Nickname Seeks Former Player: Grey-Eyed Man of Destiny

Full Disclosure: I’m really writing one of these because there hasn’t been one in a while, and I miss them. I realize that this is Dayn Perry’s shtick, and repurposing it may very well warrant me a soup bone to the jaw, but nevertheless, I’m going to give it a shot.

The inspiration for this nickname comes from Internet baseball writer/nerdfather Rob Neyer, and one of his recent tweets. This Mr. Walker was quite a person of history, having conquered Mexico, Nicaragua, and Honduras in a mere 46-year span. His death was most likely bloody, which gives him both life-style and lifestyle points. But that nickname. That nickname can be better used.

We should – nay, MUST – find a former player that best fits this name. Remember, this exercise requires said player not to be former in the sense that he formally was alive, just formally a baseballer.

In the spirit of Mr. Walker, this player should also be grey-/steely-eyed (eyes made of actual musket balls do qualify), and have fulfilled or at least possessed a destiny. Bonus points to any player who waltzed into a foreign country and usurped its regime. This man must be a grizzled, grizzly, gizzard-eater. His victories in war might possibly outweigh his victories in WAR. This must be a man of the people, in that he most likely killed, and certainly was murdered by, people. Patriot? Perhaps.  Patronizing? Probably. People Person? PFFT!

Sound off, fair NotGraphs readers. Which former player deserves the moniker of “Grey-Eyed Man of Destiny”? You nominations will be considered, with the top candidates meeting in a showdown next week.

The nomination process, which involved furious denunciations and copious amounts of the dirty-dirty, is complete. Now you may select from the 10 names that follow. The desperate question before us: Who, because he is a rank maroon, should be nicknamed “I Denounce This Man”?

Thank you for exercising the franchise.

What we are doing is assigning cool nicknames to players rather than the opposite, which is a bloodless tradition that has been with us too much and too long.

So how does this running feature differ from the dear, departed exemplar of the genre? “Nickname Seeks Player” was devoted to active base-ball-ists, while “Nickname Seeks Former Player” is the province of those who no longer play this fine game because they are dead in spirit and perhaps also dead in the corporeal sense. Boileryard Clarke? Eligible! Sal Maglie? Eligible! Fred Lynn? Eligible! Dontrelle Willis? Eligible! Dave Parker? For the ladies!

You may surmise from this that almost the entire sprawl of baseball history lies before you, like a sexy patient etherized upon a table. So prepare yourself to plumb both depths and heights as we ponder fitting candidates for this week’s name to nicked: “I Denounce This Man”!

Before we proceed, though, let us remember those who have previously survived this crucible of sturdy ghosts. Last time out, John Kruk somehow confused everyone with a broth of flatulence and then somehow won the voting for “Actual, Literal Brick Shithouse.” That’s really fucking stupid and betrays an en-masse misunderstanding of the criteria, but I’ll let it stand, I suppose. Don’t ever let me down like this again. I suppose, though, the blame lies with me, since I green-lighted his coconuts nomination in the first place.

I denounce John Kruk.

So now let us — snifters in hand, cardigans beswaddling our mortal parts — gaze upon The Fireside Mantel of Reposed Fortune-Hunters:

“Museum of Questionable Medical Devices” – Ted Williams
“A Garbage Truck That Runs on Lightning” – Matt Stairs
“Colonel Sanders’s Drinking Buddy” – Charlie Manuel
“America’s Step-Dad” – John Olerud
“Man vs. Bible” – Carl Everett
“Actual, Literal Brick Shithouse” – John Kruk

And now … “I Denounce This Man”!

Implications and Intimations

Quite simply, this is a FORMER player you detest at a visceral level. It can be for reasons defensible and right-wise (“The man was a racist menace to all he surveyed!”), or it can be because of some trifling affront of which he is not even aware (“His stooopid lips are stooopid!”). It matters not. He can even be deceased, since the dead should absolutely be subjected to the contempt of the living.

You denounce this man because he is worthy of denunciation or because he is an awful match for your neuroses. Either is a damnable sort.

So who, citizens of sufficient origins, should be nicknamed “I Denounce This Man”?

The nomination process, which involved sturdy building materials, sinew and poo, is complete. Now you may select from the 10 names that follow. The desperate question before us: Who, because he he could punch out a Sequoia, should be nicknamed “Actual, Literal Brick Shithouse”?

Thank you for exercising the franchise.

What we are doing is assigning cool nicknames to players rather than the opposite, which is a bloodless tradition that has been with us too much and too long.

So how does this running feature differ from the dear, departed exemplar of the genre? “Nickname Seeks Player” was devoted to active base-ball-ists, while “Nickname Seeks Former Player” is the province of those who no longer play this fine game because they are dead in spirit and perhaps also dead in the corporeal sense. Boileryard Clarke? Eligible! Sal Maglie? Eligible! Fred Lynn? Eligible! Dontrelle Willis? Eligible! Dave Parker? For the ladies!

You may surmise from this that almost the entire sprawl of baseball history lies before you, like a sexy patient etherized upon a table. So prepare yourself to plumb both depths and heights as we ponder fitting candidates for this week’s name to nicked: “Actual, Literal Brick Shithouse”!

Before we proceed, though, let us remember those who have previously survived this crucible of sturdy ghosts. Last time out, Carl Everett talked his drinking buddies into crucifying him to the front door of a brothel and thus claimed the nickname “Man vs. Bible.” So now let us — snifters in hand, cardigans beswaddling our mortal parts — gaze upon The Fireside Mantel of Reposed Fortune-Hunters:

“Museum of Questionable Medical Devices” – Ted Williams
“A Garbage Truck That Runs on Lightning” – Matt Stairs
“Colonel Sanders’s Drinking Buddy” – Charlie Manuel
“America’s Step-Dad” – John Olerud
“Man vs. Bible” – Carl Everett

And now … “Actual, Literal Brick Shithouse”!

Implications and Intimations

Internet Hot Links teach us that the phrase “like a brick shithouse” was, understandably enough, originally concocted to indicate a lady of pleasing physicality. Time and tide, however, have altered the phrase to mean a gentleman of sturdy build, capable of beating up a nation. It is this latter connotation that informs this particular exercise.

The former player, then, should not only be built like a brick shithouse, but should also be actually be, in the most literal of senses, a stink lodge constructed of bricks and mortar and-or impregnable concrete structure filled with big shit. Here’s a helpful artist’s rendering:

So who, citizens of sufficient origins, should be nicknamed “Actual, Literal Brick Shithouse”?

The nomination process, which ran afoul of just about every directive found in Leviticus, is complete and now you may select from the 10 men to follow — men who have been painstakingly drawn and quartered by the forces of Heaven and Hell. Who among these men should be known forevermore as “Man vs. Bible”?

Thank you for exercising the franchise.

What we are doing is assigning cool nicknames to players rather than the opposite, which is a bloodless tradition that has been with us too much and too long.

So how does this running feature differ from the dear, departed exemplar of the genre? “Nickname Seeks Player” was devoted to active base-ball-ists, while “Nickname Seeks Former Player” is the province of those who no longer play this fine game because they are dead in spirit and perhaps also dead in the corporeal sense. Boileryard Clarke? Eligible! Sal Maglie? Eligible! Fred Lynn? Eligible! Dontrelle Willis? Eligible! Pete Rose? Asshole!

You may surmise from this that almost the entire sprawl of baseball history lies before you, like a sexy patient etherized upon a table. So prepare yourself to plumb both depths and heights as we ponder fitting candidates for this week’s name to nicked: “Man vs. Bible”!

Before we proceed, though, let us remember those who have previously survived this crucible of sturdy ghosts. Last time out, John Olerud did a better job of raising another man’s children than did Steve Garvey or Ty Cobb and thus claimed the nickname “America’s Step-Dad.” So now let us — snifters in hand, cardigans beswaddling our mortal parts — gaze upon The Fireside Mantel of Reposed Fortune-Hunters:

“Museum of Questionable Medical Devices” – Ted Williams
“A Garbage Truck That Runs on Lightning” – Matt Stairs
“Colonel Sanders’s Drinking Buddy” – Charlie Manuel
“America’s Step-Dad” – John Olerud

And now … “Man vs. Bible”!

Implications and Intimations

He is a tortured sort. He wants badly to please the Judeo-Christian godhead, but doing so is at cross purposes with his blackened nature. Normally, he would yield to his wicked appetites, but the Good Book — and the Jeff Huson-led tent revivals he attends — wrench his guts. So sometimes he gives in and then weeps in the pews. Other times, he resists and then weeps at the scent of corn liquor or the promise of gonorrhea.

He is Man vs. Bible. And don’t you know that he is losing the fight?

Who, citizens of sufficient origins, should be nicknamed “Man vs. Bible”?

The nomination process, which involved deck shoes and uncles holding tumblers, is now complete, and now you may select from the 10 remarried-by-force-of-habit names to follow. Who among these men should be known forevermore as “America’s Step-Dad”?

First, though, let us allow the land-owning NotGraphs commenters and their powdered wigs to justify their chosen nominations …

Read the rest of this entry »

What we are doing is assigning cool nicknames to players rather than the opposite, which is a bloodless tradition that has been with us too much and too long.

So how does this running feature differ from the dear, departed exemplar of the genre? “Nickname Seeks Player” was devoted to active base-ball-ists, while “Nickname Seeks Former Player” is the province of those who no longer play this fine game because they are dead in spirit and perhaps also dead in the corporeal sense. Boileryard Clarke? Eligible! Sal Maglie? Eligible! Fred Lynn? Eligible! Dontrelle Willis? Eligible! Pete Rose? Asshole!

You may surmise from this that almost the entire sprawl of baseball history lies before you, like a sexy patient etherized upon a table. So prepare yourself to plumb both depths and heights as we ponder fitting candidates for this week’s name to nicked: “America’s Step-Dad”!

Before we proceed, though, let us remember those who have previously survived this crucible of sturdy ghosts. Last time out, Charlie Manuel edged Wade Boggs for the drilling rights to the nickname “Colonel Sanders’s Drinking Buddy.” So now let us — snifters in hand, cardigans beswaddling our mortal parts — gaze upon The Fireside Mantel of Reposed Fortune-Hunters:

“Museum of Questionable Medical Devices” – Ted Williams
“A Garbage Truck That Runs on Lightning” – Matt Stairs
“Colonel Sanders’s Drinking Buddy” – Charlie Manuel

And now … “America’s Step-Dad”!

Implications and Intimations

America’s Step-Dad might be a well-meaning sort like Mike Brady. He might have “step-dad hair” like a middle-aged Robert Goulet. He enjoys being mediocre at tennis. He wears an ionized bracelet because, who knows, it might work. Perhaps, right now, he is at a Knights of Columbus luncheon. His handshake is sturdy yet not punishing. He occasionally complains that the color of the tough-up paint doesn’t quite match the color of his very rational sedan. He thinks about gas mileage. His medicine cabinet suggests mounting fates. He and your mother were brought together by a love of the evening news.

Who, citizens of sufficient origins, should be nicknamed “America’s Step-Dad”?

First, righteous gratitude to Dangerous Don Hammack for the championship photo edits seen above.

The nomination process, which was decidedly racist but included an open bar, is complete, and now you may select from the 10 fate-groped names to follow. Who among these men of finger-licking standing and breeding should be known forevermore as “Colonel Sanders’s Drinking Buddy”?

Citizens, let us vote like no one’s watching, even though several deputized sociopaths are indeed watching …

Thank you for exercising the franchise.