Today in Tweets Illustrated Literally, Rich Thompson of the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim is outraged and self-censoring.

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Heh.

I’ve gotten a lot of questions about why I put Justin Verlander first on the AL MVP ballot this year. I thought I’d offer a glimpse into my reasoning by publishing my top five picks with commentary:

1. Justin Verlander. When I sat down to try to figure out what “MVP” stood for, he was the first guy that came to mind. Most Valuable Pitcher? Definitely — as long as you’re not counting C.C. Sabathia, which I try not to ’cause he’s a Yankee. Although I do like the way he wears his hat all tipsy. But back to Verlander: 24 meaningless wins! 8.96 strikeouts per 9 innings! Sideburns as good as Luke Perry’s! Detroit is otherwise sad! Amazing!

2. Dustin Pedroia: Most Valuable Player [On My Fantasy Team]. I’ve been quietly living the nightmare of having made Matt “Shattered Hopes” Wieters my single franchise player in my keeper league until this year, when a little man called Laser Show entered my life and changed my attitude forever. Stay gold, Pedroia, you’re gonna be around for awhile.

3. This bulldog puppy: Most Valuable Puppy. This slot was a tough call, as y’all can probably imagine, but my heart told me at the last minute that he was going to be the winner. Whenever he’s on, even when no one’s in the room, my mouth goes to nonesense words that start with a “sh” sound. His VORPuppy is at least 80.5, and that’s accounting for breed factors.

4. If I Was Your Girlfriend: Most Valuable Prince [Song]. Look, I’ll admit that “Do Me Baby,” or even the overrated “Kiss” might be more likely to get (you) on base. But “If I Was Your Girlfriend” has an above-average bittersweet quotient while managing to maintain a very consistent sexiness. And in the clutch? “Sometimes I trip on how happy we could be” can’t be beat.

5. Logan Morrison: Most Valuable Player [On Twitter]. Was there ever really a question with performances like this?

P.S. 6-10 are jalepeno, Big Sexy Hair’s Powder Play, Bubbles (RIP), tortellini, and Jose Bautista — you figure it out.

In this photo, my cat Irwin is wearing my Houston Astros ice cream helmet. I got this helmet at a game on my 27th birthday, and it once contained Blue Bell Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream (the best ice cream in the world, made in Brenham, Texas). Irwin doesn’t want to wear the helmet, and it took me awhile to get it on, but I make him wear it anyway because he’s my cat and I can make him do things like wear hats. I could have worn the hat instead, but I know I can just have Irwin do it. In exchange for his pride, I give him food, clean up his poop, and scratch his cheeks. I like to think he puts up with it because he loves me, but it might be because he doesn’t have a choice — he knows he can’t beat me up or else he wouldn’t have an owner at all.

In the metaphor I’m constructing, the part of Irwin is played by the Houston Astros and the part of me is played by Bud Selig and the part of the ice cream helmet is played by the American League.

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, an earth television series, premiered in 1993. It is set beginning in 2369 on a space station run by the United Federation of Planets. The space station is located near a wormhole, which invites a variety of trade, politics, and eventually war. The commanding officer of this particular space station is Benjamin Sisko. Ben, born in New Orleans, Louisiana in 2332, is the tragically widowed father of Jake Sisko (in short: Ben’s wife Jennifer was killed in the battle between the Borg and the Federation following the Borg’s assimilation of Captain Picard (Star Trek: The Next Generation) in order to gain tactical information). And, in the great Trek tradition of humanizing its humans with one or two quirks that the viewer can relate to, Benjamin Sisko loves baseball.

I wish he’d look at me the way he looks at that baseball, knowwhatI’msayin?

On 24th century earth, baseball is largely forgotten, but kept alive by a handful of enthusiasts, of which our Ben is one. In the early DS9 episode “If Wishes Were Horses,” an alien impersonating Buck Bukai gives Sisko a baseball. That baseball becomes one of Ben’s prized possessions, taking on a symbolic importance throughout the show. It stays on Ben’s desk throughout his sometimes long disappearances during wartime, and disappears when he intends to leave forever. When he is around, it sits prominently at his desk (when he’s not tossing it in his hand while contemplating important decisions). Who is Buck Bukai, you ask? Ben Sisko’s favorite baseball player: Harmon Buck Gin Bukai, known as Buck or “Buckaroo.” Bukai’s rookie year in the Major Leagues was 2015. He played for the London Kings for four years before joining the Crenshaw Monarchs of the Planetary Baseball League (PBL). He also played for the Gotham City Bats and two other teams before rejoining the London Kings, this time of the PBL. Buckaroo was a fairly extraordinary player: a switch hitting shortstop who broke DiMaggio’s hit streak record in 2026 (with the Kings). Bokai’s career spanned over 25 years until he retired in 2042 after the Kings won one last World Series against the New York Yankees, the final game of which was attended by only 300 people. According to one Star Trek novel, this was the last World Series ever played on earth and Bokai hit the game winning run home run in the 11th inning of Game 7. I’m guessing he’d be your favorite player too, if you were Ben Sisko (and aren’t we all?).

The classic Star Trek attention to detail!

In episdoe 154 of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, titled “Take Me Out to the Holosuite,” Vulcan Captain Solok challenges Ben to a good old fashioned Holosuite baseball game. For those totally uninitiated in the ST universe, a Holosuite/deck is essentially a place where a computer simulates whatever type of reality you ask it to. Examples of this on Next Generation include a Sherlock Holmes episode and the hilariously titled western adventure “A Fistful of Datas.” Holosodes (I just made that up) of Star Trek series often represent a break from the outside world and a fairly contemplative and philosophical take on memories and dreams. At least in TNG and DS9, these episodes are almost always referential to some time on earth much closer to our present than the show and that’s what makes them fun and also totally ridiculous. Despite the cheeky costumes always featured in holodeck episodes, they often examine deep issues such as “what makes something alive?” (when a hologram develops consciousness). But this particular holosode doesn’t try to cast a new light on religion or race, humanity or logic. It is, like the baseball game is for the crew of the space station, simply a break. I guess that’s just how baseball is for people unlike myself who don’t use it as a tool to examine every other aspect of the universe.

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Michael Franks’s “Baseball,” from his album “One Bad Habit” (1980, Warner Brothers).

Today, we answer some important questions: Is baseball really that much like love? Did the Pittsburgh Pirates look awesome in 1970? How can I keep control of my nerves with the way you wind up when you throw me those curves?

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Today, a liberally literal interpretation of this fine tweet by Torii Hunter.

My grandmother gave me a handful of Astros programs collected by my grandfather and my uncle at the Astros games they attended in 1972. The scorecards in the middle are each completely filled in with the messy hand of a nine year old, making the following advertisement that much more awesome.

So, the obvious question follows: who led the league in taste in 2011?

“That the abyss is bottomless is the bad news. The good news is, it must also be topless!”
-David James Duncan, The Brothers K

I learned to enjoy feeling sorry for myself just after I hit puberty. Whenever my dad would yell at me or one of my friends would do something mean, I’d wail and storm and taste my tears and love every second of it. I remember seeing Claire Danes cry and that, of all things I could possibly envy, was what I aspired to most: to cry that hard, to mean it that much. It got worse as I got a little older and met girls with eating disorders or who took anti-depressants. Illogically, but earnestly, I put them all on tall pedestals. I read books like Girl, Interrupted and Prozac Nation, The Bell Jar and The Virgin Suicides. I tried making myself throw up a few times. I listened to sad songs exclusively, once making a tape for myself to fall asleep to that consisted only of Soul Asylum’s “Runaway Train” over an over again on both sides. (Yikes.) A lot of this weirdness wore off as I grew up. Most importantly, I stopped romanticizing mental illness. But I still love crying, and sad songs, and I think more than a little bit of that self-victimizing sap inside of me has remained. Which explains a lot about why I like baseball so much more than I like any other sports. Baseball is basically a giant stage for failure, disappointment, and sadness. And that’s exactly what makes it so goddamn beautiful.

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Inspired by the events that transpired last night in the world of baseball (!!!!!) and in the world of Project Runway finales, I spent the afternoon making my own Game Six Win Probability Graph t-shirt (apologies to Dave Cameron, who surely never meant for this to happen).

I hope the judges don’t knock me for my styling

You can make your own memento of the %^(*$%%(@RFJingest game ever. Instructions, kind of: I printed the win expectancy graph and went over the lines with my trusty Sharpie so they would pop when I traced them… Then I just slotted the page under a white t-shirt and traced the lines with a fabric pen. I sewed red beads onto my shirt for hot playz, but you could also just do it in a different color. Embroidery would also be an option and a pretty easy one if you have a water soluble fabric pen (and who doesn’t), but I didn’t have time for that today. Then I cut the collar and sleeves off of my shirt because I’m a girl. Viola!

Tony La Russa’s Monday press conference seems to have caused further confusion about his use of pitchers during Game 5 of this 2011 World Series. I thought I should try to parse La Russa’s explanation, so I used Yahoo’s Babelfish tool to translate Tony into German and then back again to English. I think this sheds more light on his true intentions. Questions are in their original tongue, punctuation was edited for clarity.

Q: Could you take us through the thought process leaving Rzepczynski to pitch to Napoli?

La Russa: Well which happened, was that twice the region didn’t hear Motte’s name. They heard Rzepczynski’s and it didn’t receive moth (as both loose received should). I looked and moth wasn’t there above going. Thus I demanded back moth and her rose Lynn. That’s why it wasn’t me today throw been supposed wasn’t in such a way, which goes letting it throw, this Schlagmann. It straight threw the preheating and went it and to moth was ready. I don’t know, if it were loud, probably material loud. It straight didn’t hear second time. They heard “Rzepczynski” and it didn’t hear “Motte” and as I back designated, said I “Moth,” they heard “Lynn.” Thus I went there, wrong chap out. He’s, which does not go throwing today. I said, “If you decrease/go back, keep ready” to moth. We’ll way the chap because I don’t wish Lynn — it is not to throw. I didn’t would like to injure it. And then moth came in. That’s why — it must be loud. I give credit note to the fans.

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