Four years ago today, I wrote the first post in RSBS history. It was terrifyingly awful. What terrifies me even more is that at that time in 2008, I had incredibly high hopes for the Tigers’ upcoming season based on some high-profile acquisitions they had made. Four years later, I’m still haunted by that 2008 season and experiencing no small amount of deja vu (all over again).
If there’s one thing that gives me hope, though, it’s the fact that sometimes triumph is born from the ashes of despair and failure. That first post was awful but the throw-away line at the end ended up becoming Mr. Lung’s regular sign-off. And even though Dontrelle Willis didn’t work out for the Tigers, Miguel Cabrera has been a godsend. Paired with Prince Fielder, I can’t say as though there has been a more feared power duo in the AL since the days of the Bash Brothers.
Sometimes you have to let go of the past and just realize that it’s over. So, with that in mind, happy fourth birthday Mr. Lung. And a special thank you from both of us to the interns for their years of unpaid but essential work. But most of all, thank you to our loyal readers who keep coming back, in spite of RSBS‘ inauspicious beginnings. Hopefully in 366 days we’ll be blowing out another candle together.
Considering it’s the off-season, there’s sure a lot going on. Ok, maybe not so much in the world of baseball where the AL’s Prince Fielder hangover is finally starting to wear off, but everywhere else, it’s pandemonium.
Of course there was the Superbowl, which, once again, was a phenomenal game. If you’re not American, there’s a good chance you’re following either the African Cup of Nations soccer tournament or tuning in for the ongoing rivalry between Real Madrid and Barcelona. And somehow people care about basketball again. But, that’s just sports.
In the non-athletic domains, the action is even more intense. Syria is descending into civil war and threatens to take the rest of the Middle East with it. Mitt and Newt, both of whom should be excluded from presidential consideration based solely on their first names, continue to slug it out in the race to the Republican nomination. If that’s not enough for you, we also have Iran’s war-mongering which seems to consist mainly of vaguely Monty Python-esque threats.
There’s another Iran note that truly caught my attention, though. It seems that they’re hedging their bets on the whole nuclear program by creating an unconventional back-up plan:[youtube http://youtu.be/MJjpFYVvwBo]
I’ll tell you what, you can laugh off Iran saying they’re going to close the Straits of Hormuz. But ninjas? No one laughs at ninjas. Except maybe Chuck Norris.
In the Twittersphere, we at RSBS have a reputation for taking cheap shots at Prince Fielder’s… er… um… corpulence (good word, interns!). While we do a good job of avoiding the F-word (no, the OTHER F-word, silly), we cannot help but point out the absurdity that is Prince Fielder’s physique.
Dude is big, as in I’s hongry big. He does not have an athletic body. Yet he’s just as athletic an athlete as you’re apt to find these days when it comes to production.
Prince is an anomaly though. An anachronism, even. He’s the digital watch in Glory in that HE SHOULDN’T BE WHERE HE IS.
Except he is.
How did he get here?
I call McDonald’s’ bluff. If it were really that easy — to just stuff one’s face full of awful simulated food product — then nearly all of US America would be getting paid by a Big League club right now.
In Prince’s case, I gotta think it’s the genes that make it all too easy.
Don’t hate me. ‘Cuz I’m right.
He’s larger than life. He’s estranged from his father. He could possibly eat his body weight in donuts. And he’s all ours!
Detroit has fallen in love with Prince Fielder and it seems like the feeling is mutual. Me? I couldn’t be happier. One of the happiest memories of my childhood was watching Prince’s daddy crush a ball that flew out of old Tiger Stadium, right over me, my brother and my dad. You don’t forget that kind of thing. And now we can go relive it in Comerica Park with Prince doing the honors. It just feels right.
At the same time, I’m a little worried. The baseball world hasn’t been this giddy about the Tigers since 2008 when they were shoo-ins to win the World Series. Shoo-ins, that is, until they ended up falling flat on their face right out of the gate. This team is too good to fail but, well, if there’s anything we’ve learned in the past few years it’s that nothing is too anything to fail.
All that aside, I’m excited about 2012. It’s an election year, the Lions should be even better next season and now the Tigers have made a move that in retrospect seems brilliant, even if no one saw it coming. Verlander and Fister. Prince and Miggy. You can forgive me for feeling a little giddy.
Without question, the blockbuster Prince Fielder-Detroit Tigers signing shock-and-awed the baseball universe. But for those who huddle en masse around 35th and Shields, still hanging on to what little hope may have remained for the critically criticized 2012 White Sox club, such news only served as confirmation for a long, slow, painful baseball season death.
Will this Irish keening ever stop?!?! A man needs his sleep!!!
Unfortunately, with the likes of Jake Peavy ($17 million), Alex Rios ($12+ million/year through 2014) and Adam Dunn ($14+ million/year through 2014) holding the team hostage with their collective astronomically unbalanced compensation-to-performance ratios, it appears the situation in Bridgeport is only going to get worse before it gets better.
Which forces the question: what is the shelf life on a Gordon Beckham? Once the “untouchable dealbreaker” in any high profile trade, it seems like the former first round draft pick is doing his very best Brandon Wood impression. In fact, there were times last season where Beckham looked as clueless on the diamond as Rick Santorum would at a gay foam party on the beach.
Sox fans can only take so much of “I’m going to work on some things and get better” before they realize YOU’RE LYING. YOU’RE NOT VERY GOOD. STOP TALKING.
In fact, the dour mood of the White Sox organization might benefit from a colossal dose of shut-the-hell-up. People are tired of hearing Jake Peavy say… anything. People are tired of the excuses for why Gordon Beckham just isn’t that good. People are tired. Period.
Unfortunately, it looks like that “tired” is going to morph into a bonafide coma, at least through 2014.
Hate me. Go ahead. Just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
All-around baseball good guy Joe Torre is stepping down from his MLB front office position to pursue his interest in purchasing the Los Angeles Dodgers. While this is bad news (I think) for those of us who hoped he might take over for King Bud once the reign of terror is over at the end of the year, I have to think that a group headed by Torre is probably a great way to save this storied franchise.
Of course, there are alternatives. And yep, you guessed it. The RSBS interns are ready to report:
1. Go back in time, don’t trade Kevin Brown and instead have him break Frank McCourt’s hand so it won’t wander onto a woman who isn’t his wife.
2. Stop making it mandatory that Alyssa Milano wear clothes to the ballpark. (Holy Jackie Robinson, I’ve been in love with Alyssa for 20 years now; she just gets better looking!!!)
4. Get a mascot! I know just the one!
How about signing Prince Fielder? Seriously. Make him some crazy offer like $30 million a year for 6 years or something. Wouldn’t that make the Dodgers a nice, EXPENSIVE and attractive purchase? And besides, it’s L.A. Just use somebody else’s money.
Hate me. FINE. Just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Would you, MLB? Would you hurry up and tell me what to think about the Ryan Braun situation so I can properly compartmentalize my NL Central adversaries? I need to know if I should hate Ryan Braun or if I should just respectfully dislike him. And I need to know NOW.
When this story broke in early December, I immediately paused 30 Rock on the Netflix stream so I could specifically call my friend, Mr. Mahmud, and mutually gloat in the complete downfall or our fellow divisional foe. Ha ha ha, Prince is gone and now Braun is a fraud… fa la la la la… THE END.
Or so I thought.
I mean, this is the post-steroid era in baseball, right? You get caught with a dirty test, your name is mud. You’re a cheat. An A-Fraud for life.
Unless of course, you’re a likable, attractive white man who plays in a market tailored towards good, wholesome folk. At least, that’s how it seems.
I understand there are some strange circumstances regarding Mr. Braun’s positive performance enhancing drug test, specifically, that there aren’t any “performance enhancing drugs” present, but rather TWICE the normal testosterone levels, which would lead one to believe that such an oddity might be the result of treating a “personal medical problem” (how ’bout I just come out and say it: SEXUALLY TRANSMITTED DISEASE).
My reaction to that is: okay, so what? If dude is TWICE the man everyone else is, of course that would effect his performance, right? And to say he didn’t know what he was being medicated with is no excuse. This is the 21st century. He has every doctor, nutritionist, trainer, coach, jedi master, etc. at his side to advise him on these issues. Don’t take this, Ryan, or else it will RUIN YOUR CAREER.
Then again, maybe Braun just gets a pass because he is a cool dude. People like him. He plays in a small market and he’s white. I guess that makes it all okay.
Either way, I want an answer and I want it now.
Hate me. I don’t care. Just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
“Hello little man, boy, I heard a lot about you.”
The news is in the for MLB, and well, there is no news.
But Paula Deen got hit in tha damn head with a ham!!!
Wish I threw it.
But there is a ham fighter (and occasional nude male model) on the loose. The Rangers couldn’t keep C.J. Wilson but they sure ponied up to possibly sign Yu Darvish. After the Los Angels signed Alberta de la Pujols, Texas had to do something and they definitely went BIG.
I don’t speak Farsi or Japanesy-Chinesey like Jeffy, but I’ve been all over this kid for a couple years and am eager to see him pitch in the Bigs. I finally have a Middle Eastern brother to watch!
Decision making while tired has happened many times whilst signing Asian ballplayers has been bad, (see Fukudome, Kosuke or K, Dice) but I think this cat has it going on. He’s extremely consistent statistically, has a powerful arm and my manometer is blasting! I will make a pilgrimage to Arlington to see him, which means I’ll probably have a woman shooting at me eventually. Everybody’s packing down there!
Anyway, this was early Xmas for me, (even though the Prince isn’t a Cub yet) so I got my reindeer sweater and I’m blastin this bomb.
“Jesus, that’s wet.”
Have a great whatever you do!
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“Gee, I wish we had one of them doomsday machines.”
There are three things I can never remember: the first is people’s names. The second is… is…
Anyway, I know I love me some hot stove! I’m making my yearly pantsless expedition to the wonderful world of MLB offseason rumors and conjecture! I’m even careening into mailboxes on my bike because of the madness!! I have puppies and chimps in my kitchen and we put on plays about how free agent negotiations “go down”. It’s like a Japanese game show. You never know who’s going to get eaten!
So far Miami is the big mover/shaker, but who will be next?
For years they’ve employed unreal drafting strategies, worked on the cheap, biding their time while the super powers outspend each other. But now… THE SUM OF ALL FEARS.
Russia, China and America (Yankees, Red Sox, Cubs) have initiated the snap count for a Red Alert nuclear attack but ended up killing themselves fighting each other whilst brilliant strategery is quietly coming together in south Florida. They have a new stadium, new digs, new manager, new closer and now Jojo Reyes. Will Reyes and Pujols share casserole recipes? REMEMBER: don’t share with Hanley! He’s already good on the whole putting on muscle mass thing.
But as much as the Marlins (and possibly the Cubs?) are pushing for Albert, I think he’s staying home in the Lou. By the way, I’d rather go toe to toe with a mountain lion mother protecting her cubs then go through another Aldopho Soriano situation if the Cubs sign Pujols for nine years and he looks like he’s 48 after just two of them. And brother Jeffy will be singing this for days when that happens…
If my beloved Cubs can swing a reasonable deal for Prince Fielder though, I’m beyond down. I’ll do anything — shine shoes, wait tables, blow… glass.
But in the case that neither Senor Jeffy or I get our wishes, you will probably read someday of an infamous double Groundhog Day beheading.
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“Blind faith is the crutch of fools.”
We may not be in the Prince/Pujols derby, but it’s fine. It’s fine.
My water just broke. Theo is here. I’m feeling woozy.
I’ve been harvesting my organs to get the perfect GM. I’ve been licking my cat’s fanny to find the best. I’ve been on a Rambo-style manhunt to make sure the Cubs can be good for an extended amount of time.
I’VE EVEN TRIED HUMAN MEAT!!! (That part is almost true.)
At the press conference yesterday, he said “I promised I wouldn’t bring up the Red Sox,” but it’s ok, Theo. You said the right things at the right moments. You talked about “being on base and defense.” CRAZY! I am over the moon, trying to slow my roll, but you, Theo, are everything I’ve ever wanted: smart, savvy and new!
In my lifetime, being awful has been the Cub paradigm. Things have to change now. We might need a Castro coach to show him… defense. The way Wrigley plays may require some of Theo’s number crunching. But we have more hope now than we’ve had the last 15 years combined. (See Baker, Piniella, et al)
But best of all, as I write this, Theo Epstein is hatching a plan to dismantle every last bit of crap left in the C’s organization.
I’m in. I’m all in. AND… his sister, Anya, wrote for Homicide: Life on the Streets!! My favorite show of ever!!!
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