Although the convention floor, which is slimed in the residue of the basest of human urges, might lead one to think that the title of “Mayor of Babylon” hangs in the balance, it is actually the nickname “Gargoyle O’Boyle” that is at sexy stake.

The nomination process yielded many names, which have been whittled down to a tidy 10, according to the whims and impulses of the Utmost Culminating Exchequer, whose zippered latex mask is for purposes of maximum intimidation. He — is he really a he? — asks that you ponder carefully who should be known forevermore as “Gargoyle O’Boyle.” Now go and vote like everyone’s watching. Because they are …

Thank you for exercising the franchise.

Our ongoing quest, in the manner of a noble knight-errant, is to assign cool nicknames to players rather than indulge in the tired, lamewad paradigm of assigning cool players nicknames. Last time out? Jeff Mathis laid authoritative claim to the nickname “Hot Lettuce.” So Mr. Mathis has been added to our Hall of Honouur, which is so stately, so regal, so much itself a celebration of the Norman Conquest, that an extra British-English unstressed “u” is required for proper spelling …

“Bad Miracle” – Wily Mo Peña
“Captain Black Tobacco” – John Danks
“$45 Couch” – Yuniesky Betancourt
“Liván Hernández” – Liván Hernández
“Frog in the Pot” – Carlos Zambrano
“Aqua Velva Man” – Chase Utley
“Victorian Sex Rebel” – John Axford
“Good, Round Friend” – Prince Fielder
“I Am Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass” – Kyle Farnsworth
“Interrobang” – Adrián Beltré
“Turbaconducken” – Ty Wigginton
“Hot Lettuce” – Jeff Mathis

And the nickname now available for purchase? It’s “Gargoyle O’Boyle”!

Denotations, Connotations, Implications, Intimations, and Incriminations:

The nickname “Gargoyle O’Boyle” should evoke for you the late-19th-century and early-20th-century base ball-ist — a man of that blessed time when batting averages and infant-mortality rates kept close numerical quarters. It is a name that suggests a murderous intensity on the part of the base ball-ist, as well as offseasons spent working in the coal mine or astride the blast furnace. It suggests a man for whom base ball is an incurable disease. It suggests bunts, spikes-high stolen bases, games of pinochle played in the dining car, and a grim history of throttled elevator attendants. It suggests a man, full of bale and harm, who will die of too much corn liquor or perhaps a lung complaint. That is to say: It suggests beauty.

Or perhaps, for you, it suggests something else entirely. Whatever.

Prototypes from Baseball’s Gauzy Past:

Ty Cobb is the obvious model for all who would aspire to be Gargoyle O’Boyle. Tony Phillips is a worthy, more recent example, as is Lenny Dykstra. Of course, “Gargoyle O’Boyle” need not be a small-ball fetishist. Are you suggesting Eddie Murray couldn’t have played for John McGraw? Because I’m suggesting no such thing. Woe betide the man who does suggest something like that!

Guiding, Determinative Query:

What current major-league player should be nicknamed “Gargoyle O’Boyle”?

The convention floor, which is filled with actual, palpable misery, is open for nominations …

The convention floor now displays before unshielded eyes the full complement of Bacchanalian excesses. Delegates have died from too many drinks, opiates and hastily administered “Happy Clancy’s” in the men’s room. Such is the political process.

The bloodshed, though, has yielded 10 names, all listed below and all approved by the codpieced Utmost Culminating Exchequer. So which ballplayer shall forevermore be known as “Hot Lettuce”? Please vote in the manner most likely to spare your life …

Thank you for exercising the franchise.

Our ongoing quest, in the manner of a noble knight-errant, is to assign cool nicknames to players rather than indulge in the tired, lamewad paradigm of assigning cool players nicknames. Before we launch the latest installment, however, a trip through our Hall of Honouur, which is so stately, so regal, so much itself a celebration of the Norman Conquest, that an extra British-English unstressed “u” is required for proper spelling. …

“Bad Miracle” – Wily Mo Peña
“Captain Black Tobacco” – John Danks
“$45 Couch” – Yuniesky Betancourt
“Liván Hernández” – Liván Hernández
“Frog in the Pot” – Carlos Zambrano
“Aqua Velva Man” – Chase Utley
“Victorian Sex Rebel” – John Axford
“Good, Round Friend” – Prince Fielder
“I Am Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass” – Kyle Farnsworth
“Interrobang” – Adrián Beltré
“Turbaconducken” – Ty Wigginton

And the nickname now available for purchase? It’s “Hot Lettuce”!

Denotations, Connotations, Implications, Intimations, and Incriminations:

It is a landmark day in the young annals of Nickname Seeks Player: a reader contribution. Faithful page viewer Bryz, who surely has better things to do, passes along this championship explanation:

I am in the middle of student teaching right now, and I had to bring the leftover remains of a chicken Caesar salad to school for lunch. Not desiring some cold chicken, I chose to nuke my salad via microwave prior to eating it. I took the first bite of chicken… not bad! Then I moved to a Caesar dressing-covered piece of lettuce. One chew, two chews, pause, spit it back into the bowl. It was terrible. Apparently lettuce above room temperature is like drinking cold (not iced) coffee; it’s just not right.

I was telling this story to a fellow student teacher and friend of mine at the end of the day, and I explained how the salad sucked overall because of the hot lettuce. That was when I thought instantly of the “Nickname Seeks Player” posts at NotGraphs, and I felt that something I had just said would fit perfectly: “Hot Lettuce.”

Lettuce by itself is rather blah. It’s nothing outstanding by itself, and I bet no one has ever said with gusto, “I want some lettuce today!” It’s something you add, but I don’t think you’ll really miss it if it’s gone. But hot lettuce is a whole different story. It is something that is just… filthy. Nasty. Has the power to make you do a spit-take. Thus, what I am imagining in a “Hot Lettuce” type of player is someone that overall was unspectacular, but when he got hot (performance-wise, not Adrian “Don’t touch my head!” Beltre hot or Carson Cistulli-attractiveness hot), watch out! This player being hot turns him into a dominating force.

We like it. The concept of “Hot Lettuce” as a nickname, that is, not actual, foul-tasting hot lettuce.

Prototypes from Baseball’s Gauzy Past:

More from Bryz:

Players that I feel fit this description might be John Mabry. 2.1 career WAR, and 1.6 of it was amassed in his 2002 season chronicled in Moneyball. Rich Harden is another player that I like, because he’s mixed in some “meh” seasons (regular lettuce) with some great seasons (hot lettuce). There’s certainly also other, non-green wearing, non-former Athletics players that could come to mind for this nickname.

I would add: Mike Damn Laga.

Guiding, Determinative Query:

What current major-league player should be nicknamed “Hot Lettuce”?

The convention floor, which is filled with hot lettuce and used, tortured rubbers, is open for nominations …

The convention floor is now more appropriately described as a killing floor, what with all the gutted hogs, chickens, turkeys, ducks, and idealistic campaign volunteers. Yet despite the blood and gristle, sally forth we must. The names placed into nomination have been reviewed for fitness and acceptable levels of contributions to The Ruling Party, and now it’s time to vote carefully and under watchful eyes …

Vote like a voter, yo.

Our ongoing quest, in the manner of a noble knight-errant, is to assign cool nicknames to players rather than indulge in the tired, lamewad paradigm of assigning cool players nicknames. Before we launch the latest installment, however, a trip through our Hall of Honouur, which is so stately, so regal, so much itself a celebration of the Norman Conquest, that an extra British-English unstressed “u” is required for proper spelling. …

“Bad Miracle” – Wily Mo Peña
“Captain Black Tobacco” – John Danks
“$45 Couch” – Yuniesky Betancourt
“Liván Hernández” – Liván Hernández
“Frog in the Pot” – Carlos Zambrano
“Aqua Velva Man” – Chase Utley
“Victorian Sex Rebel” – John Axford
“Good, Round Friend” – Prince Fielder
“I Am Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass” – Kyle Farnsworth
“Interrobang” – Adrián Beltré

And the nickname now available for purchase? It’s “Turbaconducken”!

Denotations, Connotations, Implications, Intimations, and Incriminations:

Obviously, this is in honor of the holiday devoted to three of the seven deadly sins: gluttony, sloth and Dallas Cowboys football. And that brings us to Turbaconducken. A pleasing mash-up of delicious fowl and piggies from Disney movies or uniquely American abomination?

In baseball terms, is it a player who boasts a combination of skills and bestowals that was previously unimaginable, like, say, Babe Ruth? Or is it a player who is so awful at so many things that he induces dry heaves in the discriminating fan, like, say, Marv Throneberry? He is either very good or very bad, depending upon how you, the Thanksgiven reader, feel about Turbaconducken. And that’s why the blast field of the forthcoming nomination process figures to be wide and awful to behold.

Prototypes from Baseball’s Gauzy Past:

I’ve already given you Babe Ruth and Marv Throneberry. Another possibility is a player who looks like he would be delicious if wrapped in bacon and served as a main course. Jeff Juden, for instance. Or Rich Garces.

Guiding, Determinative Query:

What current major-league player should be nicknamed “Turbaconducken”?!

The convention floor, which is filled with innards and Episcopalian landowners (but, as of yet, not the innards of Episcopalian landowners), is open for nominations …

There is a sense of inevitability about a baseball card that features a player attempting to call a timeout at the plate. The inevitability is that this player can be no one other than Adrian Beltre …

For this and countless other reasons, Mr. Adrian Beltre shall be known, from this moment until we return to ash and primordial soup, as “Interrobang.”

Our efforts to bestow upon a deserving base ball-ist the nickname “Interrobang” is increasingly a cluster, and that cluster, armed with a certain zeal is starting to fuck. The first crack at it yielded a beautiful tie, and the second attempt also yielded a beautiful (albeit somewhat contrived) tie.

So now we must rally ’round the flag for a third and — one hopes (or doesn’t, if mounting chaos is your thing) — clarifying referendum. How, citizens, should we break this tie, which failed to break the first tie? To the Diebold Sybian!

Excellent choice!

Citizens:

We have a first in the annals of “Nickname Seeks Player”: a tie. Indeed, Messrs. Nyjer Morgan and Mike Stanton both garnered the exact same number of votes, and that means an urgent, hastily assembled and palpably corrupt run-off is in order. Vote below, but remember: Present your papers to the uniformed constabulary or be walloped by his oxskin glove and placed into a holding pen alongside other foul-smelling members of the newly disenfranchised …

The ward heeler thanks you for voting as instructed. Now leave, lest your fruit cart be overturned daily until you see things our way.

UPDATE: Two commenters have a love of chaos that matches my own. Take it way, citizens:

TartanElk says:
November 15, 2011 at 1:30 pm (Edit)

Please be a tie

Yirmiyahu says:
November 15, 2011 at 1:57 pm (Edit)

I say that, before voting, EVERYONE should click on ‘view results’ and then vote for whichever guy is trailing at the moment.

The convention floor is vacant, save for pools of spilled liquor and the desperate residues of mass Onanism. And thus the time for exercising the franchise is upon us. Names have been placed into nomination, and patriots charged with knowing what is best for you have whittled those names down to 10. Please reacquaint yourselves with the impassioned arguments and then go and vote sexily …

Thank you for voting. Please have a pre-owned lollipop.