Archive for Audio and/or Visual

Or at least to the first 40 seconds of this video. And maybe it’s Joe Esposito. I think you know what I’m trying to say.

You may not be aware that world famous singer, wrapper, and sous chef Jose Reyes also is a shortstop of great quality and is currently unemployed, all alone, and looking for a new club that can help him mend his aching hamstring and make him whole again.  But while he does need a new team, one thing Jose Reyes says he does not need is your friendship.

Indeed, Jose Reyes doesn’t make friends, as he explains while rapping with some passing acquaintances he just happened upon, and for whom he has little regard and almost no emotional investment:

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A leaked recording of Ron Washington’s profanity-laced pep talk from before game seven of the World Series has caused quite a stir on the web (NSFW):

Ron Washington’s Game 7 Clubhouse Speech from JoeSportsFan.com on Vimeo.

The Texas Rangers are reported to be livid that this speech — second only to the St. Crispin’s Day Speech from Shakespeare’s Henry v among the greatest inspirational speeches of all time — was released for public consumption.

Little does anyone know that Washington actually borrowed large portions of his speech from a speech given by NotGraphs’s Steadfast Guardian, Carson Cistulli, before the baseball action of game 162 on Wednesday, September 28.

As you will note, however, Cistulli’s speech struck a slightly different tone:

Cistulli: Hey fellas, I just want to take a minute and, um, this is what we waited for all f***ing year. To get to this point. You know, when the season started I told you guys to keep your titles to one line. One f***ing line! We followed this convention the whole goddamn year and there’s no reason to not do it now. If you don’t know how close you are to running over onto a second line, please use the preview feature. This is one of the most tremendous baseball blogs that I’ve ever had the pleasure of being a part of. I hope you guys feel the same way. There are a lot of champions at this website–those f***ing guys at FanGraphs are champions too and good champions also. They’re blogging for a modest sum. They ended up keeping their titles to one line. Tonight, this is what it’s about. We’re gonna go back out there tonight and I’m gonna expect you guys to stop doing anything different than what you’ve been doing all f***ing year. Enjoy yourself, have fun, do what you gotta do, and like I told you, at this point it’s all about focus. And you’ve been great at that and you’ve always had each others’ backs. That’s what we gotta continue to do: have each others’ back. That’s all it is…We can keep our titles to one motherf***ing line. Ain’t no doubt about it. We can beat those motherf***ers over there. No doubt about it. But I can tell you this: they over there saying the same motherf***ing thing. Why? Because they a champion too. And we’re a motherf***ing champion. But we know we can outblog those c***s***ers. They’re not so sure about outblogging us.

Much like you, I slogged through this day encumbered by the grim assumption that, once again, I would not see the final outs of Dennis Martinez’s 1991 perfect game broadcast in French. Thankfully and mercifully, I was wrong:

The Constitution teaches us that Jesus spoke American and killed the dinosaurs. But French is okay, too.

A couple of months ago, our own Dayn Perry made a well-reasoned, excellently-worded argument as to why God Bless America should not be played during the seventh inning of every single baseball game ever, as has been the case for a decade now.

I agree with Mr. Perry, but I wouldn’t simply cut GBA and simply play “Take Me Out To The Ballgame” all by its lonesome. No, we still need a reminder of what country we are in when we are thirteen-eighteenths through a baseball game. As such, I suggest the following song, a much clearer and simpler reminder of yes, this is in fact America.

Enjoy.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z4tDP-yMwXI

Last night, I was forced to confront author Dayn Perry about his recent conduct.

Awkward heterosexual man-hug for Jeremy Blachman, who has made an art form of xtranormal.

When you survey base-and-ball enthusiasts about the World Series most recent, they’re likely to remember championship phenomena like Albert Pujols’s three home runs in Game 3 or L’Affaire Bullpen Phone or the Rangers’ nihilistic failures in Game 6 or Zooey Deschanel. Those are all noteworthy or, in Ms. Deschanel’s case, prepossessing in the extreme, but they’re not what you should cling as winter approaches and the baseball-less world turns to cold shit.

No, you should remember when Mr. Pujols, astride a motorcycle at home plate, took a moment’s respite from signing autographs to hit a home run with his fist. Then you should remember that the Rangers, in the throes of Game 6, undertook a mound celebration before the game was even over. Then you should remember that Messrs. Pujols, Freese and Trophy traveled across a fiber-optic network and emerged from your TV to party with you in your living room. And then you should remember that “party” is always a verb.

Those were the days, lads. Those were the days …

This one goes out to my main man C.C. Sabathia and his lucrative new contract. Cheers, toast to crime.

Infinite hat tips to our favorite Demon Deacon Tim for the heads up.

A friend pointed out that I misspelled Saltalamacchia in a previous post.

I figure I deserve to be punished. And so why shouldn’t I make the punishment fun?

If you haven’t wasted at least a few hours doing pointless baseball (and non-baseball) quizzes over at Sporcle… well, I’m about to ruin your productivity forever. Because even if you don’t like the quiz I’m about to link you to, I’m pretty sure something over there is going to suck you in (or you are far more immune to the distractions of the Internet than I am… though, really, if you were, would you be reading NotGraphs?).

My self-inflicted punishment for misspelling Salty’s name is that I’ve created a quiz to test how well you can spell the hardest names in baseball (current players only). Yeah, that Marc guy is one of ’em.

Good luck.

[First one with a perfect score wins… about $40,000 less than the winner of the Scripps National Spelling Bee. My last spelling bee was in 4th grade, when I was eliminated from my district’s competition by misspelling halibut. For more than twenty years, I didn’t eat halibut, in silent protest. That streak was broken due to an unfortunate choice of entrees at a wedding a few years ago. I think it must have been something like “halibut or garbage?” because I honestly don’t remember what would have possibly made me choose the halibut and end my lifelong strike. I have not eaten it again since. For those who haven’t already clicked over to the quiz– or a different post!– by now, I spelled it “h-a-l-i-b-i-t.” How many fourth graders frequent the local fishmonger and study the price list??? I’m still convinced it was the pronouncer’s fault. The winning word was refrigerator! Refrigerator!! But I’m over it. Really, I am.]

Some might characterize the action-video footage that follows as “brimming with boundless horrors.” Others — patriots, for instance — might characterize the action-video footage that follows as “brimming with righteous justice.” Judge for yourself, so long as you agree in advance to make the correct judgment …

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SRi59dhVawo&feature=player_embedded

At this point, you might be wondering what the puckish young lad in the Yankee cap did to merit such a shuddersome fate, other than the self-evident breach of wearing a Yankee cap in the first place. And, hmmm, I might be wondering why you’re not content to leave such matters to the relevant jurisdictional authorities. Perhaps, because of your dissension, the Republic finds itself in need of even more blood-soaked redress, eh?

I’d watch what I say and think, if I were you.