And the Final Rose Goes to…
“Nice guys don’t finish last. Nice guys just have to wait a little bit longer sometimes.”
In this all-Bachelor edition here at Setting the Mahmud, I’ve narrowed down who gets my lucky rose! No, not the MVP award — THAT’S NOT HOW WE DO THINGS AROUND HERE — we’re talking about my rose.
Stephen Strasburg wasn’t around enough this year, but he definitely gets an honorable mention, just because. Simmering optimism for next year, my friend. Also, no one should ever have to see what my face is doing right now.
Aramis Ramirez is usually my go-to old flame. That being said, I have an irrational dislike for how he runs the bases. (Sorry, Aramis. I never had the heart to tell you.) And now I’m looking for something a little more long term. I want to build a new life with someone special. I really can’t do a long distance relationship right now, and I’m not too confident Ramirez will be around much longer.
Buster Posey lost out early. It was no fault of his own (injury). BASTARD. I was rooting hard for him. He looked strong to start the season and was a returning champ from last year. Can’t hide the gimpy now though. There’s always next year!
Asdrubal Cabrera, the human highlight reel, would be a strong contender but this rose can go to only one…
Nyjer Efffin Morgan! MY GUY!! AKA, Tony Plush! Nobody does it better. What can I say?
Nyjer, my dear Nyjer, every moment you had on camera set my heart a flutter. THAT IS NOT WEIRD, PEOPLE. In fact, T-Sizzle could do odd things to me if he wanted.
I’m only mostly kidding.
Too strong. TOO GOOD.
Follow Johanna on Twitter!
With just six weeks and some change left in the regular season, now is the time I lament my dear Cardinals’ now seemingly annual implosion from the top of the NL Central and into regular season obscurity. Sure we can blame Waino’s injury. We can blame Albert’s transformation from Machine to Double-Play Machine. We can blame shoddy defense and the lack of a real closer, hell, blame me, I don’t care. But in the end, there is no denying that we have lost the really important games and we’ve been real sloppy doing it.
Of course, this is the NL Central. So until the math cancels us out, there’s no need to give up just yet.
The same cannot be said for the Tampa Bay Rays.
If the Rays were in any division other than the AL East they’d be right in the thick of contention. Unfortunately, the way things are now, even if they do collect the fourth best record in the AL, they still won’t make the playoffs as long as post season regulars New York and Boston remain above them. I find this a bit sad, for the Rays have gotten tremendous pitching all season long and they’ve found a way to win without high-priced free agent flops Carl Crawford and Carlos Pena.
But no one’s talking about the Rays. And no one will.
Hm… reminds me of the one-way delusional street commonly referred to as the Republican Party.
In the case of the Rays, at least they’ll get another shot next year. Dr. Paul, on the other hand, is stuck in a great big clogged up tube of crazy, and the exit is nowhere to be found.
Oh my, oh my, oh my. Who coulda thunk it? Who would’ve thought the Yankees’ public image would be so tainted after just one offseason of not signing Cliff Lee, not signing Carl Crawford, not (yet) signing Andy Pettitte and not listening to their GM who was supposedly off courting — *GASP* — Carl Pavano of all people!!!???
Okay. Well, the Yankees have had a bad winter. So what? They’re the Yankees. They’re still among the best; and I’m positive, they will survive.
But just in case they need to run some interference on all the current bad press, I suggest they employ the services of one magnificent Ron Daahl.
Who is Ron Daahl you ask?
Why don’t ya see for yourself:
*Special thanks to the Charles Grodin crew! If you’re ever in the Chi, go see their shows! They will make you pee your pants they’re so funny!
Don’t worry, dear readers, RSBS is on it. Sure, the WikiLeaks crew seems to be focusing their efforts on outing wrongs and ending wars, but don’t forget: a lot of these folks are US Americans (I think?) and after they solve enough military crises and torture pandemics, they’re gonna turn their attention to what really matters:
Luckily, for you, we have the inside track. Of course, such sensitive information doesn’t come easily, and It is important to remember that many RSBS interns perished in order to bring you the truth.
Please. Be respectful of that.
And do with it what you will. After reading the following information, I advise you to lock all the doors, close all the windows and drink some beer. You’ll feel better.
– – – WIKILEAKS CONFIDENTIAL; MLB FACTION – – –
Derek Jeter is being courted by the Red Sox. And he is listening.
The Expos are not dead. They’re frozen in carbonite until the Quebecois can be fooled into thinking they’re watching hockey. Almost there.
Peter Gammons is Gepetto. For real.
The Pittsburgh Pirates’ 1979 uniform combos were designed by embedded Russian spies hoping to kill the American public with ugliness. They almost succeeded… if it weren’t for that damn Sister Sledge!!!
Contrary to popular belief, Desmond Jennings is NOT Carl Crawford. The Rays are making a mistake.
Jon Hamm loves the Cardinals. (Oh, that’s not a secret? Of course not… everyone should love the Cardinals!)
The Cubs remain in a perpetual state of misery… because they can. Cubs fans keep coming back. For more.
Prince Fielder is prone to eating himself if left alone for more than 15 minutes at a time.
Yorvit Torrealba’s name spelled backwards is Ablaerrot Tivory, which looks like a Prussian hybrid name. But it’s not. It’s Spanish. Backwards. Try it. You’ll see.
We know what Jayson Werth did last summer… and it wasn’t Chase Utley’s wife!!!
– – – END CONFIDENTIALITY – – –
Hate me ‘cuz I get the facts. Just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Wow. Baseball is really over. I’m feeling a little lost here. Should I
turn to football, alcohol or the annual Victoria’s Secret holiday
special for comfort?
For serious though, anyone who knows me knows to be very, very cautious this time of year… for the sudden drop of the best baseball teams on the planet playing for a title to absolutely no baseball games at all can be beyond devastating.
I ain’t gonna tell on myself, but if you refer to the sheer number of world catastrophes that have taken place during the month of November over the last several years, you’ll understand exactly what I’m trying to say.
So. How do we cope?
Football helps. But not if you’re a Bears fan. So, yeah. I’m screwed there.
Hockey helps. No. That’s a lie. Hockey doesn’t help. At all.
My pal Johanna (from the RSBS podcasts) is trying to get me into the NBA… he’s been quizzing me on my basketball knowledge. My only problem is that the last time I paid any attention to the NBA, Charles Barkley and Shaquille O’Neal were in their primes (and half their current sizes!) so I’ve got a lot to catch up on. Apparently Dwight Howard and Juwan Howard are not the same person.
And beer. Yes. Beer will help. A lot. Especially if you mix beer and vodka and gin with Johnnie Walker… and a few bottles of Ambien. After that cocktail you won’t even remember to watch the Victoria Secret Holiday Special, let alone care about it.
And if everything goes according to the above plan, you can eliminate most of the doldrums tha traditionally take place between Thanksgiving and President’s Day. By then, Cliff Lee will be in pinstripes, Jayson Werth will be in pinstripes, and Carl Crawford will be in pinstripes!!!
So join me, Ben… join me, dear readers galore… and let us ride off into that fabled sunset known as off-season delirium. It won’t hurt. I promise.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
As is tradition here at RSBS, The Filibuster will now go on hiatus until pitchers and catchers report in the spring, leaving more room for the avant-garde ridiculousness you’ve come to expect from us over the years. Of course, come February we’ll announce its return; in the meantime, we would like to heartily thank all the strangers, friends, relatives, morons, geniuses and fellow bloggers who have sent in Filibuster questions during the 2010 season. Without y’all, it’d just be Al and I talkin’ to ourselves (BORING!)… so thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!!!