Archive for Audio and/or Visual

Between Colby Rasmus’ new ‘do, back-to-back losses — in which the Blue Jays were outscored 14-6 — to the Orioles, Jose Bautista again landing on the disabled list, and Kevin frigging Gregg striking out the side — Rasmus, Edwin Encarnacion, and Kelly Johnson — in the 9th inning Saturday night, I’ve hit bottom as a Toronto supporter. There’s only so much bullshit one man can take.

But, seriously, what the hell was Rasmus thinking? I know he’s struggling, but there had to have been another option. Other options. Somewhere, Tony La Russa — like the rest of us — is laughing.

What can I say. I preferred the long hair; the sick flow. I preferred Colbylocks.

Image credit: The Twitter feed of Mr. Ricky Romero.

Ichiro Suzuki, for those who do not know, is in every Japanese commercial. In 2005, the Kokkai ratified into law a mandate requiring Japanese commercials to contain either Ichiro or Arnold Schwarzenegger. In 2006, a second law retroactively required commercials to include at least the image of Ichiro’s face in even the Schwarzenegger commercials, an addition that most commercial producers had already been doing for several years.

Anyhoot, some Japanese product called Yunker — which we can safely assume is an energy drink either made for cats or by cats because everything in Japan has to do at least partially with cats — made a pair of astounding new commercials featuring the face of Japan. They are here:

I ask: Are these commercials real? Now I put it to you to the max:
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I have an affinity for baseball-related hip-hop music, and the above — “Put Me in the Game” — comes to us from Athens, Alabama’s G-Side, as featured in 2K Sports’ MLB 2K12, which I recently bought in order to electronically change the fate of my beloved Blue Jays.

If you like the track, you can download it here. I checked; it isn’t available on iTunes.

I have recently discovered Roar of the Tigers, and my life has improved immeasurably. Mostly due to the incredible illustrations of Quintin Berry, by Samara Pearlstein, below.

NotGraphs, meet Quintin Berry. Quintin Berry, NotGraphs.

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Even Cleveland Indians fans laughed.

Here’s the good news: only 13,843 souls, or how many were left of the smallest crowd in Minute Maid Park history, saw that. (On an aside: why the hell were there so many Nationals fans in Houston? I’m very confused.)

It’s been a tough season for me, personally, as a Blue Jays supporter. Everyone is injured. No, really, everyone. So, of late, I’ve done what everyone should do now and then, to know what life is like for those less fortunate: I’ve watched Astros games. In their entirety. And, believe me, I now truly realize how blessed I am. You almost have to believe in God to be an Astros fan.

If you’re out there, and you know Brad Mills, please hug him. For me. For all of us.

Daniel Straily has been called up, analyzed, gushed over, and well-wished. Now he has also been drawn in a manner attempting to channel my inner seventh-grader with a crush. Consider this his NotGraphs rookie card. Good luck out there, ginger face! We love you!

1. The best folk singer of my generation, Dan Bern, has released an 18-track album of baseball songs entitled “Doubleheader.” It is now available to preview and buy. His songs are about listening to Vin Scully on the road, Mickey Mantle’s tragic injuries, Jackie Robinson, Pete Rose and Bart Giamatti, Merkle’s boner, Gallarraga’s perfect game, and my personal favorite at the moment, the very straightforwardly-titled “The Year-By-Year Home Runs Totals of Barry Bonds.” The songs are loving and empathetic, and they are without pomp, circumstance, or cynicism.

2. Ben Gibbard of Death Cab For Cutie and The Postal Service has released a song he wrote several years ago for Ichiro Suzuki. The song was obviously written long before Ichiro started declining or was traded to the New York Yankees and it is an unabashed love song. The chorus goes “go go go go Ichiro!” and that part will probably be stuck in your head for a few days. It all sounds like a Beach Boys song if Brian Wilson was a hardcore lifetime Mariners fan singing about Ichiro Suzuki and breaking your heart when he mentions Dave Niehaus.

For the lay fan, the circumstances surrounding the Ryan Dempster trade (or lack thereof) to Atlanta are what might be called “murky at best.”

For Bob Uecker, however, everything is illuminated — and, just as one wouldn’t hide a light under a bushel, it would be the very picture of absurdity for the author not to share with the readership Bob Uecker’s (and, it should be noted, Joe Block’s) totally accurate and non-fictional report on the trade in question.

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Twins catcher Ryan Doumit can’t catch a break. He gets hit by a pitch, and on the way to take the base he earned through his discomfort, he almost gets uprooted by the batboy.

This was obviously some sort of attempt on Doumit’s life. Even the shortest of glances would reveal that this thug is no boy. FanGraphs lists Doumit at 6’1”, making this bat-adult at least 6’3”.  This “batboy” is clearly a trained assassin, and if it weren’t for some wet grass, he would’ve used what I can only assume to be poison-laced spikes to inject a neurotoxin into Doumit’s leg, causing sudden paralysis and cardiac arrest. If not for the incompetent grounds crew at U.S. Cellular Field, this Ty Cobb of hired killers would have collected his bounty and retired to a village in – let’s say – Argentina.

Doumit, seemingly aware of the bounty on his head, simply shrugs off this event. This isn’t the first time he’s had a brush with death, and it wouldn’t be the last. His old boss Johnny Three Eyes obviously wasn’t going to stop until one of them was dead. Doumit gives the guerilla an attaboy pat on the behind in recognition of his efforts. It can’t be that easy to infiltrate a major-league ballpark, after all.

Doumit finishes his stroll to first, his mind concocting his next move. Christ, he hadn’t had this much heat on him since he botched that numbers job in Monaco.