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
Besides, sitting in front of that television watching baseball games and drinking beer all day could be a lot more fun if you just… live a little. And by live, of course I mean entertaining the idea that some Republicans might actually have some good ideas.
No, that’s a lie. I’m talking about gambling. And you know it.
So if you’re gonna gamble, why not gamble on a sure thing… ya know, so it’s not so much like gambling. And just in case you worried you might have to do some work to find a sure thing, relax. RSBS and the trusted interns have already done all the work. So here ’tis, folks, three DEFINITE winners.
Add to your bankroll wisely…
Sure Thing Number 1: Albert Pujols
Uh… hello? If you haven’t been convinced of Albert’s transcending greatness yet, then you are either a) dead b) communist or c) dead. And for all you dead commies, know that Prince Albert went 4-5 with two dingers on Opening Day 2010. Eat it!
Sure Thing Number 2: Paul Lebowitz’s 2010 Baseball Guide
From one prince to another, let it be known that the most ruthless, best writer you’ve never heard of is back, this time with the 2010 edition of his annual baseball guide. You can purchase it *here* on Amazon, or find it through his blogspot site or paullebowitz.com. Dude, if reading The Prince of New York isn’t already a part of your daily routine, then what the hell are you waiting for? The man knows what he’s talking about and this guide will help you with your fantasy teams and your exotic parlays! Oh, and you’ll also gain an in-depth understanding of every aspect of all thirty clubs. Of course, if you don’t check it out there’s always the chance that I might have to break your legs… so… just sayin’…
Sure Thing Number 3: Evan Longoria’s Bad@$$ New Era Commercial
Yep. If you haven’t seen it yet, get ready, ‘cuz this commercial is a man-gasmic (I made that word up so pay me if you use it) trip down to Awesomeville (I made that one up too). Look, I love the Andrew Bailey, Nelson Cruz, Justin Verlander commercials… and Mauer is good and all… but jeesh, watching Longoria play this adventurous hero who takes his headwear seriously causes me virtual fits in a world where I am loyal to Albert and Albert only. Good thing it’s all make-believe, or I might be heading to Albert-Rams-A-Louisville-Slugger-Up-My-Toosh-Opolis (I officially made that up too, but you can blame my sickish and oft pedantic colleague, Mr. Krause, for its idiocy).
So, what are ya waiting for?
Show me the money!
And don’t hate me… ‘cuz I’m right.
Believe me, dear readers, I didn’t want go here today… I didn’t want to appear like I was lending credence to another crackpot theory by actually addressing said crackpot theory. But the internets are a buzzin’ and the pressure from RSBS fans to address the situation is too great.
So, consider this sharp tongue released…
Yesterday, I first learned of ESPN shoe-licking savant Buster Olney’s egregious aspiration to be donned the worldwide leader of make-believe (specifically, a fantasyland where the Cardinals and Phillies swap Albert Pujols for Ryan Howard) by reading the Prince of New York’s take.
He speaks for me.
And he is right.
Why does Buster Olney have a job?
Seriously, this is no joking matter — especially considering the faux affection thrown Olney’s way every time he enters a baseball conversation, whether on t.v., radio or print.
Indeed, Olney’s actions are akin to me walking into an evangelical church yelling “the rapture’s coming, the rapture’s coming, the rapture’s coming!” just because I think it’d be funny to see how people react. (PS, the rapture is not coming… because it’s ludicrous.)
It is akin to a doctor telling a perfectly healthy pregnant woman that her baby is dead — even though it isn’t — just to get an interesting conversation going… y’know, a good old conversation about what it’d be like if her baby were dead.
It’s blasphemy. It’s conjecture. It’s unfounded (even though he says it isn’t).
Not even Carlos Zambrano would say something that stupid. (*I reserve the right to change my mind about this one*)
For me, the desire to continue down this ranting road is strong… but I leave it to my man-crush, Albert the Machine himself, to quash this unfettered anger by saying:
“There’s people, stupid, that like to write something when it’s not the
truth, and that’s all I have to say about that.”
Dagnabbin’ right, A.P.
Buster? Eat a big Phillie phat one.
And don’t hate me… ‘cuz I’m right.
(*Link to article with Albert’s quote*)
I just threw up. On myself! Tastes like chalk from all those chalky heart candies.
Do you know hearts are not really shaped like that?
Now, in spite of my distaste for this putrid ‘holiday’ designed to remind me I ain’t gettin’ any tonight, I’ve decided to spread some love anyway — RSBS style, of course.
Yesterday marked the two year anniversary of RSBS‘ virgin birth (yeah, it was virgin so don’t ask no more questions), and I think it’s pretty clear that we wouldn’t have lasted this long without some strong support from our dear readers and fellow paupish writers, so to celebrate that, I’m just going to point out some great blogs that I feel should get some more attention:
Prince of New York
Paul “Prince” Lebowitz not only knows the game of baseball better than anyone you’ve never heard of, but he also personifies the perfect balance of brass balls and sheer smarts. I read his site every day. You should too.
Baseball, Apple Pie, and Lobster
Jonestein is the king of not pulling punches. He hits and he hits hard, often sending me into helpless bouts of laughter. Anti-big-government, anti-religion, anti-antics-in-general, BAPL has something for everybody. Okay, maybe not everybody. Still, his thoughtful articles have never disappointed moi… I only wish there were more.
Okay, this one has nothing to do with baseball or politics or anything at all remotely close to the amorous RSBS, but for some reason it always gets me thinking, smiling, feeling. You may see it as girly (lots of fashion photos, motifs, vocab), but I don’t. I see it as soulful. And the sky gods know I need something to fill this soul. This is it.
And don’t hate me, ‘cuz I’m right… and I know when I’m right.
– – –
**DEAR READERS! ALERT! ALERT! ALERT!**
The Filibuster is baaaaaaack! To celebrate pitchers and catchers reporting this week, Mr. Krause and I will once again be taking your questions for the Filibuster segment, posted every Sunday! If you have a burning question, thought, plan for world domination, etc., please email us at firstname.lastname@example.org or leave us a comment mentioning the Filibuster.
Some of the names may have changed, but the bad contracts continue to pile up. The Chicago Cubs off-season moves have made the Cardinals a much better team than the Cardinals could have made themselves; and the Cards haven’t done… well, anything really.
But watching the Cubs destroy themselves is nothing new.
And when trying to reassert my anti-Cubs passion during the long winter, I got an early charge from this recent Marlon Byrd signing. Huzzah! Hey, Chicago, whadya say? The Cubs are gonna overpay for a centerfielder today!
And a right fielder (Fukudome)…and a left fielder (Soriano)…
Didn’t y’all learn anything about immediately signing a guy from Texas coming off a career year? Nah. Nevermind.
The Prince of New York paints a nice, self-destructive picture of the Cubs organization hinged on that Byrd deal; meanwhile, I’m beginning to believe Jim Hendry is employing the James Cameron school of thought by throwing a ton of money at something that is fundamentally underdeveloped, hoping it will be a hit (or be able to hit… a breaking ball, in particular, if you’re Alfonso Soriano).
The difference is: James Cameron threw a lot of money at some stuff that actually looks cool even if the story is sorta lacking. I mean, I didn’t love Avatar, but I was certainly entertained by it. One can’t say the same for what lines up to be another epic bust of a season for the sCrUBBIE dubbies.
And Jesus hates them.
Don’t hate me, ‘cuz I’m right.
If you are a Cardinal fan and you read Will Leitch’s Deadspin column this week and you are like me then you, too, are probably well into your fourth fifth of Jack Daniels. You’ve called your mother balling like a baby, the cops have been to your house twice and you have a large welt on the inside part of your leg, you don’t know how or when it got there.
No, sir. The world just doesn’t seem the same anymore.
For those of you dear readers unaware, to summarize, Leitch made a strong point that the Cardinals’ franchise player — the face, the rock, the lone savior of St. Louis — Albert Pujols, may not be as married to the organization as we all think he is, that if the Cardinals aren’t committed to winning (as they appear now), that if Tony LaRussa isn’t around, that if GM John Mozeliak and his army of “stat zombies” (thanks, Prince) decide to continue on the Moneyball route and take for granted that Albert will sit around, silent, simply collecting a paycheck, then it is not fair to assume he will stay with the franchise once his contract ends in 2011.
It’s not fair.
I do not have to tell you how important Albert is to St. Louis Cardinals baseball because Albert is St. Louis Cardinals baseball. The loss of Pujols would be akin to the loss of Franz Ferdinand… or worse! It’d be John Lennon, Jack Kennedy and Aaliyah all dying on the same day! Seriously.
One of the joys from the past few seasons has been watching Yadier Molina develop into a feisty, competitive, smart and affective baseballer. He hits for average, has power, steals bases, always has his head in the game and you can’t find a better defensive catcher. You also cannot listen to a Cardinals broadcast these days without hearing how essential Albert Pujols has been in Yadi’s development. You see them together in the dugout, talking hitting, talking defense, then Yadi goes out produces. It’s a real thing of beauty.
Yet if you listen to Will Leitch’s warning shots and recognize the clear and present danger of losing Albert, then you really have to think about losing Yadi too. His contract is also up in 2011 with a club option for 2012 and if Mozeliak & Co. don’t convince Albert to stick around, you can bet that Molina will be right behind him.
Thinking about all of this makes me want to die. If I feel that way, if Cardinal fans feel that way, if the blogosphere feels that way, then why does John Mozeliak — the pompous king of arrogance — continue to look down upon us — the common voice — like plebeian s***-eaters who know nothing about the game of baseball?
I guess now is the time to start praying to the baseball gods. I just hope they know more about satisfying their fanbase than Mozeliak.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
As if facing Team Japan in the World Baseball Classic’s upcoming semifinals isn’t enough pressure on the already limping USA squad, once the laundry list of abominable possibilities finally settles in, we US Americans could be in big trouble.
Nevermind the impeccable team consciousness so calculated and so perfected by Team Japan during international competition. Nevermind Team Japan’s quiet gamesmanship deftly defining and defending their world-class status. Nevermind Dice-K and Darvish. There is much more to fear… for example:
Rape! Dear readers, Ted Bundy, Mike Tyson, Kobe Bryant… these guys ain’t got nuthin’ on the Japanese. Don’t believe me? Know this: from December 1937 to February 1938, the Japanese raped an entire city! The then southern stronghold of China, Nanjing (aka Nanking), was completely decimated by the Japanese in a not-so-quiet storm of raging pillage quite akin to the stomping Chris Brown gave Rihanna not too long ago.
If that isn’t reason enough to fear the Japanese, how about this?
Not only do they combine situational hitting with speed, they are also known to make sure the opposite clubhouse spread is spiked with magic mushrooms, leaving the competition confused in a burst of beguiling blur.
Yet nothing should invoke more fear in the hearts of Americans than the Japanese group mind. To illustrate, here’s a clip of Team Japan’s batting practice:
They may not be a hit on Broadway (yet), but the Japanese sure do know how to rhythmically scare the bejesus out of any and all opponents willing to scrap.
US Americans, let us unite! Persevere! And conquer!
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
P.S. Dear readers, if you haven’t already, make sure you purchase the Prince of New York Paul Lebowitz’s 2009 Baseball Guide. You can get it *here* and you should get it soon. It is your one-stop shop for all things 2009 MLB and it has magical powers (and by “magical powers” I mean “table of contents”). Believe me, this dude knows what he’s talking about. He’s the clean, charming, polite version of Jose Canseco.
On the real.
(Ichiro blur photo courtesy of Donald Miralle/Getty Images)