We have good news and bad news over here at RSBS. The good news is that the people of Venezuela could soon see themselves with an actual government instead of a cult of personality. The bad news is, RSBS could soon have to find a new baseball loving world leader it can make fun of. Sure, Fidel is still out there but he’s more of a hermit than a leader these days. And other baseball-crazy countries seem to have more pressing issues to attend to which means less time to turn their countries into Bolivarian Republics or anything along those lines. No, I’m afraid that when Hugo goes, the crazy goes with him.
So, RSBS is putting out the call. Help us find a new world leader (or at least some sort of opinion-maker) who loves baseball but is just a little loose in the cranial wiring. My first thought was Mitt Romney but since he might possibly be a unicorn, I don’t know as though he’s a viable option. Hillary Clinton seemed good, too, but it’s hard to play nice with someone who claims to be both a Yankees and Cubs fan. Granted, that’s still better than Bill Richardson’s claim to simultaneous Red Sox and Yankees fandom.
It might just be that we’ve hit a cold streak. World leaders love soccer and whatever sport their national team is good at. Baseball? It’s just too much of a niche. But hey, there’s always Japan!
It’s official. The Battle Royale known as the 2012 US Presidential Election will pit the titleholder, Barack Obama, against the challenger, Mitt Romney. But that presents a problem for Mitt. He won the primary by being the least bad choice and through blatant pandering to the base. That probably won’t work for the general. The fact of the matter is, Mitt is looking for ideas and he’s looking for them anywhere. So, why not turn to Obama’s last real challenger:
That’s not a terrible idea. Kind of unfortunate for a Mormon, though. Hold on a second. I know! Maybe man’s best friend can help out:
Uh, nope, not so much.
Wait a minute. I’ve got it! Since Florida is important and the Republicans aren’t doing so hot with the Latino vote, why not kill two birds with one stone. I’m sure Ozzie Guillen would be willing to help out:
Oh boy. That’s gonna hurt. Ozzie just turned himself into Florida kryptonite.
Actually, you know what, maybe Hillary wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Couldn’t hurt to try again, right?
There’s always drinking…
The way our brains work, we attempt to apply a narrative or causality to events, even after the fact, to justify what happened and why it happened. We look for points where the momentum shifts and where all of a sudden something that was unthinkable becomes inevitable.
Baseball is full of these moments. Of course Jeff will tell you all about game 6 of this year’s World Series and no one will ever stop talking about the Bartman play in Chicago or Buckner’s famous muff. Teams didn’t win or lose on those plays but it changed the flow of the game and, in retrospect, we consider it to be the dramatic reversal in the narrative.
Politics follows a similar course. In the 2008 Democratic primary, Hilary was inevitable but then Obama won Iowa and the narrative shifted. Sure, the changes may be due more to organization or groundwork but we prefer the grand, sweeping narrative and we look for game-changing moments.
This week’s Republican debate in Michigan offered the new narrative of choice for the primary season: Perry’s final flub. For a campaign that had already hit a rough patch (polling behind Herman Cain? Seriously?), they needed a strong showing. Here’s what they got:
Granted, the last time a Texas governor became president, serious doubts surrounded his mental capacity. And some pundits even point out that Perry’s damage control may have helped humanize him for the voters. But if Perry does end up losing the nomination as now seems likely, the narrative will state that this moment was what nailed shut the coffin. That’s just how our brain’s work. And how Perry’s didn’t.
For me, the biggest difference between being 21 years old and 31 years old, is that at 31 years old I realize I don’t know everything there is to know about the world… most things, yes. Everything? Not a chance.
So that’s why I get so giggly when I learn something new. Always be learning… that’s my motto. And believe me, folks, last week was full of virgin information.
The Pirates Have Run Out of Future Stars to Trade Away
Yeah, yeah, you can make a strong case for Andrew McCutchen being that guy, but the Pirates have long said he’s a keeper. I’m talkin’ about the Aramis Ramirezes… the Nate McClouths… the Freddy Sanchezes. Okay, maybe not the Freddy Sanchezes. But you get what I’m sayin’.
Sarah Palin Thinks She Knows What Having “Cojones” Is All About
I can tell ya this much: those with cojones don’t quit their jobs as governor mid-term. And they never use the phrase “hopey-changey”. And they tend to not make up words, then compare themselves to Shakespeare. Believe that.
The Yankees Have a Death Wish
How else does one explain their trading for Kerry Wood? Look, I know Joba’s been bad and all… but Kerry Wood? Seriously? The Boss is rolling over, y’all.
A Chelsea Clinton Wedding Does Not A Camelot Make
Look, I know Bill Clinton is cool and all. Hell, some might even say he’s… sexy. But at the same time, no one would ever use the word ‘sexy’ to describe Hillary. And Chelsea? Exactly. Let’s just agree that this whole Clinton shindig was more proof that what US America really longs for is ultimate regression: give us back our king; make us slaves to royal inbreeds; let the pope wreck the world with his medieval wordview. I, frankly, will not be a part of it. I will finish my spaceship and move to Betelgeuse, where I belong. But I’m taking my collection of scorecards with me.
And, of course… I also learned that…
It’s So Hard to Say Goodbye… To Ryan Ludwick
Admittedly, Luddy ain’t no Albert. He ain’t no Yadi. He ain’t no Waino. But he is Luddy… and over the last few years we’ve really learned to appreciate his bat, his patience, his gamesmanship. And we’re gonna miss that. Ludwick has always been one of those quiet warriors — a stoic gamer who never shies from giving his best effort, even when that means playing through pain. But the Cardinals needed pitching. And with the outfield logjam set up by the excellent play of John Jay, there wasn’t room for Ludwick anyway. The Padres are gettin’ a boost. We’re gettin’ the arm we need. And everyone ought to be happy (except for the Indians who currently reside in baseball hell).
We’re gonna miss ya, Ryan.
Don’t hate me.
‘Cuz I’m right.
(Special thanks to C for the top photo)
Feisty factions of conservative right wing constituents are finally going to get what they have always wanted. Indeed, after a series of anti-republican films exploiting the low-blow antics of unsavory characters such as Richard Nixon and George W. Bush reached wide audiences in 2008, the GOP is all smiles knowing the biggest, baddest politico docudrama to ever hit the big screen is well on its way!
Special Relationship, the upcoming film starring Julianne Moore as democratic juggernaut Hillary Clinton and Dennis Quaid as the always promiscuous Bill Clinton, will explore the finer points of Slick Willy’s extramarital affair with Monica Lewinsky and his wife’s subsequent decision to stick by his side (so she could run for the New York senate, and eventually the presidency).
Moore is a decent actress. I see her pulling off this role of a lifetime no problem. Quaid as Clinton? What a wonderful opportunity to repeat his 1987 world-class performance from Inner Space! I can hardly wait, folks!
And the Hollywood hoopla doesn’t just end there, dear readers. I am super excited about some other upcoming films that are in the early stages of development:
The Little MVP Who Could: The Dustin Pedroia Story
Starring Macaulay Culkin as Pedroia, this film aims to highlight the undying will of small stature phenoms on baseball diamonds all across the galaxy. Also features Manny Ramirez as the evil space alien predator intent on disrupting all things Red Sox until the bitter intergalactic end.
Jacked! The Alex Rodriguez Story
Pre-production on this film has been stalled until Alex can get his entire story straight. While the writers continue to amend the script as best they can, more problems seem eminent as Vin Diesel, originally slated to star as A-Rod, pulled out of the project noting that not even he would subject himself to performance enhancing drugs, whether his trusted cousin bought them in the D.R. or not.
Yeah, I Hit .213 Last Year, What’s It to Ya, Buddy? The Khalil Greene Story
Sean Penn stars in this not-so-action-packed drama about how decent defense often allows a poor offensive performer to wallow in the ongoing apathy that is the San Diego Padres (and later, St. Louis Cardinals).
Where Have I Gone? The Rafael Palmeiro Story
In perhaps the most poignantly cast role of the century, Tony Danza portrays PED-raging anti-hero Rafael Palmeiro not because he looks like him (he doesn’t) but because his career is as equally irrelevant.
And finally, what promises to be a most entertaining entanglement of hopes, dreams, egos and narcissism:
Me, Me, Me! The Curt Schilling Story
Posthumously directed by Stanley Kubrick, this tale of unfettered vainglory explores the tired, whiny affectations of one number 38 through standard Kubrick mind-busts like a minimalistic score and plenty of drawn-out steady-cam shots. Accurately portraying the role of Schilling will be the outspoken and very homosexual Nathan Lane. Who else to better force Curt into yet another self-consuming fit of rage than a flamboyantly gay ultra-liberal left wing Broadway icon with plenty of career left in him?
Yes, my friends, going to the movies has never seemed so good.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Since I am not the same erudite fount of loquaciousness as my friend Mr. Lung, I’m going to keep this brief. Really, all I have is two questions.
Number one, when did the Padres become the Florida Marlins? At least the Marlins won a couple championships before their fire sales. Seriously guys, Jake Peavy and Khalil Greene? I prefer to look on the bright side with this, though. What I’m hoping is that the Padres will decide to replenish by adding some dead weight from the Tigers. No more Trevor Hoffman? How about some Kyle Farnsworth in lieue? Too bad Renteria is already heading to San Fran or you could have him, too.
The other although no less important question is, how does a search for “wemen” in any form lead back to this blog? I’ll grant you that we talk a lot about women. Erin Andrews, Alison Stokke, Hillary Clinton. All three of these names receive a lot of press in the baseball/political forum that is RSBS. But wemen? I don’t know even know what that means.
Now, I have no answer for the first question although I hope that my scenario plays out because I really can’t stand the thought of Farnsworth coming out of the Detroit bullpen with tears in his eyes all next season. The second question needs a little more thought, though, mainly because of what these “wemen” are doing.
Why do people come here looking for men being hit in the balls? Granted, Jeff and I may bust each others’ balls from time to time but hitting them is another matter all together. That’s just wrong.
But the more important piece of this keyword search enigma is the “Attractive Chinese Wemen” aspect, namely, where are they and why was I not made aware of this? If there are attractive Chinese females being hidden within the RSBS universe, I feel I should be privy to this information. So, Mr. Lung, time to come clean, eh? No more secrets. Otherwise, I might have to send some of these “wemen” after your balls.
Sixteen-year-old Eri Yoshida, a knuckleball throwin’ femme phenom, recently became the first woman ever drafted in the Japanese Professional Baseball League — which would most probably make her the first professional female baseball player in an all-male league (I think; our staff is working on this one).
Eri, a studious highschooler with a keen eye for Red Sox geriatric Tim Wakefield and his trademark knuckleballing mechanics, has proven herself quite the asset amongst her male counterparts and thus looks forward to breaking in as a rookie with the Kobe 9 Cruise this spring.
In lieu of these developments, we at RSBS (namely Me) would like to take a moment to congratulate Eri Yoshida on her groundbreaking achievement by memorializing the trailblazing feats of women sports icons both past and present because… well, because we can and we should.
And we will.
Helene Robison Britton
Inheriting the St. Louis Cardinals from her uncle, Stanley Robison, in 1911, Ms. Britton broke ground as the first woman in the history of the world to own a Major League Baseball club. During her six year reign at the top of the Cardinals organization, the team managed an average winning percentage of .441, a number which — in a round about world — popped up again in 2008 as the batting average for hitters facing the Cardinals bullpen.
Okay, so she’s not much of an athlete, but she sure knows how to piss a lot of people off with her baseball-related antics. Sen. Clinton’s meandering baseball allegiances have long been the seed of the People’s frustration. America may not see in just black and white anymore, but we die-hard baseball fans tend to be staunch conservatives when it comes to flagrantly waving about one’s fan preference. Don’t get me wrong: I sincerely respect Senator Clinton. She had a great run and she would’ve gotten my vote if the desire for change in Washington wasn’t burning so strong in my heart. I voted for that change. And how am I (and all US Americans) being rewarded? By seeing the same old Washington insiders posted in the highest offices under the President.
Excuse me while I go stab myself.
Super hot woman who knows more about sports than I do? Not much else to say.
Now that the dust has somewhat settled, let me commend Gov. Palin on being the laughingstock of modern politics. Not quite the Dan Quayle Potato-Head, still, she provided plenty a laugh throughout the campaign. She’s worthy of commendation because she stuck it out and never got too rattled (unless you count that Katie Couric interview, SNL, et al). As an avid hunter, basketball player and all around “hot mamma”, I bet she’d be a pretty sturdy fireballer on the mound late in a game. The Cardinals need some bullpen help. I’m just sayin’…
*Drool… drool… drool…
What? She didn’t make the Olympics? She doesn’t play baseball? Do I even care?
Just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
As if your inferior baseball acumen were not enough to cause acid reflux among dear readers galore, Mr. Krause, you just had to top it off by insulting a fellow US American and subsequent baseball god: the Albert Pujols.
“reknowned Mexican wrestler, Albert Pujols, won the NL MVP…”
— Allen Krause, Fenway to Foggy Bottom
What!?! Look, Mr. Krause, you’re extremely lucky that you live in the safety of our nation’s capital. Slinging slapdash remarks like that could get your legs broken — and I don’t mean by me, but by the 10 million Dominicans who now want your head on a plate having desecrated their larger than life island hero.
Mexico does not equal the Dominican Republic.
And besides, I think we all know that A.P. moved to the States at an early age and found his stroke in Independence, MO of all places.
Set free thy hate, groundling!
NL MVP Albert Pujols bleeds US American red, white and blue just like you and I do. In fact, he scored a perfect 100 on his citizenship test.
Can you say that, Al?
No. Yet you find it in your heart to say you could “care less” about Pujols and Pedroia’s crowning achievements.
Well, lahdy frickin’ da, Mr. Krause. You are a letch. I didn’t want to believe it; but you are.
On the one hand, you have who could quite possibly be the perfect baseball player in Albert; on the other you have a paragon of scrappy overachievement in Pedroia.
And you could “care less”.
That’s just… well, it’s just… un-American.
You probably also care less about our modern day messiah turning to that same old Washington crap to fill his cabinet posts. I understand fist bumps and shout-outs to fellow Dems who helped you get elected, but is Hillary Clinton really the “change” America needs? I’m not convinced.
We, the People, did the right thing and put Obama in office based on his platform of Hope and Change politics. In turn, I believe We, the People, deserve to see that plan put in to action. With the pantheon of bad news coming out of the world markets and my downtrodden colleague posting ill-aimed remarks at the greatest living baseballer on earth, I would like to hang my proverbial hat on at least something positive.
Like this: I, Jeffery Lung, agree with Mitt Romney.
And no, that’s not a joke, my friends. In fact, his recent opinion-editorial in the New York Times is the smartest thing I’ve read since Rilke’s Letters to a Young Poet.
Now that’s smart!
So go ahead, Al, hate me for siding with a Mitt on this one. Hate me for respecting the magnificence of Albert Pujols and Dustin Pedroia. But goddamn it, don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
‘Tis the season for MLB Awards, fa la la la la, la la la la. And what a bunch of awards. Jeff is happy because reknowned Mexican wrestler, Albert Pujols, won the NL MVP and some parts of the east coast are happy because the shortest, hardest-working man in baseball, Dustin Pedroia, picked himself up an MVP award, too. Me, I couldn’t care less.
Yep, if Albert hadn’t been in St. Louis this year, they probably would have finished with 90 something losses. And Pedroia hits a lot bigger than he looks. But it just isn’t that exciting. It’s nothing like Jimmy Rollins fueling the Phillies improbable run into the playoffs last year. Even Alex Rodriguez, last year’s winner in the AL, felt like a more justifiable pick compared to the scrappy but ultimately undeserving Pedroia. Don’t get me wrong, both winners are incredible baseball players. But forgive me for being underwhelmed.
Who would I have picked? Well, to be honest with you, I’m not sure. There’s not really anyone who sticks out in my mind. In fact, I think this is one of those years when it would be better if MLB had the option of designating no winner at all.
In a lot of ways, this whole thing mirrors another tough choice being made right now. Every four years the new (or re-elected) president has to decide who his chief diplomat will be and it appears that this year’s choice is the junior senator from New York. Once again, forgive me for being underwhelmed. To be fair, though, I wasn’t really all that impressed with any of the other candidates, either. Bill Richardson? I’ve already shared my thoughts on him. John Kerry? I’m sorry but I can’t think of one person I would less want running an agency devoted to talking through problems and avoiding embarrassing verbal slip-ups. Other front runners like Chuck Hagel have taken themselves out of contention which means that the task of managing one of the government’s largest bureaucracies will most likely fall to soon-to-be President Obama’s vanquished rival from the primaries. I’m not sure what I’m feeling right now but it sure isn’t awe.
I freely admit that I’m a glass half-full kind of guy. And you should feel free to disagree with me on my conclusions here. But, as my friend Mr. Lung likes to say, don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
That’s right, dear readers, Albert Pujols is the National League MVP — again — and most deservedly, as this is the A.P. whom the critics said wouldn’t make it through 2008 without having season-ending surgery. This is the A.P. who, without much protection, rarely saw good pitches — ever. This is the A.P. who was forced to bear the enormous weight of a subpar bullpen with a penchant for blowing big leads late and an organization run by a pompous penny-pinching pariah pleasantly pleased with mediocrity.
While I am ecstatic for my man-crush’s crowning achievement, the nihilist in me cannot stop seeing this as yet another detrimental development in John Mozeliak’s quiet quest to do nothing in the way of spending dollars to put together a true contender in 2009.
But what do I know?
I certainly didn’t know that Nate McLouth had any business getting MVP votes, but some writer (most probably a pissed off Pittsburghian with a propensity for pot-smoking) thought it’d be a funny afterthought to include him in the big picture.
I found it… um… awkward.
Speaking of awkward, never before have I seen two grown men sit down together with such unease as I did today when the president-elect met with Sen. McCain for what appeared to be a publicity stunt meant to mend the dissonance between the two camps. Sure. Sounds good. But McCain had to go and bring up what is quickly becoming known as the Annhilation of the Bears, which immediately put Obama (and subsequently me) in a very, very uncomfortable place. I was sorta hoping that Barack would have had the good sense to remind the senator from Arizona about Dennis Green’s post-game meltdown a couple years ago after that torrid Monday Night game in which we all found out:
Well, the Bears still are who we thought they were: not good enough; but you didn’t have to go and bring it up, John McCain. You see, I thought this meeting was supposed to be about healing and planning and bipartisanship. But since you decided it wasn’t, how ’bout those ’08 Diamondbacks?
Regardless, I’m not going to let another Republican rain on my parade of good feelings abound.
Albert Pujols — the most fascinating man in sports — is the NL MVP.
So eat it!
And don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.