I hope you’ve been enjoying the new heatmaps on the site. Here is mine.

The annual Scripps National Spelling Bee — my favorite non-baseball “sporting” event of the year — is on ESPN today and tomorrow. How about our own MLB Spelling Bee? Can you identify and then spell the following fifteen words/names correctly without looking them up? Try your luck in the comments.

1. This FOX broadcaster also broadcasts Reds games along with his father.

2. This is the mascot for the MLB team based in the eastern part of the Keystone State.

3. He’s the current closer for the Mets.

4. This man manages the Brewers.

5. This Padres starting pitcher is currently missing his second consecutive season due to injury.

6. This former major-league manager and 2013 Rockies first-base coach is now a catching instructor and defensive positioning coach for the Rockies.

7. This Cubs starter currently has an ERA of 1.68.

8. This former A’s reliever became a starter in 2008 and finished the year with a 2.54 ERA and a WHIP under 1.

9. This former Braves starter, who made the 2011 All-Star Team, was just signed to a minor league contract by the Reds.

10. This former Rays top shortstop prospect is now serving a harsh punishment on the Phillies (and on their AAA team).

11. This pitcher from Hawaii, formerly a Mariners and Royals reliever, currently plays for the Bridgeport Bluefish of the Atlantic League and has a last name similar to the first baseman for the Yankees.

12. This first baseman was never really given a chance in Kansas City, and didn’t do so well when given a chance in Oakland.

13. This former Blue Jay and Cardinal is currently a member of the Indians bullpen.

14. This man was a backup catcher for the Padres, batting .144 from 1981 through 1984.

15. This former Mariner and Tiger left fielder, first baseman, and third baseman, currently plays in Buffalo for the Blue Jays’ AAA team.

MLB Network presents a brand new slate of shows this summer designed to take your mind off the fact that every pitcher on your favorite team is undergoing Tommy John Surgery.

From the makers of Grey’s Anatomy and So You Think You Can Dance… it’s the brand-new SO YOU THINK YOU CAN THROW A BASEBALL 95 MILES AN HOUR AND NOT END UP HAVING ELBOW SURGERY? Follow three thousand young pitching hopefuls as one by one by fifty by two hundred, they all end up blowing out their elbows and having Tommy John Surgery. Will their surgery be performed by renowned surgeon Dr. James Andrews… or will they draw the “wild card” and have their procedure performed by a nine-year-old boy who saw a video on YouTube about how to do a ligament replacement? You’ll have to watch to find out!

It’s not just a Mets pitching prospect about to undergo an MRI on his elbow… and it’s not just a former closer now pitching for the Cardinals’ AAA team in Memphis… it’s both, on SYNDERGAARDSMA, the impossible story of two pitchers, two dreams, and at least one Tommy John surgery between them, if not more to come. Do you have extra vowels and no uniform to sew them onto? Then you have to call… SYNDERGAARDSMA.

Have you ever wondered about the life of a brand-new hitting coach you’ve never heard of, just hired to replace some other guy you never heard of, trying basically to avoid calling attention to himself and staying out of David Wright’s way? Then you’ll want to DVR every episode of LAMAR! Lamar Johnson, an instructor in the Mets’ system since 2005, just brought up to the big leagues, because what isn’t interesting about a hitting coach for a team that’s probably not going to do very well no matter who the hitting coach is? Will he prefer sunflower seeds, or bubble gum? Gatorade, or water? Wilmer Flores, or Ruben Tejada? Does any of this matter?

What do you get when you combine a White Sox first-year phenom, and a should-be-Hall-of-Famer who probably ought to have retired already? It’s ABREU TIMES TWO, as Jose and Bobby team up to hit home runs (Jose) and, uh… fight crime? (Bobby, I guess.) Is the game on the line? You want Jose! Is there, um, a flood in the bathroom? Maybe Bobby can help. Or at least let you use his cell phone. Trying to intimidate the opposition? Jose! Need to fill out some forms to activate your Social Security? I think Bobby would probably have a better handle on that.

Finally, we’re putting a camera in Manny Ramirez’s hair, and following him around, on HE’S A PLAYER-COACH? REALLY? Are you as confused as I am? Actually, why don’t the Mets hire him as their hitting coach and actual major-league outfielder? No? That isn’t a good idea? Are you sure?

Following up on yesterday’s post, I thought I’d look for the most unappealing pictures I could find on Twitter of the Rangers’ two-foot long, $26 hot dog. This was easy.

#Boomstick pic.twitter.com/lwDrn6Ih5u

— Cadillac Guillen (@OhShootItsChris) May 21, 2014

This happened…. #boomstick pic.twitter.com/13pA5GwkgK

— Pussy Willow Rose (@Manny0208) May 18, 2013

The "we don't negotiate with terrorists" brisket-loaded, nacho hot dog #AMERICA #boomstick finished @MattyLiite pic.twitter.com/dxuBwnyOn8

— Dustin Potter (@dustinpotter115) April 20, 2013

And the winner:

Building on yesterday’s post about Hopeless Joe’s Shake Shack Adventure, this post was originally going to be about baseball’s longest hot dogs, perhaps a ranking of them. But it turns out that there is not much of a contest. It’s the 24-inch-long BOOMSTICK down in Texas — originally a tribute to Nelson Cruz, but it became so popular that they kept it even after Cruz was gone. (And the stadium’s concessionaire has brought it to other ballparks for trial runs.) It has even inspired a whole 24-inch-themed concession stand in the ballpark, where the Rangers have offered obscenely unhealthy items like the Murphadilla (after David Murphy), a 24-inch quesadilla, the Rossome Nacho (after Robbie Ross), a BOOMSTICK topped with nacho ingredients, and the Beltre Buster, a 2800-calorie, 1-pound hamburger.

This year, they introduced the Choomongous, a two-foot-long Korean barbecue sandwich.

Clearly, the Rangers believe that their stadium seats are well-constructed and will not collapse under the weight of their fans.

I propose a few new Rangers-player-themed concessions to add to the menu:

1. The ALEX RIOShootthat’sagiantpastramisandwich, a two-foot-long pastrami sandwich topped with mustard, sauerkraut, nachos, and sixteen crumbled up chocolate chip cookies.

2. The DAR-Fish Taco, a 24-inch fish taco, filled with an entire striped bass, two heads of cabbage (shredded), a field of radishes, and four pounds of vanilla soft-serve crema.

3. The Elvis (Andrus), a sandwich made of 24 bananas and thirteen pounds of peanut butter, served between two “records” made of chocolate Oreo cookies, and topped with a game-used home plate dipped in caramel.

4. The Prince Veal-der, a 24-inch veal parmesan hero, accompanied by a bucket of pasta and a wheelbarrow filled with extra tomato sauce for dipping.

5. The Colby Lewis, a gigantic grilled (colby) cheese sandwich, Scott Baker-ed in the oven until all melty.

6. The Mitch More, More, Moreland-and-sea, where two 24-ounce steaks serve as the “buns” for a lobster roll, made from two pounds of lobster meat, four fields worth of celery, and a Costco-sized jar of mayonnaise.

7. The Ron WashingTON-OF-FOOD, a garbage pail filled with whatever leftovers the stadium kitchens have on a given day, pulverized in a blender, and served with a straw (whipped cream topping optional).

Any others?

…so I was hungry, you know. It’s hard to maintain this calorie-restricted diet my doctor has me on, telling me it’ll help me live forever, as if however long my life would otherwise be isn’t long enough. And it’s hard enough to avoid temptation when you aren’t starving yourself on three hundred calories a day, let alone when you are.

I was at the Mets game, so of course I was looking for a distraction, and I remembered reading something about Ryne Sandberg and Shake Shack, but I couldn’t quite remember what it was, since my short-term memory is shot from, uh, something that happened to me, I think, that I’m having a bit of trouble recalling….

Anyway, Shake Shack sounded good, since I am known to enjoy the occasional fast food indulgence. Well, I wouldn’t say “enjoy,” since what can any of us really enjoy given what’s been going on in the Ukraine, but I can at least usually tolerate and effectively digest a hamburger. And anything that brings me closer in spirit to a Hall of Famer like Ryne Sandberg can’t be a bad thing, so after waiting six and a half innings on line, I ordered a Shack Stack — that’s a cheeseburger and a mushroom burger, on top of each other, just like my brother and sister used to sleep right on top of me when we were kids and our parents could only afford half a bunk bed.

The burger comes, and it looked a little funky — I mean, there were mouse footprints inside, and it was kind of a greenish-purple, if that makes any sense on the color spectrum, and I took a few bites and

OH MY GOD MY INSIDES ARE COMING OUT OF ME

MY OBP (ON BOWL PERCENTAGE) WAS 1.000. FOR DAYS.

ALTHOUGH MY BABIP (BATTING AVERAGE ON BOWELS IN PLAY) WAS ONLY ABOUT .275.

(Fortunately I keep a mop in the bathroom.)

MY FIP (FECES-INDEPENDENT POOPING) WAS VERY VERY HIGH.

I don’t know what was pouring out, I really don’t.

AND I HAD FOUR BS (BLOWN-OUT SKIVVIES) IN JUST TWO HOURS.

I was about -300 Wipes Above Replacement before everything finally started to subside and I could get on with my depressing life of data entry and cat wrangling. Of course, I had to sneak out a locked Citi Field by climbing the outfield wall since no one had bothered to check the family restroom before locking everything up. And so at four in the morning, there I was, dangling over by the big Home Run Apple, trying to hail a taxi cab in the middle of Flushing (and having killed my eardrums with the sound of Flushing for hours and hours in a row), underwear balled up in my pocket, and the second half of my burger in a to-go bag.

And I was hungry.

So I figured I’d chance it and eat the rest.

Following his brother’s complaints about the media in Toronto making him out to be a bad guy, J.Q. Arencibia had this to say about his firing as an accountant at a leading firm:

I didn’t expect going in that my numbers were going to be analyzed like that. You know, I think it’s pretty ridiculous that I was singled out as the villain of the office when all I did was botch everyone’s tax return. I showed up, I did my job, or at least I tried to, and then people in the “human resources department” start looking at you like you’re some kind of monster for doing an extremely poor job at calculating things, and then they start telling other people, and my secretary stopped following me on Twitter, and I did end up speaking to my boss about all of this, but he just said it came along with the territory of being an accountant. I thought I was going to be part of the future of this firm and not be made a scapegoat just because all of the clients left after they got audited, and demanded their money back. By describing the work I did as “shoddy” and “bad,” I really considered legal action. They defamed me. I tried to file a suit against them, but I messed that up too. But, you know what, it’s all in the past. Now I’m doing what I love to do, at home, and even though no one’s paying me to file these tax returns on behalf of imaginary people and businesses, it’s a lot of fun, the atmosphere is great, and at least there’s no more poutine. And that’s all I have to say.

Hey, Hopeless Joe here. I am writing this from sunny Orlando, Florida, where I have come for a little spring training getaway. It’s spring, it’s warm, everything’s going great (except for my pesky ragweed allergy)… except there doesn’t seem to be any baseball here right now, so I’m not really sure what I’ve done wrong.

I mean, I intended to check the schedule, but my Internet’s been down ever since 9/11, so I don’t really have any access to information. I just figured I was pretty safely in that “spring” window, and since I hadn’t heard anything about the regular season starting (I haven’t gotten a newspaper since the New York Sun folded its print edition, and my cable package only gives me access to Spanish-language children’s cartoons and Dog TV — which I love, by the way), I figured I’d be fine.

And then some kid on line for Space Mountain (too scary for me, I tell ya — I don’t do anything that involves space OR mountains) tells me that the season’s been going on for six weeks, and the BREWERS are in first place. Clearly he was kidding about the Brewers, so I didn’t know whether to believe him about the season… but why would they call it spring training if pretty much all the games happen in winter? That’s like when I thought I was invited to a “winter holiday party” but no one ever told me where or when it was, and so every day from December until March I waited for a call from my “friend” who was hosting the party, and he never called, and then he said we were never really friends, and my therapist says I should get over it, and– you see how it’s sort of the same thing, right?

So I don’t know what to do in Orlando without spring training games. I just wanted to do the tomahawk chop with Mickey Mouse, but I guess that isn’t going to happen. I tried to find something to eat but all they sell here are mouse droppings, and that same kid on line for Space Mountain just finished the ride and came back over here and vomited on my shoes.

This isn’t even the first time someone has vomited on these shoes.

ESPN’s David Schoenfield investigates Mike Trout’s increased strikeout rate:

Something is going on here besides just a random fluctuation in the numbers, whether it’s tied to Trout’s spring training assertion that he was going to be more aggressive or pitchers finally finding a hole in his swing or a bad case of allergies clouding his vision.

Which begs the question… what is Mike Trout allergic to?

1. Monkeys. One theory, posited by no one, is that Trout is allergic to monkeys, like the Rally Monkey. However, Trout’s strikeout rate is higher on the road than at home, so that theory makes no sense. Also, the rally monkey is a stuffed animal, not a real animal. (Or is he?) Also, I’m not sure the Rally Monkey is even used by the Angels anymore. Also, I’m not sure they’re still called the Angels or if the rest of the team name has swallowed that part up and they’re just the Los Anaheims of Angeles Los Anaheim Anaheims Los Losses.

2. The ball. Except he’s not striking out 72.4% of the time, and 72.4% is more than 27.6%, I think (number alert: can someone from real FanGraphs please check my math?). So even this increased strikeout rate is still less than what it would be if he truly needed to avoid the ball entirely or risk death by sneezing.

3. Ragweed. I’m not saying I’m anything like Mike Trout, or that he’s anything like me, or that we’re secretly brothers, or that I’m also going to earn however many gajillion dollars he’s set to earn in his career, or that I should be playing for the Angels, or that he could write a NotGraphs post, but I’ll just say that I’m allergic to ragweed, and so if Mike Trout is allergic to ragweed too, then it’s sort of like we’re brothers in an allergic way, and that would make me feel super special. Also, can someone recommend an effective antihistamine?

PROS

1. Getting out of our apartment.
2. Getting to go to a baseball game.
3. Having the memory of taking him to a baseball game.
4. Having pictures of the two of us at a baseball game.
5. Posting pictures on Facebook of the two of us at a baseball game.
6. Eating a hot dog.
7. I don’t think he needs his own ticket.
8. Tickets are super-cheap anyway.
9. Getting out of our apartment.
10. Getting to go to a baseball game.

CONS

1. Putting sunscreen on him is kind of annoying.
2. Getting to the game would be sort of a huge ordeal.
3. They do not have pureed hot dogs.
4. He has no idea what a baseball game is.
5. He will need a nap.
6. There is no way I want to change a diaper in a bathroom at a baseball stadium.
7. There is no way he will not need me to change his diaper in the time between leaving our apartment and returning to our apartment.
8. He will need another nap.
9. He will probably not have any interest in the baseball game.
10. He will put his hand in the mustard on my hot dog.
11. He will probably touch something dirty and then put his hand in his mouth.
12. The “something dirty” is probably the hot dog.
13. He will not cheer at the right times.
14. He will be bad at catching foul balls.
15. He will not really know where we are or remember this activity.
16. I will need a nap.
17. I will be risking that he becomes a Mets fan.