When that one game exposes a rudimentary flaw that I have been gripin’ about for over three years now, then that’s when trouble starts. That’s when walls in my apartment become punch-holed and that’s when my neighbors consider burning me at the stake for my insane bouts of baseball rapture.
Ryan Franklin… brother… I love ya… and I know you only blew two saves last year, but you ain’t a closer.
Pitching to contact is fine if you’re Derek Lowe. It’s fine if you’re a starter. Heck, it’s fine if you’re guaranteed that the batted balls are going straight into someone’s glove. But in the 9th inning, with a one run lead… I don’t want ANYONE ON BASE. NO ONE.
Ya hear me?
When I bring a guy in to close a game, I want someone with firepower, someone with strikeout potential… someone who throws GAS, someone with a wicked slider, someone with an impossible-to-hit cutter.
Think Mo Rivera. Think Dennis Eckersely. Think Neftali Feliz.
The closer’s job is to come in and close the game, not to let ’em hit it and hope your defense saves you.
The best way to close a game is to miss the hitters’ bats. And Ryan Franklin has a real hard time doin’ that.
Now, for more on this, let us turn to our junior RSBS correspondents:
As if the official opening of the baseball season wasn’t enough, the Star Wars Miniland at LegoLand California also opens today! And what could be more American than baseball and Legos? Both involve the assembly of complex structures from seemingly small and interchangeable building blocks. Both are incredibly overpriced. Both are better with beer.
Over here at RSBS, we couldn’t be happier about the start of the season. Maybe it’s the hellish winter that still hasn’t quite let go. Maybe it’s the fact that thinking about football also means thinking about the all but imminent work stoppage. Maybe it’s just that baseball and spring go together like apples and pie. Whatever it is, baseball is back and from now until November, you can bet that we’ll be letting you know what we think.
So without any further ado, play ball!
And so in this Podcast brought to you by Lifestyles…
The proverbial (and literal) gloves come off in this verbal masquerade of utter ridiculousness and yes, injuries do occur (though mostly to Johanna and, since they are mental in nature, hardly noticed). Among the topics of conversation one will find: Jeff’s wandering Forever 21 eyes, Zack Greinke’s ribs, the difference between a half and a full nelson, Cameroonian baseball, Bud Selig-bashing take 47 and much, much more… all to make you smile, laugh and play!
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Subscribe to the RSBS Podcast by clicking *HERE*
Subscribe via iTunes by clicking *HERE*
*Special thanks to our PodMaster Keith Carmack. Keith is all over the interwebz killin’ it. You should definitely check out his crew and their subsequently hilarious podcast at Undercard Films. And keep your eye out for what’s next. Dude’s makin’ a movie!
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Recorded Saturday, March 12, 2011
Two years ago, in order to quell our insatiable desire for all-things baseball prior to Opening Day, my woebegone and oft curt colleague (Mr. Allen Krause) and I decided to get our baseball fill through glorious song. Said gloriousness was achieved by lip-syncing “Crush” by David Archuleta.
It was da bomb.
And it played a major role in making RSBS a household MLBlog name.
Everything was perfect…
Sony had the video blocked. About a year ago. They claimed we shouldn’t be able to post the material because it was not our music. We acknowledged that — DUH — but retorted that ours fell under parody law, that we made no claim that it was our song. We gave credit where it was due and only asked that our interpretation of Archuleta’s hit be given a chance to thrive, because other baseball beserkers would find it consoling during the antsy prelude to the long season.
Somehow, the baseball gods were appeased. And “Crush” is back online.*
For all of our dear readers — new, old, barely breathing — please, enjoy the show!
And don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
**Apparently, some folks outside the US may still have it blocked. So, uh… guess you better move to ‘Merica so you can see it.
Dear readers galore, my salient and oft ornery colleague Mr. Allen Krause may have called you to arms, to take up that proverbial weapon of action, to boycott Opening Day in a move to overthrow the Major League powers that be; but ne’er forget:
The shots of la resistance can ne’er be reversed.
And Opening Day is too important an event to just… swat away with the hopes of passing a message up the chain to get King Bud out of the commissioner’s office.
STOP THE INSANITY!
Look, I don’t like Bud Selig either. A simple skim over the thousand+ RSBS entries will yield a Bud-bash… or fifty. And I agree with Mr. Krause’s (and, obviously the public’s) perception of the man; but my friends, he’s going to retire in 2012. He is MOST DEFINITELY going to RETIRE in 2012.
We’ve put up with the shenanigans this long… another year or two won’t kill us.
Indeed, it will make us stronger.
And knowing that we baseball fanatics need our baseball, need our Opening Day pomp and circumstance, well, that just makes it that much more insane to consider giving it up. Trust me… I have personally experienced a similar dilemma:
While delusions of Erin Andrews’ golden locks and Kim Kardashian’s bangin’ booty may entertain most of my non-baseball related thoughts, the real me needs some real attention too. BUT, the dating world is a cruel, mean, awful and disgusting place. It whips you. It slaps you. It sticks your teeth on a curb and stomps on your head.
I know this.
But I need women… and if it means I gotta wade through muck to get at ’em, well, then that’s just the way it has to be. I can’t just BOYCOTT them. That would be… that would be…
The same goes for baseball and especially Opening Day. I already got the whole event planned, from sunrise to sunset. And Bud Selig ain’t gonna get in the way of that.
Technically it means very little. One game in the course of a 162 game season. But let’s face it. Opening Day is something else. It sets a tone. In 2008, when all the cognoscenti had picked the Tigers to go all the way, those of us who follow the team definitely felt a little hint of worry when they got thumped by the Royals on the first day. And if they could have won on Opening Day last year, that would have been enough to win them the Central and avoid an ill-fated playoff with the Twins.
For such an epic sport, a sport whose history goes back more than a century and whose season lasts more than half a year, baseball is a game of inches and moments. And that’s why we love it. It invokes the saga of multiple generations of both players and fans but allows us to live in the immediacy of a home run or a strikeout pitch.
Opening Day is baseball in miniature. Yes, it’s only one game and yes it doesn’t technically mean that much being only one 162nd of the of the season. But if you ask any of us sitting here watching our Opening Day starter take the mound if this game means something and you can bet your @$$ we’re all going to say yes.
Happy Opening Day and go Tigers!
Any Opening Day rituals? I always wear the same shirt.
Just so we are all clear on this, let it be known that I try to change my shirt at least once every day, every two days if I’m really strapped for time and/or laundry detergent. I mean, I do have a wild side, but I ain’t no goddamn hipster.
But that’s not what you meant, Pete, and for that, I wish I could apologize.
Rituals? Hell yes. Indeed, dear readers, I may be a logical, reason abiding secularist, but that doesn’t mean I can’t dip into the crazy pool every once in a while, just for fun.
In fact, the following is a short checklist of things I must have for opening day to complete me:
It will never nag, it will never whine, it will never talk. It doesn’t ask you to skip the game to go to some dinner party. It doesn’t ask “does this make me look fat?” It won’t flip out, drunk dial you at 5 a.m. and force you to change all the locks on your doors. Beer is your friend, people. Make sure you have it. Lots of it.
Um, you can have pizza without beer and beer without pizza, but why would you do something like that? Opening Day calls for order — the first of a regimented 162 — so let’s all get on the same Utopian page and have some ‘za with our beer (this will cause heartburn for a lot of us, but it doesn’t matter. Man up!).
Just when you think you have enough beer you realize you need more beer. It happens all the time. If you’re on a budget, Miller Lite, Old Style or Bud Light will work splendidly (though not Special Export or Hamm’s, unless you want to make out with the toilet later). If money ain’t a thang I suggest Belle’s Oberon, Sam Adams anything or Trout Slayer — the ultimate baseball beer. Whatever kind of beer you stock, make sure you have a lot of it. Why? Because on Opening Day you will also need…
And they will drink your beer. You see, baseball isn’t the grandest game because of its simple complexity — not because of the inherent genius of setting the bases 90 feet apart (imagine the difference if they were set 95 feet apart); baseball is the grandest game because no matter what happens on the field, it can (and will) be shared among a diverse set of people with blanket understanding. A generation gap does not exist. Excluding the inflated numbers of the steroid era, everyone knows what it means to hit 60 homeruns. And when Grand Daddy recollects a Sandy Koufax no-hitter, batter by batter, forty years after the fact without missing any details, I totally know what he’s talking about. The game is meant to be shared, to be argued, to be held in collective awe by its supporters. This is why I like to spend Opening Day with friends. Besides, it helps to know you’re not alone… so make sure you have plenty of…
Because really, if we are going to be forced to watch another nauseating Yankees v. Red Sox matchup to start the season, we might as well be sauced enough to not mind.
And for me that would start around beer number nine…
So let’s get drinkin’!
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right!
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Something on your mind? Want to see Jeff and Al sweat (separately, not
together, eww)? Think you got a real stumper? Send us your Filibuster
question(s) by commenting or emailing them to us at
***A clean shirt for Pete from Barrington also welcome.