Tagged: Mascots

If Baseball is Religion….

fatwa.jpgSometimes I wish I was a baseball scholar and could then issue baseball fatwas.  Fatwas are such useful tools.  Look at their history.

Don’t like Salman Rushdie’s books?  Issue a fatwa allowing for his death.  Don’t like the intermingling of the sexes in educational institutions?  Issue a fatwa allowing for the death of those who okayed it.

I’m not saying all fatwas inspire quite such lunacy and, in fact, despite its modern connotation, a fatwa usually has more to do with the mundane elements of everyday life than anything else. 

But, if you take it just a little ways past the line (or way over as in the case of the two I already mentioned), it gets your name out there and lets you make some bold statements.  And since nowadays it doesn’t even appear that you have to be a recognized authority to issue a fatwa, I see that as an opening up of the field to just about anyone.  With that in mind, here are my first few baseball fatwas:

Starting Kyle Farnsworth is Justification for Losing Your Franchise
Yes, I realize this affects the Tigers just as much as it does the Yankees, Cubs and Royals but at least the Tigers and Yankees never seriously considered this option.  As the baseball ascetic, St. Allen of Michigan has brought to our attention many times, Farnsworth is a huge bag of suck and it’s time there were consequences.

Pink Hats Should not be Allowed Into nor Sold in Stadiums
I have mentioned this before but this is my first time codifying the decree.  There is no reason to feminize the sport.  If you can’t appreciate the game for what it is and need a pink hat to get you to the park, maybe it’s better if you stayed home.  Pink is for cotton candy, baby girls and prom dresses, not baseball hats.

Songbirds are Unacceptable Mascots and Their Fans Deserve Ridicule
Look, there are hardcore birds like Eagles and Falcons and then there are pansy birds like Blue Jays, Orioles and Cardinals.  You can try to blame it on the owner or tradition but you’re still the one wearing a fancy pigeon on your clothing.  I’m even open to extending this fatwa to fans of franchises named after baby animals.  Would you cheer for a team if they were called the Puppies?  The why would you cheer for the Cubs?  Marlins may be fish but they can put up a fight.  And if you think that Rays aren’t dangerous, you might ask Steve Irwin for a second opinion.

So, there you have it.  My first three baseball fatwas.  Now, let the arguments in baseball jurisprudence begin.



The (Semi-Sober) View from My Couch

al bundy.jpgYeah, I wear a pinky ring.  So what?  I’m a made man and it’s the “company” rule.

And yeah, I have a Microsoft Zune… and no witty excuse other than to say, well, I got a good deal.

Yet to challenge my masculinity based on these attributes, Mr. Krause, is quite uncharacteristic, even for a flip-flopping self-loathing nihilist Tiger fan like yourself.

2006, my friend.  2006.

Still, this low blow to my sexuality got me wondering: do I really come off as a pansy?

So on Tuesday night I bought myself a case of MGD, stuck my hand in my shorts and plopped down on the couch to watch six hours of baseball.  I even avoided eating and shaving — two things I try to do at least once a week.

And this is what I learned:

Brandon Phillips doesn’t care how many times Miguel Montero says “mercy”; he’s still beatin’ that dude’s ^ss:

brandon phillips miguel montero.jpgIf Gabe Kapler expects to catch the Oriole Bird, he will need a bigger glove (or a machete):

gabe kapler.jpgNo matter what the situation, Prince Fielder always looks ready to eat you:

prince fielder hungry.jpgCarlos Lee’s lamaze classes are finally paying off:

carlos lee pregnant.jpgAnd the most important thing…

Ignorance is bliss… unless you have no business being naked in public; that’s just plain cruel (and stereotypical Met fan behavior):

mets fan streaker.jpgNow who’s the man!?!  Eh?  I am a manly man… grrrr… and now that I have proven my masculinity, please excuse me; I have to catch up on The Hills.

Hate me ‘cuz I wear the pinky rings; just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.



(Images courtesy of the Associated Press and Getty Images)

RSBS TV: 2009 NL East Preview

Produced, shot and edited by Atonal Studios.

Special thanks to Theo Roll.

Very special thanks to Youppi, the vaguely effeminate mascot of the late great Montreal Expos for giving hope to French Canadians worldwide… okay, maybe not worldwide, but you get the idea.

(For best playback results, watch in High Quality)

Affirmative Inaction!

With the issue of race dominating the headlines this week, I felt it my civic duty to address an all-too-often overlooked issue that has been increasingly detrimental to the game of baseball and society as a whole.  It is a matter that has been consistently neglected by both casual fans and executive suits, the media and the players.  Frankly, bringing it up now, in this forum, at a time when our country is in great need of healing from past and present atrocities, I must admit that I fear for my life.

But somebody has to say something.  Because grave inequalities saturate our stadiums from the east coast to the west coast, in red states and in blue states, which sorta leaves out Canada, but they’re guilty of sins too!  Fear not, baseball fans, for I may be but one, but I am one for all. 

And sacrifice is needed.

Ladies and gentlemen of this great nation, there are six birds currently employed by Major League Baseball.  You will find them in St. Louis, Pittsburgh, San Diego, Washington D.C., Baltimore and Toronto (that’s in Canada).

Ladies and gentlemen of this great nation, there are six monsters currently employed by Major League Baseball.  You will find monsters in Cleveland, Boston, Tampa Bay, Cincinnati, Atlanta and Chicago (Southside).

While it saddens me that our nation’s ignorance towards the fact that the privileged birds and monsters of the world are hoarding a great percentage of the jobs in baseball, I am happy to say some minority groups have been able to worm themselves into arguably comfortable positions.  That is not to say it has been easy.  Being a sea creature is not easy, folks.  The pain, the ridicule, all that time spent out of water in the hot summer sun.  That is not an easy life by any means.  But you won’t hear a complaint from the fabulous Lou Seal of San Francisco or Billy the Marlin in Miami.  You also won’t hear complaints from the two felines with steady jobs, even though they endure countless acts of ridicule themselves as victims of a vindictive world.  Paws used to be the most exciting thing at Comerica until Leyland came in and that pizza man started buying all those rich ballplayers.  And of course, who could forget the spiteful slangs of hate by the disenfranchised snake population directed towards D. Baxter the Bobcat, icon of the Arizona Diamondbacks?   

Though outnumbered for now, it is apparent that at least the sea creatures and the felines of the world are making great strides towards a brighter tomorrow.  And MLB is slowly rising to the call.

But ladies and gentlemen, this is 2008. 

And it is embarrassing to report that there is only one, (yes I said just one), phanatic employed throughout the entire game of baseball. 

I know, I know, phanatics are Republicans.  I know.  But ladies and gentlemen of this great nation, Republicans are living things too.  Republicans have feelings thoughts heartbeats.  Republicans have mouths to feed.  In fact, republicans have much to offer this world, including running around on ballfields pulling down players’ pants and dancing the macarena on the tops of dugouts. 

Ladies and gentlemen, it is time we stand up against these injustices.  It is time we recognize that phanatics/republicans are just as capable of making fools out of themselves (in fact, much more capable) as birds, monsters, sea creatures and felines. 

Consider yourself informed.  You now have no excuse.

Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.



P.S.  Look for The Filibuster this weekend, the new weekly segment where Al and I jar one another with provocative questions in an attempt to get each other angry, or at least thinking about something in an opinionated way.