It takes two to make a thing go right!!!!!! It takes two to make it out of sight!!!
This is it. The end of an era. The end of days. The Blizzard of Oz has left us. The vampire/werewolf is on Florida time now. And for what it’s worth, I will miss him spewing his goo bazooka all over this town.
I’m not a White Sox fan but I LOVED Ozzie Guillen. He brought joy to my life, in some sort of way, every day. And though he didn’t win with this 2011 team of crap, he did win the press conference battle yesterday.
For years I wanted to tell he and Kenny Williams to GET A ROOM. But it’s all over now. At least it ended this way, with Oz being cordial, and Williams sounding like a prick. Again. Luckily no one came in with machetes and UZIs, waxing off the media and staff who threw Oz under the bus.
KW should have brought a gavel to his silly presser. My mom told me you can’t eat love. Kenny didn’t necessarily lie in his press conference; he just massaged the truth. He acted like he had just assisted in the birth of a foal, that he was pure in all of this.
HE CREATED THIS MESS OF A TEAM.
The Williams/Guillen family let things fester. They were not huggers. He and Oz had Easter egg hunts that turned into knife fights. Everyone should have anticipated this sunny day that would never be.
Maybe Ozzie will go all country in Miami. Maybe he’ll change the culture down there. Mermaid boobies will be cool! Plus, the new stadium won’t have those elevators that used to scare him on Wednesdays. SUPERSTITIONS! Any chance he wanders the streets next year and asks people if they recognize him?
Once he gets to Florida, Ozzie can go back to carrying a handgun in the infield. Are we cowabunga on this? FUN FOR EVERYONE!
I think Reinsdorf sneaked up on Ozzie and asked him if he liked surprises. But Ozzie is allergic to horses.
In the end, the Marlins needed a man with a long stroke. And they just got one.
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It’s Math. Don’t Fight It.
Clint Hurdle isn’t here to save you and lead the White Sox to 20 wins in a row to finish out the season a la the Rockies in 2000 whatever year that was. Jim Thome isn’t walking through that door to be the anti-Adam Dunn. I’m sorry. Just accept it.
As of Tuesday, via Baseball Prospectus, the White Sox have an 11.8% chance of making the playoffs. The Detroit Tigers have an 86.8% chance. If you’re a Sox fan and want to hold onto that 11%, that’s your business. I just don’t want to hear about it. I know they’ve been just good enough in this awful division to keep us interested, but it’s over.
TOO STRESSFUL. THIS TEAM GIVES ME CHIGGERS!!!
If I have to listen to one more smelly Sox fan chewin his Kodiak, botherin me while I’m TRYIN TO PEE, sayin stuff like “Hey der guy… we’re goin sweep these next few series and we will be der in the end… darrrrr…”
Well, you know what? BITE ME. CUZ IT’S OVAAA…
This team started out so bad that the whole inching their way back up possibility almost felt real. I even got on board, thinking that at some point they’d stop winning three games and losing four. I assumed Adam Dunn would have to, at some point, regress to the mean and start hitting again. I even thought Alex Rios and Gordon Beckham might stop resembling human bowel movements.
As for Ozzie Guillen and Kenny Williams? Those two guys are pathetic. A once great union of minds is now in complete ruin. They go back and forth at each other like a homeless man’s Martin and Steinbrenner. Word is the Sox have already started looking for managerial candidates and compensation from the Marlins for Ozzie. I know sometimes the Oz man sounds like an ignorant mofo, but he’s a hell of a manager if the Sox can keep him. But if there’s any chance of Guillen staying with the team he and Kenny have to stop being Lindsey Lohan and Samantha Ronson.
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“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…
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Since I enjoy the weekends almost as much as I enjoy watching the sCrUBBIES plummet to 21 games under .500, I better get rid of all this heat-induced angst now, so I can enjoy the next two days in peace. That means y’all better get ready for some STOP ITs!
In the old days, being a Big Leaguer meant being the best you could be. It meant putting forth maximum effort, doing things the right way and positioning one’s self to win. After all, that’s the goal in baseball. To win. Of course, you could also be lame, like a very comfortable Aramis Ramirez, who is more inclined to settle for being a creaky cog in a wheel of crap at Wrigley Field than go somewhere his talents could actually be of some use. He cites his “family” as the reason, but that’s stupid. It’s two months. And you’re a friggin’ millionaire, dude. So STOP IT! Just STOP IT! Go win something. Nothing infuriates me more than talented people wasting their talents.
The White Sox
Speaking of stupid, how long will Kenny Williams & Co. allow the $14 million strikeout machine to clog up any and all paths to winning?!? Letting a marquis player work through a slump makes sense when the slump is… y’know, a slump. But when it’s AN ENTIRE SEASON it’s time to make a change. STOP IT, White Sox! You bombard me with your 2011 slogan of “All In” and the only thing you’re “all in” to is a giant, heaping pile of suck.
I love how we Chicagoans complain all winter long about how cold it is, then when summer comes along people are suddenly surprised they’re frying eggs on the sidewalk. Chicago in the summer is HOT. It has always been hot. So stop acting like you didn’t know this. Same thing goes for baseball players. It’s been hot during the summer for the entirety of baseball history. In fact, the old timers (REAL baseball men) used to wear WOOL UNIFORMS so STOP CRYING ABOUT IT, baseball players. You make millions of dollars playing a game I’d do Precious for to play, so quit bitching about the heat and just concentrate on doing your job.
And, as if all of the above isn’t enough, apparently we here in US America can’t even get our own pastimes right. No, I’m not talking about baseball. I’m talking about pizza.
Yeah, our pizza experience has been outsourced to India too. And, surprise, surprise… they do it better:
The Battle of Juan Pierre and How the Marlins Won the War
It’s obvious what has to happen, but too many heads, egos, and wangs are involved.
Everyone has a soft spot for J.P. , but the rift between Ozzie Guillen and Kenny Williams has us watching a veteran limp to the end of his career like Ol Yeller. You have a GM and manager pillow fighting when they could be on the same page about the players they have.
Our memories of Juan Pierre are warm and fuzzy, but, statistically speaking in weighted OBP and WAR, he’s the third worst player in baseball (after Chone Figgins and Raul Ibanez) and should be cut. He makes outs, gets picked off, drops fly balls, kills his team every day, but he’s a sweetheart and everyone loves Juan.
I feel sorry for Dayan.
I’m starting the Dayan Viciedo camp right now. We’ll have stables, a petting zoo and a FUN MIRROR.
Kenny is insisting that Ozzie isn’t ready to bring up Viciedo because he can’t handle the rookie. Huh? How much worse can he be than Juan Pierre? The issue is what do you do with the finality of the career of Pierre? Guillen’s loyalty to J.P. is getting out of hand. (This happens every season with Williams and Guillen.)
Viciedo is killing it in the minors and the blizzard of Oz and Kenny are screwing the Sox out of being better because of a sophomoric squabble that seems to have no end.
The locker room is getting torn apart because you have two players that should be benched, but only one of them can be cut because of the contract situation. If Adam Dunn was hitting, the Pierre issue would be muted.
This mess won’t be settled until the Oz man is managing the Marlins next year.
And so in this Podcast…
Jeff and Johanna welcome a paragon of baseball intelligentsia, Mr. Paul Lebowitz — the one and only Prince of New York! If you aren’t already reading the Prince’s daily column *here* or *here* then you probably should get on that. Like, right away. Or else. And if that ain’t enough, you can certainly follow him on Twitter too. To be honest, the man is too ruthless and too unfettered for you to not be paying attention to him… so the RSBS crew made sure to get him at his best. Among the titillating
topics of discussion: Jason Bay’s UZR, men left on base (LOB), Keith Hernandez’s hunches, BRAINS!!!!… the Lou Piniella Mailbag and much, much more!
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 the bomb shizzy, by the way. It’s available on iTunes and is posted regularly at Undercard Films.
**Image by Annette T. (Thanks, Annette!) Check out her sweet@ss blog!
Recorded Saturday , June 12, 2010
Prior to the 2009 season, one would not be in error by labeling me a bonafide St. Louis Cardinal Hiney Bird. Having not really addressed our bullpen woes of 2008, I seriously didn’t think the Redbirds had a chance at achieving anything this season.
Obviously, I was wrong. And I’ve apologized for that.
I did, however, look forward to an exciting new edition of my neighborhood Chicago White Sox. And, yes folks, it does happen (albeit rarely): I was wrong… again.
But I have to go out on a limb and defend Kenny Williams from Chicago Tribune reporter Phil Rogers who blamed much of the White Sox’s 2009 downfall on the trades of Nick Swisher and Javier Vazquez.
To quote the Hawk: “That’s just B.S.! B.S.! That’s just B.S.!”
Nick Swisher’s 2008 stint with the Sox was abysmal at best. He underachieved in every category except rambunctiousness per game. He was a shackle on the Sox’s youth movement and rumor had it that he was more interested in picking up chicks in the Viagra Triangle than he was picking up runners in scoring position.
Javi Vazquez never looked comfortable in the Chi. Sure he’d get ya lots of strikeouts, but he also gave up a bunch of runs; and with Gavin Floyd and John Danks on the horizon of being dominating starters, it made sense to move Javi (and his paycheck) to make more room.
But sometimes things don’t always work out (see Sarah Palin’s “political” career). The ’09 White Sox have wallowed in mediocrity while the Cardinals are set to win the NL Central Division crown.
You see, dear readers, baseball is so captivating, so riveting, so followable because there is no such thing as a sure thing. So to all you Hiney Birds (me included) here’s a lesson from possibly the world’s worst broadcaster:
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
“I don’t know nothin’ about nothin’, and I can prove it.”
— Ed “Butch” Panczko, ruthless Chicago gangster
It is the year 2009, dear readers, and I would think that by now, every single one of us has seen enough cop dramas on television to know that you never, ever, ever tell on yourself. You just don’t do it. Big Papi knows this. So does Roger Clemens. Why is it then that the Chicago White Sox — who reside not far from the famed warehouse district were body after lifeless body went to disappear forever — do not understand this golden rule of foul play?
First we watched as Bobby Jenks told the whole world that he purposely threw at Ian Kinsler — which netted him a $750 fine and a watchful eye from MLB brass — and now we have Ozzie Guillen himself blabbing to anyone who will listen that he’s out to bean anyone whom he suspects of throwing at his guys. What next? Kenny Williams owns up to jaywalking? Check.
Look, it’s one thing to protect your team and head-hunt in retaliation. Hell, in this game, it’s expected! But to openly admit that you are going to throw at people, to announce to everyone that you intend on hurting someone, to alert the league that you’re going to send a message… well, that is just plain irresponsible. And dumb.
Yep. Tell a story. Do the opposite. Leave ’em guessin’.
That, my friends, is the Chicago way.
Even political nimrod figurehead Rod Blagojevich knows this.
And he’s a Cubs fan.
What’s your excuse, White Sox?
Hate me ‘cuz I put it out there, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
(*Ozzie Guillen’s grill image courtesy of Da Bronx Bombers)
Indeed, after that long and winding baseball-politico season and the ominousness of losing every dime I’ve ever saved due to the current worldwide economic crisis, I deserved a damn vacation.
And vacation I did.
Which reminds me, don’t you just hate when you meet the perfect girl and you hit it off right away — so much so that you spend the entire day with her into the evening through the night and find out the next day that she’s your cousin?
Happens to me every year.
But that’s not what I want to focus on today. No. You see, dear readers, while on my vacation, I missed out on some very important happenings: like Gov. Sarah Palin‘s adamant cry to NBC’s Matt Lauer that during the campaign she never got involved with that “inside baseball stuff” that supposedly divided her camp from Sen. McCain’s.
Look, I don’t even pretend to know what she meant by calling it “inside baseball stuff” seeing how it had absolutely nothing to do with baseball; however, I can appreciate her obviously sentimental regard for greatest game on earth and implying that indeed, it’s complicated.
Because it is.
The coast is clear now, but how is it that the Cardinals were even considering a trade for Matt Holliday? A trade that would send away at least two (maybe more) of our most talented youngsters and leave us with a one-year rental of a player represented by Scott Boras? Has John Mozeliak officially lost his friggin’ mind?
The answer to that question is yes and I’m quite sure we St. Louis fans haven’t even seen the beginning of it. Stock up on the painkillers, folks; 2009 could be a long one.
And how is it that Lou Piniella received the Manager of the Year Award? Don’t get me wrong: I have nothing but respect for Sweet Lou and I admire his guile, but this year he did what he was supposed to do (sorta) which was manage an extremely talented, high-priced ball-club to a winning season. That’s like me getting rewarded for drinking beer and watching football on Sundays. That’s what I do, people!
The Cubs were on cruise control all season until October and Lou didn’t have to work nearly as hard as the likes of Tony LaRussa or Joe Torre to get the job done with less talent.
The one thing Lou was supposed to do this year (win playoff games) never happened. I see that as one thing and one thing only: failure. F-A-I-L-U-R-E.
On the other side of the Second City (my side), complications arise with Jermaine Dye and his future in a White Sox uniform. Rumor is: Kenny Williams wants to get some fresh legs in exchange for the veteran outfielder who had a resurgent season in 2008. I understand Williams’ point of view, but I’m pretty sure there will be rioting in the streets if Dye is traded away. Even more rioting if Big Fat Bobby Jenks is dealt (which is also floating around the rumormill).
Just let me know if and when that’s going to happen, Kenny, because I’ll make sure to be back in South Padre until the Southside firebombing lets up.
I suppose Gov. Palin was right. This “inside baseball stuff” is complicated. And I gotta hand it to the Republicans. They ran a
good laughable race. And the tides seem to be turning for the GOP: Mark Foley, while still making excuses for his pedophilia, is at least speaking to the media again; Alaska has more problems than just Palinmania; and Norm Coleman has a 209 vote lead (as I write this).
Like my boy Tupac used to always say: “Ya gotta keep ya head up.”
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.