2011 lottery pick.
Our Savior Seth Curry will be coming off the bench for heavy minutes at the 1 and 2. Some have suggested playing a three-guard lineup with him, but that means someone 6’ 2” would have to guard our oppositions SF, which is why a lot of people think Miles Plumlee will start ahead of Curry. What I don’t doubt is that he will get his time.
(Editor's Note: the opinions of Nick do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the Seth Curry Saves Duke! organization.)
Other incoming guys:
Carrick Felix is a monster athlete (dunk from the foul line, anyone?) and JuCo transfer. He has a really great story here. Clearly a high character guy and will be a good practice matchup/backup for Singler at the 3. With an older, more developed body we’ll probably see him sooner rather than later.
Joshua Hairston is our other recruit, a solid scoring face-up 4 out of Montrose Christian. He’ll probably have to bulk up a bit, but his stock has been rising all through his senior year. He should be good enough to grab a solid 10-15 minutes in the big man rotation, along with Ryan Kelly.
Our last recruit is a Man for Others hailing from the greatest place in the world (and my own Alma Mater), Gonzaga College High School. Tyler Thornton is a top-caliber defender with great quickness and floor vision, if a bit of an unpolished handle. With so much talent at the 1 and 2 above him, he probably won’t see too many minutes as a freshman but should be a solid role player in the years to come (think Sean Dockery).
On the recruiting trail, K has already locked up two solid players in the 2011 class. Micheal Gbinije is a silky smooth 6’ 6” swingman. The other guy we’ve already snagged is a 6’9”, 255 lb bruising badass out of Mississippi. This is the first time we’ve had a real mean banger down low since...Elton Brand? An awesome pickup.
We still have two remaining targets in 2011. One is Quincy Miller, a 6'8'' 180 lb SG/SF that is one of the jewels of the class. My favorite thing about him is a post on his form spring, where strangers and douchebags can ask him questions:
Pwn’d, as the kids would say. He’s a legit funny kid (I believe on facebook he committed to ITT Tech) and should be really fun to watch. The other kid we’re hot on is Austin Rivers, a combo guard who some believe is #1 in the class. He committed to Florida as a sophomore in high school, but backed down from that commitment last year. He’s Celtics coach Doc Rivers’ son and is really fun to watch. Recruiting is always a funny business, but I believe we’ve got a solid chance of nabbing both these guys. Hopefully we’re coming back to the days when Coach K doesn’t recruit, he just selects.
In NBA news, Grant Hill pulled down the NBA Sportsmanship award. Say, what do the last 5 of 6 winners of this award have in common?
2004-5 Grant Hill
2005-6 Elton Brand
2006-7 Luol Deng
2007-8 Grant Hill
2008-9 Chauncey Billups
2009-10 Grant Hill
Scholars and gentlemen, those Duke grads.
Outside of Duke there’s been some news as well. Rumors are going around that Kentucky’s Calipari might be a one-and-done himself with a job opening up as the coach of the Bulls. He’d get to coach his former player Derrick Rose, as well as whoever Chicago can bring in with their max-deal cap space (Lebron, Bosh, and Wade are all possibilities). He told ESPN’s Andy Katz that he’s not leaving, but that’s standard fare in the college game when even whispers of leaving can devastate a recruiting class. It’s interesting to note that his prize PG Brandon Knight committed but was smart enough not to sign a letter of intent, leaving his options open if Cal bolts. I mean really, considering how slimy Calipari is does anyone think he wouldn’t go to Chicago if he got the chance?
8 miles down the road there’s some news as well, as half of UNC’s frontcourt has opted to transfer. This leaves only Tyler Zeller, who hasn’t played a full season due to injuries and John Henson, who can’t play more than 20 minutes without getting winded. Now checking into the game at center, 6’ 6” Will Graves everyone! No really. He’s their next tallest player from last year.
Really makes you wonder about Harrison Barnes. In his only year in the NCAA, UNC’s star recruit will to have to play out of position at the 4 instead of lighting it up from the perimeter. Sorry bro!
*Certified by an actual Duke in Shropshire, England.
Here's a list of Nick's greatest hits on SCSD!
-Duke is the best team in the NBA
-The Roy Williams take-down
-The 'Zombie Singler' Theorem
-Duke-WVU Final Four Preview
They've all been awesome, and so is this. Enjoy!
THE DUKE OFFSEASON REPORT
When you think of May, what’s the first thing that pops into your head? College basketball, of course! Let’s see how the Blue Devils’ offseason is going.
With all the draft speculation cleared up and the final recruit rankings in, now might be a good time to check out how our roster stacks up next year. The Duke literati currently project the following starting lineup:
Holding the point will be the highest rated PG recruit in the nation and the best PG Duke has had since Jason Williams. Kyrie Irving comes in holding MVP co-honors from the Jordan Classic game and a sick baseline to baseline game. Watching him and thinking about our lineups makes me believe he’ll finally be able to lead us back to the promised land of fast-tempo dunkdom. Witness the 28-second mark (or the entire video):
The 2 and 3 spots will almost certainly be the core from last year’s team, Nolan Smith and Kyle Singler. No surprises here, just established awesomeness and a solid chance of at least one of these guys pulling down NPOY honors.
Holding down the 4 and 5 will be the Brothers Plumtree. The younger Plumlee will be especially fun to watch this year. He got hurt in the offseason last year, which is devastating for a freshman trying to get acclimated to NCAA play. I really look forward to seeing his progress, especially considering he has the talent to be a projected 2011 lottery pick.
Our Savior Seth Curry will be coming off the bench for heavy minutes at the 1 and 2. Some have suggested playing a three-guard lineup with him, but that means someone 6’ 2” would have to guard our oppositions SF, which is why a lot of people think Miles Plumlee will start ahead of Curry. What I don’t doubt is that he will get his time.
(Editor's Note: the opinions of Nick do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the Seth Curry Saves Duke! organization.)
Other incoming guys:
Carrick Felix is a monster athlete (dunk from the foul line, anyone?) and JuCo transfer. He has a really great story here. Clearly a high character guy and will be a good practice matchup/backup for Singler at the 3. With an older, more developed body we’ll probably see him sooner rather than later.
Joshua Hairston is our other recruit, a solid scoring face-up 4 out of Montrose Christian. He’ll probably have to bulk up a bit, but his stock has been rising all through his senior year. He should be good enough to grab a solid 10-15 minutes in the big man rotation, along with Ryan Kelly.
Our last recruit is a Man for Others hailing from the greatest place in the world (and my own Alma Mater), Gonzaga College High School. Tyler Thornton is a top-caliber defender with great quickness and floor vision, if a bit of an unpolished handle. With so much talent at the 1 and 2 above him, he probably won’t see too many minutes as a freshman but should be a solid role player in the years to come (think Sean Dockery).
On the recruiting trail, K has already locked up two solid players in the 2011 class. Micheal Gbinije is a silky smooth 6’ 6” swingman. The other guy we’ve already snagged is a 6’9”, 255 lb bruising badass out of Mississippi. This is the first time we’ve had a real mean banger down low since...Elton Brand? An awesome pickup.
We still have two remaining targets in 2011. One is Quincy Miller, a 6'8'' 180 lb SG/SF that is one of the jewels of the class. My favorite thing about him is a post on his form spring, where strangers and douchebags can ask him questions:
UK fan: I'm a UK fan and I would rather have Rakeem Christmas than u.
Qmiller: thats fine..and i would rather have a Duke fan than u
Pwn’d, as the kids would say. He’s a legit funny kid (I believe on facebook he committed to ITT Tech) and should be really fun to watch. The other kid we’re hot on is Austin Rivers, a combo guard who some believe is #1 in the class. He committed to Florida as a sophomore in high school, but backed down from that commitment last year. He’s Celtics coach Doc Rivers’ son and is really fun to watch. Recruiting is always a funny business, but I believe we’ve got a solid chance of nabbing both these guys. Hopefully we’re coming back to the days when Coach K doesn’t recruit, he just selects.
In NBA news, Grant Hill pulled down the NBA Sportsmanship award. Say, what do the last 5 of 6 winners of this award have in common?
2004-5 Grant Hill
2005-6 Elton Brand
2006-7 Luol Deng
2007-8 Grant Hill
2008-9 Chauncey Billups
2009-10 Grant Hill
Scholars and gentlemen, those Duke grads.
Outside of Duke there’s been some news as well. Rumors are going around that Kentucky’s Calipari might be a one-and-done himself with a job opening up as the coach of the Bulls. He’d get to coach his former player Derrick Rose, as well as whoever Chicago can bring in with their max-deal cap space (Lebron, Bosh, and Wade are all possibilities). He told ESPN’s Andy Katz that he’s not leaving, but that’s standard fare in the college game when even whispers of leaving can devastate a recruiting class. It’s interesting to note that his prize PG Brandon Knight committed but was smart enough not to sign a letter of intent, leaving his options open if Cal bolts. I mean really, considering how slimy Calipari is does anyone think he wouldn’t go to Chicago if he got the chance?
8 miles down the road there’s some news as well, as half of UNC’s frontcourt has opted to transfer. This leaves only Tyler Zeller, who hasn’t played a full season due to injuries and John Henson, who can’t play more than 20 minutes without getting winded. Now checking into the game at center, 6’ 6” Will Graves everyone! No really. He’s their next tallest player from last year.
Really makes you wonder about Harrison Barnes. In his only year in the NCAA, UNC’s star recruit will to have to play out of position at the 4 instead of lighting it up from the perimeter. Sorry bro!
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Meeting the GF's Parents Tonight...
I didn't even choose these pictures; I just hooked my head up to Google via some jumper cables, and this is what came out.
Actually, it should be fun, but it means I'll be gone tomorrow for my girlfriend's graduation at Yankee Stadium. In my absence, our old pal Nick will be filling in with a thorough Duke bball offseason report. I promise it will be tasty. Until Thursday, enjoy Yanks-Tigers and Cavs-Celtics. Time to think positive...
Morning: 3 Days of Hell
1) Should have seen this coming...
Day 1, Sunday: AJ pitching in Fenway, where he's always terrible.
Day 2, Monday: Sergio Mitre taking Andy Pettitte's start in Detroit.
Day 3, Tuesday: Javy Vazquez. Enough said.
It lined up nicely for our first 3-loss stretch of the season, and we're now 2/3 of the way there. Ugly baseball by Yankee standards.
2) Robbie on the Slide
After peaking at .407 on April 29th and finishing the month at .400, he's 8 for his last 34, batting .235 for May with only two extra base hits. These slumps are gonna happen, but it'd be nice if they didn't happen right when Teixeira and A-Rod are heating up in front of him. The clutch-birds are about to start chattering, too: he's .267 with 2 outs and runners in scoring position, a traditional weak point. The sample size is still small at 18 plate appearances, but it can grow in a hurry. He may be on the cusp of emerging from the slump, with 4 singles in the last 3 games, but it'd be nice to see him drive the ball again.
3) Boone Logan stinks
I don't care if he can hit 97. Send him down, Joe. 11 baserunners in 5 innings of action does not a professional pitcher make. And the four-pitch walks are starting to drive me really crazy.
4) We Need Grandy
Randy Winn and Marcus Thames are absolutely awful in left field. You might has well just have Gardner stand in left-center and cover both fields. Thames is useful as a DH against lefties, but should never be allowed to wear a glove, and Winn should be on the first bus to Little Rock, or wherever the Yanks keep their sub-single-A minor league franchise. Granderson going down kills our outfield defense. Swisher and the left field platoon have no range, and Gardner is all by himself in center.
Also, Winn had a chance to take out Victor Martinez on a play at the plate Saturday, and instead made a weak-ass slide and was tagged out. And something about the way he looks makes me angry. I can't explain it, but see if you agree:
5) Cervelli needs to be catcher until he goes cold
That way, Posada can DH, save his legs, and contribue with the bat. And we'll actually have a chance to throw a baserunner out once in a while.
Okay, enough Yankee stuff. Miguel Cabrera will hit 4 home runs tonight and we'll lose 11-8. Then it's Hughes time and we can all relax.
On to something more important: ENGLAND BASHING. We're almost exactly one month away from...
That's a painting of Cornwallis surrendering the last time the Brits tried to mess with our shit. At the bottom of this post back in December, I promised that I'd start taking the fight to England early and often. It kinda fell by the wayside; Duke won a national title, if you hadn't heard. But it's time to get back in the saddle. Here are 10 reasons that England sucks:
1) All their people have to constantly say these clever one-liners after they make a point. Every time you meet an English dude, he's always like "Actually, I believe the last time the British had a set-to with the Yanks was in 1812." But that's not the end of it. Then they sip their tea, give you a long look, and go: "QED, I believe." And you have to sit there and let them smirk at you, because you're in their parlour room. It's maddening.
2) They don't fight fair. Everyone knows that if you get in a street tussle with an English guy, he's going to have a watch that shoots bobby pins or something. You'll have him pinned to the ground, and he'll go "I believe I don't give up," and all the sudden the buttons on his shirt spray acid on your skin.
3) They all walk with canes. But they don't even twirl them around in fancy ways like a pimp, they just totter around like a geriatric. The main cool thing in England is seeming like you're 80 years old.
4) They say things like "capital!" and "topping!" whenever a new dictionary edition comes out, and they get all short of breath at opera houses. But if something funny happens, like a person getting stuck in a tar patch or an animal walking on its hindlegs, they blush and mutter and start fiddling with their pockets.
5) They're all obsessed with stamps and the smell of tweed. It's a common rite of passage for young women to make their own 'tweed lamps' and show them off at community gatherings on St. Elspeth's Day.
6) They're so reserved and have such small penises that their locker rooms don't even have group showers. But at the same time, the men send each other roses on the 15th of every month.
7) The most beloved athlete in the country is a guy who breeds tea leaves. His name is Everett Stevenson Everett, and he stirred up controversy in 2007 when he batted his eyes at a poster of Rene Zellwegger. Some fans still have not forgiven him.
8) You can always tell who the poor people are because they can't balance a pipe on their mustache.
9) It's considered shameful to appear at masquerades or to accidentally curtsy in the presence of a Catholic.
10) The main premise of most of their comedies is that the main character thinks it's normal to drive a car backwards through town, and when the cops chase him he always thinks they're going the wrong way since the cop car is facing him, and they both start beeping at each other until the main character backs into a croquet game and the guy about to hit the ball goes "that's one way to strike a wicket!" and grins at the camera while the song "Cardigans and Daffodils" plays.
Day 1, Sunday: AJ pitching in Fenway, where he's always terrible.
Day 2, Monday: Sergio Mitre taking Andy Pettitte's start in Detroit.
Day 3, Tuesday: Javy Vazquez. Enough said.
It lined up nicely for our first 3-loss stretch of the season, and we're now 2/3 of the way there. Ugly baseball by Yankee standards.
2) Robbie on the Slide
After peaking at .407 on April 29th and finishing the month at .400, he's 8 for his last 34, batting .235 for May with only two extra base hits. These slumps are gonna happen, but it'd be nice if they didn't happen right when Teixeira and A-Rod are heating up in front of him. The clutch-birds are about to start chattering, too: he's .267 with 2 outs and runners in scoring position, a traditional weak point. The sample size is still small at 18 plate appearances, but it can grow in a hurry. He may be on the cusp of emerging from the slump, with 4 singles in the last 3 games, but it'd be nice to see him drive the ball again.
3) Boone Logan stinks
I don't care if he can hit 97. Send him down, Joe. 11 baserunners in 5 innings of action does not a professional pitcher make. And the four-pitch walks are starting to drive me really crazy.
4) We Need Grandy
Randy Winn and Marcus Thames are absolutely awful in left field. You might has well just have Gardner stand in left-center and cover both fields. Thames is useful as a DH against lefties, but should never be allowed to wear a glove, and Winn should be on the first bus to Little Rock, or wherever the Yanks keep their sub-single-A minor league franchise. Granderson going down kills our outfield defense. Swisher and the left field platoon have no range, and Gardner is all by himself in center.
Also, Winn had a chance to take out Victor Martinez on a play at the plate Saturday, and instead made a weak-ass slide and was tagged out. And something about the way he looks makes me angry. I can't explain it, but see if you agree:
5) Cervelli needs to be catcher until he goes cold
That way, Posada can DH, save his legs, and contribue with the bat. And we'll actually have a chance to throw a baserunner out once in a while.
Okay, enough Yankee stuff. Miguel Cabrera will hit 4 home runs tonight and we'll lose 11-8. Then it's Hughes time and we can all relax.
On to something more important: ENGLAND BASHING. We're almost exactly one month away from...
JUNE 12
WORLD CUP
UNITED STATES VS. ENGLAND
WORLD CUP
UNITED STATES VS. ENGLAND
That's a painting of Cornwallis surrendering the last time the Brits tried to mess with our shit. At the bottom of this post back in December, I promised that I'd start taking the fight to England early and often. It kinda fell by the wayside; Duke won a national title, if you hadn't heard. But it's time to get back in the saddle. Here are 10 reasons that England sucks:
1) All their people have to constantly say these clever one-liners after they make a point. Every time you meet an English dude, he's always like "Actually, I believe the last time the British had a set-to with the Yanks was in 1812." But that's not the end of it. Then they sip their tea, give you a long look, and go: "QED, I believe." And you have to sit there and let them smirk at you, because you're in their parlour room. It's maddening.
2) They don't fight fair. Everyone knows that if you get in a street tussle with an English guy, he's going to have a watch that shoots bobby pins or something. You'll have him pinned to the ground, and he'll go "I believe I don't give up," and all the sudden the buttons on his shirt spray acid on your skin.
3) They all walk with canes. But they don't even twirl them around in fancy ways like a pimp, they just totter around like a geriatric. The main cool thing in England is seeming like you're 80 years old.
4) They say things like "capital!" and "topping!" whenever a new dictionary edition comes out, and they get all short of breath at opera houses. But if something funny happens, like a person getting stuck in a tar patch or an animal walking on its hindlegs, they blush and mutter and start fiddling with their pockets.
5) They're all obsessed with stamps and the smell of tweed. It's a common rite of passage for young women to make their own 'tweed lamps' and show them off at community gatherings on St. Elspeth's Day.
6) They're so reserved and have such small penises that their locker rooms don't even have group showers. But at the same time, the men send each other roses on the 15th of every month.
7) The most beloved athlete in the country is a guy who breeds tea leaves. His name is Everett Stevenson Everett, and he stirred up controversy in 2007 when he batted his eyes at a poster of Rene Zellwegger. Some fans still have not forgiven him.
8) You can always tell who the poor people are because they can't balance a pipe on their mustache.
9) It's considered shameful to appear at masquerades or to accidentally curtsy in the presence of a Catholic.
10) The main premise of most of their comedies is that the main character thinks it's normal to drive a car backwards through town, and when the cops chase him he always thinks they're going the wrong way since the cop car is facing him, and they both start beeping at each other until the main character backs into a croquet game and the guy about to hit the ball goes "that's one way to strike a wicket!" and grins at the camera while the song "Cardigans and Daffodils" plays.
BEAT ENGLAND!
Monday, May 10, 2010
Two Fake Athletes, and a Real One Who Sucks
1. I have to lead off with Kenny Strasser, who also goes by K-Strass and Kenny Strassburg. He's been touring the Wisconsin morning show circuit claiming to be a yo-yo champion who visits schools to teach kids about "going green" in a fun way.
I'm going to spoil the surprise: it's a hoax. But what a friggin' hoax. I hope it means something when I say that this article is the funniest thing I've read in a very long time. I highly recommend reading the entire thing, but here are a few of my favorite excerpts:
and
and
and
This morning, Deadspin gathered the three known videos into one place. You can watch them here. They're fucking hysterical. In particular, you don't want to miss the second one where he unleases the helicopter move. Every time I think about this story, I start giggling like a demented person.
2. Rojo Johnson
The Venezuelan fireballer made a minor league appearance last week, and was ejected after only one pitch.
This is undoubtedly meant to promote the latest horrible movie from Adam McKay, but the clip made me laugh. As did the name 'Rojo Johnson.'
3. Josh Beckett
This guy is the largest douche in baseball. You'll say I'm biased because I'm a Yankees fan, to which I respond: wrong. I like and respect a lot of Red Sox players. Youkilis, Pedroia, Lester, and V-Mart, to name four. But Beckett is a snarling loser and a horrible human.
Friday night, after we started to destroy him in the 6th inning, he hit Robinson Cano. He threw at Cervelli's head. He hit Jeter in the back. And, despite FOX blowhard Tim McCarver defending him for five hours straight on Saturday, every single one was intentional. Someone with impeccable control doesn't lose it that quickly, to that degree. "Oh, he would never hit someone on purpose with the bases loaded!" Wrong. Jeter's at-bat came after a Randy Winn single, which had to piss Beckett off more than anything. The game was already over. Plus, we know Beckett is a petulant child who likes to smirk and pout when things are going south.
Did you see CC's retaliation pitch on Pedroia? It was a fastball aimed right for his derriere. That's how you hit someone if it absolutely has to be done. You don't start targeting their upper back and legs, where they can be hurt. God, Beckett is such a piece of shit. And because he doesn't have to bat, he can continue to do whatever he wants without fear of retribution. "But his teammates will feel the results!" you say. Yes, but is JB the kind of guy who gives a fuck whether or not Pedroia or Youk gets hit? Doubtful.
The worst part is, this is how he's dealing with the twilight of his career. He's not the same dominant pitcher he was in '07, and he never will be again. He's turned in 2 good starts out of 7 so far, and his ERA is 7.46. But instead of trying to regain his prowess with anything like grace, he acts like a baby and starts throwing at Yankees. He's a classless bum, and he always has been. In the next couple years, we're going to start seeing Beckett for who he really is.
Here are 5 'What's the Difference?' jokes about Josh Beckett.
-What's the difference between Josh Beckett and me, right as I'm about to get in the shower after a long day of rolling around in mud?
Josh Beckett is already washed up.
-What's the difference between Josh Beckett and Ben Roethlisberger?
Roethlisberger has a gray penis, while Beckett is just an aging dick.
-What's the difference between Josh Beckett and the Grand Canyon?
The Grand Canyon is a massive ditch.
-What's the difference between Josh Beckett's hand and his ass?
He can only fit one baseball in his hand.
-What's the difference between Josh Beckett and Conferedate General Robert E. Lee?
They both lost to the Yankees, but at least Lee wasn't a total MOTHERF*$%ING F*&#HEAD SH*#BIRD C*%&BAG B*&$#!.
Also, Lee never wore a stupid hemp necklace. That we know of.
I'm going to spoil the surprise: it's a hoax. But what a friggin' hoax. I hope it means something when I say that this article is the funniest thing I've read in a very long time. I highly recommend reading the entire thing, but here are a few of my favorite excerpts:
"He got us," said Bridget Blevins, the station's news director. "I hate that we got duped."
And how good was he with the yo-yo, a skill Strasser has said made him a champion? "He did some really lame things. He hit himself in the face and the groin with his yo-yo," Blevins said.
and
In each case, producers at the television stations received an e-mail from Joe Guehrke, saying he represented Strasser and ZimZam Yo-Yo, "the world's first 'green'" nonprofit toymaker.
The e-mail solicitation stated that Strasser was a runner-up for Rookie of the Year in 1995, grand champion at the Pensacola Regional and was nominated for the Walt Greenberg Award in 2000.
There is no Walt Greenberg Award in yo-yo, and there is no evidence Pensacola ever hosted a yo-yo tournament or that Strasser won a rookie of the year award.
and
In one particularly bizarre segment on WSAW's "Sunrise 7" show in Wausau on April 20, Strasser told interviewer Amy Pflugshaupt that he is just a 35-year-old kid at heart. "I don't have a girlfriend, don't want one. My parents, they live in Denver, they just got divorced. My dad is now in Oshkosh. . . . I have a brother in Portland who I don't get along with very well because of his wife."
and
At WISC in Madison, Strasser was booked and ready to go on "News 3 This Morning." But things took a strange turn when Strasser said on the air, "Do you want to hear a scary story?"
Colin Benedict, the station's news director, said the anchors were confused. They thought a yo-yo champion was supposed to be on.
Instead, Strasser started talking about his personal story of alcohol and drugs.
And the yo-yo tricks? Benedict said Strasser tried one but the yo-yo fell apart and onto the studio floor.
This morning, Deadspin gathered the three known videos into one place. You can watch them here. They're fucking hysterical. In particular, you don't want to miss the second one where he unleases the helicopter move. Every time I think about this story, I start giggling like a demented person.
2. Rojo Johnson
The Venezuelan fireballer made a minor league appearance last week, and was ejected after only one pitch.
This is undoubtedly meant to promote the latest horrible movie from Adam McKay, but the clip made me laugh. As did the name 'Rojo Johnson.'
3. Josh Beckett
This guy is the largest douche in baseball. You'll say I'm biased because I'm a Yankees fan, to which I respond: wrong. I like and respect a lot of Red Sox players. Youkilis, Pedroia, Lester, and V-Mart, to name four. But Beckett is a snarling loser and a horrible human.
Friday night, after we started to destroy him in the 6th inning, he hit Robinson Cano. He threw at Cervelli's head. He hit Jeter in the back. And, despite FOX blowhard Tim McCarver defending him for five hours straight on Saturday, every single one was intentional. Someone with impeccable control doesn't lose it that quickly, to that degree. "Oh, he would never hit someone on purpose with the bases loaded!" Wrong. Jeter's at-bat came after a Randy Winn single, which had to piss Beckett off more than anything. The game was already over. Plus, we know Beckett is a petulant child who likes to smirk and pout when things are going south.
Did you see CC's retaliation pitch on Pedroia? It was a fastball aimed right for his derriere. That's how you hit someone if it absolutely has to be done. You don't start targeting their upper back and legs, where they can be hurt. God, Beckett is such a piece of shit. And because he doesn't have to bat, he can continue to do whatever he wants without fear of retribution. "But his teammates will feel the results!" you say. Yes, but is JB the kind of guy who gives a fuck whether or not Pedroia or Youk gets hit? Doubtful.
The worst part is, this is how he's dealing with the twilight of his career. He's not the same dominant pitcher he was in '07, and he never will be again. He's turned in 2 good starts out of 7 so far, and his ERA is 7.46. But instead of trying to regain his prowess with anything like grace, he acts like a baby and starts throwing at Yankees. He's a classless bum, and he always has been. In the next couple years, we're going to start seeing Beckett for who he really is.
Here are 5 'What's the Difference?' jokes about Josh Beckett.
-What's the difference between Josh Beckett and me, right as I'm about to get in the shower after a long day of rolling around in mud?
Josh Beckett is already washed up.
-What's the difference between Josh Beckett and Ben Roethlisberger?
Roethlisberger has a gray penis, while Beckett is just an aging dick.
-What's the difference between Josh Beckett and the Grand Canyon?
The Grand Canyon is a massive ditch.
-What's the difference between Josh Beckett's hand and his ass?
He can only fit one baseball in his hand.
-What's the difference between Josh Beckett and Conferedate General Robert E. Lee?
They both lost to the Yankees, but at least Lee wasn't a total MOTHERF*$%ING F*&#HEAD SH*#BIRD C*%&BAG B*&$#!.
Also, Lee never wore a stupid hemp necklace. That we know of.
Morning: Dallas Braden as Heroic Figure
I woke up this morning, and it still happened. Two days after writing a long post titled "Dallas Braden as Tragic Figure" (and thanks to Deadspin for linking, by the way), the Stockton son of a bitch threw the 19th perfect game in major league history.
Un-be-fucking-lievable. And he did it in front of his grandmother on Mother's Day, after his own mom passed in 2001 of melanoma when Braden was a high school senior. In the picture above, he's kissing his mother's wedding ring while he hugs his grandmother. You can watch the video of all 27 outs, and his celebration with his teammates and grandma, here. Pretty awesome, pretty touching.
Of course, A-Rod could not be left out of this latest development. First, Braden's grandma unleashed this quote: "Stick it, A-Rod." It was made in jest, apparently. Then, reports came in from the visitor's locker room in Fenway:
For his part A-Rod kept it low-key:
When told that the grandmother told him to "stick it," A-Rod had a classic one-word response: "Uncle."
Braden didn't mention A-Rod in his postgame comments, and wouldn't take the bait from reporters. Not surprising, considering he probably wanted to focus on his own accomplishment, and considering As GM Billy Beane nipped that shit in the bud after Braden's latest outburst.
Last thing, then I'm done with Dallas Braden until he comes to Yankee Stadium or uses his 87mph heater to throw another perfect game: before this happened, it was nice how the Yanks stepped up to defend their star. Klapisch, in the linked article, gave a couple examples and then summed up the new clubhouse attitude among the Bombers.
This kind of massive defense would never have happened under Torre, and is yet another reason why the Yanks are fortunate to have his tenure in the rearview mirror.
By the way, I must have very shitty friends, because only ONE person alerted me to the possible perfect game. And he did it on g-chat, so I didn't get the notice until it had already happened. This is inexcusable. This has happened 19 times in like 130 years. If there's a perfect game possibility going into the 8th, YOU TELL ME. YOU FUCKING TELL ME.
Okay, so, guess what? The Yankees played Boston this weekend, and won two of three. Fascinating, right?
The big story for me is Josh Beckett, but I'm going to have to get into that a bit later. Also, the umpire on Saturday called for a rain delay when Sabathia was one strike away from finishing the 5th inning and becoming eligible for the win. That's a rough tomato right there.
On a semi-related note, my girlfriend has a newfound love: keeping the scorebook for Yankee games. Before she met me, sports were not on her radar. In fact, I don't think she'd ever watched a full event in her life before last July. She still can't get into football* or basketball, but for some (awesome) reason, she loves baseball. About a month ago, she asked me to buy her a scorebook. I thought it was a joke, and then I thought it would be a fleeting hobby at best, but so far she's averaged at least 2-3 games per week. Kind of amazing.
*The only time she musters any response to football is when a QB kneels at the end of a game to run out the clock. She considers that really, really unfair.
The few friends who have seen this book around the apartment assume that it's another example of me taking sports too seriously. When I tell them it belongs to the girlfriend, they become immediately convinced that I'm some kind of horribly controlling boyfriend who makes her do it against her will. Not the case. I did tell her once that if she proves herself as a real Yankee fan, I'd buy her a Teixeira jersey (so far, she only has the t-shirt), but this goes beyond normal fandom.
However, she also falls asleep by 10:00 most nights, and rarely makes it through a long night game. So when she found out that a pitcher needs 5 innings to be eligible for a win, she decided that a bookkeeper only has to make it through the 5th for the game to be "offically scored." Last night, ESPN aired the Sox-Yanks game, and it didn't start until 8:15. By the 5th inning of a very slow night, she was getting drowsy. Watching her struggle to finish the job through Boston's offensive explosion, pitching changes, and interminable foul balls was really something. She goes so far as to keep balls and strikes, and in the moments when she began to nod off, she'd come to with a start and ask me for the count. It was high drama seeing if she'd persevere until the last out (of the 5th). She made it, but it wasn't easy. Toward the end, when I started heckling her that she couldn't stay awake, she gave me a sleepy look and said "I'm earning my jersey."
Awwwww!**
**She still hasn't earned a jersey. That carrot is gonna dangle for a good long while.
More about the Sox series later.
Un-be-fucking-lievable. And he did it in front of his grandmother on Mother's Day, after his own mom passed in 2001 of melanoma when Braden was a high school senior. In the picture above, he's kissing his mother's wedding ring while he hugs his grandmother. You can watch the video of all 27 outs, and his celebration with his teammates and grandma, here. Pretty awesome, pretty touching.
Of course, A-Rod could not be left out of this latest development. First, Braden's grandma unleashed this quote: "Stick it, A-Rod." It was made in jest, apparently. Then, reports came in from the visitor's locker room in Fenway:
As Braden celebrated the feat, Sunday night's Yankee starter, A.J. Burnett, was alone in the Fenway clubhouse and watched Braden on TV. As Braden hugged Lindsey, Burnett said out loud, to no one in particular, "Grandma, don't cross my mound."
For his part A-Rod kept it low-key:
On Sunday, Rodriguez, speaking to reporters before the Yankees' game in Boston, had only praise for Braden. Asked about Braden's perfect game, Rodriguez said, "I've learned in my career it is much better to be recognized for all the great things you do on the field. Good for him, he threw a perfect game. And better yet, he beat the Rays."
When told that the grandmother told him to "stick it," A-Rod had a classic one-word response: "Uncle."
Braden didn't mention A-Rod in his postgame comments, and wouldn't take the bait from reporters. Not surprising, considering he probably wanted to focus on his own accomplishment, and considering As GM Billy Beane nipped that shit in the bud after Braden's latest outburst.
Beane, who was on a scouting trip in Mississippi on Friday, ended Braden's publicity tour in a brief but emphatic phone call with his starter. Reached later on, Beane said, “The player has been spoken to, and hopefully the matter should be over.”
Last thing, then I'm done with Dallas Braden until he comes to Yankee Stadium or uses his 87mph heater to throw another perfect game: before this happened, it was nice how the Yanks stepped up to defend their star. Klapisch, in the linked article, gave a couple examples and then summed up the new clubhouse attitude among the Bombers.
Other Yankees, however, took up the fight for the third baseman.
“He's a clown,” CC Sabathia said of Braden. “Guy says he's from the 2-0-9, what the [bleep] is that? That's where I'm from and I don't know what he's talking about. Two-oh-nine. He needs to just calm down - put that in the paper. That's just tired.”
“I don't know why he keeps bringing it up,” said Derek Jeter. “Go ask him, because I have no idea why he's talking about it again.”
“Braden is wrong and Alex is right,” said general manager Brian Cashman. “The more Dallas talks about it, the sillier he looks.”
Indeed, Braden's comments smacked of a player who'd fallen in love with his fleeting celebrity, which infuriated A's officials.
...
The Yankees are sending an unmistakable message to the industry's A-Rod haters: It's no longer open season on No. 13. The days of the Red Sox trashing A-Rod, as they did in 2005, are over. If you're looking to provoke Rodriguez, as Braden clearly did, chances are you'll get the entire roster's response.
This kind of massive defense would never have happened under Torre, and is yet another reason why the Yanks are fortunate to have his tenure in the rearview mirror.
By the way, I must have very shitty friends, because only ONE person alerted me to the possible perfect game. And he did it on g-chat, so I didn't get the notice until it had already happened. This is inexcusable. This has happened 19 times in like 130 years. If there's a perfect game possibility going into the 8th, YOU TELL ME. YOU FUCKING TELL ME.
Okay, so, guess what? The Yankees played Boston this weekend, and won two of three. Fascinating, right?
The big story for me is Josh Beckett, but I'm going to have to get into that a bit later. Also, the umpire on Saturday called for a rain delay when Sabathia was one strike away from finishing the 5th inning and becoming eligible for the win. That's a rough tomato right there.
On a semi-related note, my girlfriend has a newfound love: keeping the scorebook for Yankee games. Before she met me, sports were not on her radar. In fact, I don't think she'd ever watched a full event in her life before last July. She still can't get into football* or basketball, but for some (awesome) reason, she loves baseball. About a month ago, she asked me to buy her a scorebook. I thought it was a joke, and then I thought it would be a fleeting hobby at best, but so far she's averaged at least 2-3 games per week. Kind of amazing.
*The only time she musters any response to football is when a QB kneels at the end of a game to run out the clock. She considers that really, really unfair.
The few friends who have seen this book around the apartment assume that it's another example of me taking sports too seriously. When I tell them it belongs to the girlfriend, they become immediately convinced that I'm some kind of horribly controlling boyfriend who makes her do it against her will. Not the case. I did tell her once that if she proves herself as a real Yankee fan, I'd buy her a Teixeira jersey (so far, she only has the t-shirt), but this goes beyond normal fandom.
However, she also falls asleep by 10:00 most nights, and rarely makes it through a long night game. So when she found out that a pitcher needs 5 innings to be eligible for a win, she decided that a bookkeeper only has to make it through the 5th for the game to be "offically scored." Last night, ESPN aired the Sox-Yanks game, and it didn't start until 8:15. By the 5th inning of a very slow night, she was getting drowsy. Watching her struggle to finish the job through Boston's offensive explosion, pitching changes, and interminable foul balls was really something. She goes so far as to keep balls and strikes, and in the moments when she began to nod off, she'd come to with a start and ask me for the count. It was high drama seeing if she'd persevere until the last out (of the 5th). She made it, but it wasn't easy. Toward the end, when I started heckling her that she couldn't stay awake, she gave me a sleepy look and said "I'm earning my jersey."
Awwwww!**
**She still hasn't earned a jersey. That carrot is gonna dangle for a good long while.
More about the Sox series later.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Morning: Dallas Braden as Tragic Figure
There was no game last night, but that doesn't mean there was no news. Dallas Braden, the pitcher who took severe umbrage when A-Rod walked across his mound, has escalated the war of words. In that link, scroll down to #2 and you can read the best quotes from Braden's post-game interview. There are some dandies, and on its face it seems like quite the over-reaction.
Yesterday, being interviewed by local reporter Mychael Urban, he took things a step further. You can watch the interview below.
The three significant quotes:
*When asked if his words about repercussions meant that he'd settle things with "knuckles," Braden had this to say:
*After being confronted yet again with A-Rod's crack about being surprised to hear complaints from someone with so few wins, Braden had a rejoinder:
*Last, he went on to insult A-Rod some more.
So. That's an intense little development. The knee-jerk reaction is as follows: Braden is a jerk and an idiot who takes things farrrrr too seriously, and just threatened a player unnecessarily.
But strangely enough, my lingering reaction is to feel sorry for him. Here's why:
1) I don't think Braden is stupid. I think he's prideful, and more than a little insecure. You can notice the latter in small ways, like the way he keeps his lips closed when he's not speaking, and holds them rigid when he is, in order to hide his bad teeth. And the pride is evident. Listen to how he talks about the '2-0-9,' and the way he identifies with a background of grit and toughness.
To Braden, A-Rod is royalty, while he's a working class guy whose struggle to succeed started long ago and will probably never end. I honestly believe that A-Rod was off in his own little world when he jogged across the mound. I don't think it was intentional, and I'm convinced he had no idea what he was doing. It was as simple as taking the shortest distance between two points. A-Rod is dumb, but he's not malicious.
To Braden, though, that little trot was the equivalent of a sneering prince in a velvet-lined carriage spitting on a beggar as he rode through the streets. It was an unforgivable insult that had everything to do with class. When A-Rod felt backed into a corner by the media and unleashed his "so few wins" quote, it obviously did not help; in fact, it fed directly into the narrative that Braden had concocted.
2) That interviewer, Mychael Urban, is a manipulative creep.
His performance is masterful. I've watched it four times now, and Urban keeps getting better every time. Notice how he starts things off, by saying "I was on the air the day it happened, and I said 'I just fell in love with Dallas all over again.'" Urban knows that the best way to ingratiate himself with an insecure person is through flattery. Then he talks about his own pitching days, and says he would have done the exact same thing. In other words, "I'm just like you."
And Braden isn't smart enough to see that no, Urban is not just like him. Urban is a media vulture like all media vultures, even if he used to play baseball, and even if he speaks with a twang. But in less than ten seconds, the CSN correspondent has used flattery and validation, and already Braden is smiling and nodding, and feels at ease. Then Urban goes for the kill:
Unbelievable. Let's count the ways Urban succeeds.
A) He phrases the idea of fighting (which, it needs to be said, Braden has never mentioned, and which Urban invented out of thin air) as his own. Like, "here's my idea, is that what you meant?" Agree with it or not, he's saying, but it certainly wouldn't be unreasonable if that's what you meant. It's a tactic designed to ease Braden into a controversial position he never advocated.
B) He appeals to Dallas' pride in his upbringing, even referencing 'the 2-0-9' like it's a badge of honor, which is something that Braden clearly believes.
C) He projects toughness and pride onto the pitcher. "They don't settle things with message pitches." He knows exactly what makes Braden tick, and he's willing to exploit it.
Poor Dallas falls for it hook, line, and sinker. When Urban finishes his "message pitches" line, Braden winces in agreement. And after "they settle them with knuckles," Braden nods vigorously and smiles. The result? He delivers the money quote, #1 above. "That's pretty much the long and short of it."
And a day later, the video is everywhere, the Daily News is implying that Braden is going to fight A-Rod, and Mychael Urban's name is ubiquitous. All because he led a vulnerable pitcher by the nose, using his own insecurities and pride against him. The sad part is, Braden still probably doesn't know it. He probably thinks Urban is his friend, and when people watch that video and think of him as an idiot and a rube, he'll blame it on them, and become more insecure, and more prideful, and more prone to being exploited by the likes of Urban. "I think you're right," says Braden at the end of his quote. "We don't do much talking in the 2-0-9."
He should have just said "I'm your puppet, baby. Make me sing."
Urban moves on to A-Rod, knowing his fish has taken the bait. He points out that the third baseman claims to never have heard that unwritten rule. "About not walking across the other guy's island...and that's what it is, right? It's your island. Stay off my island!"
Again, Braden is nodding emphatically. "That's right," he says twice. It's sad, because he thinks he's defending himself, and he thinks Urban is the ally who's helping him clear his name, when the exact opposite is true. Urban goes on to recite A-Rod's quote about Braden having few wins, and makes sure to mock the third baseman in order to bring Dallas even further into his corner. "You've either heard the rule or not, it doesn't matter how many wins the cat has," he says.
"Right," says Braden again, just before delivering quote #2 about A-Rod being the fool with enough rope to hang himself. Urban succeeds wildly in drawing out another memorable, incendiary line to ensure that his story makes it national. But like a shark smelling blood, he's not finished.
"And one other thing about him," says Urban, "I'm guessing you didn't like him before this happened." You can hear the smirk in his voice, approving of Braden's response before it even comes, casting Braden as the good guy who really must have no choice but to admit that yes, A-Rod is not his favorite ballplayer. What else can Braden do, in the face of such logic, except utter quote #3.
So after all that, check out the lede on the Daily News:
MLB.com:
NY Post, in an article titled "A's scrub to A-Rod: Let's Use Fists in Round 2":
USA Today, in an article titled "Oakland A's pitcher Dallas Braden to A-Rod: Get ready to fight."
You can say a lot of things about Urban (fawning, ambitious, seedy), but you can't say he failed.
I guess media manipulation and sensationalism isn't anything new, but as a microcosm, this whole incident is pretty staggering. From beginning to end, poor Braden was nothing but a marionette. He doesn't want to fight A-Rod. He never did. He's not even that bad a guy, just a little prideful, a little insecure, and maybe a bit obsessive. His interview with Urban, though....that was some modern Othello-Iago shit. The whole thing is kind of a shame, and I'm left feeling like Braden is an unfortunate pawn in a game he can't begin to control. It leaves him looking like a fool, and if he doesn't already wish that he'd ignored A-Rod's supposed slight, that day will come.
Yesterday, being interviewed by local reporter Mychael Urban, he took things a step further. You can watch the interview below.
The three significant quotes:
*When asked if his words about repercussions meant that he'd settle things with "knuckles," Braden had this to say:
Quote 1: "Well, I mean that's pretty much the long and short of it.
"On a serious note, obviously there's things that are going to have to happen just out of respect for my teammates, out of respect for the game," Braden added. "I think he's probably garnered a new respect for the unwritten rules and people who hold them close to their game."
*After being confronted yet again with A-Rod's crack about being surprised to hear complaints from someone with so few wins, Braden had a rejoinder:
Quote 2: "There's two ways that I can comment on that, and I'll give you both of them," Braden offered. "One, I was always told if you give a fool enough rope, he'll hang himself, and with those comments, he had all the rope he needed. Two, I didn't know there was a criteria in order to compete against A-Rod. I didn't know that."
*Last, he went on to insult A-Rod some more.
Quote 3: "He's an individualistic player. He plays for the name on the back of the jersey, not the front. I don't know if he's noticed, but he doesn't have a name on the back over there so he should play for the name on the front."
So. That's an intense little development. The knee-jerk reaction is as follows: Braden is a jerk and an idiot who takes things farrrrr too seriously, and just threatened a player unnecessarily.
But strangely enough, my lingering reaction is to feel sorry for him. Here's why:
1) I don't think Braden is stupid. I think he's prideful, and more than a little insecure. You can notice the latter in small ways, like the way he keeps his lips closed when he's not speaking, and holds them rigid when he is, in order to hide his bad teeth. And the pride is evident. Listen to how he talks about the '2-0-9,' and the way he identifies with a background of grit and toughness.
To Braden, A-Rod is royalty, while he's a working class guy whose struggle to succeed started long ago and will probably never end. I honestly believe that A-Rod was off in his own little world when he jogged across the mound. I don't think it was intentional, and I'm convinced he had no idea what he was doing. It was as simple as taking the shortest distance between two points. A-Rod is dumb, but he's not malicious.
To Braden, though, that little trot was the equivalent of a sneering prince in a velvet-lined carriage spitting on a beggar as he rode through the streets. It was an unforgivable insult that had everything to do with class. When A-Rod felt backed into a corner by the media and unleashed his "so few wins" quote, it obviously did not help; in fact, it fed directly into the narrative that Braden had concocted.
2) That interviewer, Mychael Urban, is a manipulative creep.
His performance is masterful. I've watched it four times now, and Urban keeps getting better every time. Notice how he starts things off, by saying "I was on the air the day it happened, and I said 'I just fell in love with Dallas all over again.'" Urban knows that the best way to ingratiate himself with an insecure person is through flattery. Then he talks about his own pitching days, and says he would have done the exact same thing. In other words, "I'm just like you."
And Braden isn't smart enough to see that no, Urban is not just like him. Urban is a media vulture like all media vultures, even if he used to play baseball, and even if he speaks with a twang. But in less than ten seconds, the CSN correspondent has used flattery and validation, and already Braden is smiling and nodding, and feels at ease. Then Urban goes for the kill:
"After the game, when you said there would be repercussions- and I don't want to put words in your mouth- but I said, where Dallas comes from, the 2-0-9, they don't settle things with message pitches. They settle them with knuckles. Is that what you were talking about?"
Unbelievable. Let's count the ways Urban succeeds.
A) He phrases the idea of fighting (which, it needs to be said, Braden has never mentioned, and which Urban invented out of thin air) as his own. Like, "here's my idea, is that what you meant?" Agree with it or not, he's saying, but it certainly wouldn't be unreasonable if that's what you meant. It's a tactic designed to ease Braden into a controversial position he never advocated.
B) He appeals to Dallas' pride in his upbringing, even referencing 'the 2-0-9' like it's a badge of honor, which is something that Braden clearly believes.
C) He projects toughness and pride onto the pitcher. "They don't settle things with message pitches." He knows exactly what makes Braden tick, and he's willing to exploit it.
Poor Dallas falls for it hook, line, and sinker. When Urban finishes his "message pitches" line, Braden winces in agreement. And after "they settle them with knuckles," Braden nods vigorously and smiles. The result? He delivers the money quote, #1 above. "That's pretty much the long and short of it."
And a day later, the video is everywhere, the Daily News is implying that Braden is going to fight A-Rod, and Mychael Urban's name is ubiquitous. All because he led a vulnerable pitcher by the nose, using his own insecurities and pride against him. The sad part is, Braden still probably doesn't know it. He probably thinks Urban is his friend, and when people watch that video and think of him as an idiot and a rube, he'll blame it on them, and become more insecure, and more prideful, and more prone to being exploited by the likes of Urban. "I think you're right," says Braden at the end of his quote. "We don't do much talking in the 2-0-9."
He should have just said "I'm your puppet, baby. Make me sing."
Urban moves on to A-Rod, knowing his fish has taken the bait. He points out that the third baseman claims to never have heard that unwritten rule. "About not walking across the other guy's island...and that's what it is, right? It's your island. Stay off my island!"
Again, Braden is nodding emphatically. "That's right," he says twice. It's sad, because he thinks he's defending himself, and he thinks Urban is the ally who's helping him clear his name, when the exact opposite is true. Urban goes on to recite A-Rod's quote about Braden having few wins, and makes sure to mock the third baseman in order to bring Dallas even further into his corner. "You've either heard the rule or not, it doesn't matter how many wins the cat has," he says.
"Right," says Braden again, just before delivering quote #2 about A-Rod being the fool with enough rope to hang himself. Urban succeeds wildly in drawing out another memorable, incendiary line to ensure that his story makes it national. But like a shark smelling blood, he's not finished.
"And one other thing about him," says Urban, "I'm guessing you didn't like him before this happened." You can hear the smirk in his voice, approving of Braden's response before it even comes, casting Braden as the good guy who really must have no choice but to admit that yes, A-Rod is not his favorite ballplayer. What else can Braden do, in the face of such logic, except utter quote #3.
So after all that, check out the lede on the Daily News:
Dallas Braden clearly isn't over Alex Rodriguez treading on his mound. The Oakland pitcher gave an interview to CSNBayArea.com Wednesday in which he indicated that there could be a fight the next time the A's and Yankees meet.
MLB.com:
If you thought the little feud between Oakland Athletics pitcher Dallas Braden and New York Yankees slugger Alex Rodriguez was over, you're wrong.
NY Post, in an article titled "A's scrub to A-Rod: Let's Use Fists in Round 2":
Based on what Dallas Braden has done in the big leagues, he should concentrate on becoming a better pitcher instead of going after Alex Rodriguez and foolishly challenging the Yankee slugger to a fist fight.
Yet, the As pitcher can't keep his large mouth shut when it comes to Rodriguez.
USA Today, in an article titled "Oakland A's pitcher Dallas Braden to A-Rod: Get ready to fight."
Oakland Athletics starter Dallas Braden still is peeved at New York Yankees star Alex Rodriguez's antics from two weeks ago, and hinted Thursday in a TV-interview there could be a fight the next time they meet in July.
You can say a lot of things about Urban (fawning, ambitious, seedy), but you can't say he failed.
I guess media manipulation and sensationalism isn't anything new, but as a microcosm, this whole incident is pretty staggering. From beginning to end, poor Braden was nothing but a marionette. He doesn't want to fight A-Rod. He never did. He's not even that bad a guy, just a little prideful, a little insecure, and maybe a bit obsessive. His interview with Urban, though....that was some modern Othello-Iago shit. The whole thing is kind of a shame, and I'm left feeling like Braden is an unfortunate pawn in a game he can't begin to control. It leaves him looking like a fool, and if he doesn't already wish that he'd ignored A-Rod's supposed slight, that day will come.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Will No One Rid Me of This Turbulent Team?
"What miserable drones and traitors have I nourished and brought up in my blog, who let their author be treated with such shameful contempt by a low-born expansion team?"
These were the words (adapted, of course) of King Henry II, imploring his coterie to murder the Catholic priest Thomas Becket. And now I'm them to incite Major League Baseball to rid the Yankees of their own turbulent foe:
The Rays are now 20-7, a game ahead of the Yankees for the AL East lead and the best record in baseball. They're kicking everyone's ass in the near vicinity, with the Mariners and Cliff Lee as their latest victim. Garza even made Milton Bradley have a mental breakdown. (Seriously, I hope Milton gets whatever help he needs and gets better.)
Someone, please beat these guys. I know you all hate the Yankees, but for so many reasons, you should hate the Rays more. They can't even come close to filling their horrible ballpark. I remember more passionate fanbases going to Expos games as a kid. RID ME OF THIS TURBULENT TEAM!
*Speaking of the AL East, here's yet another article about the Red Sox and Yankees taking too long to play baseball. Somebody needs to tell people that there's no clock in baseball, and that if they really want faster games, the best move would be shortening the commercial breaks. You could take off 20 minutes in a heartbeat, and 25-30 off games aired on FOX or ESPN.
Another thing: why the hell are playoff games starting at 8:15? Why don't they start at 7 like every other night game during the year? No kid under 10 is going to be able to stay up for the entirety of an 8:15 game, and lo, a generation of baseball fans is lost. It's silliness, and I don't get why they do it. Wouldn't it be better ratings-wise to start earlier? Then people get hooked on the game, and when 8pm rolls around, they aren't switching to the other primetime shows. I guess you can't charge the same ad rate at 7, but at the current rate you won't be able to sell ads for baseball at all in about twenty years. I'm fully prepared for a future where the World Series is on the Versus Network, and my kids become huge mixed martial arts fans, or something.
My girlfriend sent me the Times article linked above, and argued that baseball is a slower game that should be appreciated for its length. From a personal standpoint, I agree; I have no problem with 4-hour games, especially when the Yanks and Sox are battling. But that's because I love baseball, and can lose myself in the nuances and subtle drama of each at-bat, each play, each interaction. To ensure that younger fans reach that point on their own in sufficient numbers to keep baseball viable in America, the game needs to be accessible. You can't really govern the pace within an inning, but you can shorten commercial breaks and start things at a reasonable hour. Sometimes it feels like baseball and its TV sponsors are digging their own grave.
Okay. Time to go do some yoga, take a shower, and spend the night singing the off-day blues.
These were the words (adapted, of course) of King Henry II, imploring his coterie to murder the Catholic priest Thomas Becket. And now I'm them to incite Major League Baseball to rid the Yankees of their own turbulent foe:
The Rays are now 20-7, a game ahead of the Yankees for the AL East lead and the best record in baseball. They're kicking everyone's ass in the near vicinity, with the Mariners and Cliff Lee as their latest victim. Garza even made Milton Bradley have a mental breakdown. (Seriously, I hope Milton gets whatever help he needs and gets better.)
Someone, please beat these guys. I know you all hate the Yankees, but for so many reasons, you should hate the Rays more. They can't even come close to filling their horrible ballpark. I remember more passionate fanbases going to Expos games as a kid. RID ME OF THIS TURBULENT TEAM!
*Speaking of the AL East, here's yet another article about the Red Sox and Yankees taking too long to play baseball. Somebody needs to tell people that there's no clock in baseball, and that if they really want faster games, the best move would be shortening the commercial breaks. You could take off 20 minutes in a heartbeat, and 25-30 off games aired on FOX or ESPN.
Another thing: why the hell are playoff games starting at 8:15? Why don't they start at 7 like every other night game during the year? No kid under 10 is going to be able to stay up for the entirety of an 8:15 game, and lo, a generation of baseball fans is lost. It's silliness, and I don't get why they do it. Wouldn't it be better ratings-wise to start earlier? Then people get hooked on the game, and when 8pm rolls around, they aren't switching to the other primetime shows. I guess you can't charge the same ad rate at 7, but at the current rate you won't be able to sell ads for baseball at all in about twenty years. I'm fully prepared for a future where the World Series is on the Versus Network, and my kids become huge mixed martial arts fans, or something.
My girlfriend sent me the Times article linked above, and argued that baseball is a slower game that should be appreciated for its length. From a personal standpoint, I agree; I have no problem with 4-hour games, especially when the Yanks and Sox are battling. But that's because I love baseball, and can lose myself in the nuances and subtle drama of each at-bat, each play, each interaction. To ensure that younger fans reach that point on their own in sufficient numbers to keep baseball viable in America, the game needs to be accessible. You can't really govern the pace within an inning, but you can shorten commercial breaks and start things at a reasonable hour. Sometimes it feels like baseball and its TV sponsors are digging their own grave.
Okay. Time to go do some yoga, take a shower, and spend the night singing the off-day blues.
Morning: Los Suns
I absolutely love this.
For those who missed it, the Phoenix cagers won game 2 against the Spurs wearing uniform tops that said "Los Suns." The specialty jerseys were made "as a celebration of Cinco de Mayo and as a political statement in opposition to Arizona’s new law dealing with illegal immigrants," per the NYTimes and others.
I've always made an explicit effort to avoid politics in this blog,* so I'll keep it simple: I think it's an awesome gesture to a community that probably feels pretty ostracized right now. And I think it's a brave choice for Robert Sarner, the Suns owner, to make. You can read his brief statement here if you want.
*Of my 15 blogs, the only one that really delves into politics is "Warren_Harding_Was_A_Cocksucker.blogspot.com," which I barely update anymore.
Jokes aside, this is an instance where sports can make a small positive contribution to the community. I'm not Hispanic, and I don't live in Arizona, but my guess is that "Los Suns" made a few people feel good last night. If you're like me and were looking for an NBA team to root for in these playoffs, look no further. Also, let's be honest, Steve Nash is one of the 5 coolest humans in the world. I'm not going to list the other 4, but I'll tell you who's not on the list:
Another great part of that ESPN recap was Phoenix coach Alvin Gentry's quote about a former Dukie:
Damn. I got a few goosebumps reading that quote. Hill has always seemed like a very nice, humble dude to me, and I'm clearly biased because of the Duke connection. This validates what I've always thought of him. It would be great if he and Nash could win a title, and it'd also be great if Los Suns could finally beat San Antonio, who I'll always believe stole the series, and by extension the title, in '07 when Stoudemire and Diaw were wrongly ejected after Horry body-checked Nash. They're up 2-0 now, and if they can steal one of the next two in San Antonio, they'll have two shots to win at home.
The Yanks are on the road to Boston today, and I've got the off-day blues, but that doesn't mean there's no news.
*Andy Pettite's injury was revealed to be mild elbow inflammation after yesterday's MRI. He's day-to-day, and may miss his next start, but as Bob Klapisch points out in the linked article, the slew of (mild) injuries to the "Core Four" is problematic. Some people are even talking about an SI cover jinx. They grace the latest issue of the magazine, and it turned out like so:
Is it just me, or is that photo a little...awkward? Why is Jorge grabbing for Mariano's left knee? Why is Andy reaching his leg crosswise over Mariano, like- let's be honest- he's humping him, and palming Jorge's shoulder? Why do all three of them look like giddy schoolgirls vying for the attention of the big man on campus (Jeter)? Whatever the answer, it's clear I'll be adding this to my collection of effeminate Yankee photos. Finally, A-Rod has a partner!
Hey, did you know we're about a month away from the World Cup, and USA-England? That's kinda wild, right? Back later with some of that, and more about the NBA playoffs.
For those who missed it, the Phoenix cagers won game 2 against the Spurs wearing uniform tops that said "Los Suns." The specialty jerseys were made "as a celebration of Cinco de Mayo and as a political statement in opposition to Arizona’s new law dealing with illegal immigrants," per the NYTimes and others.
I've always made an explicit effort to avoid politics in this blog,* so I'll keep it simple: I think it's an awesome gesture to a community that probably feels pretty ostracized right now. And I think it's a brave choice for Robert Sarner, the Suns owner, to make. You can read his brief statement here if you want.
*Of my 15 blogs, the only one that really delves into politics is "Warren_Harding_Was_A_Cocksucker.blogspot.com," which I barely update anymore.
Jokes aside, this is an instance where sports can make a small positive contribution to the community. I'm not Hispanic, and I don't live in Arizona, but my guess is that "Los Suns" made a few people feel good last night. If you're like me and were looking for an NBA team to root for in these playoffs, look no further. Also, let's be honest, Steve Nash is one of the 5 coolest humans in the world. I'm not going to list the other 4, but I'll tell you who's not on the list:
THAT BLUSTERING DOUCHEBAG WARREN HARDING!
Another great part of that ESPN recap was Phoenix coach Alvin Gentry's quote about a former Dukie:
"Grant Hill never ceases to amaze me," Phoenix coach Alvin Gentry said. "There's a 37-year-old -- he hates when I say that. Here's a guy who plays on our team that's been in the league for a long, long time. He just does a good job. Everything we ask him to do, never complains. He's always on the best perimeter player. He never complains. He just plays. He'll forever be my favorite player. He really will."
Damn. I got a few goosebumps reading that quote. Hill has always seemed like a very nice, humble dude to me, and I'm clearly biased because of the Duke connection. This validates what I've always thought of him. It would be great if he and Nash could win a title, and it'd also be great if Los Suns could finally beat San Antonio, who I'll always believe stole the series, and by extension the title, in '07 when Stoudemire and Diaw were wrongly ejected after Horry body-checked Nash. They're up 2-0 now, and if they can steal one of the next two in San Antonio, they'll have two shots to win at home.
The Yanks are on the road to Boston today, and I've got the off-day blues, but that doesn't mean there's no news.
*Andy Pettite's injury was revealed to be mild elbow inflammation after yesterday's MRI. He's day-to-day, and may miss his next start, but as Bob Klapisch points out in the linked article, the slew of (mild) injuries to the "Core Four" is problematic. Some people are even talking about an SI cover jinx. They grace the latest issue of the magazine, and it turned out like so:
Is it just me, or is that photo a little...awkward? Why is Jorge grabbing for Mariano's left knee? Why is Andy reaching his leg crosswise over Mariano, like- let's be honest- he's humping him, and palming Jorge's shoulder? Why do all three of them look like giddy schoolgirls vying for the attention of the big man on campus (Jeter)? Whatever the answer, it's clear I'll be adding this to my collection of effeminate Yankee photos. Finally, A-Rod has a partner!
Hey, did you know we're about a month away from the World Cup, and USA-England? That's kinda wild, right? Back later with some of that, and more about the NBA playoffs.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Let's Get Premature: the 4-20 Watch
Time for some sports, eh? First things first, let's make an absurd early prediction that will probably become mathematically impossible sometime in mid-July:
The Yankees will have at least 3 20-game winners this season.
HEAR ME OUT.
Right now, after AJ's kickass performance yesterday, our top 4 guys are 15-1. We have 4 of the top 11 pitchers in the AL by earned run average. Our offense is good enough to earn them some cheapie wins when they aren't at their best. So far, they've been at their best.
Now, is it likely we'll field 3 20-game winners? No. Is it possible?
I ask ye why not.
Let's get to it. I need a fancy name for this feature, which I'll revisit more than once over the season. How about the 4-20 Watch? We're tracking 4 guys, all of whom are seeking 20 victories. And the best part is, it's a secret marijuana reference, earning me credibility with the counterculture people. Time for the first installment.
That was fun. And by the way, you could do the same thing for the St. Louis Cardinals. Wainwright and Carpenter have 4 wins apiece, and Penny and Garcia have 3 each. The lowest ERA among the bunch is 2.84.
Now for the bad Yankee news: this team is old.
Jeter: Missed a game due to a strained quad.
Posada: Has to be rested all the time, missed two games when he was hit on the knee, and now might be on the DL because of a calf strain.
A-Rod: Missed a game due to knee soreness.
Rivera: Missed two games due to his left ribs.
Pettitte: Was just pulled from today's game after 5 strong innings and 77 pitches for mysterious reasons.
Old dudes are gonna be old; it's a way of life. And luckily, the younguns are stepping it up in their absence. But we'll need those guys healthy to defend our title. If the injuries stay minor, that's great. If things get worse and long DL stints await, it will take its toll.
But there's more good news; we're about to sweep the Orioles (6-1 after 6), and take some good momentum into Boston. And Andy's going to add a win to the 4-20 Watch, despite a possible injury. Until tomorrow, fans.
The Yankees will have at least 3 20-game winners this season.
HEAR ME OUT.
Right now, after AJ's kickass performance yesterday, our top 4 guys are 15-1. We have 4 of the top 11 pitchers in the AL by earned run average. Our offense is good enough to earn them some cheapie wins when they aren't at their best. So far, they've been at their best.
Now, is it likely we'll field 3 20-game winners? No. Is it possible?
I ask ye why not.
Let's get to it. I need a fancy name for this feature, which I'll revisit more than once over the season. How about the 4-20 Watch? We're tracking 4 guys, all of whom are seeking 20 victories. And the best part is, it's a secret marijuana reference, earning me credibility with the counterculture people. Time for the first installment.
The 4-20 Watch
4 WINS
4 WINS
3 WINS
3 WINS
BONUS:
MENTAL PROBLEMS
4 WINS
4 WINS
3 WINS
3 WINSBONUS:
MENTAL PROBLEMSThat was fun. And by the way, you could do the same thing for the St. Louis Cardinals. Wainwright and Carpenter have 4 wins apiece, and Penny and Garcia have 3 each. The lowest ERA among the bunch is 2.84.
Now for the bad Yankee news: this team is old.
Jeter: Missed a game due to a strained quad.
Posada: Has to be rested all the time, missed two games when he was hit on the knee, and now might be on the DL because of a calf strain.
A-Rod: Missed a game due to knee soreness.
Rivera: Missed two games due to his left ribs.
Pettitte: Was just pulled from today's game after 5 strong innings and 77 pitches for mysterious reasons.
Old dudes are gonna be old; it's a way of life. And luckily, the younguns are stepping it up in their absence. But we'll need those guys healthy to defend our title. If the injuries stay minor, that's great. If things get worse and long DL stints await, it will take its toll.
But there's more good news; we're about to sweep the Orioles (6-1 after 6), and take some good momentum into Boston. And Andy's going to add a win to the 4-20 Watch, despite a possible injury. Until tomorrow, fans.
Morning: Dread Roomies
You know what would be fun today? LIFE COMMENTARY!
Is there a rule that roommate situations have to end horribly at least like 90% of the time? Are human beings not meant to live together unless they're having, or are the product of having had, intercourse? Last night was a doozy, and I can feel free to re-tell it for everyone's glee since my roommate doesn't read this blog, and doesn't know anyone who does. I hope.
First off, my girlfriend and I are moving to North Carolina in August. I've always kind of liked moving, but the process does come with its share of stress. Finding a place, figuring out how we'll get all our shit down south, and a plethora of mosquito-sized problems tend to keep you on your toes. So it should go without saying that our current roommate, the lease-holder, e-mailed us last month to let us know that we'd have to move out by June.
Awesome. Two moves in two months, one of them the ten-hour variety. It wasn't gonna happen. We decided to basically say no. We're subletting and paying about 70% of the rent illegally, so I knew we had some "bargaining power" in this situation. I sent what I consider to be a hilarious e-mail in response to her eviction notice. In it, I tried to use vaguely lawyerly language to let her know that the situation would be unpleasant, but without resorting to outright aggression. Behold my jargon:
"Protest more officially" seems sinister, right? So does "which I think would be a shame" (if only there was a way to communicate a high-pitched, creepily calm German accent over e-mail). What's gonna happen? Am I getting a lawyer? Am I some kind of loose cannon? Who's to say?!
Anyway, that one worked itself out without me lodging a 'more official' protest, but last night I got another e-mail.
These are my least favorite kind of e-mails. Oh, you want to talk to me? WHAT ABOUT, MOTHERFUCKER?! Don't leave me hanging with this vague ominous shit. Since I'm a paranoid person, I always assume this is a psychological ploy on the other person's part to mess with me and make me uncomfortable. At the very least, it guarantees that I won't think about anything else until this mysterious meeting happens, and that I'll run through every possible scenario in my head in the meantime, complete with dramatic speeches and scathing tell-offs. I wrote back that I was going to take a quick shower, but that I'd be around the rest of the night. And right after that, I go into the bathroom, and it was occupied for the next 30 minutes! Shady, right?
Actually, it was her boyfriend, who is a very nice dude and who has no clue about any of this stuff. But I'd convinced myself that it was a very subtle maneuver by her to deny me use of the bathroom. This is the problem with paranoia; you're wrong at least 50% of the time, and being wrong makes you feel like a huge suspicious jackass.
Moving on. My girlfriend and I had both had long days, so we ate tacos and drank beer. I got buzzed rather quickly, since I barely drink anymore. How quickly? After about 2.5 beers. You might think that's a pretty sad state of affairs, but wait until I tell you the kind of beer:
That's right, it was "Hardcore Premium Apple Cider." The fact that it was cider is bad enough, but the "Hardcore" name makes it doubly pathetic. So of course, after dinner, the roommate came home. By this time I had completed my three alcoholic apple cider drinks, was feeling a bit giddy, and didn't feel like a confrontation. But I also didn't feel like waiting any longer. "Did you want to talk?" I asked with all the innocence I could muster. By my tone, I tried to convey that I had no preconceptions about the forthcoming topic. Maybe she was starting a charity and wanted me to donate. Maybe she had extra tickets for a theater show, and we would all double date!
My girlfriend, being a coward, mumbled something about bringing a pot back to our side of the apartment, and escaped. So I stood in the doorway and listened to a variety of complaints, all of which I'd anticipated. These were the main ones:
1) We had a dog in the apartment. My girlfriend and I house-sit once in a while for a wealthy couple on the upper east side, and walk their dog. For the first time ever, we took their dog with us back to Brooklyn last Sunday. The dog is hypo-allergenic. He was in our apartment for about two hours. But she came over during that time (of course), looked aghast, and said "is that a dog?" As if we'd found a way to bring Hitler back to life, stripped him nude, sat him on our couch, and gave him a giant novelty pencil and some crossword puzzles to pass the time.
I communicated that this was the first time we'd ever had a dog, and would definitely be the last time, that it was a fluke, and on and on. But she did that thing people do when they have a complaint, have rehearsed the speech, and won't be interrupted. She was "very disappointed" in us, we'd "put her lease in jeopardy," etc.
2) She has no privacy in her living room because we use the kitchen. The set up of the place is that we have our own living room and bedroom, but we have to use a separate door to get to the kitchen (New York City, right? LOL!). The kitchen is right next to her living room. Which probably sucks, but that's how it works, and for her pain we pay $1,000 for an apartment that I'm pretty sure runs either $1,400 or $1,500. But now she was fed up, couldn't spend time with her husband or friends (she even installed a hilarious zig-zaggy dressing screen to block our view of the living room- the ones women in the 1800s used to get changed behind), and requested that we make an official schedule for when we had to cook. She asked what time we wanted to 'reserve' the kitchen.
"It really varies," I said, trying to stare directly in her eyes. When confronted, I become incredibly noncommital. I'm the kind of person who can string coherent sentences together under pressure that have absolutely no meaning, but somehow serve the purpose of bringing the conversation to an end with nothing accomplished. Or, as in the previous example, I can toss out a few words that satisfy no one, and let the subsequent silence make the situation so uncomfortable that we all want to leave. I'm like the Derek Jeter of verbal conflict; I say nothing with many words, and before you know it, I'm out the door. Back me into a corner, and I will become the corner.
Then a strange thing happened. The alcohol had my head swimming, and I felt a little distanced from what was actually happening in the living room. Her complaints started to seem like they were about a third person, and instead of trying to rebut them, I just began nodding and giving supportive half agreements. She said again that she was disappointed in us. "Oh yeah," I said. Then she said it was really difficult for her to live with us. "Mm-hmm." We didn't use the sink filter correctly. "Right, right." The bathroom floor was wet one day. "Okay."
And I wasn't even trying to be a smartass. It just seemed appropriate. Some part of me had shut off, and I was just in sympathetic agreement mode. "Yeah, that really sounds tough," I might as well have said. "Hope things work out." I could have been in a neutral conversation I didn't particularly relish with a complainer, but which had no direct bearing on my life.
I highly recommend this approach when someone is trying to chastise you for bullshit that has more to do with their own well-being than anything you've done.
At the end of the conversation I felt the urge to laugh because I finally felt how absurd it was for me to be nodding along with whatever she said. But I don't think I betrayed it, and I successfully made it back to my side of the apartment, where my (coward) girlfriend rushed over and demanded the details.
Back to my original question: is it a rule that the last few months of any roommate relationship are destined to suck completely? This keeps happening to me. Sometimes I share the blame, sometimes it seems like I'm being railroaded, and other times there's just a mutual fatigue shared between the occupants. Right now it's like, my God, we have less than three months to live together. We barely see each other, so can we please try to make this something other than extremely stressful?
The Universe's Response: Impossible!
Does everyone else have this experience too, or am I secretly a shitty roommate? If you agree with my take on things, please comment below.
Wow, that was longer than I anticipated. Looks like someone had something to get off his chest! Instead of talking about sports at all, which I'll do later, here's another quick story from yesterday at work, told in the present tense with short staccato sentences.
I need to book a conference room. I call the number for the 4th floor room. A guy named Mike answers. I ask if I have the right number to book the room. "Just do it online," he says, rudely. I ask him for the online site. "You've never done it before?" he asks, incredulous and still rude. "No." "Well I'm not going to sit here and walk you through it!" he yells. I feel the strong urge for a lame comeback. "Thanks for your rudeness," I say. "No problem!" he yells. I'm pissed, and want to make him feel there will be consequences. "What's your last name?" I ask. He tells me, and asks mine. I tell him. "Don't even bother booking the room," he says, "you're not invited." "You'll be hearing from me, Mike," I retort.
Long story short: When I told my boss about the encounter with Mike (last name omitted), she informed me between laughs that I was not speaking with some petulant secretary. I was speaking with the CFO of the company. And I told him my full name, and then threatened him.
Awesome. Somehow I'm not fired yet, but I expect that shoe to fall within the next hour or so.
Sports:
Is there a rule that roommate situations have to end horribly at least like 90% of the time? Are human beings not meant to live together unless they're having, or are the product of having had, intercourse? Last night was a doozy, and I can feel free to re-tell it for everyone's glee since my roommate doesn't read this blog, and doesn't know anyone who does. I hope.
First off, my girlfriend and I are moving to North Carolina in August. I've always kind of liked moving, but the process does come with its share of stress. Finding a place, figuring out how we'll get all our shit down south, and a plethora of mosquito-sized problems tend to keep you on your toes. So it should go without saying that our current roommate, the lease-holder, e-mailed us last month to let us know that we'd have to move out by June.
Awesome. Two moves in two months, one of them the ten-hour variety. It wasn't gonna happen. We decided to basically say no. We're subletting and paying about 70% of the rent illegally, so I knew we had some "bargaining power" in this situation. I sent what I consider to be a hilarious e-mail in response to her eviction notice. In it, I tried to use vaguely lawyerly language to let her know that the situation would be unpleasant, but without resorting to outright aggression. Behold my jargon:
Hey XXXXX,
Sorry to hear that. We're in a pretty impossible situation, as we won't be able to find housing for two months and certainly don't want to have to move twice in such a short span. The costs alone would be prohibitive. It strikes me that it would be much easier for xxxx to find temporary housing for two months since she's already presumably living somewhere else. If you want to pursue this, I understand, but in that case we'll have to protest more officially, which I think would be a shame. Let me know how you want to proceed.
"Protest more officially" seems sinister, right? So does "which I think would be a shame" (if only there was a way to communicate a high-pitched, creepily calm German accent over e-mail). What's gonna happen? Am I getting a lawyer? Am I some kind of loose cannon? Who's to say?!
Anyway, that one worked itself out without me lodging a 'more official' protest, but last night I got another e-mail.
Shane,
I need to talk to you. What is a good time?
-xxxxx
These are my least favorite kind of e-mails. Oh, you want to talk to me? WHAT ABOUT, MOTHERFUCKER?! Don't leave me hanging with this vague ominous shit. Since I'm a paranoid person, I always assume this is a psychological ploy on the other person's part to mess with me and make me uncomfortable. At the very least, it guarantees that I won't think about anything else until this mysterious meeting happens, and that I'll run through every possible scenario in my head in the meantime, complete with dramatic speeches and scathing tell-offs. I wrote back that I was going to take a quick shower, but that I'd be around the rest of the night. And right after that, I go into the bathroom, and it was occupied for the next 30 minutes! Shady, right?
Actually, it was her boyfriend, who is a very nice dude and who has no clue about any of this stuff. But I'd convinced myself that it was a very subtle maneuver by her to deny me use of the bathroom. This is the problem with paranoia; you're wrong at least 50% of the time, and being wrong makes you feel like a huge suspicious jackass.
Moving on. My girlfriend and I had both had long days, so we ate tacos and drank beer. I got buzzed rather quickly, since I barely drink anymore. How quickly? After about 2.5 beers. You might think that's a pretty sad state of affairs, but wait until I tell you the kind of beer:
That's right, it was "Hardcore Premium Apple Cider." The fact that it was cider is bad enough, but the "Hardcore" name makes it doubly pathetic. So of course, after dinner, the roommate came home. By this time I had completed my three alcoholic apple cider drinks, was feeling a bit giddy, and didn't feel like a confrontation. But I also didn't feel like waiting any longer. "Did you want to talk?" I asked with all the innocence I could muster. By my tone, I tried to convey that I had no preconceptions about the forthcoming topic. Maybe she was starting a charity and wanted me to donate. Maybe she had extra tickets for a theater show, and we would all double date!
My girlfriend, being a coward, mumbled something about bringing a pot back to our side of the apartment, and escaped. So I stood in the doorway and listened to a variety of complaints, all of which I'd anticipated. These were the main ones:
1) We had a dog in the apartment. My girlfriend and I house-sit once in a while for a wealthy couple on the upper east side, and walk their dog. For the first time ever, we took their dog with us back to Brooklyn last Sunday. The dog is hypo-allergenic. He was in our apartment for about two hours. But she came over during that time (of course), looked aghast, and said "is that a dog?" As if we'd found a way to bring Hitler back to life, stripped him nude, sat him on our couch, and gave him a giant novelty pencil and some crossword puzzles to pass the time.
I communicated that this was the first time we'd ever had a dog, and would definitely be the last time, that it was a fluke, and on and on. But she did that thing people do when they have a complaint, have rehearsed the speech, and won't be interrupted. She was "very disappointed" in us, we'd "put her lease in jeopardy," etc.
2) She has no privacy in her living room because we use the kitchen. The set up of the place is that we have our own living room and bedroom, but we have to use a separate door to get to the kitchen (New York City, right? LOL!). The kitchen is right next to her living room. Which probably sucks, but that's how it works, and for her pain we pay $1,000 for an apartment that I'm pretty sure runs either $1,400 or $1,500. But now she was fed up, couldn't spend time with her husband or friends (she even installed a hilarious zig-zaggy dressing screen to block our view of the living room- the ones women in the 1800s used to get changed behind), and requested that we make an official schedule for when we had to cook. She asked what time we wanted to 'reserve' the kitchen.
"It really varies," I said, trying to stare directly in her eyes. When confronted, I become incredibly noncommital. I'm the kind of person who can string coherent sentences together under pressure that have absolutely no meaning, but somehow serve the purpose of bringing the conversation to an end with nothing accomplished. Or, as in the previous example, I can toss out a few words that satisfy no one, and let the subsequent silence make the situation so uncomfortable that we all want to leave. I'm like the Derek Jeter of verbal conflict; I say nothing with many words, and before you know it, I'm out the door. Back me into a corner, and I will become the corner.
Then a strange thing happened. The alcohol had my head swimming, and I felt a little distanced from what was actually happening in the living room. Her complaints started to seem like they were about a third person, and instead of trying to rebut them, I just began nodding and giving supportive half agreements. She said again that she was disappointed in us. "Oh yeah," I said. Then she said it was really difficult for her to live with us. "Mm-hmm." We didn't use the sink filter correctly. "Right, right." The bathroom floor was wet one day. "Okay."
And I wasn't even trying to be a smartass. It just seemed appropriate. Some part of me had shut off, and I was just in sympathetic agreement mode. "Yeah, that really sounds tough," I might as well have said. "Hope things work out." I could have been in a neutral conversation I didn't particularly relish with a complainer, but which had no direct bearing on my life.
I highly recommend this approach when someone is trying to chastise you for bullshit that has more to do with their own well-being than anything you've done.
At the end of the conversation I felt the urge to laugh because I finally felt how absurd it was for me to be nodding along with whatever she said. But I don't think I betrayed it, and I successfully made it back to my side of the apartment, where my (coward) girlfriend rushed over and demanded the details.
Back to my original question: is it a rule that the last few months of any roommate relationship are destined to suck completely? This keeps happening to me. Sometimes I share the blame, sometimes it seems like I'm being railroaded, and other times there's just a mutual fatigue shared between the occupants. Right now it's like, my God, we have less than three months to live together. We barely see each other, so can we please try to make this something other than extremely stressful?
The Universe's Response: Impossible!
Does everyone else have this experience too, or am I secretly a shitty roommate? If you agree with my take on things, please comment below.
Wow, that was longer than I anticipated. Looks like someone had something to get off his chest! Instead of talking about sports at all, which I'll do later, here's another quick story from yesterday at work, told in the present tense with short staccato sentences.
I need to book a conference room. I call the number for the 4th floor room. A guy named Mike answers. I ask if I have the right number to book the room. "Just do it online," he says, rudely. I ask him for the online site. "You've never done it before?" he asks, incredulous and still rude. "No." "Well I'm not going to sit here and walk you through it!" he yells. I feel the strong urge for a lame comeback. "Thanks for your rudeness," I say. "No problem!" he yells. I'm pissed, and want to make him feel there will be consequences. "What's your last name?" I ask. He tells me, and asks mine. I tell him. "Don't even bother booking the room," he says, "you're not invited." "You'll be hearing from me, Mike," I retort.
Long story short: When I told my boss about the encounter with Mike (last name omitted), she informed me between laughs that I was not speaking with some petulant secretary. I was speaking with the CFO of the company. And I told him my full name, and then threatened him.
Awesome. Somehow I'm not fired yet, but I expect that shoe to fall within the next hour or so.
Sports:
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Robbie is Player of the Month, and Links
*No surprises here. Robbie wins Player of the Month for April. Liriano gets pitcher of the month. Kelly Johnson and Ubaldo Jimenez took the honors in the NL.
*This is stupid. The way the Knicks franchise is run, Mike Brown is the guy we should really be looking at. What a joke. If your team is lethargic, it's your fault. What NBA team can't get pumped for a quarterfinal playoff game against one of their eastern rivals? And if they can't, chastising them over a film session won't help. Talk about closing the barn door after the horse left. Suddenly, Boston looks really good in this one.
*Speaking of the Celts, GM Danny Ainge is now in the business of distracting opposing players by waving towels. Not to be outdone, fellow GM Theo Epstein has vowed to moon any opposing hitter who dares reach base against the vaunted Red Sox defense.
*And Boston just keeps getting classier: the Bruin who actually bit a Philadelphia Flyer's finger says it's no big deal. Seriously, though, it was a Boston-Philadelphia series. If someone getting bit on the finger is the worst that happens, it's a slow year.
*Kyrie Irving is the sickness. Check out the 40-second mark to see him nutmeg a fool. Thanks to Nick for the video.
*Hey, anyone up for some memories?
That's it for today. Bless your hearts.
*This is stupid. The way the Knicks franchise is run, Mike Brown is the guy we should really be looking at. What a joke. If your team is lethargic, it's your fault. What NBA team can't get pumped for a quarterfinal playoff game against one of their eastern rivals? And if they can't, chastising them over a film session won't help. Talk about closing the barn door after the horse left. Suddenly, Boston looks really good in this one.
*Speaking of the Celts, GM Danny Ainge is now in the business of distracting opposing players by waving towels. Not to be outdone, fellow GM Theo Epstein has vowed to moon any opposing hitter who dares reach base against the vaunted Red Sox defense.
*And Boston just keeps getting classier: the Bruin who actually bit a Philadelphia Flyer's finger says it's no big deal. Seriously, though, it was a Boston-Philadelphia series. If someone getting bit on the finger is the worst that happens, it's a slow year.
*Kyrie Irving is the sickness. Check out the 40-second mark to see him nutmeg a fool. Thanks to Nick for the video.
*Hey, anyone up for some memories?
That's it for today. Bless your hearts.
Morning: CC Gets Hot, Heated
Cinco Puntos De Los Yanquis
1. CC is All the Rage
I know this comparison has been done to death, but Sabathia is so much like a bear that it's practically breathtaking. Watching him walk out of the bullpen before the top of 1st might have been the best part of the whole evening- his face looked pained, sweat was rolling down his brow, and his whole body- especially his hips- rolled as he lumbered through the outfield. Unlike most heavyset human beings, there's something powerful and fearsome about his fat. I'd compare him to James Gandolfini as Tony Soprano, but that was a more tightly-wound energy, whereas CC is loose and slow. He never explodes; his muscle is deceptive. His wind-up and delivery is a slow unleashing of stored strength. The ball zips out in the mid-to-high-90s, and half of you wonders how it could be possible, while the other half understands perfectly. The torque is generated somewhere internally, and has no outward manifestation. That's what separates him from other pitchers; they're tigers, with snarling mouths and quick, vicious movements. CC is a bear. Stillness is his game.
He wasn't particuarly sharp last night, which makes it all the more remarkable that he went 8 innings, threw 106 pitches, and only gave up 1 run. At a certain point in the 4th inning, he was already above 60 pitches, and Guthrie, the Orioles starter, seemed to be the better man. He was cruising, while CC kept laboring and escaping. Fast forward to the 8th: Guthrie had given up 4 runs and thrown 116 pitches in 7 innings, while CC made it an inning longer in just 106. That's where stamina comes in. All that strength and power lets him hit his stride just when others have begun to fade. He's indomitable. He can throw 130 pitches if the need arises. And he gets better with every pitch, with every degree, with every drop of sweat.
Ursa. Major.
2. CC's Rage
In the 7th, out of nowhere, CC stepped off the back of the mound and walked in a circle. The entire infield rushed in, and Girardi came practically sprinting from the dugout. At the game, we didn't know what was going on. Since we were sitting on the first base side, we also didn't know that the ump's strike zone had been horrible and inconsistent all game (gameday's pitch tracker has him mis-calling 20 pitches). So CC threw a strike, the ump called it a strike, and it set the big man off because similar pitches had been called balls all game long.
Though he didn't say anything, the point of his amble around the mound was crystal clear. The ump, Bill Hohn, came out and yelled at him. Girardi got awkwardly close to try to cool him down. And CC, according to fans watching on tv, said something like "I didn't say fucking nothing." You can read more about the near-incident here.
You have to think that a different player might have been tossed, and that maybe the implied power in CC, the idea of the blow-up stewing inside, kept Hohn from issuing the jerked thumb. Not that Sabathia scared him- just that it seemed wiser to keep that blood unstirred, to settle for a cold war.
3. Excellence = Yankee Starting Pitching - Javier Vazquez
We now have four pitchers with 3 wins and an ERA south of 3.0. That's 4 guys in the American League top 12. That's 13 pitcher wins in 20 starts. That's 1 pitcher loss in 20 starts. That's a 16-4 overall record.
4. Oh, Robbie.
0-4 on 10 pitches. This is what happens when a young guy with so much talent goes cold. Two days ago, he got behind in the count, reached for a pitch out of the strike zone, and roped it into the right field seats. That's what he's capable of. He can make up for a lack of discipline, a lack of what I'll call 'batting acumen,' with raw ability. He can swing at a shitty pitch in a bad count and hit a three-run home run. But he can also go 0-4, all of them lazy flies, on 10 pitches. He can reel off a 3-16 streak that has nothing to do with missing the ball, and everything to do with swinging at the wrong times. His average can drop 30 points before you blink. He can lose the top spot in AL batting in a flash.
5. I Want Power
A-Rod and Teixeira need to start hitting home runs. 4 combined round trippers in 187 at-bats ain't gonna cut it. It'd be great if they could hit for average, too (.258 and .181 brings on the dry heaves), but at the very least we need some old school shots. It'd be nice if the great pitching could last forever, but I'm not betting the farm.
The Gist: A solid opening win bodes well for the next two days, where favorable match-ups make the sweep at least semi-likely. At the moment, we're red hot and only 1 game back of the redder and hotter Rays. Another series at Fenway this weekend gives us a chance to dig Boston's early hole a bit deeper.
1. CC is All the Rage
I know this comparison has been done to death, but Sabathia is so much like a bear that it's practically breathtaking. Watching him walk out of the bullpen before the top of 1st might have been the best part of the whole evening- his face looked pained, sweat was rolling down his brow, and his whole body- especially his hips- rolled as he lumbered through the outfield. Unlike most heavyset human beings, there's something powerful and fearsome about his fat. I'd compare him to James Gandolfini as Tony Soprano, but that was a more tightly-wound energy, whereas CC is loose and slow. He never explodes; his muscle is deceptive. His wind-up and delivery is a slow unleashing of stored strength. The ball zips out in the mid-to-high-90s, and half of you wonders how it could be possible, while the other half understands perfectly. The torque is generated somewhere internally, and has no outward manifestation. That's what separates him from other pitchers; they're tigers, with snarling mouths and quick, vicious movements. CC is a bear. Stillness is his game.
He wasn't particuarly sharp last night, which makes it all the more remarkable that he went 8 innings, threw 106 pitches, and only gave up 1 run. At a certain point in the 4th inning, he was already above 60 pitches, and Guthrie, the Orioles starter, seemed to be the better man. He was cruising, while CC kept laboring and escaping. Fast forward to the 8th: Guthrie had given up 4 runs and thrown 116 pitches in 7 innings, while CC made it an inning longer in just 106. That's where stamina comes in. All that strength and power lets him hit his stride just when others have begun to fade. He's indomitable. He can throw 130 pitches if the need arises. And he gets better with every pitch, with every degree, with every drop of sweat.
Ursa. Major.
2. CC's Rage
In the 7th, out of nowhere, CC stepped off the back of the mound and walked in a circle. The entire infield rushed in, and Girardi came practically sprinting from the dugout. At the game, we didn't know what was going on. Since we were sitting on the first base side, we also didn't know that the ump's strike zone had been horrible and inconsistent all game (gameday's pitch tracker has him mis-calling 20 pitches). So CC threw a strike, the ump called it a strike, and it set the big man off because similar pitches had been called balls all game long.
Though he didn't say anything, the point of his amble around the mound was crystal clear. The ump, Bill Hohn, came out and yelled at him. Girardi got awkwardly close to try to cool him down. And CC, according to fans watching on tv, said something like "I didn't say fucking nothing." You can read more about the near-incident here.
"I didn't say anything. I said absolutely nothing and he came out from behind the plate . . . he was yelling at me," said Sabathia. "A couple years ago, I might have lost it a little more than I did but me getting older and being able to control my emotions helped."
You have to think that a different player might have been tossed, and that maybe the implied power in CC, the idea of the blow-up stewing inside, kept Hohn from issuing the jerked thumb. Not that Sabathia scared him- just that it seemed wiser to keep that blood unstirred, to settle for a cold war.
3. Excellence = Yankee Starting Pitching - Javier Vazquez
We now have four pitchers with 3 wins and an ERA south of 3.0. That's 4 guys in the American League top 12. That's 13 pitcher wins in 20 starts. That's 1 pitcher loss in 20 starts. That's a 16-4 overall record.
4. Oh, Robbie.
0-4 on 10 pitches. This is what happens when a young guy with so much talent goes cold. Two days ago, he got behind in the count, reached for a pitch out of the strike zone, and roped it into the right field seats. That's what he's capable of. He can make up for a lack of discipline, a lack of what I'll call 'batting acumen,' with raw ability. He can swing at a shitty pitch in a bad count and hit a three-run home run. But he can also go 0-4, all of them lazy flies, on 10 pitches. He can reel off a 3-16 streak that has nothing to do with missing the ball, and everything to do with swinging at the wrong times. His average can drop 30 points before you blink. He can lose the top spot in AL batting in a flash.
5. I Want Power
A-Rod and Teixeira need to start hitting home runs. 4 combined round trippers in 187 at-bats ain't gonna cut it. It'd be great if they could hit for average, too (.258 and .181 brings on the dry heaves), but at the very least we need some old school shots. It'd be nice if the great pitching could last forever, but I'm not betting the farm.
The Gist: A solid opening win bodes well for the next two days, where favorable match-ups make the sweep at least semi-likely. At the moment, we're red hot and only 1 game back of the redder and hotter Rays. Another series at Fenway this weekend gives us a chance to dig Boston's early hole a bit deeper.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Game Time! Hope Guthrie Doesn't Lose His Mind
Heading up to the Bronx in a few minutes to watch Sweet Robbie and the others knock some balls around in BP. It'll be the first time I've seen CC in person this year, and it's also a notable game because Jeremy Guthrie is pitching for the Os.
In case you missed the last time he pitched against us, on the 28th, here's what happened:
*Guthrie went 4 2/3 innings, got rocked, and the Os lost.
*He hit Jorge Posada with a pitch, and for a while it was touch-and-go whether Jorge would have to miss more than a game or two.
*Afterward, he said this to the gathered media:
*The next day, Guthrie took down his nameplate from his locker. He also removed almost all of his belongings, save for a few jerseys. Nobody was quite sure of the significance of that act. This article, titled "Guthrie Trying to Regroup After Yankees Loss," said the following: "Asked if he was trying to remove some clutter, he agreed that was part of it." Apparently he didn't elaborate on the other part. And this, from manager Dave Trembley:
Clearly, this is a human being who puts way too much pressure on himself. Someone needs to give him a hug and tell him that the Orioles are a bad baseball team who will continue to be bad no matter how he performs. But with Teixeira starting to swing the bat and the Yankees coming off a 12-run performance yesterday, there's a strong chance Guthrie will spend at least part of tonight weeping into the dirt on the pitcher's mound.
On the other hand, the Os just swept Boston. So there's that to worry about. Let's hope CC can put a stop to their upstart ways.
In case you missed the last time he pitched against us, on the 28th, here's what happened:
*Guthrie went 4 2/3 innings, got rocked, and the Os lost.
*He hit Jorge Posada with a pitch, and for a while it was touch-and-go whether Jorge would have to miss more than a game or two.
*Afterward, he said this to the gathered media:
"Let me start by saying I'm embarrassed by the way the game started, I was embarrassed by the way the game finished." I'm apologetic to fans who pay to come and watch the Orioles and watch us lose, in this case, because of me. I'm apologetic to teammates for the inability to help them win a game in four starts. I'm apologetic to Jorge [Posada] if he is to miss any time [because of me] yanking a pitch and hitting him."
*The next day, Guthrie took down his nameplate from his locker. He also removed almost all of his belongings, save for a few jerseys. Nobody was quite sure of the significance of that act. This article, titled "Guthrie Trying to Regroup After Yankees Loss," said the following: "Asked if he was trying to remove some clutter, he agreed that was part of it." Apparently he didn't elaborate on the other part. And this, from manager Dave Trembley:
"I think he really wanted to get one under his belt against the Yankees. It didn't happen for him, and I think he was disappointed. He felt responsible for it, and I told him today that he shouldn't feel that way. He's a guy with a lot of pride. He works real hard. I think he expects himself to be perfect all of the time. When he's not, he takes responsibility for that, and it bothers him."
While filming a MASN commercial earlier this season, Trembley saw Guthrie getting his running in despite a torrential downpour.
Clearly, this is a human being who puts way too much pressure on himself. Someone needs to give him a hug and tell him that the Orioles are a bad baseball team who will continue to be bad no matter how he performs. But with Teixeira starting to swing the bat and the Yankees coming off a 12-run performance yesterday, there's a strong chance Guthrie will spend at least part of tonight weeping into the dirt on the pitcher's mound.
On the other hand, the Os just swept Boston. So there's that to worry about. Let's hope CC can put a stop to their upstart ways.
Morning: Rainy Monday
ALL I HAVE ARE COMPLAINTS!
Yesterday, I got sunburned playing football, and then it was ridiculously humid, and then we didn't have air conditioning, and then it was a miserable night's sleep, and then it was a rainy Monday morning.
So instead of providing thoughtful analysis or talking about the Yankees, I think I'll just post 5 CURMUDGEONLY SPORTS OPINIONS.
But first: The A-Rod Blog launched on Friday. Come on over, give it a read, check back occasionally.
Here we go.
1) Screw Lebron James
I don't want this guy on the Knicks. I don't want him in NYC. It makes me sick to see Knicks fans beg for Lebron James. Is he an amazing player? Yes. Fine. But he's quickly becoming Kevin Garnett Junior. If I have to watch him stare down another player, or pose for the crowd, or scream into a camera one more time, I'm actually going to send him hate mail. I've never sent anyone hate mail in my life, but I'm going to make an exception for King James. I'll send him a psychotic rambling letter that will never reach his hands but will get me banned from all Cavaliers games.
I DIDN'T WANT TO GO TO YOUR STUPID CITY ANYWAY, CLEVELAND.
Honestly, though: play the game, get excited, be awesome. But STOP with this tough-guy shit. Everyone knows who you are. You don't need to intimidate or embarrass people to prove yourself. It speaks poorly to your character. Stop using the facial expression where it looks like you just chased some punk kids from your lawn in the suburbs. You used to be all about smiling and fun pre-game rituals and free spirit balling, Lebron. What happened? What happened?
Don't be like this guy:
He's an ass, and everyone knows it. He actually made unaffiliated people root for the Lakers two years ago. Nobody likes him except his own fans, and nobody will like you if you keep it up. As of now, I hope you lose, and I hope you never come to NYC.
2) Screw A.J. Pierzynski
Pierzynski, a catcher for the White Sox, is one of the biggest jerks in the game, and on Saturday he had the temerity to hit a game-winning double against the Yanks. In the past, he's kneed a player in the groin, run on the inside of the first base line in order to hit Justin Morneau with his spikes, and faked getting hit with a pitch. He also got punched in the face by Cubs catcher Michael Barrett after knocking him over at home plate. White Sox manager Ozzie Guillen had this to say about his catcher:
You can watch "AJ in his own Words" below.
3) Screw Javy Vazquez
And screw his below average fastball. From 2007-2009, he had exactly 3 starts where his average fastball velocity was below 90mph. That's 3 starts in 3 seasons. This year, his first 5 starts have all featured an avg. fastball velocity below 90.
What does a lower average fastball velocity mean?
a) Batters tee off. His HR/9 is 3.13 right now, double what it's ever been for any full season in the past. Opponent BA is .330. It hasn't been above .270 in like 10 years for him.
b) He can't strike anybody out. Since batters don't have to be scared of his fastball, knowing they can foul it off at worse, his curve, change, and slider don't have the same power of surprise. His K/9 is the worst it's been in years, and batters are making contact at pitches both inside and outside the strike zone at a higher rate than he's ever allowed. Ditto for his swinging strike rate - at 8.6%, it's below 10% for the first time in his career.
c) He has no confidence in his pitches. His bb/9 rate is a miserable 5.87. Again, that's double any total since his first two years in Montreal (3.05 and 3.55, there). His K/BB ratio is below 2 for the first time ever. His WHIP is above 2 for the first time ever. Because of all that, he throws more pitches, tires more quickly, and can't get deep into games.
Bottom line: without a fastball, Javy stinks. None of those numbers will significantly improve unless he can get his velocity back into the 92-94 range consistently. Until then, he's costing us games.
4) Screw Cliff Lee
Here's another phenomenal talent with no loyalty or class. He comes out in his first start at Seattle and dominates for 7 innings, but the Ms lose in 12. Kind of a heartbreaking game, in some ways, and Lee's agent tops it off that night by telling everyone that Lee probably won't be with the Mariners next year. Along with his constant arrogance and his refusal to pitch 3 games in the World Series last year, this cements the pattern of selfishness that undercuts Lee's talent.
Can you imagine worse timing? Seattle is the best team never to make a World Series, and their fanbase has high hopes for this year. It hasn't started amazingly, and they're hovering around .500, but the optimistic spirit prevails. And then Lee has to rub salt in the wound of an extra inning loss by telling everyone he won't be around next year. It's not like this is a big surprise to Ms fans, but it's still a shitty way to treat a fanbase. It really reeks of a guy pouting because he couldn't get any run support, and taking it out on the team through his agent.
5) Screw Dirk Nowitzki and Carmelo Anthony
After using math and picking like a genius against my brothers in the NBA playoff pool, I got screwed by these two guys, who couldn't lead their respective teams to first round wins despite being the higher seed. I'm up by about 250 points after round 1, but what should have been an easy win will now come down to the wire. Thanks for nothing, you bastards.
Yesterday, I got sunburned playing football, and then it was ridiculously humid, and then we didn't have air conditioning, and then it was a miserable night's sleep, and then it was a rainy Monday morning.
So instead of providing thoughtful analysis or talking about the Yankees, I think I'll just post 5 CURMUDGEONLY SPORTS OPINIONS.
But first: The A-Rod Blog launched on Friday. Come on over, give it a read, check back occasionally.
Here we go.
1) Screw Lebron James
I don't want this guy on the Knicks. I don't want him in NYC. It makes me sick to see Knicks fans beg for Lebron James. Is he an amazing player? Yes. Fine. But he's quickly becoming Kevin Garnett Junior. If I have to watch him stare down another player, or pose for the crowd, or scream into a camera one more time, I'm actually going to send him hate mail. I've never sent anyone hate mail in my life, but I'm going to make an exception for King James. I'll send him a psychotic rambling letter that will never reach his hands but will get me banned from all Cavaliers games.
I DIDN'T WANT TO GO TO YOUR STUPID CITY ANYWAY, CLEVELAND.
Honestly, though: play the game, get excited, be awesome. But STOP with this tough-guy shit. Everyone knows who you are. You don't need to intimidate or embarrass people to prove yourself. It speaks poorly to your character. Stop using the facial expression where it looks like you just chased some punk kids from your lawn in the suburbs. You used to be all about smiling and fun pre-game rituals and free spirit balling, Lebron. What happened? What happened?
Don't be like this guy:
He's an ass, and everyone knows it. He actually made unaffiliated people root for the Lakers two years ago. Nobody likes him except his own fans, and nobody will like you if you keep it up. As of now, I hope you lose, and I hope you never come to NYC.
2) Screw A.J. Pierzynski
Pierzynski, a catcher for the White Sox, is one of the biggest jerks in the game, and on Saturday he had the temerity to hit a game-winning double against the Yanks. In the past, he's kneed a player in the groin, run on the inside of the first base line in order to hit Justin Morneau with his spikes, and faked getting hit with a pitch. He also got punched in the face by Cubs catcher Michael Barrett after knocking him over at home plate. White Sox manager Ozzie Guillen had this to say about his catcher:
"If you play against him, you hate him. If you play with him, you hate him a little less."
You can watch "AJ in his own Words" below.
3) Screw Javy Vazquez
And screw his below average fastball. From 2007-2009, he had exactly 3 starts where his average fastball velocity was below 90mph. That's 3 starts in 3 seasons. This year, his first 5 starts have all featured an avg. fastball velocity below 90.
What does a lower average fastball velocity mean?
a) Batters tee off. His HR/9 is 3.13 right now, double what it's ever been for any full season in the past. Opponent BA is .330. It hasn't been above .270 in like 10 years for him.
b) He can't strike anybody out. Since batters don't have to be scared of his fastball, knowing they can foul it off at worse, his curve, change, and slider don't have the same power of surprise. His K/9 is the worst it's been in years, and batters are making contact at pitches both inside and outside the strike zone at a higher rate than he's ever allowed. Ditto for his swinging strike rate - at 8.6%, it's below 10% for the first time in his career.
c) He has no confidence in his pitches. His bb/9 rate is a miserable 5.87. Again, that's double any total since his first two years in Montreal (3.05 and 3.55, there). His K/BB ratio is below 2 for the first time ever. His WHIP is above 2 for the first time ever. Because of all that, he throws more pitches, tires more quickly, and can't get deep into games.
Bottom line: without a fastball, Javy stinks. None of those numbers will significantly improve unless he can get his velocity back into the 92-94 range consistently. Until then, he's costing us games.
4) Screw Cliff Lee
Here's another phenomenal talent with no loyalty or class. He comes out in his first start at Seattle and dominates for 7 innings, but the Ms lose in 12. Kind of a heartbreaking game, in some ways, and Lee's agent tops it off that night by telling everyone that Lee probably won't be with the Mariners next year. Along with his constant arrogance and his refusal to pitch 3 games in the World Series last year, this cements the pattern of selfishness that undercuts Lee's talent.
Can you imagine worse timing? Seattle is the best team never to make a World Series, and their fanbase has high hopes for this year. It hasn't started amazingly, and they're hovering around .500, but the optimistic spirit prevails. And then Lee has to rub salt in the wound of an extra inning loss by telling everyone he won't be around next year. It's not like this is a big surprise to Ms fans, but it's still a shitty way to treat a fanbase. It really reeks of a guy pouting because he couldn't get any run support, and taking it out on the team through his agent.
5) Screw Dirk Nowitzki and Carmelo Anthony
After using math and picking like a genius against my brothers in the NBA playoff pool, I got screwed by these two guys, who couldn't lead their respective teams to first round wins despite being the higher seed. I'm up by about 250 points after round 1, but what should have been an easy win will now come down to the wire. Thanks for nothing, you bastards.
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