Author Archive
Seriously, What’s the Mets’ Problem?
Do you want to know why people make fun of the Mets? Here’s why people make fun of the Mets:
In a nutshell:
1) Mookie Wilson is not a pitcher.
2) Pitchers do not pitch like that, Mookie Wilson.
3) Keith Hernandez is not a catcher. He’s Keith Hernandez.
4) Neither of them bothers to explain to The Count that he only is allowed three strikes.
5) They also neglect to tell him that the point of swinging the bat is to hit the baseball, and that in service of this goal, he could count the number of times he hits it, which would satisfy both his obsessive need to count things and his team’s need to be better than the Mets
6) Fear of bats.
Keep Cistulli Out! Another NotGraphs Abuse Of The Democratic Process (Updated)
I have, to varying degrees, taken to poo-pooing the democratic process on this site over the last two years. My point, to the extent I have one, is not that we should heavily invest additional power in the hands of those that already have so much, as it is that the majority generally sucks and really likes to do shitty things to the minority.
Nevertheless, there is a benefit to living in a country that encourages its lowly plebs to participate in the governmental process, and that is that we can make our voices heard. We can build consensus, and with a strong voice we can tell our leaders, in no uncertain terms, how to make this country stronger, better, and more fair.
To this end, I ask you to please get involved with a project that is very close to my heart. This summer, NotGraphs “editor” and general ne’er-do-well Carson Cistulli voluntarily left this country of his own free will and moved his entire life (which fit into two sensibly-sized suitcases, from what I understand) to the Paris, Texas of France, Paris, France. In the days since his ouster, America has learned to hope again. Now, Carson Cistulli wants to come back.
This ragamuffin of a man and all-around dirty person believes that, just because he has a passport and is a legal U.S. citizen, he should be allowed to again traipse his muddy feet across America’s fine white carpets, which we just got done cleaning. He wants to drag his whimsy and his obscure references and his drinking problem back to our doorstep, and he expects to be let in.
The Faces of MLB Past
Last week, I bestowed on you the right to subvert Major League Baseball’s stupid Face of MLB twitter contest and choose the real face of Major League Baseball. While the correct choice would have been to refuse to participate in the sham of a democratic process where your candidates were selected for you, and the only real option was preordained, the plurality of you voted for Deranged Joe Mauer. That, I suppose is, is the best non-correct option, so good for the minority of you who acted appropriately and can now, therefor, impose your will on the masses.
Deranged Joe Mauer is the current face of Major League Baseball! Huzzah, I guess.
But, of course, Deranged Joe Mauer has only been the face of baseball for the last few years. There are literally at least a dozen years where he was not even born and people were playing the game. Who was the face of baseball then?
Fortunately, this does not require your input, which would be garbage. The enlightened despot, who has long existed in my imagination, has chosen for you as a means to demonstrate both his benevolence and God-given mandate to lead. For who can deny a leader this wise, kind, and handsome? His choices, dear friends, begin with the start of the World Series era and mark the most important face in the sport. The title belongs to that player for as long as he is in the league, and then passes on to the holder, except for John Martina in 1924, who wrested the title away from Babe Ruth by force (you will see why), and then returned it the following year:
Democrazy: Who Is the Face of MLB?
I remain horrified by the ongoing ravages of unchecked democracy today, as I peruse the latest results of MLB’s profoundly stupid Face of MLB Twitter contest. Not only has Arizona turned out in overwhelming numbers to allow Paul Goldschmidt to roundly trounce Mike Trout, but now he’s got a good lead on Joey Votto.
While the Goldschmidt campaign seems to have the momentum of a runaway freight train (even as he may be contaminating the planet in a manner that may one day render it uninhabitable), and may very well be primed to go all the way to the end, there are several faces that the voters, in their infinite wisdom don’t even get to consider. All of them would be far better choices than anyone still alive in the tournament (Eric Sogard? Puh-lease!)
Here now is where I turn the choosing of the alternative face of Major League Baseball over to you, the people, so you can demonstrate what a terrible decision I have made and provide more evidence as to why democracy debases us all and brings even the greatest man low.
Democracy Sucks Again: Vote for the Best Baseball Writing or Something
I have long graced these pages with the undeniable truth that democracy stinks like the cheeses in Cistulli’s beloved France. When the unwashed masses are prompted to express themselves via a voting mechanism, we wind up with Taylor Hicks as our American Idol, a fourth Transformers movie, and Paul Goldschmidt beating Mike Trout in the Face of MLB contest (seriously). It is inexcusable that, despite its almost constant failure, we keep turning to this outmoded form of decision making thrust upon us by the most conquerable ancient Greeks and a bunch of Founding Fathers who were never around while we were growing up.
As ever before, would we just put ourselves into the hands of a benevolent despot, all would be incense and peppermints.
Alas, my message seems not to be penetrating your stupid eardrums. Even my colleagues, like very important Internet baseball writer and editor of The Hardball Times Paul Swydan, have turned against me. Today, Swydan advocates that you use your sausage-like fingers to caress your oily mouse (note: not a euphemism) in order to navigate your browsers away from the images of sausage-like fingers caressing an oily mouse (note: euphemism) to vote for the SABR Analytics Conference Research Awards:
REMINDER — Vote for @fangraphs & @Hardball_Times writers for the @sabr research awards: http://t.co/TRsUkkmjqB
— Paul Swydan (@Swydan) February 5, 2014
Not only does Swydan want you to exercise your questionable judgment to distinguish between five different articles in three distinct categories, none of the fine work you see in NotGraphs has been chosen for this year’s conference.
A Plausible Horror Movie Produced By Major League Baseball
Scene: October 2013
Twins owner Jim Pohlad sits in his spacious Target Field office with superstar baseball player and shampoo salesman Joe Mauer, team manager and probable garden gnome Ron Gardenhire, and general manager/R. Lee Ermy stand-in Terry Ryan. They are discussing Mauer’s offseason plans.
Pohlad: Mr. Mauer, I don’t suppose they told you anything in Minneapolis about the tragedy we had up at my family’s hunting lodge up here in the Iron Range of northern Minnesota during the winter of 1994 and 1995?
Mauer: I don’t believe they did.
Pohlad: My predecessor in this job, my father, left a man named Shane Mack was the winter caretaker. And he came up here with his wife and his two little girls, who were, I think about 8 or 7. And from what I’ve been told, he seemed like a completely normal outfielder. But at some point during the winter, he must have suffered some kind of a complete mental breakdown. He ran amuck and…uh…killed his family with an ax. Stacked them neatly in one of the rooms in the west wing and then he, he put both barrels of a shot gun in his mouth.
Mauer: Well, that is quite a story, and it certainly explains why nothing has been seen or heard from him since. You can rest assured Mr. Ullman, that’s not going to happen to me.
Pohlad: The winters can be fantastically cruel. And the basic idea is to cope with the very costly damage and depreciation which can occur. Physically, it’s not a very demanding job. The only thing that can get a bit trying up here during the winter is, uh, a tremendous sense of isolation.
Mauer: Well, that just happens to be exactly what I’m looking for. I’m learning to play first base, and five months of peace is just what I want.
Pohlad: That’s good Joe, because for some people, solitude and isolation can, of itself, become a problem.
Cut to February 2014
NotGraphs Top 25 Prospectors List
Welcome to NotGraphs’ annual (starting now) ranking of the Top 25 Prospectors in history.
This is an ever-evolving list, as we celebrate the men and women, real and fictional, who defile our cherished Mother Earth, scarring her and removing her mineral wealth in the name of personal gain. We celebrate these great prospectors, of course, because who doesn’t love gold and whatnot, and many of them made a ton of money, which is an accurate representation of their worth as people. These prospectors are ranked based on a combination of the importance of their discovery, the amount of money they died with, their contributions to popular culture, colorful language, and how I’m feeling this morning.
25 – Gabriel Read
Found gold in New Zealand. Who cares?
24 – Father Manuel Lopez
Allegedly found gold in Arizona in 1774, and made the Papago Indians local mine it all for him. Not cool.
23 – Antoin Stander
Discovered gold on Eldorado Creek in Alaska, lost all his money, was a horrible drunk, and had to pay his way out of Alaska by working in a ship’s kitchen.
22 – Edward Hargraves
First to discover gold in Australia, after failing in California.
One Is a Genius, the Other’s Insane!
Gee Brain, what do you want to do tonight?
The same thing we do every night, Pinky: TRY TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD! Read the rest of this entry »
Yankees Finally Land Tanaka!
Click, if thou wouldst dare to embiggen.
In what is surely an exciting development for their groundskeeping and stadium maintenance crews, the New York Yankees today announced a seven-year deal with Tanaka Power Equipment, a brand within the Hitachi Power Tools Group. The deal will give Yankees employees access to the very best in power tools, including chainsaws, grass trimmers, brush cutters, power augers, water pumps, and leaf blowers to maintain the grounds of New Yankee Stadium, at a time when new ballparks begin to show their wear.
Sure, $155 million seems expensive to get exclusive access to Tanaka’s two new straight shaft trimmers, but the Yankees have never shied away from paying top dollar to bring in the very best product. And really, you would be hard pressed to find a higher quality company than the one who introduced the world’s smallest industrial, general purpose 2-cycle engine all the way back in 1962. Also, given that all of Tanaka’s fine products come with a seven year consumer warranty, there’s little risk of the club being left in the lurch should any of the equipment break down.