Back and to the left, back and to the left…
Good afternoon gentleman, ladies and Allen.
Wanna get turned on whilst young children (maybe your own) are in the room?? Someone does!!
If you just woke up from a coma and realized that some Navy Seals in Pakistan just found Jimmy Hoffa’s body, you may have missed some of the greatest video ever known to man (until we get to see some grainy footage of a lunatic gettin shot in the eye).
Braves pitching coach Roger McDowell made some absurd homophobic slurs at some Giants fans in the presence of children the other day… because that would never happen at a mostly white male sporting event.
Usually these types of remarks come from someone who’s probably closeted in his own way… and from what I’VE heard, Roger McDowell could really smoke the fastball back in the day!!! Right????
THE HORROR!!! But wait!!!
The world has now benefited from some wonderful video conferencing, herein such…
But what I really want to talk about is the legendary Gloria Allred.
I have a feeling about how her meeting with her new client went down involving said bat:
“Look, here’s how this is gonna go: if you allow me to take this case pro bono, the press conference will go something like this… I’ll cradle the ****… stroke the *****… work the ****… and swallow the *****… Get it over here buddy let’s do this…”
What is in my head right now as I watch this? The hornswaggling bamboozelment of this sap (client) will be legendary. In fact, someday these kids will grow up and realize how much of a ridiculous piece of crap their father is.
I wish I had that weird District 9 prawn alien laser gun bazooka to blow her up into a million lawyer parts.
— Johanna Mahmud
Give up yet?
Let’s see, there’s Maddux, Smoltz, Glavine, Avery and…
You betchya! Move over, Petey, ‘cuz Joe Blanton is about to take his seat on the ultimate bench of irrelevancy!!!
Indeed, as the shock from Ruben Amaro’s impressively aggressive move to recapture the services of Cliff Lee finally wears off, we are all bound to feel the wrath of that stellar Phillies rotation — a rotation that will make National League stomachs churn as violently as a half digested Taco Bell 7-layer burrito after an all-night college kegger where you went home with a chick named Mo.
And then there’s Joe Blanton.
Of course, this is assuming Blanton will even be a Philly once the 2011 season starts. If I were Ruben, I would do everything in my power to unload that salary, then it’d just be a matter of putting a body out on the mound every five days. If said body is able to pitch, that’s a plus. But really, four days out of five, the Phils are gonna be the hardest friggin’ team ON THE PLANET to beat.
Are you paying attention to all this Mr. Mozeliak?
Hate me. I don’t care. Just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
If I’m a Californian, I’m not too excited about the two gubernatorial choices jockeying for my November vote. Jerry Brown? More like Jerry Boring. Meg Whitman? Uh… you invented eBay, Meg, not the actual internet (Al Gore did that), so don’t be so proud of yourself.
To be honest, I don’t think most Californians even know there’s an impending gubernatorial race going on. With so many distractions, like the Kardashians and Alex Smith and The Hills… when does one have time to care about politics?
You needn’t worry, California. Your man — though barely known just a few weeks ago — is Cody Ross.
After being fed to the waiver wire in August, Ross was reluctantly picked up by the Giants; his timely bat and quiet confidence has since turned into the bargain of the year.
He banged one out against Derek Lowe to break up a no-hitter in the NLDS.
He banged TWO out against Roy Halladay in Game One of the NLCS.
He banged ANOTHER out against Roy Oswalt in Game Two of the NLCS.
That’s a lot of friggin’ bangin’…
And for a state that’s known to bang, I think Cody Ross should get a shot.
Hate me ‘cuz I think outside the box (and occasionally use tired cliches), just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
there’s a good chance we’ll have an all east coast World Series. Don’t
you get sick of watching the same teams over and over?
Achtung, dear readers! Once again, Larry presents us with a classic case of can’t-live-with-’em-can’t-live-without-em-itis — a taxing condition so prevalent that it has infected the hearts and minds of rural and metro US Americans left of the east coast for over a century!
Yankees, Red Sox, Yankees, Red Sox, Mets, Phillies, Yankees, Red Sox… bla bla bla…
Yes, it’s annoying. I know. Except that this year it’s not Yankees, Red Sox, Yankees, Red Sox bla bla bla.
It’s the Rays! It’s the Braves! And no Red Sox!
what if the Yankees are in there? And the Phillies. Hell, the
Phillies are the best team in baseball right now. Post season
no-hitters? Crushing offense? Isn’t that what we want?
all biased pride aside, do you remember how many people were watching
the 2006 World Series that featured two historic midwestern teams? What
about the 2002 pairing of two California clubs? Or how about the
mostly-forgotten 1997 classic featuring your very own Tribe?
People (the same collective “people” who seem to think Armageddon
is “great film”) don’t remember, because people (the same “people” who
define NASCAR as an actual sport) don’t care; and people (yes, the same
“people” who consider McDonald’s to be authentic American cuisine) don’t
care, because no one has told them that they should care.
Which brings us to the main culprit: a centralized power of all-things media, also known as mind control, rooted in New York.
tecnocratic ways not yet fully understood, New York has convinced we
the people that if New York isn’t involved, then it’s not worth caring
about. So, naturally, our press reflects that.
No east coast clubs? Fine. No glitz. No pomp. Barely a modicum of circumstance.
Personally, I’m okay with that. Because such buzz, it breeds emotion. Gets people talking. Forces people to care.
And for a sport lovingly labeled as our national pastime — one that has
had plenty of public relations gaffes threaten its integrity over the
last few decades — caring about the game is all that really matters.
most non east coast elite, I have no love for the headline-hoggin’ high
profile teams that tend to bandwagon in October; but I know that their
existence is nothing but good for the game.
We need the Yankees. We need the Red Sox.
The post season needs the east coast elite.
Because US America needs an enemy.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
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***Photographic evidence of Mr. Krause casting a Tea Party vote also welcome (it’s possible).
Things should be much, much clearer now.
Every year about this time a magical transformation takes place. Normally sane people go stark, raving mad as they cheer their favorites to the finish. The coolness in the air mirrors the coolness in neighbors’ stares as some new item of support gets unfurled in the yard. Promises get made only to be broken soon thereafter. And that’s just in the world of politics.
We are truly a blessed country because every fall we not only get the insanity of the baseball playoffs, we also get the truly mind-numbing inanity of the November elections. But this year is extra special because in addition to the antics of Democrats and Republicans, we also get the often unbelievable but usually entertaining shenanigans of the Tea Party.
Over here at RSBS we’ve made a tradition of putting together our annual playoff preview and this year is no exception. But each edition needs a theme and this year, in honor of our Teabagger friends, the theme just kind of put itself out there. Let’s get to it.
Like the NL, green tea has pomp, circumstance and history. The Chinese have been drinking the stuff since Europeans were letting blood to cure sickness and avoiding baths in the belief that water would kill you. Although it may have never gone away in the Asian world, the green stuff has experienced quite a renaissance in the West with the discovery of all it’s anti-oxidant properties. Likewise, with the NL finally in the driver’s seat after winning home field advantage at the All-Star game, you have to think they’re feeling a little renaissance of their own is due. But renaissance in what flavor?
Starting in the east (naturally, since we are talking about tea), we have the two-time defending league champion Phillies, the Japanese green tea of our preview. It’s classic, you know it and you know you’re probably going to see it again. Not only that, it just makes sense. Seriously, how would your bento box taste without the tea accompaniment? It belongs.
Meanwhile, the Lipton green tea of the NL, Atlanta’s own Braves, somehow found a way to get Bobby Cox back into the playoffs. Sure, it may not have been your first choice but it will get the job done. However, it’s also only going to get you so far. More on that later.
In the heartland, the Reds find representation in the classic Gunpowder variety of green tea. No one is quite sure how the tea got its name, maybe because it’s rolled into little pellets, maybe because it expands explosively when it hits the water. But there’s one big problem here. The way you know the quality is from the size of the balls. Smaller balls, better quality. Dusty Baker and his team aren’t exactly known for their small balls. Do you remember that brawl with the Cardinals? The Reds, their balls are a little too big.
Finally, out west we find the Giants, the Moroccan mint tea of the baseball world. It tastes good, there’s a lot to like but something’s a little off. Maybe it’s not strong enough, maybe there’s too much sugar but for whatever reason, it’s only good in small doses. That’s probably all right, though, since all we’re going to get from the Giants is a small dose when they exit during the first round.
Black tea found a home in the west but purists still sniff at its lack of tradition. Sure, it may have more caffeine, it may keep you going but where’s the ceremony? Now the fans of black tea will argue that theirs is still a noble tradition and despite their blends and flavors and addition of milk, the tea is still central. You’re not going to have any luck sliding that argument by the tea dogmatists, though.
Since black tea is a western thing, we’ll start out west with the preview as well. That means we dive straight into a steaming cup of Irish breakfast tea, also known as the Texas Rangers. Nolan Ryan owns the team and you don’t get much more Irish than that. However, in the land of black tea, the English reign supreme. Sorry, Nolan. It just wasn’t meant to be.
This leads us to Minnesota where the Twins find themselves represented by….wait a minute! That’s not tea. That’s herbal tea! C’mon guys. I can steep dirt in water and call it tea but everyone is going to know it’s just mud. Herbal tea is nice when you have a cold but it’s not “tea.” Hm, I guess that’s kind of fitting since the Twins are a “playoff team” but aren’t really a playoff team. Or at least won’t be for very long.
From here we find ourselves back east again with two very different teams. We start with the Rays, the Massala Chai of the baseball world. There are a lot of flavors going on there, it’s new, it’s hip. And it definitely works for awhile. The question is, when the chips are down and you have to pick just one, do you go for the spicy stuff or something proven?
And what could be more proven than the English breakfast tea that is the Yankees. Personally, I don’t like the stuff but a lot of people do. Not only that, it’s strong and it gets the job done. Sure, the tradition may not go as far back as the NL but when you can throw around names like Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig and Yogi Berra, you got something going on.
So what happens next? Well, it’s pretty simple. We line them up and see who lasts the longest. I apologize to everyone who lives west of the Mississippi but when I read the leaves, their fortunes don’t look good. Texas, Minnesota, San Fran and Cincy all go down in the first round leaving us an east coast finale in both leagues. I’m sure this doesn’t bother the broadcasters who will be reading tea leaves of their own and I’m sure they’ll be even more happy when the Yankees and the Phillies emerge to once again do battle in the World Series.
So, it comes down to this. Japanese green tea vs. English breakfast tea. The fact of the matter is, anyplace else in the world the green tea wins hands down. But this is America and the Anglo-Saxons decided to let all their chips ride on black a couple hundred years ago. Good thing they did because the Yankees win again.
It has become obvious to me that baseball managers do not read this blog. How do I know this? Because how else can you explain the fact that Kyle Farnsworth STILL has a job?! Have I not made this clear? The dude is poison. The Cubs didn’t blow the 2003 NLCS because of Bartman. It was Farnsworth. He makes every team worse.
But, despite my multitude of cautions and unwavering admonitions, teams with hopes of making the postseason still go out and pick this guy up. His latest victim? The Braves. And there’s no way they can say they didn’t see it coming. Just scroll down through the article and, after reading about how he pitched this time, relive the magic of his previous outing with the Braves.
At least Farnsworth didn’t go crazy after the game like some other NL East relievers. Instead he just accepted it as another day at the park: “Can’t do anything about it. Just got to keep your head up and keep going.”
Really, Farnsy? Because I think you actually can do something about it. I think these GM’s could get their heads out of their a$$es and make a decision not to hire you anymore. They did it to Barry Bonds and he at least performed. I should probably keep it down, though. Even if the managers don’t read this, you might and I wouldn’t want to see you cry again.