I don’t consider myself a GIF wizard, but I certainly don’t need a Tome of GIF Spells to know when an event is GIF-worthy. Dayn Perry’s recently analogued fan interference play involving Justin Upton was just such an event. All that was missing from the scene: An exhortation to deal with said scene.
Cue GIF:
Apologies, apologies all around, for the long load time, but majesty is ill-rushed.
The Tampa Bay Rays have not had a proper submission to the Mustache Watch archives since the days of Dale Thayer — which actually predates the Watch — so it is good to see them aim for a late-season push with quality submissions such as the above-featured John Jaso.
In the presented image, we Jaso’s mantastic face-stache displays some of its incredible flexibility, miming the governial concernedness of Nehemiah Green, Kansas’s most famous fourth governor:
Double Secret Suspension! The worst of all suspensions!
Well, needless to say, Chicago’s northside has entered full-on circus mode — an annual tradition for the Cubs. Their one-time ace (though not a real ace by any non-Cubs standards) has essentially left the team after getting blown up by Chipper Jones and the Atlanta Braves.
The Cubs management, ever-eager to dump his contract, have done their darnedest to accommodate his brief flirtations with retirement while the Chicago media does its bestest efforts to paint the portrait of an irate, insane, ungrateful Venezuelan. Well, amidst this fine display of hatchetry, let us delve into the archives of a one Steve Rosenbloom, a lumberjack among woodpeckers, and enjoy a brief UETAMEJ of his piece entitled: “Can the Cubs out-stupid Zambrano?”
What is UETAMEJ? Inventor Dayn Perry defines it as, “Using Ellipses Toward A More Evil Journalism,” and thief Bradley Woodrum pronounces you-da-mage, like a gangsta complimenting a wizard.
In the following article, Rosenbloom chastises Zambrano for flying to Guatemala to adopt his son, but the UETAMEJ helps tell the real story. Engage the ellipses!
Steve Rosenbloom … can make … Zambrano … seem to have a body of stupidity …
It’s a close battle, I’m … a bad … neutered … goof … as tone deaf as the Fanboy Owner … reaching new and difference [sic] levels of stupidity.
Zambrano … pantsed … the big goof … on an airplane. This spasm of lucidity could impact the Cubs’ chances reaching first place in the Frickin’ Idiot League.
Now get a load of this: Zambrano plans to … say “…Dopes all around, it looks like.[“] …
[To which] his manager … says, “Thank you, sir, … I … hasn’t seemed sharp mentally or physically … Stinking it up is certainly a way to guarantee a lifetime in a Cubs uniform.[“]
… [I]t has been … time … for stupidity at Wrigley …
Anyway, back to lesson [sic] here: … Zambrano … was … [t]he only reason … fans … didn’t .. like [the] Cubs … the best baseball organization …
[Now the] Cubs … [will] try to con everybody into thinking … this ought to be exciting …
Seriously, how can a man working for a proper newspaper have 2 very real typos in a column that’s less than 600 words? I have 1 typo between 3 posts of 1000 words, and commenters send me anthrax-laced envelopes!
Kudos to Carlos Zambrano for putting in ten years at the most backward baseball organization outside of Kansas City. I would’ve gone nuts in four.
Faithful NotGraphs reader P. Agnello brought this little dandy to our attention:
Why yes, that would be real Americans digging through real trash for a real foul ball and then getting into a real fight for said Trash Ball.
After the frenzied waste-search led to a frenzied trash fight, ballpark security had to intervene. According the intrepid Todd Kalas: “Bad behavior; nobody gets the prize.”
Leave it to TK to use a semicolon in speech. Well, nonetheless, that real foul ball became real trash in a slightly askew retelling of Solomon’s Judgement, a retelling in which neither mother relents and the baseball ends up in Sheol.
Oddly enough, this may not be the most epic dumpster dive in baseball history.
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Pete Rambo
Ol’ Rambo pitched in one game, just 3 and 2/3 innings, with the Phillies in 1926. There’s not much more known about Warren Dawson Rambo (somehow “Pete” for short). He pitched for the Cumberland Colts minor league team for a pair of seemingly strong seasons in 1926 and 1927, but never made a significant imprint on the majors.
Here is an artistic rendering of what Pete Rambo may have look liked:
It is a widely accepted fact that Wikipedia is the pulse of all that is humanity. It provides a compendium of both the key elements of our history, as well as an archive of fun facts. However, many Wikipedia users are unaware of the secret underbelly of Wikipedia, the sacred texts of the history section.
Next time you are looking up the history of the crepe or the works of an American Poet, consider taking a gander at the history tab.
Inside the history section, one finds a deluge of deliberately confusing nerd code, but if you randomly click around for a little while, you may end up with dandy’s like this one from an old Todd Hollandsworth entry:
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Loyal NotGraphs reader SkinsNinerFan brought this dandy to our attention. Upon first viewing, it appears as a clip of Jim Thome’s 596th homer and continued march into the annals of baseball history.
Further inspection proves illuminating, as we discover Twins outfielder Delmon Young is in fact a fiend of history:
Suddenly, I realized Delmon’s face seemed familiar, like the last vestiges of an old dream. I began flipping through old copies of my dream journals to no avail. Then, suddenly, during a 7-hour history channel binge last night, I saw it!
Delmon Young had indeed been both present and exceedingly excited at the signing of the Declaration of Independence! His classic and soul-penetrating face of pure exuberance no doubt led artist John Trumbull to immortalize the emotional outbreak in his classic painting. Odd thing is: This is not even a painting of the signing, but merely a submission of the committee’s proposal draft.
Thus, I began searching the NotGraphs database for “time travel” and “oh face.” Sure enough — and just as I had anticipated — Delmon Young was at the Battle of Marathon, where the Athenians fought off the invading forces of Darius the First:
Odd thing is: The Battle of Marathon is most remembered for what happened after it — the marathon run or march, depending on the source, for which the battle remains so famous.
We can clearly establish two facts: Delmon Young has a time-travel device, and Delmon Young has a penchant for the exciting, historical moments that come before the exciting, more historical moments.
The thrilling snake juice investigation concludes with the unbelievable Part 4! Click here for Part 1 or Part 2 or Part 3.
Dr. Supplies spun the van down Addison and slammed on the breaks in front of Wrigley. Justin Smoak, Eliezer Alfonzo, and Billy Beane all jumped out of the side door, running with their rifles at the ready. I took a swig from Eliezer’s snake juice and then followed them, dashing through the rain to the main entrance, where Smoak was unlocking the gate with a hand held device that looked like alien technology.
The gate flung open as the snake juice began to make my head began spin like a kid in an office chair.
“You’re going to feel a little nauseous,” Eliezer said, cocking his M4, “but you should be able to see the portal now.”
We stepped into the main concourse with our eyes down the barrels of our guns. The stadium was empty and dripping. My eyes began losing focus and I shook my head. Suddenly, like some desert-warped mirage, I saw a black figure — a shadow — moving towards us.
“Here they come!” Billy yelled as she began firing.
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The thrilling snake juice investigation continues with the dramatic Part 3! Click here for Part 1 or Part 2.
I woke to see the blonde woman extending an ice pack towards me.
“For your head.”
“Thanks,” I said, still taking the ice pack. “Where are we?”
I looked around to see we were no longer in the helicopter, but instead in some narrow room.
“Um, Tennessee, I think,” she said, peaking over my shoulder.
“Tennessee?” I said, closing my eyes as I pressed the ice gently on my throbbing head.
“Yeah, well, you can’t really reach Illinois without going over Tennessee,” she said with a shrug.
Baffled, I looked over my shoulder to see clouds and mountains slowly moving along.
“We’re in an airplane?”
“I prefer to call it my jet-propelled laboratory,” Dr. Supplies said, entering the cabin. “Billy, I sink you want to see zis.”
Read now Part 2 of the exciting multi-part series: Secrets of Snake Juice Revealed! (For part one, go here.)
Eliezer turned the car down a narrow mountain pass, one where the trees eased in on the right and shear cliff awaited us on the left. He navigated the treacherous dirt road masterfully while Dr. Supplies produced his cell phone and began showing me pictures.
“Human beings are largely comprised of energy,” he said. “Electrical energy zat can leave residues in zis world.”
He showed me a picture of short, blurry silhouette in an empty room. It looked like a black fur coat hanging on a low coat rack, but somehow out of focus and in focus at the same time. The doctor clicked on the cell phone and showed three more similar photos as the car sped up the side of Cerro Vidoño in a plume of dust and clay.
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