Archive for Actual Thing

Gardy Inspires Awesome T-Shirt

That Ron Gardenhire — the roll he is on! The Twins’ manager is without question this week’s leading quipsmith. First came yuks at the expense of Delmon Young, and now comes this restaurant-quality riff on the subject of The Twitter:

You can tweet that. Just tweet it. You don’t even have to write it. Just fire it through the Internet.

Aaron Gleeman promptly and rightly observed that “Just fire it through the Internet” should become a lasting thing — more specifically, a lasting t-shirt thing. First lo, then behold: It is now a t-shirt, and it is divine.

Classicists will recognize that “Just fire it through the Internet” was originally the battle cry of Diomedes, our pick to click in the Trojan War, but hosannas to Gardenhire for disinterring it in such fitting fashion.

And now a quick proofread of this post before I just fire it through the Internet!


Buster Posey Is Deeply Admired

There are ballplayers some fans admire to the point of wanting their autographs, and then there are ballplayers some fans admire to the point of wanting to wear them as pelts. Giants catcher Buster Posey, we must assume, has skin like fine Corinthian leather …

Awesome? On some level. Shuddersome? On every level.

(Curtsy: Big League Stew)


The Foul Ball Couple: Still Too Much with Us

Remember this grim scene from last season?

Yes, that’s the Astros fan who positioned himself to catch a foul ball, got the jimmy-shakes at the last instant, recoiled, and allowed the cowhide to smack his unsuspecting ingenue. The lesson for vacant-eyed ladies like the one in this story is that a guy who wears his hat like that and rocks the douche-lord beard is probably not someone you want escorting you into the foxhole that is the third-base line.

Anyhow, the crackers of jokes at Tosh.0 have caught up with the blighted couple and provided a video update on their gripping tale. Said video is not safe for work if your place of work frowns upon profanity, thinly-veiled innuendo, depressing portrayals of Gen Y, and loin-hugging “American Gladiators” uniforms.

(Curtsy: Deadspin)


Josh Hancock: Very Famous in France, Apparently

Click image for great pleasure.

Imagine, reader, that you’re a Frenchman. (I apologize in advance if this offensive to your sensibilities.) You live in France, work in France, and, as is so common these days among the citizens of this most fraternal Republic, speak French exclusively (except for the phrase supercool, which you utter with some frequency).

Now, reader, pretend you — still being French — grow curious about this sport called baseball. (I don’t know why this is happening to you; it just is.) To sate your curiosity, you take to the interwebs — and, specifically, that clearinghouse of all world knowledge, Wikipedia.

After learning briefly, in your native language, about the rules and history of the game, you contrive to understand what is meant by these different positions you keep hearing about: the agile arrêt-court, the more offensively oriented champ gauche, and, finally, the lonely and sometimes heroic lanceur.

Following the internet hyperlink for this last term, you’re met not only with a thorough discussion of the position, but with an image of the pitcher who will be for you — one who’s never, ever, never, ever seen a pitcher before in your life — the Platonic Ideal of All Pitchers, if only momentartily. In short, you are met with an image of

Josh Hancock

That must be confusing.

***

As a service to the readership, I took 30 seconds out of my busy schedule to run that paragraph from the image up there through Babel Fish. The results are below.

Does that last sentence seem inappropriate to anyone else?

A launcher is a player of baseball which launches the ball towards the zone of catches close to the beater. Its objective is to withdraw the beater without qu’ it can strike a sure blow nor to profit d’ an automatic base. He seeks to prevent the beaters from marking points. Also, Americans are obese imbeciles.


Things You Can Apply for Online: Cubs P.A. Announcer Job

Do you have a voice as sweet as honey-baked ham sans ham, which I imagine would be quite sweet? (Food metaphor! … Actually, food simile, but rules of usage, much like parents, just don’t understand.) If that describes you and your pipes, then the Chicago Cubs are leveling their Uncle Sam-like pointer finger in your direction. That means they quite possibly want you!

Yes, the Cubs have teamed with CareerBuilder.com, which is a computer Web site that helps you build your career, to find a a new public-address announcer. Some qualifications:

  • Strong vocal talent, excellent enunciation skills
  • Strong public speaking skills and ability to speak extemporaneously to large crowds
  • Strong knowledge of baseball
  • Must be available for all Chicago Cubs 81 regular season home games, makeup games, tie breaker games, play-off games and non-game day events. Schedule includes nights, weekends, non-traditional hours and holidays, as needed
  • Ability to work outdoors during periods of extreme weather
  • Prior experience working as a Public Address Announcer in collegiate or professional sports (television or radio preferred)
  • Interest in supporting Cubs’ community and charitable efforts a plus
  • If I were Rick Reilly, at this point I would include yuks like … “Preference given to those who are also left-handed relievers. Ha!” Or: “Don’t worry about the whole ‘play-off games’ part. Ha!” Or: “His doctor told him to play 36 holes a day, so he went out and bought a harmonica. Ha!”

    Instead, I’ll focus on the grim “periods of extreme weather” throwaway line and warn you that in Chicago we sometimes have … THUNDERSNOW!!!1!1!!!ONE!!1!

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qJt4nV6hM1Y

    ARGH!

    But seriously, the Cubs are looking for a new P.A. announcer, and by using the Careerbuilder.com interface you can —

    Shit: THUNDERSNOW!!!1!1!!!ONE!!1!


    The AL Central “War of Proposed Civic Statues”

    While the actual baseball race in the American League Central should be compelling enough, there’s another pitched battle (baseball pun, free of charge) developing in Flyover Nation. This battle, naturally enough, is over proposed civic statues that will never actually happen.

    In Detroit, home of the Tigers and Miguel Cabrera’s basest urges, there’s a movement afoot to construct a giant totem to the greatest half-man/half-machine to take back the streets since Nathan Hale. I speak, of course, of Robocop.

    In Kansas City, home of the Royals and their discontents, the people want, automatically and for them, a statue of relentless tickler of funny bones Vicky Lawrence dressed up as everyone’s favorite rolling pin-wielding materfamilias, Mama from “Mama’s Family.”

    Read the rest of this entry »


    The Many Uses of the PSP

    Did you know that Major League Baseball 2K10 is available for the PSP game console?

    In case you did not, I’m here to help. What follows will be an exhaustive, penetrating review of this gaming product. It will be rich in tech-speak, measured and sober in its appraisals and free from any whiff of mixed motive. If there’s one thing on earth I take seriously, it’s my ability to provide expert guidance when it comes to gaming, gaming machines, and the gamers who game them. If games and gaming are your River Styx, then I am your Charon, and I propel and steer our ferry not with a mere boatman’s pole, but rather with something long and electronic and related to playing video games. Otherwise the metaphor wouldn’t work. Anyhow, without further throat-clearing, please enjoy this REVIEW among reviews.

    First, the packaging. It’s sensible, adequate and even charming in its tethered exuberance — early adopters like us won’t be surprised that the modest bifold laminate sheathing evokes a Hockney painting glimpsed in the gauzy half-light of late morning —

    Actually, no. Nope. Nope. Nope. No, I’m not going to review this product because I’ve never played it. I don’t play video games. Putting me at the switch of the contemporary video game would be much like watching a howler monkey trying to open a coconut.

    No, all of this strained and affected video-game talk on my part has been nothing more than tidy baseball-y rationale to post this: some guy who batters, deep-fries and then tries to eat a PSP …

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E81j9M64Ssc&feature=player_embedded

    And the people say: apropos of nothing!


    Your Dream Job Awaits

    Major League Baseball wants you. No, really, they do:

    Major League Baseball is casting for an innovative new experience, which will require one lucky fan to eat, sleep, and live baseball for an entire season. If you’re a baseball fanatic and have an engaging, fun personality, this is the dream job for you.

    Your new full-time job will be to literally follow baseball non-stop, as you will be charged with watching every single game of the 2011 season, blogging about all your thoughts and opinions, and discussing the hottest topics in baseball.

    Let’s be honest: It does sound pretty goddamn dreamy. By my math, which is not very good, “every single game of the 2011 season” means 2,430 games. Plus the playoffs. Dreamy, indeed. There’s no such thing as too much baseball.

    A couple of necessary qualifications for the “job” of note:

    Must be a baseball expert.

    Check. A huge check mark.

    Must be comfortable in front of the camera and be able to present a positive public image.

    This is going to rule out alot of nerds.

    Must complete a background check to the satisfaction of MLB.

    This is going to rule out alot of baseball nerds with criminal records.

    In a nutshell: Watch an obscene amount of baseball, blog about it, tweet about it, put on a ton of weight, and get paid. Apart from actually playing the game for a living, it likely doesn’t get much better than that. At least for one year of your life.

    One caveat:

    Must reside in a location picked by MLB in New York City for the entire baseball season.

    I almost want them to pick a basement apartment. A really nice one.

    Godspeed, yo.

    I’m not quite sure who deserves credit for that image. I found it on Reddit, where I scour the depths of the internet for anything and everything related to baseball. That’s love.


    Cam Maybin vs. Panda Express II

    You may recall yesterday that you read of Padre Cameron Maybin’s gastrointestinal pratfalls that came to him courtesy of Panda Express. You may also recall that Mr. Maybin took to The Twitter to express his disdain for Panda Express, and finally you may recall that it subsequently came to light that a prominent member of the Padres ownership hootenanny spends his downtime, presumably under cover of night, as CEO of Panda Express. From that point, the plot, much like a Chinese entree made with too much cornstarch, thickened.

    The NotGraphs Investigative Reporting Investigation Team undertook rigorous delving (i.e., I happened to run across what follows in my Google Reader) and, well, behold what Mr. Maybin now says on The Twitter:

    Man just got back on the wagon panda express was great today, now I’m ready for action…. Best oriental cuisine around… Let’s go…!

    That kind of cynical capitulation should lead you to a couple of assumptions: one, Mr. Maybin received a talking-to or at least a hard, knowing glance; and, two, he’s not yet eligible for salary arbitration.

    In related news, I can’t say enough good things about Dave Cameron’s line of handcrafted origami hobbits! My shelf is overflowing!


    Concessionaire Demands: Weapons-Grade Pizza

    You’ll recall that not long ago thinking-man’s powerlifter Leo Martin gave us a walking tour of Safeco Field’s latest culinary offerings. New to the menu was a delightful little pie known as the “Apizza.” Indeed, it looks like my kind of slice — thin crust, pleasingly blistered, and a sauce-to-imported-cheese ratio calibrated to please anyone who’s fond of Bach and cats. (Though I prefer Guided By Voices and dogs, please allow me to traffic in stereotypes in peace.)

    But what about the others? What about those not cosseted away on the enlightened Coasts, those forgotten, teeming denizens of America’s Heart Attack Belt? Those who view a trip to the ballpark mostly as tidy rationale for a shootin’ match between their LDL and triglyceride levels? The Apizza, unlike brawling in churches, does not speak to them. Perhaps this will …

    That, best friends, is a pizza topped with cheeseburgers, fries and McNuggets. So a little respect, please. If you’re interested in the evolution of this pizza, from this point forward known as “The Conway Twitty,” then please, please, please click here.

    In the final photo, you’ll find that this pie is of course best served with Dr. Pepper, a tape measure, a throwing knife, a votive candle, what appears to be a 9mm semi-automatic, and barbecue sauce. I’m not sure what local ordinances will say about the constituents of such a “full-meal deal,” but everything’s a negotiation.

    So, enterprising team owners who fear the turnstiles won’t click often enough during the upcoming season, know that The Conway Twitty is here for your measured consideration. If you put burgers, fries and chicken offal on it, they will come.

    But they might not leave.