Our ongoing quest, in the manner of a noble knight-errant, is to assign cool nicknames to players rather than indulge in the tired 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

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

Denotations, Connotations, Implications, Intimations, and Incriminations:

What, who or why is “Interrobang”? It is the greatest and most neglected of punctuation constructs. It is represented by this: “?!” Or this: “!?” Or, on occasions most special, this:

As you can imagine, the interrobang poses a question — “What?” — followed by an exclamation and or whoop — “Shit, golly!” It is a moment — or a man, or a man and his moments — that is equal parts stupefaction and awe. “Did he just do that? Fuck my idiot face, he just did that!”

Prototypes from Baseball’s Gauzy Past:

Greatness with flair. Greatness in defiance of human limits. Ozzie Smith. Sir Dick Allen. Mike Schmidt. Pedro Martinez. Babe Ruth. Willie Mays. Bob Feller. And it need not be sustained greatness. Bo Jackson. Mark Fidrych. Or the opposite of Rico Brogna.

Guiding, Determinative Query:

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

The convention floor, which is filled with gaping maws and Sans-a-belt slacks pooled around pale, hairy ankles, is open for nominations.

The convention floor is filled with happy, beaten asses. Names have been placed into nomination, and some of those names have been subsequently culled according to the whims of the Parliamentarian with the Lidless Eye. And now, citizens, it is time to vote.

The matter before you: Which player is most worthy of the nickname “I Am Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass”? Remember, please don’t enter the voting booth unless accompanied by one of our Election Supervisors, who are here to ensure proper and right-wise outcomes …

Thank you, patriots, 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 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

And the nickname now hanging perilously in the balance? It’s “I Am Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass”!

Denotations, Connotations, Implications, Intimations, and Incriminations:

While this scribe is something of a Yo La Tengo agnostic, there’s no disputing the heaven-sent, maiden-kissed, dandy-fondled perfection of this album title. It would, I attest from atop the pile of my basest urges, make a fine, good nickname.

What does it mean? It means an absence of fear where fear should dwell. It means defiance of human — nay, animal — bounds and limits. It means that there is a very certain type of shit that, anymore, he’s not going to take.

I am afraid of you and it is thus deducible that I will not beat your ass. But this Player to be Nicknamed? He is not afraid of you and he will very much beat your beautiful ass.

Prototypes from Baseball’s Gauzy Past:

Billy Martin surmounted modest skills and a slight build to carve out a major-league career and sucker-punch scores of legions of many. Jackie Robinson was courage and noble bravado writ awesome (if, that is, we wish to take this in a direction that’s actually inspiring on the merits rather than, you know, rich with amusements). David Eckstein was certainly unafraid. He wasn’t going to beat anyone’s ass, but, really, the willingness and confidence to beat an ass is more important than actual beating of asses, even beautiful ones such as yours.

Guiding, Determinative Query:

What current major-league player should be nicknamed “I Am Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass”?

The convention floor, which is larded with asses — consenting asses — looking to be beaten, is now open for nominations …

The convention floor, still covered by confetti, spilled cocaine and unmentionable fluids, is closed for business. And so with names placed into nomination and the list of nominees trimmed according to the whims of those in awful power, it’s time to vote.

At stake are stakes, and those stakes are the right to call oneself “Good, Round Friend.” Now, for the unassailable process that is Internet polling …

Thanks for voting! Now please enjoy some illegal drugs.

Our ongoing quest, in the manner of a noble knight-errant, is to assign cool nicknames to players rather than indulge in the tired paradigm of assigning cool players nicknames. Before we launch the latest installment, however, a trip through our Hall of Honour, which, as you surely anticipated, is made entirely of fine Corinthian leather …

“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

And the nickname now hanging perilously in the balance? It’s “Good, Round Friend”!

Denotations, Connotations, Implications, Intimations, and Incriminations:

Near the end of Arnold Lobel’s “Owl At Home,” a timeless rumination on a sexless and epicene bachelor, the titular character refers to the moon as his “Good, Round Friend.” And so, on this fine day, the NotGraphs collective shall also refer to someone as “Good, Round Friend.” And this someone shall be a ballplayer.

This ballplayer should be rather large in frame and bearing and should also be an amiable and charming hail-fellow-well met. Or, at the least, he should impress you as such within the dreamscape of your fondest imaginings, since you will never meet him and he cares not a whit whether you live or are murdered with a shillelagh. So: portly and awesome. Like Falstaff. Not like a self-important tenor.

Prototypes from Baseball’s Gauzy Past:

Babe Ruth was fat and convivial. So he works. David Wells works, I suppose, particularly since, insofar as the qualities of a “Good, Round Friend” are concerned, a case of the gout is self-recommending. Terry Forster? Ray King? The healthy preponderance of all middle relievers?

Guiding, Determinative Query:

What current major-league player should be nicknamed “Good, Round Friend”?

The convention floor, which is, appropriately enough, brimming with good, round friends, is open for nominations …

Names have been placed into nomination, and fierce, charged, brawny, rippled, turgid, veiny, sweat-kissed back-channel negotiations have trimmed the list down to 10. Here, then, are your fortunate nominees for the nickname of “Victorian Sex Rebel.” Interested in the spittle-flecked arguments for or against the hopefuls in question? Don your parliamentarian capris and wade into the nomination thread. Then and as always, vote like no one’s watching …

The Diebold Robot and his Lidless Eye thank you for contributing to the appearance of honest democracy.

Our ongoing quest, in the manner of the noble knight-errant, is to assign players to cool nicknames rather than indulge in the tired, shopworn paradigm of assigning nicknames to cool players.

First, though, a brief jaunt through our Nickname Seeks Player Vaulted Halls of Honor:

“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

The nickname up for grabs in this episode? It’s “Victorian Sex Rebel”!

The writer was reading a review of this book, and his first thought was not, “This is potentially an important addition to existing socio-historical scholarship.” Rather, his first thought was, “‘Victorian Sex Rebel’ would make a fine nickname.” And so it is.

Denotations, Connotations, Implications, Intimations, and Incriminations:

The Victorian era was, of course, a time of restrained passions. One did not do certain things in polite company. Sometimes, one did not do anything in polite company. Indeed, for the bodice-ripper to exist, there must first be the binding oppression of the bodice itself.

So the Victorian Sex Rebel was one whose mighty will, heart and loins could not be harnessed by the times. Or it could be someone whose contrived image was at odds with his inner malaise. Something like that.

Prototypes from Baseball’s Gauzy Past:

Bo Belinsky made baseball love to innumerable foxy ladies while the 60s were still the 50s. Joe DiMaggio affected an image of impossible grace even though he was, at heart, something of a miserable weirdo. A pilot killed a drunken Lon Koenecke with a fire extinguisher. So there was at least something Victorian Sex Rebellish about Mr. Koenecke, since I can’t imagine that being killed by a pilot with a fire extinguisher was ever a thing no matter how unruly the times.

Guiding, Determinative Query:

Which current major-league player should be nicknamed “Victorian Sex Rebel”?

The convention floor, which, appropriately enough, is lousy with sex hammocks, is now open for nominations …

Prostitutes have descended upon the convention floor (as requested by a certain randy delegate from Ohio), and that means the nominating process is done. So rejoice, suffragists: the time to vote has come! At stake in this urgent referendum? The matter of which current player should be nicknamed “Aqua Velva Man!”

As always, the nominees have been culled to suit the whims of the Secret Monarch …

Our ongoing quest, in the manner of the noble knight-errant, is to assign players to cool nicknames rather than indulge in the tired, shopworn paradigm of assigning nicknames to cool players.

First, though, a brief jaunt through our Nickname Seeks Player Vaulted Halls of Honor:

“Bad Miracle” – Wily Mo Peña
“Captain Black Tobacco” – John Danks
“$45 Couch” – Yuniesky Betancourt
“Liván Hernández” – Liván Hernández
“Frog in the Pot” – Carlos Zambrano

The nickname up for grabs in this episode? It’s “Aqua Velva Man”!

Read the rest of this entry »

Out of the chaos of the convention floor comes your list of nominees, whittled down by the Maximum Exchequer and a certain oversexed sergeant-at-arms. Who — who! — should be named forevermore “Frog in the Pot”? (As always, please refrain from voting unless you’re a property-owning Episcopalian.)

Conflicted? By all means, read over the convention minutes and let the delegates persuade you with their Hot Parliamentary Action!