When I was a kid I was an avid collector of baseball caps. New, old, rare. If it was a baseball cap, I wanted it, mostly so I could make an awesome rap video someday where every jump-cut had me donning a different logo.
The lyrics are NSFW, but you could just as easily turn the volume down and watch those beautiful baseball caps roll. There’s even an ALTERNATE RED-BRIMMED EXPOS CAP YO!!! Holy DeLino DeShields!!!
The Filibuster will take this week off, but if you wanna see Mr. Krause and I squirm, hit us up with a filibuster question by commenting or emailing us at RSBSBlog@gmail.com.
Is the hype to be believed? Could the Nationals actually contend this year?
Could they actually contend? Hmm… does watching a pitcher’s duel strike me with uncontainable bonerjamz? HELL to the YES, my friend! There are 159 games left in the season, and the Nats could win ’em all!
Or not. Still, this is not your embarrassing Expo leftover Natinal squad of old; rather, this is a team with bona fide pitching, timely bats and a revered sage at the helm! Do you think Davey Johnson thinks they can contend? I’d bet my 1986 eight-ball wrapper collection he does.
And why not? Without Howard and Utley for a good stretch, the Phillies find themselves offensively challenged. The Braves, still salty from their epic fail of 2011, certainly don’t have all the answers. I’m not convinced the Marlins are really any better than they were before they decided to blind us with ugly and the Mets are the Mets (though don’t sleep on them either, as a .500 season is not entirely out of the question).
The truth is, the NL East isn’t as predictable as it used to be. And the addition of another wild card team makes it possible to hope a little longer.
But the number one reason why the Natinals have a legitimate shot at competing for a playoff spot this year is… The ONE.
Okay, wrong ONE. But believe me, to Stephen Strasburg, there is no spoon. Also taking the red pill this year are Gio Gonzalez, Jordan Zimmermann, Edwin Jackson, Ross Detwiler and (presumably) John Lannan. That’s one helluva starting rotation+.
When Bryce Harper eventually finds his way into the rabbit hole, there will be even MORE reason to respect the potential of the Washington Nationals (not to mention a tomfoolery fodder spike for Deadspin).
Would I put big money on the Nats now? Maybe not. Would I put money on them to be a cellar dweller? Absolutely not. This team could find its identity and they could do it as soon as now. They could be the ’11 D’backs or the ’08 Rays.
Better yet, they could be the 2012 Nationals. (see what I did there?)
Hate me ‘cuz I love Stephen Strasburg as if he were one of my own, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Have a topic you want to see us Filibuster? Send us your Filibuster questions by emailing RSBSblog@gmail.com or by commenting below.
It used to be that when people heard the word “Brooklyn,” they thought of the Dodgers and Jackie Robinson. The Bronx has the Yankees and all their history but there was something magical about the Brooklyn Dodgers. However, when Walter O’Malley uprooted and replanted the team about as far away from Brooklyn as you could probably get, it left a vacuum in the borough that had to be filled by something. Unfortunately, that void has been filled by something even more nefarious than the Mets or Yankees. Brooklyn has now become synonymous with “hipster.”
I’d like to see Brooklyn reclaim its past glory. This is the land of Robinson and Koufax but now it has become more associated with this:
No matter how you feel about New York and its boroughs, as a baseball fan that has to make you angry.
So I’m proposing that Jay-Z bring the Dodgers back to Brooklyn. He has already been working on getting the Nets out there so why not the Dodgers as well? Sure, I realize that it will mess up the divisions just as some sense of order has finally been restored. And combining a Brooklyn team with the Mets in Queens and the Yankees in the Bronx would make ESPN just that much more NYC/East Coast focused. But it’s not like LA has done much for the Dodgers.
So, how about it Mr. Z? Will you save Brooklyn (and all of us) from the hipster-pocalypse?
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THE FILIBUSTER settles back into the Sunday slot at RSBS in one week! No matter what the query, send it to RSBSBlog@gmail.com and we’ll let you know what we think.
When I was 7 years old I watched Game 6 of the 1986 World Series. That one game had a huge impact on me, my imagination and why I eventually became the baseball-lovin-monster I am today.
It was the first time I’d ever witnessed “a miracle”, the first time I really understood you need 27 outs to win a baseball game and the first time I realized that there is no substitute for hard work.
Years later, as a teenager, I recall hearing Gary Carter tell his version of what took place in Flushing that night, that during his at-bat that started the astonishing go-ahead rally his only thought to himself was “Don’t make the last out.”
That resonated with me.
Don’t make the last out.
Don’t ever give up.
Don’t give any effort but your best.
Rest in peace, Number 8.
The above picture is one of the remaining relics from that year 2000 sketch production extraordinaire staged at Kalamazoo College that brought its fans FUN, LAUGHS and FREE PUDDING. (Not kidding, we actually served free pudding to all patrons.)
Of course, dear readers galore know what eventually became of my persnickety and oft lugubrious colleague, Mr. Krause and I. Y’know, how we blew up the internets with our unique take on the baseball-politico world and all. But what of that crouching fella in the middle there?
That’s Jordan Klepper.
And here is Mr. Klepper, recently, with the lovely Laura Grey.
STILL KICKIN’ COMEDY TAIL!
Mr. Klepper grew up a huge Ryne Sandberg fan, and while living in The Chi, he wore his Cubs hat proudly. But then he moved to New York, and after a couple of Mets games we took in last summer, I couldn’t help but notice him salivating all over R.A. Dickey.
PS. The dude with the do-rag is Nick. I have no idea where or what he is doing in the world today but I’m sure he’s rockin’ it ‘cuz he was super cool back in school.
PPS. Yes. Mr. Krause is doing “the double handed shocker”.
It is my hope that, a year from now, the likes of Michele Bachmann, Rick Perry and Arte Moreno’s checkbook exist merely as fuzzy postulations of the delusional masses — mere hiccups in the digestive tract of progress. Of course, I realize one of these three is never going to go away, so I have to do what I can to temper the sadness it has caused.
But sometimes things go away, never come back and leave us wondering… what if?
Slap bracelets? Hello?!?! Where have you gone, fine fashion accessory from my youth?
Meanwhile, let’s examine those forgotten baseballers of 2011 and determine if they should forget me, or forget me not.
Dude, seriously. 115 plate appearances in 2011 was 115 plate appearances too many. Known exclusively as an overpaid hot-head wife-beater who had ONE good season, there’s no reason for Milton to get another chance. If his outrageous childlike behavior and .212 BA over the last two seasons aren’t any indication that it’s time to forget this loser, maybe the fact that NO ONE LIKES HIM is.
FORGET ME NOT.
It’s difficult for me to believe that no one had any use for this scrappy go-get-em baseballer in 2011. How did the Padres — a 91 loss team! — not have any role for Eckstein last year? The dude does just about everything and he does it all right. He’s a leader, a teacher, a fighter. In my opinion, many teams could have used his services last season and I don’t see how that situation would change in 2012. Any team’s super utility role should be considered for the former World Series MVP.
Like Dexy’s Midnight Runners and Vanilla Ice, Manny being Manny has long lost its charm. The man is a cheater. A wife beater (notice the theme here?). A creep. He was caught (AGAIN) ‘roiding up and instead of acting like a man, ‘fessing up and handling his business with dignity, he ran away and hid from his fans, not saying a word. Now he wants back in. Not only that, but somehow he has snaked his way out of serving the 100 game ban deemed necessary for repeat ‘roid offenders and lucked out with only facing a 50 game suspension. Manny reeks of insidious ego. STAY AWAY PLEASE.
FORGET ME NOT.
Never thought I’d say this, but I feel sorry for the Mets. I really do. Just a game away from the World Series in 2006, who knew they would fail so hard in 2007, sign the biggest free agent pitcher on the market to a $137 million contract, fail even harder in 2008, then fall into baseball hell with more problems than the Congressional Reform Act? There was a time when Santana on the bump meant I had to watch that game. With all of his recent injuries, I doubt that will ever be possible again, but I still want to see the man pitch. And soon.
I’m still trying to figure out how Webb was able to land a $3 million contract last season after not having pitched AT ALL since 2008*. Indeed, he had a good run from ’06 t0 ’08, getting guys out with one of the nastiest sinkers I’ve ever seen, but when your rotator cuff no longer rotates, I think it’s time to stop chasing the glory that once was.
Hate me ‘cuz I’m blunt, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
*Actually, Webb pitched 4 innings in 2009. He gave up 6 runs off 6 hits before his arm fell off and he disappeared from baseball relevancy; but in my opinion, that hardly counts as “pitching”.
Also, FORGET RSBS NOT and our awesome Oakley Blender sunglasses give-away, made possible by our friends at Crown Royal! If you would like to win these sweet shades, all you gotta do is send us a picture showing why you are RSBS’ biggest fan. Email it to us at RSBSblog@gmail.com. The winner will be announced this Saturday, December 24th.
Boston just got a bazillion times cooler. Seriously, I’m pumped to have Bobby V back in the game, just so I can post slobbery fanboy I’m-in-complete-awe-of-you-Bobby material.
For example, did you know that in addition to inventing “the wrap” and never mispronouncing Benny Agbayani’s name, Valentine is ALSO a 12th degree super-stealth NINJA!?!?
I love him.
Hate me for that. Fine. Just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
And so in this Podcast brought to you by Lifestyles…
The RSBS crew celebrates its 30th episode by taking a stroll down podcast memory lane, remembering things that busted our (and hopefully your) guts. AIDS salad and Ron Santo’s memory get rehashed while new memories (like gay ponies v. horsicorns, an iguana named Dudley and how you can cure your foot problems) are created! Jump on board the RSBS crazy train! No stops til you question how you spend your free time!
Don’t forget to getcho Crown Royal and enjoy some happy time!
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Subscribe to the RSBS Podcast by clicking *HERE*
Subscribe via iTunes by clicking *HERE*
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Recorded Saturday, November 26, 2011
Earlier this week, when asked about his role as set-up man to John Axford on a playoff-bound Brewers club, the manic and pock-marked hot head had this to say:
“There’s been plenty of save opportunities, and I’ve pitched once in the ninth inning and it wasn’t a save. I’m not happy. That’s the bottom line for me.”
Whaa whaa whaa. Cry me a river, you big, overpaid, underachieving man-baby.
You see, dear readers, K-Rod is what we nowadays call a “stat-whore” — an obvious “save” chaser, a child more concerned about his “legacy” than the overall well-being of his team. And apparently, winning means nothing to him. Being successful means nothing to him. If it did, he’d keep his mouth shut. Instead, he’s yapping about how rough he has it while presumably yearning for a return to that moribund, going-nowhere New York Mets club.
Are we, US Americans, responsible for this man-childish behavior? Probably. To be fair, we are the ones who tune in to train wrecks like The Jersey Shore. We are the ones who judge people based on appearances. We are the ones who look the other way while skinny little Brady Anderson racks up 50 bombs.
Will it ever end? Probably not. But being aware is being alive, which is good news for you and me.
And K-Rod? Well, he is just another one of the walking dead.
PS. Aside from being a big baby, K-Rod is also the poster child against extreme, high definition close-ups. I mean, seriously, there is no reason for a grown man to have that much acne. Unless…
For me, the tragedy of 9/11 cannot be separated from the baseball that eventually helped ease the grief. The few moments of distraction it provided during a time when nothing else really made sense cannot be overstated. For a bonafide baseball nerd like myself, the game is always the best medicine.
In the fall of 2001, the prescription was Mike Piazza, Derek Jeter and one of the most dramatic World Series ever played.
Last night, during my first visit to New York’s gorgeous and amenity laden Citi Field, I was surrounded by people who felt exactly the same as me. And that, my friends, is a very powerful thing.