Over the past several weeks, we’ve received a half-dozen or so unsolicited requests from Shannon Barnett, creator of careersincriminaljustice.net (which I’m not going to link to, as I value the security of your computers almost as much as you do), which “serves as a great resource for new students looking to find all the info they need on getting an online Criminal Justice Degree.”  She would very much be interested in doing a guestpost on FanGraphs.

Obviously, she would be a great fit.  That goes without saying.  But Sharon didn’t provide much direction.  She would “be happy to write an article about any topic that you would like.  It will only be used on your website….I would certainly appreciate any opportunity to write an article. Feel free to suggest an idea, or if you prefer I can just come up with one.”

We wouldn’t want Shannon to have to put any additional thought into her piece, so it’s with great enthusiasm that I suggest the following topics for her.  Also, feel free to suggest your own in the comments.  Perhaps this can set up more democracy in the future, as we collectively decide what topic careers in criminal justice expert Shannon Barnett is best equipped to contribute on here at the *Graphs family.

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Baseball, while lonesome, is nothing like life.
Otherwise no one would play.

It doesn’t diminish you, rend you in quite the same way.
But it can diminish you.
It teaches you things about baseball, not about our vain grasps at some animal spark.
It is within a rubric of one.

The metaphors, like metaphors, do not hold.
It need not take you away from something.
It need only be something.
Which it is.
It need only take you toward something.
Which it will.

So here’s your first glove.
Smell it. That won’t change much. Pound it.
Put it in the oven if it’s too stiff.
I mean that.
Rip the ties tight with your teeth.
I remember that the best players would do that.

Keep a ball in it at night.
This is important for purposes of seasoning.
And liturgy.
One day it will feel like a dead hand.

I hope you’re better at this than I was.

SWEET MERCIFUL HEAVENS, WHY WAS I NOT
INFORMED OF THIS MAN SOONER?!

The name. The scraggly mustache. The hair, flipped out like my older sister loved to do in high school.

Not only is Pete LaCock’s family name LaCock — which is French (which he spoke) for “the cock” — but his first name is Peter, which means “rock.” Also, according to my Chrome dictionary app:

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I got a late start on everything, I think. I didn’t kiss a girl till I was 20; by the time I actually listened to an entire Pavement album, they’d broken up; I’d never heard of Bill James until I read Moneyball in the autumn of 2003; and I’d managed to make it through an entire Bachelor’s program in English (concentration in poetry) without even hearing of poets like Charles Olson or Alice Notley. I was introduced to these poets and myriad others only after taking a job at Woodland Pattern Book Center, probably the greatest poetry bookstore in the United States. It was at WPBC that I finally found Tom Clark’s Baseball — over 30 years after it was published.

I’ll cut to the quick: Baseball is a – perhaps the – must-read book for those who appreciate the NotGraphs approach to fanaticism.

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Presenting “The Adventures of Batboy!”:

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UPDATE: MLB.com has uploaded Cameron’s appearance to their site, so that all the world can remember this world-changing moment.

An enterprising member of the World Wide Web appears to have captured and uploaded to YouTube footage from managing editor Dave Cameron’s appearance yesterday (Monday) on MLB Network’s Clubhouse Confidential (link).

Absent from this clip — and I don’t know why, really — is the three-minute stretch during which Cameron made a series of horrible remarks about Brian Kenny’s mother, a lot of it in what I’m pretty sure was Polish.

Pascual Perez was quite the interesting cat. At first, I wondered: How can a man who stands six feet, two inches tall weigh only 163 pounds? The answer: Drugs. Of course! Cocaine, to be more specific. Helluva drug, I’m told. Back in March 1992, after failing a drug test, Perez accused the New York Yankees of setting him up. A month later, Perez said, “I’m not the bad guy. The procedure was bad. I did nothing wrong.” The first step — again, so I’ve been told — is admitting you have a problem.

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Via The Big Event comes unsurprising word that the Oakland A’s 2012 calendar is chock full of infelicities and grim reminders. The belowly embedded image, much like my revenge-fists, shall do the talking:

Mr. Peter Hartlaub goes on to tell us that within the A’s 2012 calendar we find four months devoted to players traded, one to a player injured, one to a manager fired, and one to the dark heart and ways of Cliff Pennington.

Depressing stuff for any A’s loyalist, no? So in order to cheer them up, here’s Davey Lopes with enough devil-may-care jubilance to go around:

Wait, I definitely recognize one of them. Maybe that other guy seems vaguely familiar.

Buried in the Minneapolis Star Tribune story titled “Ex-Twins Dickey, Slowey scale Mount Kilimanjaro” is this nugget:

While Mets management tried to discourage Dickey from the arduous pursuit, the Rockies were fine with Slowey going ahead.

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Apropos of mostly nothing, here are three things that Hall of Famer Bert Blyleven has worn on his head before:

Cake Hat:

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