Andy Williams had it all wrong. I’m sorry, but I’ll take September’s non-stop MLB pennant chasing + NFL + Notre Dame losing to Michigan combination over cold and snow and fake Santas any day. In fact, since it’s an election year, we get even more drama to go with our Irish-trouncing, and if you wait until the end of this post, you’ll even see that the Republicans have JOKES!
But first thing’s first: TUNE IN TO BASEBALL. My lord, between the AL Central showdown, the A’s/Angels wild card battle and the AL East title three-way, I can’t imagine a more exciting scenario (except maybe a non-baseball related three-way, but that’s for a different blog). Consider the NL wild card race and the fact that one of the three AL East teams could also nab the last AL West wild card spot and now allow your mind to be blown (again, maybe better for another blog).
And I haven’t even mentioned the myriad story lines decorating the start to the NFL and college football seasons!
The fact is, for dudes like Mr. Krause and I, it really doesn’t get much better than this. Unless you want to throw in some flaccid punchline deliveries (ZING!)…
Hate me ‘cuz you can, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
The Pirates were a perennial losing franchise?
Bob Costas’ pretentious Olympian superlatives weren’t pretentious because they were about baseball, something the man truly loves?
I mocked Sarah Palin’s mocking of Obama’s proposed “hopey-change” politics?
Everyone discounted the Cardinals’ playoff hopes with three weeks left in the season?
The GOP wasn’t an absolute joke?
Christopher Nolan’s Batman franchise was the greatest thing that ever happened in comic book film history? (WARNING: Major spoiler alert with that link)
NBC didn’t ruin every single sporting event it broadcasted?*
US American politicians really worked for the people?
And remember when you didn’t hate me ‘cuz I was right?
*Not including the XFL, which was a brilliant endeavor, even if it was extremely stupid.
If you have a stomach strong enough to stand the neverending barrage of political headline craptitude, then you might already know that the Mitt Romney camp is eager to point out that Barack Obama ate dog as a child. Obviously, this is pretty important stuff. As the Republicans know, you are what you eat (is Astroglide edible?), and no doubt, Obama’s youthful ingestion of doggie treats certainly makes him unfit for a job as demanding as the presidency.
Which got me thinking about my favorite baseballers and what they eat. Sure, some probably go for too much hot dog and not enough arugula salad, but let us examine to make sure. The interns have graciously prepared some slides.
McPizza. Right? Weighing 300 lbs. as a baseball player ain’t easy, but when you only pitch every once in a while and you eat crap like the above, then it’s easy as McPie.
Baby Ruth. Duh.
Nothing??!! Dude is about to disappear!
And finally (you probably knew this was coming)…
The known universe.
To be exact, this idea references a fascinatingly disturbing thought theorized by famed astrophysicist, Neil DeGrasse Tyson. One could look at it the way he explains — that an entire universe could be within each and every one of us. Or, you can think (like me), that dude doesn’t get that large unless he eats everything in the entire known universe.
Either way, don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Unless we’re talking about the cavernous anatomy of a female Kardashian, despite my best efforts, I still have not been able to pinpoint the location of a reachable and workable worm hole. Hadron Colliders the size of Prince Fielder’s appetite are also difficult to find these days. And let’s not even start talkin’ about the insane price of rocket fuel!
So how do I propose we travel back in time?
We open our eyes and take in the train wreck that is the Republican primary!
Want to live in a world where a woman’s reproductive rights don’t matter? Vote Republican!
Want to live in a world where your life is governed by an invisible sky daddy whose literary tome is as angry, erratic and suspect as a Manny Ramirez press conference? Vote Republican!
Want to live in a world where the ONE candidate who ACTUALLY MAKES SOME SENSE is so shunned that he doesn’t even have ONE person embedded in his campaign to report what is actually going on? Vote Republican!
We might not be able to travel back in time to stop the JFK assassination or Don Denkinger’s blindness during the ’85 Series, but as the above scenarios prove, we can go back about 100 years without much effort. Just know that, if we do, it may only be a matter of time before they may decide it is okay to own human beings and to kill others simply because they believe in a different fairytale.
Hate me. Whatevs. Just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Take it from them! Just take it!
Forget your fickle fossil fuel subsidies, your position on amnesty for illegals, your corporate bailouts! Forget them!
Who cares for your stupid little war on drugs, your ignorant stimulus spending, your silly stem cell debate? Who cares?!?!
If you want to win Super Tuesday, Mr. Politician, take off your shirt, ride a horse and go shoot a stinking tiger!
And if they try to stop you from winning? There is only one thing left to do.
– – –
Of course, the above method may not translate well to the 2012 baseball season. I have tried touting my team as the 2012 World Series Champions already. But it’s not working.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Just like A.J. Burnett in a Pirates uni, this is going to be ugly, moan-inducing and might even warrant a trip straight to the DL.
New MLB Playoff Format
In short, I like it. It emphasizes winning the division, makes trade deadline trades more suspect and guarantees drama as we enter the postseason. The only thing I can think of that would make this arrangement better is to skip the one game playoff and force each wild card team’s manager to do a keg stand before engaging in a last-man-standing no-holds-barred boxing tournament. My money is on Ron Washington. Cocaine makes ya crrrrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaazzzyyy!
Bigots Leading the Republican Party
Whether it’s the Pennsylvanian Taliban or the Ditto Führer of Ignorance himself , I’m getting quite tired of seeing Abe Lincoln’s party fall victim to mass idiocy. But I found something that will really cause ’em to scratch their heads:
Yadier Molina: Five More Years
Halle-FRACKIN-lujah!!! Seriously, I cannot even begin to tell you how happy this makes me. To those outside of the St. Louis Cardinals family, such jubliation may not seem warranted, but let me assure you: this is a grand, grand deal for all involved. Say what you will about Albert’s tenure, Yadier Molina is the absolute heart and soul of the St. Louis Cardinals. And everyone’s happy now. Yadi’s happy. Front office is happy. The fans are happy.
That guy in the pointy hat made another statement on gay marriage recently, saying it is “one of the most serious threats to the traditional family unit” and that it undermines “the very future of humanity.”
Hmm. I can think of a bazillion things that are a far greater danger to the very future of humanity, like, protecting monsters who rape children, making it illegal for someone to marry whom he/she loves, and not challenging a discourse that is solely based on bronze age delusions “encouraged” by an invisible sky daddy.
Two More Years of Bud Selig
Ugh. Really? If only MTV could rock the MLB owners’ vote. No more King Bud! Things have gotten better recently, yes, but there are at least three egregious errors committed during his reign that demand a new king: 1) Not addressing the PED issue until it was too late 2) the ongoing All-Star Game yields World Series home field advantage fiasco and 3) being the last of the big four to launch its own network (seriously, it’s sad when the NHL beats you, at anything).
Also, I can think of at least three perfect candidates for the commissioner’s job: Joe Torre, Bob Costas and ME!!!
Between Mitt, Santorum and a bevy of derailed crazy trains, I can only shake my head as I watch the Republican party fall deeper and deeper into delirium. If only our political leaders would take a page out of Aussie PM Bob Hawke’s book:
Now THAT, my friends, is a dear leader.
Continuing with the end-of-year holiday tradition here at RSBS, it’s time to separate myself from my imaginary girlfriend (NSFW) and ask the interns to lock my office door so I can get down to the meaty reflection of what was the RSBS year 2011. Additionally, I must begin the sad, fiery purge of Albert Pujols memorabilia. For those of you who went to public schools, you know that maintaining a fire within a small, confined room may cause ill-fated side effects, so before I start to look like Bert the chimney sweep, let me get to it…
First of all, no year would be a good year without you, the dear RSBS reader. THANK YOU, for your readership. THANK YOU for your emails, your tweets, your comments, Facebook shares and FingerTagging! And THANK YOU for continuing to make writing about the baseball-politico world a treat for us every single day.
Like my riveting and oft rousing colleague, Mr. Krause, I too have been very impressed with our special correspondents. For me, nothing says sweet Miggy-I-Love-You quite like Mark Piebenga’s His Game Is Like Waves. It presented Miguel Cabrera in a new light — that of teacher, and, considering how much Mark has taught me about what life should be about, I continue to find its lesson fitting (and helpful!).
And though I often refer to Mr. Johanna Mahmud as “the man who introduced me to the glories of the Deftones” and “the guy who schooled me on the NBA and proved why I should be madly in love with Derek Rose”, I still have room to refer to him as “the guy who writes Setting the Mahmud“! Dude puts the “tit” in titillating with every piece. The last article he wrote was inspiring, if only because he found a way to get a naked Yu Darvish, an ugly sweater wearing
Johnny Matt Damon and a crying Paula Deen all in one place; but, like Al, I have to admit that there’s real brilliance in his Theo-fied Arthurisms. Still, I’m a sucker for equating dead people to the performances of Adam Dunn and Miguel Tejada. Good work, good sir.
Meanwhile, no year-end applause would be complete without a nod to my longtime friend and confidant, Mr. Allen Krause. Known for his cynical twists on the political establishment and undying love of all things Detroit Tigers, it has been a pleasure to write on his wing. Sometimes he’s so “on” that he finds literary genius in imagery. Indeed, that endearing Krausian wit is often highlighted by rational thought. Sometimes it points out the un-fact-checked obvious, other times it gets serious, with a real call for responsibility. And, just in case you think Mr. Krause’s Libertarian-bashing makes him a soulless, automated Obamatron, this reflective piece will convince you otherwise.
But when it comes to knockin’ ’em outta the interwebs park, I have to kowtow to the RSBS Presents series. The brainchild of Mr. Krause, RSBS Presents has enlightened us on the finer points of fandom and how to stay classy while reminding us that, ultimately, positivity has upside during times of turmoil. But the best of them all was learning how to score a Republican. And here I thought it involved finding Jesus and quoting Alex P. Keaton.
Happy Christmas, Merry Hanukkah and long live King Kwanzaa!
Okay, technically it was more of a catfight than a bidding war, but I guarantee you it was fierce. I was in college at the time, and I somehow duped two girls into believing I was A-list boyfriend material. A gnarly girlpocalypse ensued.
It was awesome.
Then there was also the time in middle school where, for a small fee of one US American dollar, I would open up my father’s Playboy collection for viewing, all in the name of health and sex education, of course.
But I’ve never been Yu Darvish-ed before. I mean, I’ve never had a bunch of folks throwing MAD MONEY at me just for the opportunity to negotiate a contract. I know, I know, it’s hard to believe, but Nolan Ryan has never gone all in on my ass…ets. My assets. That’s what I meant to say.
Personally, I cannot WAIT to see Yu Darvish in action. I’ve been salivating at his proposed Major League entry since the ’09 WBC and now it looks like I may finally get my wish. Picture a 2012 season with an Adam Wainwright, a Stephen Strasburg AND a Yu Darvish!?!?!? Somebody douse me with Gatorade!
Meanwhile, if Yu’s people are any good, then they got their Newt Gingrich on before teams put in their final bids. You know it, I know it and the American people know it: no one sells access like the Grand Old Party.
Oh the Dems do it too.
Ron Paul. That is all.
And don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Admit it. It may be Monday, but your mind is already on Thursday — Thanksgiving — the one day of the year where your sole responsibility is to eat yourself into a coma, sprawl out on the couch and watch football for 7 hours while catnapping as necessary.
You get all of that for the small price of being thankful.
And what do I have to be thankful for this year?
I’m thankful for the 2011 Cardinals. For the second time in six years I’m bragging about being a champion. And I got to be a part of it by going to the first two games. HOT DANG!
I’m thankful that, as always, whenever the Cubs triumph (Theo) they also manage to fail (Zambrano).
I’m thankful that Rick Perry has disappointed, that Herman Cain has self-destructed and Sarah Palin has invisiblized.
I’m thankful that I think I can get away with making up words.
But most of all, I’m thankful that I’ve never been punched by Mike Tyson.
Happy Thanksgiving Week Monday!