Mere hours ago, I attended a Boston Red Sox-Florida Marlins game with my 90-year-old grandfather, Philip (né Filippo) Cistulli. Below is a brief account of same.

Before I begin in earnest, some brief information about my grandfather: he’s originally from Bristol, Connecticut, son of immigrants. After his father died (when my grandfather was quite young), he resolved more or less to become The World’s Greatest Pater Familias. By most accounts, he succeeded. He’s now a widower who splits his time between Florida and the Boston area.

Another note: despite the fact that my grandfather’s story could very well be rendered beautifully and heartbreakingly by someone so inclined to do such a thing, Carson Cistulli is decidedly not that writer. Most of our interactions consist of him offering career advice and me pretending I know better. It would be disingenuous to represent them otherwise.

Now, here:

Five Brief Conversations We Had
ONE
Me: Grandpa, you mind if I write about our trip to the game this afternoon?

Grandfather: I’d be honored — so long as you don’t write anything stupid.

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That’s Oddibe McDowell! This is one of Oddibe McDowell’s recent water bills! Please enjoy, and I hope you didn’t have any pressing obligations for the rest of the afternoon!

Social-media experts agree: Nothing builds the brand quite like awkward rap. This lesson is not lost on the folks at NESN. Indeed, the Masshole Mothership has, presumably with sanction and advance planning, released this felonious assault against Hip Hop.

Said video does not make me want to drink deeply of Red Sox Nation and its countless tentacles. It does, however, make me want to deliver a solemn apology to DJ Kool Herc for what we have wrought.

My man Steex is at it again. And in the process, yes, he has raised the bar.

Great Tiger, by technical knockout, you’re gone!

Little Mac, you’re cool.

Thanks Steex. And remember: if you’ve sent Joe West on an adventure, let us know about it. Let us share it with the world. Hit us up via the Team NotGraphs Hot Hotline.

Some people go to Spring Training games to see the stars prepare for the regular season, like starting pitcher Ubaldo Jimenez in a Rockies-Padres game at Salt River Fields earlier this spring. Some of us, however, go to see players like the 9th batter in this Rockies lineup:

In fact, I was so impressed by Unknown that I headed straight to the Rockies’ team store and dialed up his jersey! Check it out.

(Click to embiggen)

Beautiful, isn’t it? The sleeveless look is perfect for me, as I don’t plan on wearing any undershirts with this jersey.

By the way, the MLB.com website was extremely complimentary of my selection:

Thanks kindly, MLB!

It’s been said that a cynic is a man who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing.

I am a set collector, complete with price guides, plastic sheets and graded cards. Without even consulting a Beckett I can tell you that the book of a first series 1966 common card in Near Mint condition is $1.50; at the same time I can tell you that this card is in a considerably lesser grade.

How would you grade this card? The soft corners, poor centering and multiple creases plunge it towards the Good range and then the stain on the card sends it directly to the Poor category. Forget about $1.50 – if you tried to sell this card on ebay you would be lucky to get two cents for it.

Yet if asked to name the favorite card in my collection, this would be one of the first ones I would mention. This hand-me-down card from one of my older brothers of Johnny Stephenson, a worthless backup catcher who put up an almost impossible to duplicate .225 wOBA in 153 PA for a team that lost 95 games.

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If you’re reading this, you have undoubtedly heard about the cool new version of fantasy called ottoneu. According to ottoneu’s creator, Niv Shah, “[t]he name ‘ottoneu’ is derived from Otto Neu, a shortstop who played in one game in 1917 for the St. Louis Browns. In this game against the Yankees, he did not have a fielding chance or an at-bat.” Sounds reasonable, right? Catchy and obscurely baseball-ey? A likely story… too likely. But I was curious, so I dug deeper.

Does THIS look familiar, Mr. Shah?

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Earl Weaver was one of the greatest managers of all-time. He was also, when it comes to the use of profanity, delivered to us straight from the firmament. What follows is perhaps Weaver at his most resplendent. Among the things you will learn: Fleas steal bases, Terry Crowley’s roster spot is an act of almsgiving, and some things are more important than tomato plants. And, in the name of all that is holy, this is not safe for work …

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9YKxf3OkpJc&playnext=1&list=PL15C099B073554987

And for the kids who prefer things set to the throbbing beats of rave parties, there’s this …

Also:

Reader and writer Bryz directs us to this image of Eric Sogard (from the latter’s MLB.com page), whose omission from Team Joy Squad may or may not represent an error on the part of this author.

It warms my most Canadian of Canadian hearts to know that I’m not the only one enjoying the incredible Adventures of Joe West. You, dear readers, have too embraced The Great Ejector.

Joe West’s latest escapade comes courtesy of Maine’s finest, William Tasker, and has Mr. West on the high seas. Well, not exactly the high seas, but there’s water involved.

Witness:

Joe West is everywhere. Hold on tight, little lady, otherwise … you’re gone!

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