Buck Showalter doesn’t understand today’s kids, what with their Pokemon cards and their cans of Four Loko and their breakdancing and their Jordache jeans. What he really doesn’t understand, though, is why someone can’t just sing the damn National Anthem the way the composers — John Wayne, Patrick Henry and Superman — intended …
If it makes you feel any better, Buck, know that it gets worse. So, so much worse …
(Gratitude in song: Parker Hageman)
That beautiful mustachioed gentleman you see there is Mr. Josh Collmenter, circa July 2008. If Mr. Collmenter’s name sounds familiar, it’s either because (a) you read about his unique pitching delivery in these pages last November, (b) you read about his recent promotion two days ago at our buttoned-up parent site, or (c) it just sounds like a pretty normal American name. (Please note: those are the only three possible ways you’ve ever heard Josh Collmenter’s name. Don’t even start pretending like there’s some fourth way or something. That’s ridiculous.)
Being the sort of person who’s paid handsomely just to sit at home and amuse himself, I was watching this afternoon’s contest between Collmenter’s Diamondbacks and the Cardinals of St . Louis when broadcaster Matt Vasgersian made reference to a promotion in which Collmenter had played a major role while a minor-leaguer with the Sound Bend Silver Hawks — a promotion called Mustache Appreciation Night.
Let me repeat that in red Comic Sans just case you’re impaired in one way or another. What I said was:
The pitch you see here was (a) thrown by Daniel Bard to Nick Swisher last year and (b) appears to possess changeup-type (or at least two-seam fastball-type) movement while also traveling at 99 mph.
Sean Murphy, who’s preserved the above-embedded GIF at his site, refers to the sequence as “baseball porn” — and for good reason, too: there’s something equal parts filthy, captivating, and primeval about what Bard’s able to do with/to/all up on a baseball.
Yesternight, Oakland starters Brett Anderson and Brandon McCarthy got to tweeting about this pitch — a conversation to which Man About the Internet @BigMike05 alerted me. Mr. Big Mike was also curious about how we might accurately characterize this pitch which, it must be said, defies superlatives.
As I say, filth is the definitive quality of the offering. Watching this pitch is like watching Christina Aguilera give a lap dance to a side of beef — i.e. both disgusting and impossible to look away from.
The question is, what ought we to call such a pitch?
Some ideas, from the dirtiest part of Dirtville:
• The Slavic Tongue Kiss — Tongue-kissing can be romantic, but not the way they do it in Eastern Europe.
• The Pantless Velociraptor — A velociraptor with pants is bad enough.
• The Well-Oiled Ambassador — Oiled with what, exactly?
• Hepatitis K — The filthiest possible virus.
• The Moist Handshake — Ick. Not so nice to meet you, actually.
Commenter/muscled philosopher Dave, sensing my ignorance of post-mid 1980s baseball cards, observes that there’s another extant image of Mickey Hatcher and his hulksome fly-catcher. Please enjoy:
And on the back of this 1991 Upper Deck action snapshot, you’ll find that Mickey Hatcher puts out small fires with the vigor and efficiency of a man who puts out small fires with vigor and efficiency …
Still and yet, though …
Today, thorough investigation of the Baseball-Reference website revealed a very shocking fact: namely, Jonny Gomes’s middle name.
Hold on, we need to zoom in here.
Just a little more…
Nope, you’re losing me.
Hey, there it is!
That’s right. Jonny Gomes’s middle name is “Johnson.” It’s hard to sum that up better than my friend Dan, who after hearing this news, declared “What a douche” of Gomes. And really, out of this guy, maybe we shouldn’t be too surprised:
Joe West would not have countenanced such tomfoolery, but Mickey Hatcher had a giant glove …
I don’t know much, but I know that Mickey Hatcher had a giant glove.
This is a video still of third-base umpire Angel Hernandez, from the 8th inning of last night’s Indians-Royals game.
As someone who watched this game in its entirety, I can assure you that, almost immediately after this particular moment, Hernandez killed — in evermore grotesque and harrowing ways — all the players and coaches of both teams involved.
With Cody Ross set to return to the San Francisco Giants lineup tonight, it’s a toss up between Giants fans and Aubrey Huff as to who’s more excited.
Upon learning that Ross was ready to make his debut, the San Francisco Chronicle reports that Huff texted Ross the following:
Thank God you’re back. I can go back to first base.
After Huff’s adventures in the outfield, I think that’s something we can all get behind. At the same time, what about Brandon Belt, Aubrey? It’s Belt’s birthday, for crying out loud! And what about my Belt-owned fantasy team, Aubrey? So selfish.
In all honesty, I find Ross’s return mostly meaningful because it finally gives me the opportunity to post the photo above, a play on rapper Rick Ross’ “Rise to Power” album cover. A pretty damn good play, too, if I must say so myself, courtesy of the folks at The City Graphics.
Ross’ rise to power in last year’s postseason was something else. From zero to hero. It’s one thing to homer off robot Roy Halladay. But to do it twice, in the NLCS? My word. And that beard. What a beard. I had the NotGraphs Investigative Reporting Investigation Team confirm my suspicions: Even the beard is Boss.
In San Francisco, Ross is Boss. Actually, Ross remains Boss. And the Boss is back.
ADDENDUM: Brandon Belt’s been sent down. Blame the Boss, if you must. I blame Aubrey.
We receive quite a bit of mail here at NotGraphs’ headquarters, much of it inappropriate either in a sexual way or spiritual way or other type of way.
That said, we occasionally receive correspondence of some merit, too. Below are three recent examples of same, with responses of varying quality.
(Note: got a pressing question or incisive comment for NotGraphs? Feel free to fire it through the internet to not+tips@fangraphs.com!)
Now, on to the letters:
Is it true that, like a fractal or most things found in nature, all the posts at NotGraphs are composed according to the ratio of numbers in the Fibonacci sequence?
— Steven in Toronto
Very observant! And, in fact, you’re correct — for everyone except Dayn Perry, that is. Perry, having been born in Mississippi (i.e. a state in which it was actually illegal to be Italian until 1989) is starkly opposed to all things Italian. Italian food, Italian integer sequences, even italicized words: Perry firmly rejects all of it.
Where is Joe West right this second?
— Tony in Worcester
Look behind you, Tony!
You’re doing our work. Keep it up!
— All the gods of all the religions
Thanks!
It never would have occurred to me that Jim Thome could’ve made a nifty Paul Bunyan, but that’s mostly because no one ever asked me, “Dayn, do you think Jim Thome could make a nifty Paul Bunyan?”
Had someone posed that question — and, really, I’m not sure why no one has — I would have said, “Yes, yes, now that I think about it, I do believe that Jim Thome could make a nifty Paul Bunyan.”
Turns out my instincts, as always, were spot-on …
