Archive for Obvious Conspiracy

I know, I know. I too am skeptical of 11-minute YouTube videos. Such a span falls inconveniently between the 30-second yuks that MTV and Judge Learned Hand have told us we crave and the more sprawling run times necessary to enjoy hot popped maize and a tumbler of Jameson. But I urge you — with the primal, red-faced desperation that I normally reserve for trying to get retailers to honor manufacturer and store coupons — to watch this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iIe9FkZv4Uw&feature=related

Much like a color television with wheels, this is a thing that is not new but is new to me. So if you’ve already seen it, then I look forward to your telling me so in the comments section.

I have some observations about what we have just fathomed. As much as I would like to, I’ll not ape Eno Sarris and number my thoughts. Rather, I shall use bullet points, which, according to a recent internal memorandum, are preferred by the gentleman with a bright future in sales. Also, I do not have 10 things to say. Forthwith …

I imagine this is not unlike the Dodger Stadium mound of the 1960s. This is also not unlike what happens when Jon Rauch faces Dustin Pedroia.

Barry Bonds is occasionally very serious about making this happen.

In this situation, I would opt for protective headgear — most probably the “Great Gazoo” helmet favored by Francisco Cervelli. Alternatively, I would not agree to do this.

Respect to Trampo-Pitcher for ceding the platoon advantage in each plate appearance.

And Bernie Williams and his awesome Cardinal Richelieu beard agree with me about the helmet. My inner coward, for which validation is nourishment, is validated.

Perhaps the guy with the most discerning batting eye in the annals of time was not the best choice for this necessary experiment? From the darkened clubhouse tunnel, Vlad Guerrero watches on in envy, longing.

That’s clearly a balk at the 7:41 mark. Fortunately for the moundsman, he is a stranger to baserunners.

And could this end any other way? Ichiro is invoked, and said invocations lead to a righteous humbling of the big cheater and his jumping machine.

A lingering embrace — one that goes on an instant too long — for NotGraphs reader John Murn, who passed this along in exchange for nothing more than the currency of glory.

Yesterday, I gave the people what they have long demanded: the opportunity to receive a nickname befitting the 19th-Century Baltimore Orioles. The problem, though, is that too many of you received duplicate nicknames. Too many of you received my nickname — “The Salty Bronco.” Clearly the fix was in, and I’ll not abide such sullying of my honest toil.

So what to do? As ever, the impulses of Nyjer Morgan provide the blueprint for success in life and in business. If Morgan can call himself “Tony Plush,” which is the greatest presently extant baseball nickname, then why can’t you, page viewer, roll yer own? You can.

Below, after the jump, I’ll list the complete menu of nickname choices — many of them buried by the name-generator interface in the service of its sordid intentions …

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While one can hardly blame French-Canadian elements for cultivating some hostility toward our fair game, why take it out on the poor semi-pro Ottawa Fat Cats and their awesome team name?

What am I talking about? This:

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This Lenny Dykstra interview with Philly’s NBC10 contains multitudes. Por ejemplo:

In summary: Mr. Dykstra 1, Murderous Bankers of America 0. Winning indeed.

(Manly, punishing handshake: Deadspin)

Headlines are a funny thing. They are designed to get your attention, or the attention of a search engine somewhere, while summing up the contents in a pithy way. Often they contain internet memes or SEO-optimization key words. Sometimes, like today, they contain both. /header #MLB #baseball

Over the years we’ve had some fun with the “Free Person X” internet meme, which most probably spawned from Free Mumia, but has since gone a little crzazlebeans, if you know what I mean, and baseball has taken the saying under it’s wing. Whether it’s Kila Ka’aihue that must be #freed from the clutches of the incompetent Royals, or Brandon Allen that must fight the good fight against the spaced invaders that wish to take his playing time, we’ve used that sentence construction to encourage young men to go against what’s wrong. Having been guilty of capriciously throwing the phrase around just last week, this is no finger-wagging piece, though.

Instead, call this piece the anthropological wanderings inspired by the title and subject of a serious piece by Larry Behrendt at It’s About the Money Stupid. In his latest, Larry examines the fate of young Lainer Bueno. The Venezuelan shortstop may not have a future in baseball, but attribute that mostly to a fateful combination of a lack of major-league talent (228/.336/.239 in Venezuelan Summer League) and the possibly unfortunate positive test for clenbuterol. The combination has him a free agent, and Larry thinks it’s an injustice.

Read the whole thing, do it. Afterwards, you may feel that our entry point to this article was all wrong today. Behrendt’s piece is a serious uncovering of the holes in MLB’s drug testing policy as it relates to Venezuelans and clenbuterol in particular. It looks like there’s a real reason the league may want to look at the fact that, according to “Scorecasting” by Tobias Moskowitz and Jon Wertheim, Venezuelan baseball players are about 4 times more likely to test positive for drugs than their American counterparts. It may not just be about skeezy agents in Latin America. The beef may be the real meat to the story.

But the title, and even the article, can make a mind wander to other “Free” movements in baseball. The parallels may seem stretched, and its continued use may even seem to cheapen the phrase. On the other hand, injustice exists. And whether the injustice at hand is an unequal appropriation of playing time, an unfair exclusion from the sport, or an incarceration surrounded by real questions, it doesn’t deserve to continue. And if it takes a hashtag, a slogan, a link and a few re-tweets to uncover and document that injustice, that’s about the least we can do.

Scratch that, it’s the very least we can do.

As the image above ought to communicate instantly, Twitter-user and sportswriting watchdog Alex Walsh has stumbled upon something veeeeeeeery curious, indeed.

So far as I can see, there are three — and only three — possible explanations for the trend that Walsh has identified:

1. Coincidence. FanGraphs authors just happen to be writing same story.

Possiblity? Unlikely!

2. Thievery. FanGraphs authors are plagiarizing Neyer’s ideas as soon as he produces them.

Possibility? Reasonable.

3. Conspiracy. Have you ever seen Rob Neyer and Jonah Keri and Joe Pawlikowski and Dave Cameron and Matt Klaassen and Chris Cwik and Jack Moore and Patrick Newman and Matthew Carruth and Eno Sarris and Dave Allen in the same room*? I didn’t think so. Why? Because they’re all the same person, is why.

Possibility? Almost definite!

*Note: You actually CAN see a bunch of these guys in the same room by attending FanGraphs Live in Arizona.