The long delay during game 3 of the NLCS left a void that simply could not be filled by the WNBA playoffs. And then when it became apparent that the Tigers would have to postpone their opportunity to bring this year’s edition of the Evil Empire to a close, I had to face reality. No baseball for the evening.
However, this left me a little time to follow up on my favorite instant meme from Tuesday night’s debate: Binders Full of Women.
It’s amazing how in less than a day we’ve gone from:
all the way to:
Rain may have halted baseball for one evening but it can’t stop the internet. Or Mitt Romney and his binders.
The other day my good friend and colleague, Jeffery, publicly mocked me for not being tuned in to Anibal Sanchez’s at-the-time no-no. In his screed, Jeff notes how he sent me text, a text that compelled me to call him and find out what was going on. However, when you read a little more closely, you realize that this all happened on Saturday.
Now, I’m sure I don’t need to point this out to any of our RSBS readers but this past Saturday also happened to be a day chock-full of various other sporting events including some important early-season college football games. Being the sports enthusiast that I am and due to the Tigers’ increasingly erratic play, I made the decision to focus on college football.
What happened next is the very definition of what you are not supposed to do when a no-hitter is in the offing. Jeff texted me a vague, leading question which demanded a response. As I called and Jeff picked up the phone, Sanchez let loose the the pitch that would end the no-hit bid. Now, I ask you, members of the jury, who bears the blame for this unfortunate series of events? Is it Allen, the attentive friend, responding to his buddy’s inarticulate and unclear question? Or is it Jeff, the person who set these events in motion and instigated the fateful phone call?
The answer is clear my friends. And if Johnny Cochran were here with us today, this would be the point where we’d hear him say: “Texting is key, Jeff’s guilty.”
Matt Cain this week threw what some people are saying was the best “perfect game” ever. Is it really possible to say that one perfect game is better than another and, if so, which one would you vote for?
I think so, but such a statement comes with the caveat that one would have a hard time quantifying it. Why is it the best? Because of Mr. Krause? Because of Mr. Lung? Because of the interns?
That’s just the very beginning of a long list of things that makes RSBS the G.O.A.T.
But can we quantify what exactly makes one perfecto better than another? Not really. But it’s fun trying. For example, Matt Cain’s 14 strikeouts tied the MLB record for strikeouts in a perfect game (Sandy Koufax, 1965), which clearly demonstrates superior command and dominance over the opposition. Cain also threw 19 first pitch strikes and never got himself in a 2-0 count. Meanwhile, his defense did some dazzling. Both the 6th and 7th innings featured unbelievable catches in the outfield that, had they not been made, would have sunk the perfect game effort. The last out, a hard ground ball to third base that put Joaquin Arias in a stutter step also provided one final gasping twist to the accomplishment. All of the above, plus Cain’s eery zen mound presence throughout it all, provide plenty of quantification for it being the “best” perfect game ever.
Still, it’s relative. And maybe we see it as the “best” right now because it’s fresh in our minds.
I recall Randy Johnson’s 2004 effort against the Braves as being one of the most dominate games I’ve ever seen too. The Big Unit struck out 13 in that game and was throwin’ nasty stuff all the while. David Cone didn’t see a 2-0 count in his 1999 perfecto against the late Expos, a game where he also had to sit out for a 33-minute rain delay, on Yogi Berra Day, with Don Larsen in the stands!
But, for me, the best perfect game I’ve ever seen came on a lazy Thursday afternoon in July 2009, when Mark Buehrle pitched himself into the record books, again. What made that game so special, for me, was that I was watching it at work and by the 8th inning, I was watching it with the UPS man, the FedEx man and yes, even the mail man. When Dewayne Wise made “the catch” we reveled in our mutual south sidedness and gave each other big, sweaty man-hugs.
That’s the sorta thing that only happens once in a lifetime, so I’ll be hanging my hat on the Buehrle perfecto for the forseeable future. But that’s just me.
You can hate me for that. Just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Have a topic you want to see us Filibuster? Send us your Filibuster questions by emailing RSBSblog@gmail.com or by commenting below.
Every once in a while my friend Jeffery comes up with an idea that surprises me in its intelligence. Granted, his “I’m voting for Ron Paul because the gold standard is shiny!” moments tend to overshadow his more lucid thoughts but I’m the type of guy who gives credit where credit is due. So, when Jeff advocates for the one-year contract, I have to applaud his chutzpah. Sure, it will never happen for a legion of reasons but that doesn’t mean it’s a bad idea. Unlike this:[youtube http://youtu.be/dnPNr9yquuc]
Just because something is a good idea doesn’t mean it’s right, though. For instance, paying less money for gas seems like a good idea to most of us. And oil speculation seems like a bad idea. But if you take a look at this and this, you might just start to realize that cheap gas doesn’t make so much sense and oil speculation might not be so bad.
Just like traders buying “future” barrels of oil, baseball players’ salaries are simple speculation. You pay A-Rod a quarter billion dollars because you think he’s going to be able to continue putting up the same numbers for 10 years. Same goes for Pujols and all these other guys with monster salaries. You hope that by giving an extended contract, you’re actually avoiding paying less than what the market will say that player is worth and you’ll wind up with a profit. That’s pretty much “speculation” in its most basic form. And just like buying future oil, it’s not necessarily a bad thing.
For the rest of us, the options are a little more limited. I don’t have major league skills. I’m never going to make a million dollars because of my ability to hit a ball or throw a ball or pretty much do anything with a ball. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to speculate. I’ve even got my eyes on a pretty spectacular opportunity. Anyone want to throw in on an asteroid with me?
*Special cap tip to the one and only Prince of New York, whose new book, Paul Lebowitz’s 2012 Baseball Guide, (a must-have for any serious baseball fan or fantasy baseball junkie) has just come out on Kindle.
Don’t do any baseball drafts until you’ve read this tome. It’s a tradition I’ve come to love. Goes well with beer.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
What’s the best way for me to indulge my twin passions of drinking and anything baseball related before the season starts?
Thank you for putting the ball on the tee, Shaun!
Indeed, drinking and baseball go together like politicians and gibberish, and we here at RSBS are no exception. In fact, if it weren’t for this liberating combination of US American pastimes, there would be no Bleacher Bums, no Pirates fans (how could they survive?), no Miguel Cabrera.
So that is why we are proud to team up with Guinness, one of our favorite beers (Mr. Krause and I co-hosted a Guinness keg party in college, no joke) to set a record for the biggest St. Patrick’s Day party EVER!
The big day is getting closer and closer and we want YOU to be a part of it. Unlike an evening with Mr. Krause, the process is simple and non-invasive. All you have to do is follow THIS LINK, verify you’re 21 years of age or older, then click to “join the party”.
MOST IMPORTANTLY, in the “optional code” box, make sure to enter code “REDS“. For each participant using that code, the good folks at Guinness are going to donate $1 to our charity of choice, the Baseball Tomorrow Fund and its Chicago chapter. That’s right. Your commitment to having a good (and responsible) time translates to more balls, bats, gloves and other baseball equipment for Chicago’s youth.
Now ain’t that a good thang!?!?
So if you haven’t done it yet, go do it! Then sit back, crack open a tall can of Guinness and smile knowing you did something good.
_ _ _
If you’re wondering who has the world record for fitting the most hard-boiled eggs in their mouth at one time, there’s only one resource: The Guinness Book of World Records. Same thing if you want to know when and where the world’s largest omelette was cooked. But the thing about these records is that when you look them up, you probably won’t find your name listed. At least until now.
This year, RSBS is partnering with Guinness and a bunch of other blogs to break the record for the biggest St. Patrick’s Day party….ever. And we want you to be part of it.
The principle is easy. If you’re 21 or older, just follow THIS LINK to the Guinness website, and once you’re in, click where it says “Join The Party.” You’ll have to enter your first name, country and zip code in order to pledge to join the party and be part of the record.
But, much more importantly, in the “optional code” box, enter the code “REDS” and Guinness will send $1 to RSBS, a dollar which we’ll be donating to Baseball Tomorrow Fund participant, Noble Network Charter Schools. That’s right, for each pledge that goes in under the RSBS name, you’ll be helping us provide baseball equipment to a bunch of kids in Chicago.
Trust me, we’ve tried to find the catch to this. We even put the interns on the case but all to no avail. Your pledge to join the largest St. Patrick’s Day party ever not only gets you in the book, it also helps bring baseball to kids who might not get to play otherwise.
Maybe you’ll never make it into the book as the world record holder for most cockroaches eaten in one hour but anytime someone brings it up, you’ll be able to say that you were part of world’s largest St. Patrick’s Day party. Add in the fact that you’re helping RSBS bring baseball joy to some kids in Chicago and it’s an even more meaningful record.
P.S. Guinness and RSBS remind you drink (and break world records) responsibly.
Four years ago today, I wrote the first post in RSBS history. It was terrifyingly awful. What terrifies me even more is that at that time in 2008, I had incredibly high hopes for the Tigers’ upcoming season based on some high-profile acquisitions they had made. Four years later, I’m still haunted by that 2008 season and experiencing no small amount of deja vu (all over again).
If there’s one thing that gives me hope, though, it’s the fact that sometimes triumph is born from the ashes of despair and failure. That first post was awful but the throw-away line at the end ended up becoming Mr. Lung’s regular sign-off. And even though Dontrelle Willis didn’t work out for the Tigers, Miguel Cabrera has been a godsend. Paired with Prince Fielder, I can’t say as though there has been a more feared power duo in the AL since the days of the Bash Brothers.
Sometimes you have to let go of the past and just realize that it’s over. So, with that in mind, happy fourth birthday Mr. Lung. And a special thank you from both of us to the interns for their years of unpaid but essential work. But most of all, thank you to our loyal readers who keep coming back, in spite of RSBS‘ inauspicious beginnings. Hopefully in 366 days we’ll be blowing out another candle together.
I told myself that I wasn’t going to write about politics today. Yes, this blog is all about baseball and politics but with the Republican primaries going on, it seems like all I can do is mock the ridiculousness of the candidates. So, today, I wasn’t going to do this. Then I read about “the incident that almost was” yesterday at Tommy’s Country Ham House in South Carolina.
Yes, I know, the zaniness of Newt and Mitt both scheduling events for the same time at Tommy’s Country Ham House is almost unfathomable. It’s like a British farce without the intelligence. Or the British. Actually, I guess it’s just kind of a farce. I particularly like the fact that Newt seems to be intent on making the contest as high school as possible. The exact quote is, “I have a question. Where’s Mitt? I don’t think they have New England clam chowder on the menu.”
This guy is seriously being considered as the next president of the United States? It’s only a matter of time before he resorts to yo’ momma jokes. “Hey Mitt, yo’ momma’s so stupid, she named you Mitt.” To which Romney will of course reply, “Your name is Newt.” I ask again, these guys are seriously being considered as the next president of the United States?
Anyway, so much for not writing about politics today. I blame the Ham House. And South Carolina.
From the bottom of our baseball-politico lovin’ hearts, we at RSBS would like to wish you all a very happy holiday season! As is tradition here, Mr. Krause, Mr. Mahmud and I will be taking a week off to reflect on the year, spend time with our respective families and enjoy a nice Christmas ale (or ten).
We’ll be back to business as usual on Jan. 1st.
Until then, be merry and be safe!