(Click to embiggen)

I was watching the top-80 plays of the week (or whatever arbitrary number they choose) last night on MLB Network, and this catch by Jason Kubel was #11.

MLB Network tells me it’s a great play, and they and ESPN and all the other “they”s have been telling me that similar catches have been telling me that similar catches are “great plays” ever since my first cable TV subscription. But really, is it great? How many other right fielders make that catch? Is it only a great play because Jason Kubel is so bad at outfielding that it take the utmost of his defensive effort in order to make a play that could be stressful but not entirely difficult for the average fielder?

Of course, maybe that is precisely what makes it a great play: it took anything and everything in Kubel’s defensive arsenal to make that play, and for that reason, we should be impressed. Perhaps I’m thinking too much like a UZR calculator, thinking that it’s not impressive if the average fielder makes that play 69.2735329% of the time.

Maybe. I’m not sure. Although what I am sure is that this precise dilemma is why we as a community have such a tremendously difficult time evaluating defensive players, even those that we watch every day with our own eyes.

But I digress. What do you guys think? Is it a great play?

A cry for help.

Last week, FanGraphs’ Joe Pawlikowski posed the above question to the entire world. Since I’m technically NotGraphs’ advice columnist, I thought I owed him a response.

Read the rest of this entry »

If you’ve ever seen Kyle Blanks — in person, on TV, in a dream you had this one time but’d prefer not to talk about — then the above image (captured from the official site of Minor League Baseball) will give you a brief chuckle before you turn back to considerably more important things.

If you haven’t ever seen Blanks, then picture a bear in a Padres cap. Except the bear can talk and eats normal food. And it has to pay taxes like everyone else and also it has human parents. And it went to college for a little bit. And some other things.

Nominally, this is a WGN sports report from July of 1991. In reality, it’s a case study in what can happen when man is stripped of his civilizing influences.

Annotations follow, with time-elapsed marks.

0:00 — Video begins with frightening ghost-person* looking directly into soul of viewer. (*Direct translation from German.)

0:08 — Anchorman uses words “rock and roll” in manner befitting of his era.

0:10 — Festive collared t-shirt!

0:22 — Soccer player, for some reason, jogs behind correspondent at Wrigley Field.

0:44 — “Oop, that’s the wrong tape.”

0:56 — Joe West assumes the position.

1:04 — Joe West resumes the position.

1:11 — Andre Dawson experiments with look he calls the “I Just Killed Your Family.”

1:16 — Bat-tossing!

1:23 — Bat-tossing!

1:30 — Joe West experiments with look he calls “The Horrible Child.”

1:34 — Bat-tossing!

1:40 — Commence cheerful littering.

1:56 — Rob Dibble does legitimately strange thing.

2:01 — Unusually incisive commentary regarding Rob Dibble’s mental health.

2:31 — Andre Dawson gives brief tutorial on how to properly groom and wear a mustache.

2:47 — Andre Dawson distinguishes himself among ballplayers for using adverb.

3:28 — Andre Dawson articulates something particular about Joe West.

4:20 — Phrase “mighty Toronto Blue Jays” uttered without irony.

4:27 — Hawk Harrelson’s voice happens.

Deep, prostrating bow to reader/ubermensch glassSheets.

From today’s Cubs/Dodgers game in Chicago (where it’s 45 degrees out according to the ever-suspicious Weather Channel), we have Chad Billingsley running the bases in a jacket.

(Click to embiggen)

I feel like a bird-watcher who has stumbled upon a bald eagle in its natural home. Shh, don’t disturb it! And if you touch its nest, it’ll throw away the children.

(Hat tip: Mike Petriello of Mike Scioscia’s Tragic Illness and much much more.)

Life without MLB.TV can be painful.

Have you tried to watch a baseball game on your PlayStation 3 recently? Did you get a message like this after trying to sign in?

An error has occurred. You have been signed out of PlayStation Network. (80710A06)

If so, then you are everyone who’s tried to log on to same Network over the last 36 hours.

Per the official PlayStation blog:

While we are investigating the cause of the Network outage, we wanted to alert you that it may be a full day or two before we’re able to get the service completely back up and running. Thank you very much for your patience while we work to resolve this matter. Please stay tuned to this space for more details, and we’ll update you again as soon as we can.

National nightmare? Perhaps not. But as Slate notes, there are approximately 70 million subscribers to the PlayStation Network — which that’s pretty significant (although not news that’s “fit to print,” apparently).

Bob Uecker is a fixture of American high-brow culture.

Though Larry Granillo of mortal enemy Baseball Prospectus is right to suspect that I’ve thought such a thing in my head, I did not write the following entry for Bob Uecker at Urban Dictionary (emphases mine, everything else sic):

One of the most legendary baseball announcers of all time. Born in 1935, Uecker was raised in Milwaukee, WI. Uecker played major league baseball for 5 seasons, stretching from 1962 to 1967. Career highlights include being “intentionally” walked by Sandy Koufax and getting out of rundown against the mets. He is also an established comedian and actor. His words are that of pure greatness, similar to ones of a deity. Uecker has numerous famous quotes like, “Juuuuust a bit outside” and “Heeey Struck him out”. (Uecker actually says He but in excitement it turns out to be Hey) Bob Uecker won the Ford C. Frick award in 2003 and is a Milwaukee Brewer Hall-of-Fame member. Bob Uecker is more than likely a disciple of God, and one of the greatest men to every grace this beautiful earth.

Who is the author? That’s the million-dollar lire question.

We have some clues, though:

• Our author’s user name is Mitchell-Francis.
• User Mitchell-Francis wrote two other definitions: a (negative) one for Lopez Tonight and also for Jimmy jacked.
• As in, “Everyone’s real jimmy-jacked that this post is finally over.”

Last week, I gave you those baseball players that make up the latter half of my top 10 most favorite baseball players in the whole wide world. If you missed it, and would like to read my most scientific of scientific reasoning, here’s the post. However, since then, I’ve had to make one change to those very rankings. Here they are, in short order:

10. Melky Cabrera and Coco Crisp. It’s a tie. Actually, to be more specific, Melky Cabrera and Coco Crisp’s afro.
9. Kirk Rueter
8. Paul O’Neill
7. Tony Fernandez
6. Mark McGwire

Without further ado, I present my top five:

5. J.T. Snow

The more I thought about this most fruitful exercise, the more I thought about J.T. Snow. And I’ve come to the realization that, deep down, I’ve always had an affinity for slick-fielding first basemen. And that love affair began with J.T. Snow. The scoop at first, it’s an art. And Snow was an artist. He wasn’t the greatest hitter, and, even though he spent the majority of his career in the National League, I always kept a watchful eye on Jack Thomas’ career. And, hey, on top of winning six straight Gold Gloves, Snow saved young Darren Baker’s life. That counts. (On an aside, I’ll never forget Dusty Baker’s reaction in the dugout after the incident. Baker knew, as we all did, that when he got home that night, he was a dead man.) In the end, two years after his retirement, Snow’s career ended the way so many players’ don’t: He signed a one-day contract with San Francisco, and left the game once and for all a Giant.

4. Ken Griffey Jr.

“The Kid.” That swing. Along with John Olerud’s, the sweetest swing I’ve ever seen. It’s rare for a player so highly touted — a first overall draft pick — to not only meet, but exceed lofty expectations. Ken Griffey Jr. did, and more. He played with his father, he played with swagger, and he played center field the way I did in my dreams. Junior was the reason I wished I didn’t bat right-handed. Junior was the reason I tried, at the very least, to switch hit.

Last summer, I was in Seattle to watch the Mariners only a few of days after Junior announced his sudden retirement. I spoke to a man outside Safeco Field, who left a written message on a photo of Griffey Jr. that adorned the ballpark’s wall. (I did, too.) The man, this baseball stranger who I’d never met before and will never meet again, was super emotional as we spoke, after I asked him to describe what Griffey Jr. meant to him. “[Ken Griffey Jr.] built this ballpark, man” he said, fighting back tears. “He saved baseball in Seattle.” It was raw emotion. “I wanted one more chance to see him,” he said. We all did.

Junior did it all, from playing with his father, to playing at home in Cincinnati, to returning to Seattle, where it all began. Full circle. If healthy, there’s no doubt he goes down as one of the best ever. Growing up, it didn’t matter where you were from or who you rooted for. You wanted to be like “The Kid.”

Read the rest of this entry »

Buck Showalter doesn’t understand today’s kids, what with their Pokemon cards and their cans of Four Loko and their breakdancing and their Jordache jeans. What he really doesn’t understand, though, is why someone can’t just sing the damn National Anthem the way the composers — John Wayne, Patrick Henry and Superman — intended …

If it makes you feel any better, Buck, know that it gets worse. So, so much worse …

(Gratitude in song: Parker Hageman)

That beautiful mustachioed gentleman you see there is Mr. Josh Collmenter, circa July 2008. If Mr. Collmenter’s name sounds familiar, it’s either because (a) you read about his unique pitching delivery in these pages last November, (b) you read about his recent promotion two days ago at our buttoned-up parent site, or (c) it just sounds like a pretty normal American name. (Please note: those are the only three possible ways you’ve ever heard Josh Collmenter’s name. Don’t even start pretending like there’s some fourth way or something. That’s ridiculous.)

Being the sort of person who’s paid handsomely just to sit at home and amuse himself, I was watching this afternoon’s contest between Collmenter’s Diamondbacks and the Cardinals of St . Louis when broadcaster Matt Vasgersian made reference to a promotion in which Collmenter had played a major role while a minor-leaguer with the Sound Bend Silver Hawks — a promotion called Mustache Appreciation Night.

Let me repeat that in red Comic Sans just case you’re impaired in one way or another. What I said was:

Read the rest of this entry »