Regardless of where you were Tuesday evening – staring at your grill trying to invent the perfect combination of steak and hot dogs, say, or combating the bottom-left corner of the New York Times crossword puzzle – you probably paused and looked skyward for a moment.  Perhaps the air smelled a little sharper, somehow, tinged with lilac, conjuring non-existent memories of ancient, pastoral hillsides.  Perhaps the pain under your shoulder blades waned, or you noticed a shade of emerald in your vision that you needed to remember, to close your eyes and lock away.  Somehow, though, life just felt right for a mere second, as if every atom were arranged perfectly, every effect the rightful output of its cause.

I promise you that it was not imagined.  At that moment, out by Cunningham Ridge outside Kansas City, order was restored.

(Clicking on the picture will transport you via magic to MLB.com’s video highlight.)

Read the rest of this entry »

Given what we have long known about Mose Schrute of “The Office” and his baseball-ing double life, can the following striking resemblance come as any surprise?

First, Mose Schrute …

And now here’s major-league closer turned fearless opinion-shaper, Mitch Williams …

Not many beards these days say, “I was named for an Old Testament character, and I occasionally entertain the darkest of thoughts while churning butter,” but these two beards say exactly that. Can it possibly be a coincidence?

It has become apparent John Axford has recently joined or is petitioning for membership in the ever-popular bike gang the Hell’s Brewers. His time-tested, well-feared facial hair arrangement tells us his in fact a shoe-in:

Click to reverse-shrink it!

For reference, here is John Axford a mere 30 years ago:

And here is John Axford circa yesterday, on his way to the ballpark:

If you’re the sort of person who possesses a Y chromosome — and the anatomical features that come along with same — you’re very likely also the sort of person who understands intimately what sort of pain Brewer catcher Jonathan Lucroy experienced directly after this encounter with a foul ball off the bat of Rays outfielder Matt Joyce in the sixth inning of Tuesday night’s contest between Tampa Bay and Milwaukee.

Read the rest of this entry »

The following has already been linked to over at Mission Control, but IIATMS’s viciously sublime takedown of the McCourts is more than worth your while. Even in this day and age, when news of corporate malfeasance is mere background music, this raises one’s hackles. For damn instance:

How did the Dodgers manage to fund the McCourt lifestyle? Let’s start with salaries: Jamie McCourt received up to $2 million annually for her services as Dodgers’ CEO. Frank McCourt received up to $5 million annually from one or more businesses affiliated with the Dodgers. The Dodgers also paid up to $600,000 in annual salary to two of the McCourt children, one of whom was attending Stanford University and the other of whom had a full-time job at Goldman Sachs.

But $7.6 million a year was not nearly enough money to meet the needs (estimated at over $2 million a month) of the McCourt family. The McCourts spent money at a rate that turned heads, even in Los Angeles. Best known is the McCourt appetite for real estate. After buying the team, the McCourts proceeded to buy four homes in Los Angeles – two in Malibu, two near the Playboy Mansion – at a combined cost of around $89 million. This figure includes the estimated cost of McCourt “improvements” to these homes, including a roughly $14 million bill for tearing out tennis courts at one property and replacing them with a swimming pool. Then there were the other expenses: the vacation properties, the private jet, the private drivers, the hairdresser who worked exclusively for the McCourts five days a week … the list goes on and on. Here’s an expense that’s one of my personal favorites: over one 18-month period, Jamie McCourt paid over $100,000 to various florists, and charged the Dodgers for the expense.

There’s more. So, so, so, so much more. These people are beasts. I don’t wish death upon anyone, so instead I’ll hope that these two, upon being forced to live in the woods by the bankruptcy court, get permanent chicken pox.

Up here in Canada, we’re still grappling with the tough questions: Why? Why, after their Canucks lost game seven, did those laid back Vancouverites decide to show the folks in Montreal how it’s really done? What is it about hockey that makes the average, beer-drinking, eh-saying Canadian lose, well, his or her shit?

We’ll likely never know.

But that’s hardly the point. The point is: NotGraphs Investigative Reporting Investigation Team correspondent Steve, whose last name we have concealed in order to protect his identity, captured the footage above from Wednesday night. Below is his report:

After he finished making the calls at third base between the Angels and Mariners on Wednesday night, the Great Ejector took his talents where they were badly needed. He caught the Cascade up to Canada and used his immaculate talents for the greater good, clearing the hooligans and ruffians from the streets alongside Vancouver’s finest. However, it is unclear to this day if Mr. West is ejecting the defeated Canucks fan or the officer who dared sully the good name of the Vancouver P.D. by carrying his riot gear upside down.

I know; Steve does great work. Much like Joe West.

Seriously. Thanks, Steve.

Jack McKeon hasn’t been the boss for a day and the man is already making power moves. In the first official act of his second term as the manager of the Marlins, McKeon benched Hanley Ramirez for last night’s game against the Angels. Benching Hanley Ramirez is, after all, the way for a Marlins manager to declare his arrival, sort of like the new President and First Lady refurnishing the White House.

Fox Sports has the report:

When asked if there was a particular reason the star shortstop was not in the lineup, McKeon reportedly said, “Yeah, because I didn’t put him in there.”

But team sources told The Post McKeon made the move after Ramirez arrived late for a 3:30pm local time team meeting.

In eighth grade, I had a Spanish teacher named Mr. Ehling. He was a young guy and it was his first year as a teacher. He seemed smart, earnest, and certainly more than capable of conveying the subject matter to thirteen-year-olds, but he had a fatal flaw: he was a nice guy. I think he sincerely believed that he could be friends with every student in the class. Somewhat relatedly, he was a total pushover. Middle and high school students can sense pushovers like a shark does blood in the water, and they strike just as quick.

Read the rest of this entry »

NBC Universal’s “The More You Know” star doesn’t toss itself, you know.

Big ups: Shockingly enough, to NBC Universal. And Joe West. Always Joe West.

It’s time for another installment of “Shorter Baseball Columnists,” in which we read mainstream baseball columnists and marginalized bloggers like Murray Chass so you don’t have to! Let us begin!

Shorter Bill Plaschke: You won’t believe how many metaphors I’ve come up with to express Frank McCourt’s unpopularity.

Shorter Mike Lupica: You might think this odd, but in the process of writing at length about the AL East, I’m going to mention the Mets and LeBron James more often than I mention the Rays.

Shorter Wallace Matthews: Nick Swisher hit a home run against the Cubs. Take that, White Sox.

Shorter Murray Chass: Omar Minaya was a good GM. I’m pretty sure his mistakes were Jeff Wilpon’s fault.

Shorter Bill Conlin: I think the Rays would do well to move to a city with one of the worst local economies in the world.

Shorter Dan Shaughnessy: Let’s see, where did I put my “Man of the People” britches?

The “Shorter” approach to Internetty commentary traces back, as best as one can tell, to Daniel Davies.

And you’re too late – Eduardo Nunez is on the way.

Okay, enough with the Bon Jovi crap. It’s really the wrong music for this GIFtasm from River Avenue Blues. More likely, you have circus music going through your head as you appreciate the beauty that is the infield-single-man-down. Though circus music doesn’t quite provide the correct background for the violence that was done to Ramiro Pena. Maybe something booming and a little whimsical. Maybe dancehall?

Also, whatever the soundtrack, this seems like a uniquely baseballish event. Maybe it’s just getting caught up in the glory, but doesn’t baseball seem like the best place to find iconic moments like this? I’m thinking of that baseball bouncing out of Ryan Raburn’s glove, or the time Jose Canseco brained the ball over the wall, or maybe even that bird Randy Johnson killed.

Baseball: where ridiculous happens more often than any other sport.

H/T: Jonah Keri