My dubious and oft out of touch with the public colleague, Mr. Allen Krause, shocked the baseball-politico world on Monday when he compared his beloved Detroit Tigers to the stiff stylings of Mitt Romney. Now, lining one’s self up with the far right fed Tea Party and Christian Coalition is one thing, but talking out of one’s posterior in a public forum is another.
Mr. Krause said:
The Cardinals are playing with a ragtag team and no longer have master strategist La Russa at the reigns.
Ragtag? RAG? TAG?
What’s so ragtag about being World Champions? What’s ragtag about Holliday? Freese? Molina?
Carlos Beltran? Allen Craig? Chris Carpenter?
WHAT IS THIS RAGTAG YOU SPEAK OF, MR. KRAUSE?!?
The only thing “ragtag” about your REIGNING… WORLD… CHAMPIONS… is that they might play this before each game:
Oh, wait. That’s ragTIME.
Like it’s time to grab a rag and wipe up the locquacious mess left by my colleague.
Hate me ‘cuz you can, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
I Got My Knives Sharp
The most interesting man in the world… Is it Starlin Castro? Or Bobby Valentine, ranter of rants?
On Sunday night, Bobby V was my hero. He was attacking a sad, sad organization from the rear. From what the Cubs should be doing, to calling out everybody — president-owner-manager-scouting — it was FANTASTIC TELEVISION. He was flat out givin’ em the bizzness down there.
Valentine is probably fishing for a managerial gig, but he couldn’t be more right in his breakdown of Starlin Castro’s lack of awareness at shortstop. Valentine saw this in one inning and I haven’t heard anything like it all damn year. You can check out the video *here*.
Somebody is not teaching him right. Is anyone teaching anything? In the postgame interview Mike Quade said he would call Valentine. For wha??? Earlier in the season he said he had to call his “pitching people”. Sunday he said now he has to call his “infield people”???
Now all eyes on are on Castro. He’s the youngest player to reach 300 hits in 70 years for the Cubs. But he also has the most errors in the National League, most of them careless errors.
So when does he get turned around? Please don’t let him become Hanley Ramirez… fat and lazy. Quade was supposed to be THE guy who could develop the most important piece of this franchise. You cannot blame Castro for any of this madness.
As a Cubs fan, I believe in nothing the organization is doing. It’s bad. It’s a joke. A travesty. Tom Ricketts still doesn’t have a list of possible GMs. He actually said this?!?!?
Look, Tom, keep it in your head, fine. But at least say you have a plan! You gotta give Cubs fans some hope. Act like you have an effing clue, billionaire fan boy, because you can’t ask Daddy for da monnnneyyyyy to bail your @$$ out. He said no, no, no.
Meanwhile, Quade benched Castro Monday but said the kid doesn’t have A.D.D. What a relief!
Ricketts, get a real list of who is gonna turn this thing around. Oh, and by the way, the Cubs left 15 men on base Monday night after Starlin’s benching. Without him, well, welcome to the village of SUCK.
Follow Johanna on Twitter!
*If I’m not tweeting it’s because I’m sexting and showing off Favre style!
With just six weeks and some change left in the regular season, now is the time I lament my dear Cardinals’ now seemingly annual implosion from the top of the NL Central and into regular season obscurity. Sure we can blame Waino’s injury. We can blame Albert’s transformation from Machine to Double-Play Machine. We can blame shoddy defense and the lack of a real closer, hell, blame me, I don’t care. But in the end, there is no denying that we have lost the really important games and we’ve been real sloppy doing it.
Of course, this is the NL Central. So until the math cancels us out, there’s no need to give up just yet.
The same cannot be said for the Tampa Bay Rays.
If the Rays were in any division other than the AL East they’d be right in the thick of contention. Unfortunately, the way things are now, even if they do collect the fourth best record in the AL, they still won’t make the playoffs as long as post season regulars New York and Boston remain above them. I find this a bit sad, for the Rays have gotten tremendous pitching all season long and they’ve found a way to win without high-priced free agent flops Carl Crawford and Carlos Pena.
But no one’s talking about the Rays. And no one will.
Hm… reminds me of the one-way delusional street commonly referred to as the Republican Party.
In the case of the Rays, at least they’ll get another shot next year. Dr. Paul, on the other hand, is stuck in a great big clogged up tube of crazy, and the exit is nowhere to be found.
The symbols of relevance, the things that transform a simple it into that proverbial “it” are generally born all in the timing, and since the Birds on the Bat are stuck in a Philadelphia this week, so too am I.
And I don’t like it.
No, this has nothing to do with Philadelphia being a backwards place (it is). It doesn’t have anything to do with the type of fans who cheer when the other teams’ star gets hurt (they do). And of course, this does not have anything to do with that ^sswipe Jim Bunning (he really is an ^sswipe, folks).
Indeed, my suddenly emphatic aggravation with Philadelphia is rooted in one fella and one fella only. His name is Ruben. Ruben Effing Amaro (that middle name is still surreptitiously unofficial).
Why? Why such distaste for one man?
Because he gave a mighty slugger who is notoriously awful against left-handed pitching the contract extension of all contract extensions — a mesmerizing $25 million a year… for 2012 to 2016 — causing massive migraine headaches for we Cardinals fans already obsessively worrying about Albert Pujols’ future with the team.
Yeah. Ryan Howard is good. But $25 million a year? He ain’t that good.
And anyone who has ever seen the game of baseball can tell you that Albert Pujols is LIGHT YEARS better than Ryan Howard, in all aspects of the game. All… of… them.
So if Howard is worth $25 million a year, then Albert is worth $30-$32 million a year, which means that if I want A.P. to remain a Cardinal for life, I and the rest of Cardinals Nation better be ready to pay $100 for a bleacher ticket, or imagine a world where Albert isn’t our savior.
(That would kill me by the way)
So thanks a lot, Ruben. Just a week ago, deep down inside, I would have admitted to having a strange yet pleasurable affinity for the Phillies. Dick Allen. Mike Schmidt. Steve Carlton. Pete Rose. Lenny Dykstra. Darren Daulton. Just the thought of those guys grindin’ it out with the “P” on their caps kinda got me excited… and I have no idea why.
They’re dead to me.
And so are you.*
Hate me ‘cuz I give it to ya straight, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
*You’re not really dead. This is what fancy writers like Al and I call “figure of speech”. It can be AWEsome. Like it is here.
It’s good to see Bud Selig worrying about the important things in the game of baseball. Fix the All-Star Game? Nah. Rehabilitate Pete Rose? Nope. Police managerial fashion? Oh yes.
Now, maybe Selig has a reason for this. Perhaps it’s his version of the “broken windows” policy made famous by Giuliani in NYC. The idea is that if you crack down on the small crimes, the big crimes are less likely happen. But I’m really not sure how telling Joe Maddon that he can’t wear an MLB-branded hoodie would have stopped Mark McGwire from juicing.
It might be something else, something a little more personal. I think it comes down to the age old battle between the cool kids and the nerds. Selig may be rich but you don’t have to look at the two guys for long to figure out who has done better with the ladies. Selig could pass for a Dali painting of Bill Gates. SI’s Peter King apparently favorably compared Maddon to Spencer Tracy. Yeah, those are whole different universes on the looks scale.
So, what do the nerds do when they finally get power? They make the cool kids pay for all their previous infractions. Here’s the train of logic and I think you can agree it makes sense: Selig gets beat up in high school because his face is already getting droopy. 50 years later he sees Joe Maddon, equates him with the kids who beat him up and decides he’s going to finally get his revenge. Selig 1 – Baseball 0
I understand that baseball has to have rules surrounding dress. There needs to be some, uh, uniformity (if you’ll pardon the pun). But if instead of focusing on the much more real issues facing baseball this is where you’re going to fight your battles, you’ve just proven once again how unfit you are for the job Mr. Selig.
Remember when you were an adolescent and all the problems in your life were someone else’s fault? Remember when the entire world revolved around you and your desires and everyone else could kiss off? Remember when you spent more time and energy whining and complaining than actually participating in the betterment of the world around you?
Dear readers, you know how I feel about the huff-and-puff man-child Milton Bradley. He’s a waste of talent, an infectious disease, a massive weight on the hopes and dreams of aspiring baseball clubs.
And he just doesn’t get it.
From spinning make-believe stories about Chicago’s evil, racist fan base to bad-mouthing Sweet Lou for something that took place 10 months ago to constantly forgetting how many outs there are in any given frame, Milton Bradley is the ultimate poster child for what is wrong with sports in the 21st century.
Me, me, me, me, me, whaa whaa whaa, me, me, me, me, me!!!
SHUT… THE… ****… UP.
If I were Don Wakamatsu, here is the one thing I would say to this embarrassment of a professional athlete:
“Don’t say a friggin’ word. And don’t make your customary grimacing faces, don’t stare down umps, don’t do anything but play baseball all season long. If you break these rules, you’re gone. No questions. Gone. Outta here. See ya. Go away. Never come back.”
And no, I wouldn’t care how much money I had to pay him to leave.
In an era where seemingly nothing is certain, the one thing that can be counted on is that Milton Bradley will destroy his own team. He has proved it over and over again throughout his entire career.
And to be quite honest, he makes me want to throw-up.
So don’t hate me (yeah, I mean you, Milton), because 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*)