Look: A cake made to resemble one of the Brewers’ racing sausages!
On the other hand, the cake is plainly crafted as an homage to Guido, the Italian racing sausage. The problem is that Guido wears no. 3. The faux Guido made out of stupid buttercream frosting is wearing no. 1.
So nice try, “Noah.” Or should I say, “Al Qaeda.”
My greatest acquisition from this past weekend’s trip (alongside the internet’s Common Man) to TwinsFest in Minneapolis was not, if you can believe it, the baseball which now bears the authographs of (both!) Chris Herrmann and Alex Wimmers, nor the memory of a brief, but spirited, exchange with the very bad J.R. Richard. Rather, it was an introduction to the oddity that is the 2010 edition of Upper Deck baseball cards.
Apart from the autograph stations, the main attraction of TwinsFest is the copious amounts of baseball-related memorabilia being sold by the only slightly less copious number of baseball-memorabilia vendors. The Common Man has already documented his inability to restrain himself wherein the coveting of baseball cards is concerned. For the present author, however, the event represented the first time I’d thought of baseball cards at any length since probably 1992.
The 1986 MLB season is the first that I can remember. The main reason that I remember it was 1986, I think, is that it was the year that I started collecting baseball cards — those Topps cards being so recognizable to me now.
While I grew up in Milwaukee, one of my mom’s best friends lived in Long Island at the time and was/is a huge Mets fan. Starting in 1986, he would collect all of the Mets cards from the year’s Topps set and send them to me. I remember Darryl Strawberry and Gary Carter being big, though I wouldn’t comprehend the extent of their greatness or tragedy until twenty years later. Read the rest of this entry »
To Whom It May Concern:
Hello. This is J.G. Taylor Spink Award winner and New York Times baseball scribe emeritus Murray Chass. I am writing to inquire about the open position in the “MLB Fan Cave” for which I have received numerous electronic mail solicitations.
With respect to my qualifications for the position, I think my curriculum vitae speaks for itself. Let me repeat: J.G. Taylor Spink, New York Times, Associated Press, BBWAA, etc. I have enclosed a copy herewith.
Now that we have those formalities out of the way, I would like to discuss my vision for this year’s cave as well as the terms and conditions under which I will accept your offer for employment for the 2012 season.
In which the Royal We insert Dick Allen’s name into various works representative of the Western Canon, thus adding to those various works the patina of blessedness.
Today’s episode: A brother pleads with his sister to understand the immense power of Dick Allen, in J.D. Salinger’s other book, “Franny and Zooey.”
Among the many losses endured by the Boston Red Sox this offseason, none was so loudly mourned as that of Heidi Watney, NESN’s erstwhile and comely foul-territory reporter. However, as the Internetting Gentleman with the Web-enabled computer may already know, Ms. Watney now has a replacement. Please meet Ms. Jenny Dell. Click to make the image more turgid, swollen, erect, dilated, and puffy:
Just how much of a bawdy minx is Ms. Dell? Well, contrary to appearances, that’s not a Halloween party pictured above; that’s her uncle’s wake. So consider her your clubhouse leader for the 2012 ESPY for “Best Journalism Cans.”
As always and forever, though, make mine Julia Ormond.
As I was unafraid to note at the main site today, Detroit Tiger Andy Dirks and all the other Leones of Escogido will represent the Dominican in the upcoming Caribbean Series in Santo Domingo.
The abovely embedded is the aforementioned gringo Dirks ganador-ing the hell out of the game on behalf of Escogido. Because my Spanish is poor, I can’t relate precisely what the commentator is saying — although, I’m pretty sure it includes five Our Fathers and a Hail Mary.
Skip to the 3:07 mark or thereabouts for a replay of Dirks’ heroics and reaction to same. The tingle in your loins means it’s working.
A cursory look into Bob Anderson and his wikipedia page last week uncovered one of the wackiest plays in baseball history. Of course, it made sense to diagram it.
In which photos of the base-balling Reuschel brothers, Rick and Paul, are paired with befitting movie titles …
Among the things that are always funny — along with taking your pants off at an area H&R Block location and then, later that same day, taking your pants off again at an area Jackson Hewitt location — is when somebody asks the Atlanta Journal Constitution‘s David O’Brien about the Braves bench but misspells the word shot and then David O’Brien answers the question anyway and then a blogger notices it and takes a screen cap of it and writes a post all about it and then cries because his life is just a husk of a life.