This just in: Stung by accusations of racism and yet sensitive to the appeal of nostalgia, Indians officials are attempting to replace Chief Wahoo with a less incendiary but similarly named ambassador by field-testing a variety of applicants.
The results thus far:
I ain’t to proud to admit it — I was slightly bummed out by the Hall of Fame results today. So, to cheer myself up, I do what I usually do when I’m feeling glum — read the Wikipedia list of inventors killed by their own inventions.
It is here that I stumbled upon Karel Soucek, a sort of professional stuntman from Canada. Soucek had an idea for a barrel that was padded, so he could survive inside of it when he took it over Niagra Falls. It worked, as he survived the trip. Then, Captain Smartguy got it in his head to one-up himself and drop himself and his barrel from the ceiling of the now ill-fated Astrodome into a tank of water — a 180 foot drop or so. It did not go well. He died on site.
You heard me, the Astrodome is a murderer. And when it is torn down, the ghost of Karel Soucek will rise above the wreckage, only to float into the greater Houston area, softly uttering his catchphrase.
“There is no heaven or hell; there is no God. It’s all a myth. You’re born, you live, one day you die and that’s it.”
For Soucek, that one day was January 19th, 1985. And that’s it. I somehow feel less bad about Craig Biggio now.
(h/t to my skip Adam Derkey, who’s whose incessant nagging regarding my curling sweeps has prompted me to buy a horse hair broom.)
As spring winds down, it’s time to get you updated on the weaknesses of the spirit as well as those of the flesh. Here’s the latest news:
Jerry Hairston blames his recent slump on a piece of advice from his childhood that has recently taken root and developed into a larger problem. “My little league coaches encouraged me to ‘be the ball’, and it made a lot of sense,” he told reporters after a recent spring training game. “But the other day I started thinking about it, and I realized I really was the ball. I mean, basically we’re part of everything, right? I’m me and the bat and the ball and [Rockies pitcher Jhoulys] Chacin all at the same time. It gets a little confusing.” Hairston has decided to go on the 15-day DL to find himself.
Meanwhile, Red Sox prospect Xander Bogaerts admitted that a brush with the teachings of Heraclitus had interfered with his learning curve at the plate. Having discovered the maxim that change is the only constant in our lives, and that “we never step into the same river twice,” Bogaerts reported difficulty with pitch recognition, having no deductive experience to apply the spin and location of each pitch to. When asked how he planned to deal with the problem, Bogaerts replied, “I’m not sure I can, bro. But luckily, even though every pitch is a new pitch, every Xander Bogaerts will be a new Xander Bogaerts. So let’s hope that dude knows what to do when the time comes.”
Click to acquaint yourself with the truth.
The author of this post is currently enjoying a secret video stream of today’s World Baseball Classic game between North American foes Canada and Mexico.
Watching, but decidedly not enjoying, that same video stream are citizens of the internet TheFranchise29, Fjaschler, Dodgerpreacher, Gigo19, and Cj102 — all of whom would likely have made that play on which former MVP Joey Votto committed a throwing error.
As reliable content-generator and hot, sexy tuba-ist David Temple noted yesterday in these pages, this year’s Winter Meetings — at which Meetings the author, who is a real-live baseball writer now, was actually present — were decidedly yawn-worthy in terms of deals that were actually made. That having been said (and with due respect to Tim Dierkes et al.), there are a number of rumors that have been entirely ignored by the sporting media — rumors about which any reasonable person is likely to ask “Why is no one talking about this???”
Rumors like these five, specifically:
NASHVILLE, Tenn. – In a move that is being described by industry insiders as ill-thought, problematic, and “fucking stupid,” NotGraphs editor Carson Cistulli has gained entrance to the Baseball Writers Association of America. Cistulli’s admission is a curious one as, though he can be classified as a writer, he doesn’t necessarily write about baseball, and rumors still abound as to whether he is, in fact, an American.
The BBWAA – once an organization of stature, respectability, and purpose – has certainly made waves with this decision. This appointment will allow Cistulli entrance to the press box of any Major League Baseball game, though Cistulli lives upwards of 90 minutes from the closest MLB stadium. It will grant him press credentials to all official MLB events – including the Winter meetings, the All-Star Game, and postseason festivities – even given the near certainty that he will embarrass himself, FanGraphs, and the BBWAA at these events. Should he maintain good standing in the organization, a feat that will surely not materialize, he will be able to cast his vote for the National Baseball Hall of Fame, a thought that strikes fear into almost anyone who cares about baseball, or the idea of voting.
“We are very proud of Carson, I guess,” said FanGraphs editor-in-chief Dave Cameron, whose own admittance in 2011 surely and disastrously paved the way for Cistulli’s. “I’m sure he will now ask for a raise, which I can assure all FanGraphs readers will not happen.”
“I can’t think of anyone more deserving than Carson,” said Internet baseball writer Sam Miller, who was also admitted this year. “Just kidding, I can think of at least a dozen.” Miller then ripped off his shirt, revealing a large tattoo bearing the text “Prospectus 4 Lyfe.”
Cistulli’s obsession with facial hair, Dick Allen, and middling prospects separates him some from most writers in the BBWAA. His penchant for midday drinking and wrapping his stories in bullshit metaphors is very on par with current writers, however.
Cistulli was not available for comment at the time of this publishing, as his recent accolades have not heightened his ability to answer emails in a timely fashion.
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In all seriousness, I could not be happier for Carson, as well as Eno Sarris, for their admittance. I owe a great deal to Carson, and I truly believe he deserves his appointment. We tend to tease him around here, but it’s pretty easy to see that he is a great writer. He also has a big heart (and a great eye for talent), plucking Yours Truly from obscurity and giving me a chance to have my voice heard. Congratulations, Carson.
Dayn Perry, our intrepid NotGraphs moral center, broke a story yesterday. At CBS Sports Eye on Baseball (the home for all baseball fans), Mr. Perry pointed out that the winning Powerball numbers from the recent drawing matched with a veritable who’s-who of former Royals greats, and one of the winners is from the Kansas City area. It has yet to be seen if the winner was actually a Royals fan, but I found it to be a cool story nonetheless.
This led me wonder; who are the best six players who have uniform numbers matching the winning Powerball digits?
Based off of FanGraphs WAR, here’s what was discovered:
5 – Joe DiMaggio (91.9)
16 – Hal Newhouser (62.9)
22 – Roger Clemens (145.5)
23 – Ryne Sandberg (62.6)
29 – John Smoltz (82.5)
6 – Stan Musial (139.4)
Total WAR for the Powerball team – 584.8
Total Powerball Jackpot – $587.5M
Totally freaky? No. Pretty freaky? Yeah.
Our intrepid translator of all matters Japanese baseball, Gen Sueyoshi, passes along this bit of news: The Hanshin Tigers GM — Katsuhiro Nakamura — knows they need a few whites guys if they want to slap any RBIs this coming season:
GM Katsuhiro Nakamura is hoping [Brooks Conrad] will be able to drive in anywhere between ninety and a hundred runs. Source: Sanspo 11/26/2012
Said Nakamura, via Nikkan Sports, “I think [Conrad] understands as well as anyone that we are in need of power. I do not want to put too much pressure on him, but what we need are RBIs. I think foreign players are for RBIs. Ninety to one hundred RBIs. And to get there, home runs are also needed.”
(Emphasis NotGraphs’)
There are non-white foreign players, you say? Well here’s a look at the Tigers’ current outlay of foreign talent:
Read the rest of this entry »
Doubtless, you have heard about Ambrosial Danny Heep Nachos, the delicious, piping-hot bowl of tri-cornered chips and fresh flesh named after former Astros, Mets, Dodgers, Red Sox and Braves outfielder Danny Heep? Surely you have heard tell and caught whiff.
Scrumptious is what they are. Yet they are not scrumptious because they were lovingly prepared by retired outfielder Danny Heep. Lo and no, they are scrumptious because when one consumes an inviting heap (Laughing Out Loud) of Ambrosial Danny Heep Nachos, one necessarily eats many tiny Danny Heeps. Bear whetted witness …
Do the living morsels of Danny Heep tartare wish to die gruesomely in the service of your maw-stuffing pleasure? No, they do not. They must console themselves with the promise of contributing to your mounting angina pains. Being as they are quite tiny, though, they have little say in the matter. So consume without ceasing. We can always breed more tiny Danny Heeps.
Please do enjoy your Ambrosial Danny Heep Nachos in commemorative Franklin Mint Rock and or Roll serving crock.
(Author’s note: it’s late, and I’ve just consumed several glasses of port and several hours of Comedy Central’s horrible, repetitive advertisements. The mixture has put me in a melancholy mood. Verily warned, therefore, be ye.)
Last night, the Washington Nationals secured first place in the National League, bringing playoff baseball to our nation’s capital for the first time since 1932. Washington fans have been waiting their entire lives to see this day. Or, they’ve been waiting eight years.
The mark of Montreal has been effectively wiped from the franchise. After the departure of Livan Hernandez, no current National has ever donned the Montreal uniform. Only fourteen former Expos played in the major leagues in 2012; their most able veteran was Jamey Carroll, whose 2.2 WAR is reflected primarily through his ability to field grounders at shortstop. Eventually, they too will shuffle off.
Growing up, I never held strong feelings about the Expos. They belonged to a different league, different time zone, and their red-white-and-blue uniforms seemed a little garish. I couldn’t figure out their logo, and their best player in the late 80s, Tim Raines, was a threatening approximation of my own favorite player, Rickey Henderson.
But as a Seattleite, I can empathize with Montreal. We don’t talk about other sports here very often, what with it being a baseball site and all, but growing up I was a big Sonics fan. I watched as a struggling franchise with a decrepit home arena was dragged away by a loathsome owner. Of course, I was upset. Like many, I declared the NBA dead to me, swore my hatred of the OKC Thunder and their stupid powder blue uniforms and their ironic glasses and backpacks and their dumb faces.
