Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.
Here at NotGraphs, we’re taking it relatively easy today. We have a ritual. We gather together at the home of our beloved leader, Carson Cistulli, where we feast on the greatest creature that God has ever bestowed on the Earth, the Ken Turzimmoon:
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I’ve gotten a lot of questions about why I put Justin Verlander first on the AL MVP ballot this year. I thought I’d offer a glimpse into my reasoning by publishing my top five picks with commentary:
1. Justin Verlander. When I sat down to try to figure out what “MVP” stood for, he was the first guy that came to mind. Most Valuable Pitcher? Definitely — as long as you’re not counting C.C. Sabathia, which I try not to ’cause he’s a Yankee. Although I do like the way he wears his hat all tipsy. But back to Verlander: 24 meaningless wins! 8.96 strikeouts per 9 innings! Sideburns as good as Luke Perry’s! Detroit is otherwise sad! Amazing!
2. Dustin Pedroia: Most Valuable Player [On My Fantasy Team]. I’ve been quietly living the nightmare of having made Matt “Shattered Hopes” Wieters my single franchise player in my keeper league until this year, when a little man called Laser Show entered my life and changed my attitude forever. Stay gold, Pedroia, you’re gonna be around for awhile.
3. This bulldog puppy: Most Valuable Puppy. This slot was a tough call, as y’all can probably imagine, but my heart told me at the last minute that he was going to be the winner. Whenever he’s on, even when no one’s in the room, my mouth goes to nonesense words that start with a “sh” sound. His VORPuppy is at least 80.5, and that’s accounting for breed factors.
4. If I Was Your Girlfriend: Most Valuable Prince [Song]. Look, I’ll admit that “Do Me Baby,” or even the overrated “Kiss” might be more likely to get (you) on base. But “If I Was Your Girlfriend” has an above-average bittersweet quotient while managing to maintain a very consistent sexiness. And in the clutch? “Sometimes I trip on how happy we could be” can’t be beat.
5. Logan Morrison: Most Valuable Player [On Twitter]. Was there ever really a question with performances like this?
P.S. 6-10 are jalepeno, Big Sexy Hair’s Powder Play, Bubbles (RIP), tortellini, and Jose Bautista — you figure it out.
As regular – and stupendously handsome – NotGraphs reader and commenter Yirmiyahu pointed out in an email to our underground headquarters over the weekend: We must feast. Especially during the offseason.
#Feastmode!
This is Keith Olbermann interviewing an actor portraying Christy Mathewson about what really happened during – no giggles, please – Merkle’s boner.
I don’t know why this isn’t a more common-place gimmick: imagine Babe Ruth going on about how good ballpark hot dogs were in the ’20s, or Joe DiMaggio dishing out some naughty Marilyn details, or Ty Cobb in a roundtable on whether Matt Kemp or Ryan Braun should have won the MVP (That would sure be a fun discussion). I think a casting call is in order, Baseball Tonight.
And yes, Olbermann’s moustache is funny.
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.
Anaphora is a rhetorical device wherein the author begins consecutive lines with the same word or phrase, generally to create a crescendo-like effect.
It can be used to give the impression of writerliness and/or to mount an offensive on the reader’s faith in human potential, as demonstrated by Mitch Albom in his Detroit Free Press article on Justin Verlander’s AL MVP victory, the relevant excerpt of which article you can read here (bold is mine):
And here’s the best part:
He earned it.
He earned it because he went 24-5. He earned it because he owned his starts from June through September. He earned it because he had 250 strikeouts and was as close to a sure thing as you get in sports. He earned it because he rested the next day’s bullpen every time he pitched into the seventh, eighth or ninth.
He earned it because whenever the Tigers slipped on a banana peel, he was there to catch them, breaking possible slumps, keeping climbing opponents at bay.
He earned it because he was dominant. Because he was lights out. Because he threw a no-hitter and threatened a couple more. Because he got stronger as the game went on, relying on placement early and bringing the heat late. Who throws FASTER in the eighth inning? Are you kidding?
Here we see the four members of the Memphis Chapter of the International League (Of Superheroes), signing some autographs before the game. Are you not familiar with the Memphis Chapter of the International League (Of Superheroes)? Allow me to introduce you!
The Hulk: With the ability to play in a time prior to steroid (and now HGH, thanks, new CBA!) testing!
Iron Man: With the ability to wear even more hit-by-pitch avoidance armor than Barry Bonds!
Rick Ankiel: With the ability to throw things really fast in random directions from sixty feet, six inches away!*
The Memphis Redbird: With the ability to fly! And be from Memphis! Or something!
*Also, grit.
Author’s note: I am fully aware the Justice League is a DC Comics group of superheroes, and the superheroes on this comic book cover are Marvel comics. My preemptive retort to those who would bring up this point of fact is as follows: NERD!
Other author’s note: hat tip to Pitchers and Poets on tumblr for bringing this excellent cover to my attention.
Reader, take a trip with me. Back to the mid-1980s. Ronald Reagan is running for reelection in between naps. Prince is complicating heterosexuality by being at once sexually virile and a little pixy of a man. Pastel is the new black. And John Hughes rules the world with an iron fist.
Into this landscape saunters Steve Balboni, who blesses you with his divine image below:
Click, if thou wouldst dare embiggen Him.
Steve Balboni is more than a man. He is a legend. A muscle-bound, mustachioed misanthrope who raged against American League pitching in the mid-’80s, but who was ultimately doomed by his refusal to do anything but swing really really hard and hope he made contact, but not before hitting 181 home runs and inspiring the greatest opening line of any AP article ever: “If Steve Balboni knows Steve Balboni, American League pitchers had better take cover for a while.” Read the rest of this entry »
In what was perhaps a moderately surprising result, Milwaukee Brewers left fielder Ryan Braun beat out Los Angeles Dodgers center fielder Matt Kemp by a comfortable 56 point margin. The award was not undeserved; Braun’s .433 wOBA and 179 wRC+ just edged out those of Kemp, making him the most productive offensive player in the NL. Braun also becomes the first Jew since Sandy Koufax in 1963 to take home the prize.
Today, I caught up with Braun over the phone.
Ryan Braun: Hello?
Eric Augenbraun: Hi there, is this Ryan Braun?
RB: Yes it is. Who’s this?
EA: Hi, this is Eric Augenbraun of the baseball website NotGraphs. I was hoping I could ask you a few questions.
RB: Yeah…Wait, how did you get this number?
EA: Well, it’s a long story, but the short version is that I paid off someone at your restaurant.
RB: Wow bro. That seems…unethical.
EA: Maybe. But it’s a cutthroat business I’m in. You do what you gotta do to get the scoop. Anyways, now that I have you, do you think maybe you could answer a few questions?
RB: I guess. Try to make it quick though. It’s been a crazy day.
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 …
