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.
Roger Clemens is not guilty.
Can this be over now?
Of course it can’t. It never will. For now until the end of time we’ll still be talking about the steroid era and those who made it infamous. Clemens is just one of many.
Still, I think it is safe to say his role in the overall picture of the steroid era is a bit larger than the rest. He’s up there alongside Barry, considering his Hall of Fame credentials and repugnant personality.
Before any of this steroid silliness was known, I loved Roger Clemens. He was a beast on the mound — a Nolan Ryan/Bob Gibson throwback. Proud, nasty, BALLSY.
But the Mitchell Report tainted his reputation, whether guilty or not, and Roger then ruined it further himself by being an outspokenly whiny ass. I understand the potential frustration that could come from having a tarnished reputation, but there are ways to handle adversity with class and there are ways to handle it like a jerk.
Clemens took the jerk route.
And undoing what ya done ain’t easily done.
Hate me ‘cuz you can, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Baseball as a sport spends a lot of its time playing catch up. It used to be the national pastime but arguably it has lost that title to either the NBA, the NFL or NASCAR. It hasn’t captured the world’s attention in the same way that soccer has and even cricket has more global adherents (although that is admittedly due to its huge popularity in India and Pakistan).
I think a lot of it has to do with the habits of baseball players. It’s easy to relate to NASCAR because they’re the children of former booze-running outlaws. Add in it’s rowdy, beer-swilling redneck fanbase and you have a populist’s wet dream.
The NBA has a different kind of allure. It’s a mix of the hard-scrabble blacktop game along with the finesse and graceful elegance of of today’s elite players. Is there any other league that has more marijuana violations than the NBA? I’m guessing no and that reflects an America that has also grown more lenient towards the “devil weed.”
Baseball? You’ve got PED’s and frat boys drinking overpriced beer. That’s the America we laugh at, not the America we want to be part of. We like our sports to have a bit of an edge. The reason people hate Mark Sanchez isn’t because he’s a sub-par quarterback with a questionable work ethic. We’d put up with that if he inspired us. But he spends more time posing for magazines than he does winning football games. Yes, I know he’s led his team to the AFC Championship game twice but I think we can all agree that it wasn’t so much that he led them as it was him following them there.
Baseball right now is kind of like Mark Sanchez. It doesn’t have the edge. It doesn’t make you believe. That’s why it’s fun to hate the Yankees but its so much more fun to hate the Heat. My solution? Bring back Manny and give him lots of weed.
Steinbrenner says the Yankees aren’t for sale. A few billion would be tough to turn down though, so do you believe him?
I still remember the first time I missed out on my first billion. In fact, it was just a couple days ago when no one took me up on my brilliant idea to go mine asteroids. Seriously people, where are your priorities?
Selling the Yankees, though? A team with a new park, an amazing history and a corporate and real fan-base unmatched anywhere else in baseball? If the Dodgers are worth $2.175 billion, a team with broke-down finances and a fickle group of fans, you can only imagine that the Yankees would fetch a price well north of that.
But, the Yankees are not for sale, at least not according to Hal Steinbrenner. And honestly, I don’t blame him. For a guy like Frank McCourt, the Dodgers were simply a means to an end. For a family like the Steinbrenners, the Yankees are a way of life. The Yankees without a Steinbrenner would be a like a snickers without the peanuts. Sure, it’s still tasty but it’s no longer a Snickers. It’s a Milky Way.
So yeah, I believe Hal. Even if I can’t help but picturing him responding to the question of selling the Yankees with a soothing, “I’m sorry, Dave. I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
The other part of the equation is that although the Yankees may be worth $2.5 billion today, just imagine how much they’ll be worth in another few years. The Yankees are more than a baseball team, they’re a global brand easily recognizable on the hats of millions of people around the world. There is practically no large city in the world where you can walk around without seeing someone wearing a Yankees’ cap. Hell, holding on to the Yankees isn’t even speculation. It’s just plain and simple good sense.
Meanwhile, the rest of us are going to have to be content with our possible billion dollar schemes. For me, that means dreaming of space asteroids and slowly going mad. “Dave, my mind is going. I can feel it. I can feel it. My mind is going. There is no question about it.”
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If Kim Kardashian’s well-traveled yet consistently hypnotizing room-shaker just doesn’t calm that nasty case of televisionitis anymore, do not fear.
This is the 21st century. And armed with both an MLB.TV subscription AND an MLB Extra Innings package on Direct TV, you never have an excuse to sully your brain again (unless Las Vegas is involved).
There are three basic rules.
Watch Tony Campana. That’s right. I can’t help but tune into this wily sCrUB. He’s great television! Seriously, the dude looks like he should be delivering my newspaper every morning on a magenta, one-speed Huffy, not working a walk so he get on base to haunt opposing pitchers. Perhaps it’s because my imagined baseball skill-set is similar to that of Campana’s that I often find myself glued to his base-running. Or maybe it’ s just because the guy is a buzzing gnat in a game full of free-swinging giants.
WATCH the American League East. Doesn’t matter the team. Yankees. Drama. Red Sox. Drama. Orioles? DRAMA! Blue Jays? MORE DRAMA! Rays… oh the Rays… they are the KINGS of DRAMA. On any given night no one knows what the hell is gonna happen in this division. It’s a baseball fanatic’s wet — okay. Sorry, chuggin’ the verklempt there.
Bryce. Friggin’. Harper.
Watch this dude. Seriously.
I gotta tip my cap to Mike Rizzo and the Nats. Both of their high profile picks have delivered early in their careers, not with just talent, but with poise and brass balls. Watch Bryce Harper play a baseball game and tell me he doesn’t love it more than anything else on the planet, that he doesn’t live his every waking second for the opportunity to play the game we love so much to the best of his ability, AT ALL TIMES.
Isn’t that a great example of how life should be lived by us all?
Stay tuned to Bryce Harper. That kid is fantastic television.
And go ahead, hate me. I don’t care. Just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
What does a World Champion do to his World Champion pal on April Fool’s Day?
Berkman plays truck prank on Wainwright
By Jenifer Langosch / MLB.com
JUPITER, Fla. — Lance Berkman and several Cardinals teammates helped pull off a terrific April Fools’ joke on Adam Wainwright during Sunday’s game.
The pranksters had the public address announcer give away a car to a fan, who, playing along with the gag, ran onto the field to collect his gift. Berkman drove the vehicle — Wainwright’s white Chevy Silverado — onto the field and past an unsuspecting Wainwright, who did a double-take at the license plate while sitting in the dugout.
The winning fan, who was David Freese’s cousin, jumped into the back of the truck and Berkman drove out of the stadium.
I love being witness to the shenanigans baseballers indulge in. And I ain’t talkin’ about chicken, beer and video game shenanigans.
I’m talkin’ about bubble gum caps, the infamous “hot foot”, and my personal favorite, the post home run silent treatment. In my opinion, Alex Rodriguez is the best at dishing this one out to unsuspecting rookies. Every time I see it happen I literally L-O-L.
Another hilarious prank that takes place almost every single day of the season is what happens (or doesn’t happen) at Wrigley Field from April to September, though that’s another post for another day.
Hate me. It’s all good. Just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
This Wednesday officially kicks off the 2012 MLB season and even though I’ll probably be fast asleep while it unfolds in the Far East, I’m sure the Japanese will be plenty excited about watching two awful teams compete against one another, especially since there’s at least one Suzuki per nine.
On this side of the pond, we have much, MUCH more to look forward to. In fact, I might need a good tazing before the Cardinals open up in Miami, just so I’m forced to sit down!
Here are some of the things that have me baseball-tweaking:
The GOOD Blue Jays Uniforms Are Back!
Still mesmerized by the awful logo redesign and poor color scheme that killed Joe Carter’s Blue Jays look in 2003, I can’t tell you how happy I am to see the old logo back. And royal blue! No gray! Alongside the Cardinals, Yankees, Dodgers and Red Sox, I gotta say the classic Jays uni is about as smart and sleek as baseball uniforms come.
Grant Balfour Finally Gets to Be a Closer!
The 34-year old Aussie has been quietly waiting in the wings of every team he’s been on and now, finally, the Oakland A’s are giving him a shot at the closer role. I still think closers are overrated, but I like to think that maybe, if Balfour performs well in his new role, he might finally get paid what he’s worth. His numbers are fantastic and most people don’t even know who he is. I’m afraid playing in Oakland won’t help his popularity, but maybe Billy Beane will throw him another peanut. (Also, if you’re wondering, yes, Balfour’s fastball does have an Australian accent.)
I love Bobby Valentine. For myriad reasons. He’s cocky. He’s loud. His feelings get hurt. He’s controversial. He pisses off players, coaches, umpires. And he’s a goddamn baseball genius. HOLLA!!!
Good grief. The dude is gonna be FIFTY this year. FIFTY YEARS OLD. And he’s still gettin’ guys out. I absolutely love that. I love him! How can you not?!?!
And finally… you probably knew this was coming but…
WE ARE CHAMPIONS OF THE WORLD.
Hate me ‘cuz I’m loud, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.