the Pittsburgh Pirates shout because they won
and in a sense we’re all winning
we’re alive

— Frank O’Hara, “Steps”

One of the challenges of life is finding new ways to remind ourselves that it (i.e. life) is amazing. Louis CK laments our ability to do this consistently in a popular appearance on Conan O’Brien. But Louis CK has, by no means, cornered the market on attempting to reveal for the benefit of an audience that we’re all, always, winning.

In a sense, the work of poet Frank O’Hara — who, if you’re not familiar with him, was kind of a big deal in the the tiny, tiny world of poems — represents a constant attempt to provoke the reader into re-seeing the world.

In fact, if O’Hara’s work has a flaw, it’s that it suffers from an excess of enthusiasm. In baseball, we learn, only so many opportunities present themselves for the walkoff home run (or walkoff other-type-of-thing) and its attendant joys. Just as the constraints of a baseball game only conspire to create so many revelatory moments, so do the constraints of life. Pretending otherwise is disingenuous; writing poems that pretend otherwise makes those poems feel strained.

But O’Hara’s work is successful enough of the time to be important. And the reader, using discretion, can shape his approach to O’Hara’s work to maximize its benefits. The comparisons to how we might approach life are too obvious to be explicated. The difficulty, of course, is in the actual doing. When we speak of life being difficult, I assume this is what we’re talking about.

It is with a heavy heart that I must report, based on the reporting of others, that Marlins utility man and former Braves All-Star Omar Infante has sustained a devastating injury. To wit:

MIAMI — Florida Marlins second baseman Omar Infante has broken his right middle finger diving for a grounder against the St. Louis Cardinals.

Infante appeared in pain but stayed in the game Thursday night after his unsuccessful attempt to field the grounder by Skip Schumaker. The ball deflected off Infante’s glove and rolled into right field for a two-run double in the third inning.

This injury will severely limit Mr. Infante’s ability to make obscene gestures and play baseball for a yet undisclosed period of time. As of now, we can only hold our breaths and hope for the best.

Many may believe that this injury can be understood only as a freak occurrence that can simply be chalked up bad luck. I reject that. Every calamity must happen for a reason, after all, and (as NotGraphs’ foremost expert on the supernatural) I believe that Omar Infante is yet another player to fall victim to the infamous “Curse of Old Hoss.”

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Much like ESPN’s Buster Olney, I love anecdotes. Especially  baseball anecdotes. And most especially  if said baseball anecdotes are about, or have anything at all to do with, Joe West. The above, that’s a pretty good Joe West baseball anecdote.

I can’t help but wonder what Joe West was thinking, his tunes playing over Fenway Park’s speakers. I wonder if the fans were frightened. Massholes, help a brother out: Were you there? Do you remember this incredible occasion?

I also can’t help but wonder if John Smoltz had to do everything in his power to keep a straight face during his warm-up. And, most of all, I wonder if the tribute helped Smoltz’s strike zone.

Smoltz took the loss that fateful night, July 26, 2009. To Baltimore, no less. He allowed six runs in five innings, and gave up nine hits. He struck out six, and walked one. But it hardly mattered. Thanks to his warm-up, Smoltz had already won.

Once again, we were so flooded with nominations that the Executive Royal Council of Elder Governors Men was forced to make some difficult decisions.

Now, Whigs and Bull Mooses, it is time to vote. Which player should be nicknamed “Liván Hernández”? Make with the democracy below …

Flourishing almost a hundred years before the birth of Pharrell Williams, Fleet Walker was the original black nerd. Not only did Walker run his own newspaper and manage an opera house, but, as a graduate of Oberlin College, he likely could fashion a pipe out of any number of household items.

It was for this — and also probably how he was the first African-American in the majors* — that the Toledo Mud Hens presented the first thousand fans at this past Monday’s game with a Moses Fleetwood Walker bobblehead.

*Evidence suggests that William Edward White appeared in one game with the Providence Grays in 1879, but was hardly a fixture in the team like Walker.

The attentive reader will note that Walker’s excellent mustache was not neglected in the creation of this True Collector’s Item. The attentive reader is also invited to cast his eyes below, where (upon clicking) an alarmingly sized image of said bobblehead is available for consumption-via-eyes.

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From the inimitable Royals Review comes this transcript, a quote from Dayton Moore at a blogger get-together Wednesday night in Kansas City.

We’re never gonna out-talent anybody here. I understand it goes with the territory, but there was a lot of criticism deflected about why we would sign a guy like Jeff Francoeur. But the truth of the matter is we’re not going to out-talent anybody here in Kansas City. It’s impossible to do.

We’ve got one of the smallest markets in all of sports, period. Our owner is a terrific owner, but he’s not going to go out and spend a $100 million payroll and a $100 million payroll when we can only sustain a $55 million or $60 million payroll in this market.

So we’ve gotta, our team has to be better than anybody else. We have to have synergy. We have to have togetherness, very similar to what the Colorado Rockies had three years ago. They had some young, talented players. But they played together, they loved each other, their families got along, and they went out and played hard every single night.

Of course, this quote describes a fault line between sabermetrically-inclined and old school baseball analysts. But let us pretend for a while that we all agree that synergy is very important to baseball success. Since Mr. Moore has suggested that the Rockies had this essence three years ago but don’t any longer, it is something that a very similar group of players can have and lose. So, it follows that synergy is something that is almost independent of the players themselves. And, therefore, it can be manipulated.

So! A list of activities for your synergy-less team that needs to find togetherness! All to completed with family in tow, of course.

1) Viagra Ice Cream Socials
2) Red Rover
3) Simulated Broom Hockey
4) “Never Have I Ever”
5) Extreme Egg Toss
6) Sack Race
7) Three-Legged Relay Race
8) Reggae Hum That Tune
9) Human Taco
10) Surprise Trust Falls

Much like Big Bank Hank, Mike Axisa (of River Ave. Blues and RotoGraphs) is both (a) 6-foot-1 and also (b) tons of fun. (It’s also very possible that, like the aforementioned Hank, he owns a color TV.)

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I live-blogged Wednesday night’s thrashing of the Chicago White Sox by the New York Yankees for Canadian sports broadcasting titan The Score. It was good times: I discovered, and documented, Eric Chavez’s Comeback ‘Stache, and was reminded what an absolute bloody nightmare it is to watch Alex Rios play baseball.

In the third inning, the White Sox already down 10-1, Mark Teixeira sent a line-drive into center field. Rios, in oblivious, Rios-like, head case fashion, charged the ball. It went right by him, of course. (This is after Rios misplayed a Curtis Granderson fly ball in the first inning, too, letting it drop in front of him.) The photograph above is of Rios racing  all the way to the wall to retrieve the baseball he so badly misplayed. Not in a dead sprint, with his head down, oh no, but leisurely, Rios even looking back to see if Teixeira was trying to gallop all the way home for an inside the park job.

Teixeira didn’t, and ended up at third base. Somehow, Rios wasn’t charged with an error on the play. The box score’s play-by-play reads:

M. Teixeira tripled to shallow center, B. Gardner and D. Jeter scored.

Yeah, no. That was an error if I’d ever seen one. Even in a 10-1 game. Nobody “triples” to shallow center field. Frankly, I was surprised that Ozzie Guillen didn’t a) immediately pull Rios from the game, and b) drag Rios by the ear from center field to first base, and beat him with Adam Dunn. Ozzie needed a drink last night. In the worst way. Poor Ozzie.

Things Alex Rios is Thinking

Anyway: Rios. One of the South Side’s favorite suns. Our intrepid NotGraphs Investigative Reporting Investigation Team has confirmed, through telepathy I assume, the thoughts that were racing through Rios’ head, a lot faster than he was physically racing, as he “ran” down Teixeira’s “triple.”

1. Do I have to? I have to, don’t I?

2. Who gives a fuck?! (Editor’s note: He was actually singing  this.)

3. At least I’m hitting .200.

4. On the other hand, if Teixeira hits an inside the park home run, I’ll probably make the highlights.

5. They think Dunn hates baseball.

If you’re looking for more Rios bashing, the Chicago Tribune’s Steve Rosenbloom has you covered, with his aptly titled piece, “Bring me the head of Alex Rios.”

Image credit: Reuters, via daylife.

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

Moving on … The nickname up for grabs in this episode? It’s “Liván Hernández”!

Yes, that’s right: Liván Hernández. We don’t mean Liván Hernández the given legal name, although Liván Hernández the person is certainly eligible for Liván Hernández the nickname. Rather, we pay homage to Liván Hernández the person and his strong yet ultimately failed showings in previous rounds of balloting. As well, we wonder whether someone out there in baseball embodies what it means to be Liván Hernández better than Liván Hernández himself. So this week’s nickname is Liván Hernández.

Denotations, Connotations, Implications, Intimations, and Incriminations:

You might a be large, frumpy pitcher with enough guile, tenacity and Eric Gregg to stick around in the majors until the mountains crumble into the sea. You might be the knuckleballer who never throws a knuckleball. You might be the durable embodiment of average-ness, regardless of role and deployment. You might be a player who, despite that frumpy appearance, for some reason strikes you as a man who makes love like a godhead.

More generally, you might be a ballplayer who readily brings to mind and lips this observation: “This guy seems like Liván Hernández more than Liván Hernández does.” Yes, you might be what we talk about when we talk about Liván Hernández.

Prototypes from Baseball’s Gauzy Past:

Rick Reuschel? Gary Gaetti, who in some ways seems like the position player’s analog of Liván Hernández? Mike LaValliere? Jeff Juden on his best day ever?

Guiding, Determinative Query:

What current major-league player should be nicknamed “Liván Hernández?

The floor, lovesexies, is open for nominations …

Yes, I’m positive that’s not Don Mattingly. And, no, I couldn’t find a better picture of Eric Chavez’s new mustache.

But it’s there. Look closely, and you can see it. And it’s not just any mustache, either. It’s what I like to call a Comeback ‘Stache.

The mustachioed Chavez hit his first home run as a member of the New York Yankees Wednesday night; his first home run since May 11, 2010. He finished 3-for-6, and drove four runs across home plate. It was his most productive game in years. Literally: years. Coincidence? Probably not.

Image credit: The Associated Press, via Yahoo! Sports.