“Wait a minute! I’m having a thought. Oh, yes. I’m gonna have a thought. It’s coming… it’s gone.”
The only way I watch another CUUBBBBS game this season is if Wizzo the Wizard and his magic cards are involved (I’d go back in time and volunteer for the Vietnam War as well, because TIME MACHINES ARE REAL). Thank you, Jim Hendry, for giving Kosuke Fukudome $48 million so you could trade him for two prospects who will never see a Major League roster to save $750 thousand. You’re something else, Jim, you really are. But… there’s so much more to check out so all is GUUUDDDDD.
Justin Verlander has me in hysterics on a regular basis. He brings some must-see damn baseball every week. 100 mph fastballs being thrown in the 8th inning are… the password is…
How in the hell is he doing that? That’s some Nolan Ryan territory.
The human highlight reel that is Asdrubal Cabrera is doing NASTAYY things out there too. No balls get by him. Nothing. He’s playing that infield like a fine fiddle. Imagine the range of Ozzie Smith but with power. NASTAYYYYYY.
Also, the new team I’ve adopted (The White Sox) still provide daily drama. The constant pillow fighting (and maybe a little pillow biting) between Kenny and the Blizzard of Oz have been fantastic! Plus, pitching coach, Don Cooper, sounds like Buddy Hackett, who should have had a much bigger role in Herbie. (Best sidekick/mechanic ever. He also makes a serious cappuccino.)
And I have Pirates fever!!! I am actively rooting for them to win the Central. They got my old pal Derrek Lee! Ol Pittsburgh hasn’t won a Super Bowl in like… a year, so they NEED THIS. All that aside, I like the Pirates being decent. It’s refreshing. Kinda like running through the woods with nothing on but pink panties and a little mayonnaise.
Also, I keep watching HBO’s documentary on Derek Jeter’s 3000th hit. It was good but not great. I pretty much just fast forward to the parts with Minka Kelly. The password is…
And just one more thing: go back and watch Warren Beatty’s Dick Tracy. The movie kinda got killed at the time for some weak acting and plot holes but that’s garbage. Danny Elfman’s score and Stephen Sondheim’s original songs combine to make it a great movie, despite everything else. And Madonna? The password is… wait for it… wait… wait…
Follow Johanna on Twitter!
Well….. The first Mike Quade tirade is over. Carlos Silva is gone and I couldn’t be happier. In the offseason, as we learned more about Quade and his pastoral fishing trips, thoughts about fly-fishing technique and bait and tackle strategery, I began to wonder what would happen when there needs to be a time to put the hammer down. I got my answer this weekend. When Silva had his tirade earlier in the season over a perceived lack of effort from Aramis Ramirez and other players in a meaningless spring training game, it soon became apparent that his teammates in the locker room had just about enough from this untradeable giant throbbing male member. By the way, this horrible pitcher had a 10.9 ERA in spring training and is a complete a$$bag.
Another thing we’ve learned from tirades in baseball (or maybe it’s just me) is that stupid, childish behavior gets you nowhere. No one ever got better at baseball by being yelled at to be “better”, or try “harder”.
In basketball, you can achieve better results on defense with more energy on that side of the ball, but primarily defense is a team objective. Football is almost entirely a team sport with thousands of moving parts. In baseball, which is an individual game, players don’t get better by being yelled at to try harder. Defense is improved over practicing fundamentals and years of adjustments, like how and when to get to a certain part of the field.
I loved when Carlos Zambrano last year called out (gold glove first basemen), Derek Lee, that he wasn’t giving enough effort on a line drive up the line, when in actuality, Zambrano used Lee as a scapegoat for his ineptness and temperamental issues. After the line drive Lee missed, Z gave up a 3 run bomb.
If I could make people better at baseball by yelling at them, I would have my own instructional video a la Johnny Bench. And it would be called “Listen you f**ktw*t, piece of s*** kid: Be better at baseball right the f*** now or go die inside a dying elephant’s rectum. Please?” I think this could work and be very effective to young aspiring baseball players. It’s like saying guys at the plate need to try harder. Plate aptitude is based on concentration, patience and HOURS AND YEARS of practice. Not try. There is no try.
The best parts of these player on player rants is that it always comes out that the accusing player ALWAYS admits eventually that they were just venting because they were mad at themselves.
Now that Silva has been released, the right pitcher for the future is Andrew Cashner. He has been promoted, Mateo moves to the bullpen and Quade can move on. When Silva talked behind Quade’s back to the media; that was the last straw for him. Jim Hendry, for once did the right thing and finally removed the team and the fans from the original blunder that got us here in the first place with the indefensible signing of Milton Bradley. Which, by the way, 29 other GMs in the league looked at like we lost our damn fool minds and laughed and laughed….and…laughed when as predicted, he colossally blew up in the Cubs’ face.
Mike Quade and the Cubs can move on now in his young inaugural season which is already strife with all the usual Cub plight we’re used to. One hundred years of bad memories, horrible contracts, bad paper, bad karma. Soriano…….(enough said)… Can Ramirez bounce back after hitting .190 for most of the year last season? On and on again.
If Mike had to deal with Silva staying and walking on Quade’s sack day in and day out and more second guessing, it would be totally unnecessary. Quade seems to say and do all the right things so far, (especially for a guy that’s been waiting his whole life for this and paid every due imaginable). But when the initial scuffle happened in early March, he said that some infighting could be good for a team. POPPYCOCK.
All it did was confirm what we’ve been hearing for a while; that Silva was not only a replacement level pitcher but also an undeserving malcontent. Eating the money sucks ($8.5 million), but we basically knew that would happen after about two weeks of jagbag Milton Bradley.
Quade finally let him have it this weekend.
Ozzie style and I’m happy.
And so in this Podcast…
Jeff, Al & that rock-n-rollin-Cub-lovin’ sage Johanna Mahmud take on all things ‘Merica, including (but not limited to) Rinku and Dinesh, Carlos Zambrano, The Hills (seriously? that happened?), the All-Star Game, the Lou
Piniella Mailbag and much,
much more… all to make you laughy-laughy!
to the RSBS Podcast by clicking *HERE*
via iTunes by clicking *HERE*
thanks to Keith Carmack — our engineer, director, editor and
all-around sound guru. His Undercast
podcast is a must-listen (listen to it!). It’s available on iTunes and
is posted regularly at Undercard
Recorded Monday, July 5, 2010
Everyone hates me! I don’t understand it. It’s like I’m the anti-Midas.
Instead of turning to gold, everything I touch turns to s**t. And now
they’re even booing me! I just want to be loved. What do I have to do
to be loved?
RSBS‘ dear readers know that I am always one for some good old japery, so I will ignore the fact that this question comes to us from a Hotmail address with the username LouBrockLover67 attached and assume that you, M. Bradley, were at one time a huge follower of the powerhouse Cardinal club of the mid to late 60s and just go with it. Of course, I am also secretly holding my breath that the Chicago Tribune gets word of this post and in digging through the RSBS archives publicizes the fact that I have called a certain M. Bradley a “whiny spoiled crybaby man-child” on more than at least twenty occasions. Hey, It worked for J-Rod and Raul Ibanez… ah… yes, a fettered blogger can dream; I suppose that is still legal and accepted (for now).
But, at this time, what causes my greatest concern is the notion that the Chicago Cubs are being hijacked by just one individual’s antics, gaffes and overall lack of production at the plate, which runs contrary to the the aged tradition of the Cubs’ losing woes being dependent on a complete team effort (or, more appropriately, the lack thereof).
Yes, M. Bradley, everything you touch does turn to s**t, but at least you have the good sense to throw it back into the stands — with only two outs. Look, they are going to boo you just like they boo Fukudome and Soriano and Lee, just like they booed Kyle Farnsworth and Jacque Jones and Keith Moreland before. Cub fans boo. That’s what they do. There ain’t no changing that.
Still, a less hostile playing environment at Wrigley could be had if you, M. Bradley follow these simple guidelines for success: a) hit over .230 b) bash a Gatorade cooler in the dugout with a bat and c) give back that $30 million and just play for the fun of it!
See? Now that was the easy part. Unfortunately, M. Bradley, since Northsiders have proven over the years that they are absolutely incapable of love (see Bartman, Sammy Sosa and Dusty Baker), I am afraid that you will just have to do without while patrolling the swirling winds of fickleness at Clark and Addison.
Beer. That is the only thing Cub fans love. Buy the right field bleacher bums a couple of rounds of beer with that fat, zero laden paycheck and you might just get the impression that you’re liked… sorta.
Until they sober up.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
***SEND US YOUR FILIBUSTERS****
Something on your mind? Want to see Jeff and Al sweat (separately, not together, eww)? Think you got a real stumper? Send us your Filibuster question(s) by commenting or emailing them to us at firstname.lastname@example.org.
***Pictures of Sarah Palin in a swimsuit also welcome.