Red State Blue State

Royals' Intrasquad Games Best Chance to See a Royals WIN!

Sometimes I worry that I beat the same tired joke into the ground, causing dear readers galore to groan, growl and grow weary of my tasteless ways.

And then I will run across a headline, like this one on MLB.com, and realize that all of my spew is actually rim-shot-worthy material just writing itself at tremendous speed.  The part I play is actually quite minuscule as I am merely an ebullient conduit for said spew.  Any negative repercussions are clearly someone else's fault (I'm the oldest of seven kids, so I'm an expert at redirecting blame).

But to be perfectly clear, I do not want to be the Matt Drudge of Major League Baseball -- one who takes simple news stories with rigid headlines and turns them into bits of sultry, one-sided crap by reconstructing their titles with right wing conservative Christian buzz words in large red font with quotation marks ad nauseum (this is also known as fear mongering).  If I may be trite, a news story is what it is.

And the Royals are what they are, with or without my chiding.

So let's face it: the Royals are an abomination. They may not be on the exact level of abomination as the Pirates, but they are close behind.  Just look at the rosters for those two intrasquad teams mentioned in the linked article:

Team 1: Scott Podsednik, LF; Chris Getz, 2B; David DeJesus, RF; Josh Fields, 3B; Rick Ankiel, CF; Alberto Callaspo, 2B; Wilson Betemit, DH; Ernesto Mejia, 1B; Brayan Pena, C.

Team 2: Mitch Maier, LF; Jason Kendall, C; Billy Butler, 1B; Jose Guillen, RF; Alex Gordon, 3B; Scott Thorman, DH; Mike Aviles, 2B; Brian Anderson, CF; Yuniesky Betancourt, SS.

Now, tell me you aren't laughing as hard as I am.

Was that a bit harsh?

I don't know.  Isn't it a bit harsh on the five or six fans left in Kansas City to know that their big offseason acquisitions include an old guy who used to run well, a walking concussion who can't hit a breaking ball and another old guy who... well, okay, Jason Kendall might teach those kids something... but Wilson Betemit!?! WTF!?!?

All jokes aside, I can tell you this: there was a time when Royals baseball invoked fear in the minds of all opponents.  Nowadays the only thing invoked by the Kansas City Royals is a quick change of the channel.

Don't hate me 'cuz I'm right.

Peace,

Jeff

These Aren't the Tigers You're Looking For

The Detroit Tigers may have signed Johnny Damon, but I am here to remind all Olde English "D" apologists: on this team you will find no Denny McLain.

On this team, there is no Al Kaline.  There is no Kirk Gibson.  No Jack Morris, no Trammell, no Whitaker.

Heck, this ain't even the ultimately disappointing club that was supposed to win the 2006 World Series.  No, sir.  That squad is now but a bitter memory... and after a series of motor city slips and gaffes including but not limited to Jurrens for Renteria, the brutal rape of their farm system by the merciless Florida Marlins, and a handful of awful contracts best represented by Nate Robertson and Dontrelle Willis, the 2010 Detroit Tigers seem to be more of the weak, purring variety than anything else.

And now that fan favorite Curtis Granderson has been kicked out of the cage, finding fault with this Dave Dombrowski mess is a lot easier than it used to be.

You have Jim Leyland?  Yes, and you also have Jim Leyland cut off from nicotine.

You have athlete extraordinaire, Brandon Inge?  Yes, and you also have his strikeouts.

You have Johnny Damon?  Yes, but you overpaid... and did he come with his wheelchair?

I dunno.  It's not like I hate the Tigers or anything.  I mean, I have nothing personal against Detroit save hearing about them ad nauseum via my cantankerous and oft negligent colleague Mr. Allen Krause; but that doesn't affect my judgment.  I simply report the facts, interpreted in my own special way.

And that special way offers this declaration: the Tigers are in for a world of hurt in 2010.

But shhhh.  Don't tell Al.  Or Johnny Damon. Or Detroiters, all three or four of them who remain.

And whatever you do, please don't hate me 'cuz I'm right.

Peace,

Jeff

PS. If you think I offer something like this just to p!ss off RSBS' other half, then you are absolutely correct... and almost as diabolically undercutting as I.

*fist bump*

The Filibuster

Hey guys! This offseason left a lot of older free agents without work. Jermaine Dye still doesn't have a job.  Joe Crede, Hank Blalock and many others still don't have jobs either. Would you blame this on the poor economy or do you think there's a stronger emphasis on youth in today's game? Nice to see the Filibuster come back!

Jared K.
Wentzville, MO
____________________________________

Jermaine Dye doesn't have a job?  Neither does Joe Crede or Hank Blalock?  You know what I have to say to that?  La di freakin' da.  Who cares?  If they were worth anything, they'd have found a new team.  Cream always rises to the top and since they haven't been skimmed off, well, I guess that tells all you need to know about them.

You want to hear about tragedy, I'll give you tragedy.  Somehow RSBS is still not getting paid.  Yeah, the adoration of millions is nice and all but where's the money?  However, even that's nothing compared to the picture I'm about to paint for you.

Imagine a man, a man who has one thing in the world he truly loves.  And now imagine what happens to this man when that one thing is torn away from him.  Not only does this rending cause physical and psychological torture beyond all understanding, it also fundamentally alters the core of his being. 

Yes, I'm talking about the fact that Jim Leyland will not be allowed to smoke at Comerica Park.

Trust me, Jared, I'm as horrified at the thought as you are.  Leyland without a cigarette is like a Frenchman without a beret.  Exactly.  It boggles the mind.  It's inconceivable.  It's ludicrous.

Joe Crede without a job?  That's just natural selection.  Good luck in baseball's Darwinian afterlife, my friend.  Maybe you can do like Elway and open a car lot.

-A

***SEND US YOUR FILIBUSTERS****

Something on your mind?  Want to see Jeff and Al sweat (separately, not together, eww)?  Think you got a real stumper?  Send us your Filibuster question(s) by commenting or emailing them to us at kraulung@gmail.com. 

***Your snarky comments regarding Elway in pleats also welcome.

Rick Ankiel: This Man Cannot Be Serious

If I were stranded on a remote island ten years ago and I just now got back to see Rick Ankiel is playing center field for the Kansas City Royals, I would be thoroughly confused.  We all know what a tremendous story Rick Ankiel's career has been up to this point.  So let me be clear: as a Cardinals fan, I fully support Ricky and thank him for all he did in a Cards uniform.  I wish him the best of luck.

Yet I cannot help but believe all those concussions did a smidgen more than some serious damage to his psyche.

In his welcoming press conference with the Royals last week, Ankiel mentioned that part of why he wanted to come to Kansas City was because he 'liked the direction' the team was going.

That's horse$hit.

And we all know it.

The truth is: Rick Ankiel is happy to be with the Royals because he has a job now when it looked like he might not.  I can't blame the guy.  I would do the exact same thing... which may or may not include my liking 'the direction' of the team.

Because, let's face it: this team ain't goin' anywhere. 

Again.

Scott Podsednik.  Jason Kendall.  Billy Butler.  Kyle Farnsworth. 

These names do not a champion make.

I think the best summary of the Kansas Royals' direction, under the keen eye of GM Dayton Moore, is represented by a technical glitch which provided wonderment during the press conference.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the Kansas City Royals: Team of Infinite Regress:

Hate me 'cuz I hurt feelings, just don't hate me 'cuz I'm right.

Peace,

Jeff

- - -

Tune in Monday and Tuesday of this week. Ninemen's Morris is baaaaaaaaaaaaack...

RSBS Investigates: Brett Myers

Dear readers, I present to you photographic evidence that new Houston Astros pitcher, Brett Myers (right), does take the occasional break from beating his wife, Kim (left).  The happy couple is seen here, in the Astros' clubhouse, during the press conference which welcomed the domestic abuser to the team earlier this month.

There are no obvious or visible lacerations on Kim's face, so we are fairly certain that the transition from Philadelphia to Houston was a smooth one for the Myers family.

Though a closer look at this picture does cause alarm for the fairer Myers.  For she somehow allowed her husband to wear a black suit with brown shoes, which if discovered by the loud-mouthed hurler, may spell Kim's certain extinction.

Hopefully, Brett's inner idiocy will save us all from such a devastating circumstance.

Hate me 'cuz I color coordinate, just don't hate me 'cuz I'm right.

Peace,

Jeff

(Image courtesy of Astros' writer Alyson Footer's Twitter Page; you can read her blog *here*)

Albert in Blue

As Jeff pointed out yesterday, the signing of Matt Holliday does not mean that the Cardinals have lost sight of Pujols and his impending contract year. If anything, it shows that they are clearing the air and setting up a supporting cast so they can make sure he stays put. However, I'd like to see something else happen.

See, at this moment in time the Tigers are also clearing out contracts. Granderson and Polanco are gone and despite the money they have tied up in some pretty mediocre pitching, the Tigers will have some wiggle room in 2011.

How perfect would it be if on the five year anniversary of the Cardinals beating the Tigers in the World Series, the Tigers could return the favor in pulling off the coup of the (admittedly brand new) decade by landing Pujols?

Now, I'm not saying it's probable. I'm not even really saying it's possible. I just think the idea of Pujols with an old English "D" on his chest is magical. And the thought of Jeff's lurid fantasies about Albert also involving a navy blue hat with a big white "D" on it makes me smile.

Happy Friday!

-A

Matt Holliday, Meet Ma$e

A long time ago, in a popped culture far, far away (let's call it the late '90s), there was a "talented" young fella by the name of Ma$e tearing up the hip-hop scene with sub-par sleight of hand wit and a mouthful of mushy homonyms.

You may remember him (probably not) for bringing us this gem:

Broken glass everywhere
if it ain't about the money, Puff, I just don't care
I'm that Goodfella fly guy, sometimes wiseguys
Spend time in H-A-W-A-I-I
(Mase can you please stop smoking lah lah?)
Puff why try? I'm a thug, I'ma die high
I be out in Jersey, puffin Hershey
Brothers ain't worthy to rock my derby
Though I'm never drugged, I'm the venom in the club

And now he's just venom in our memory banks.  But why?  Let's take a look:

Ma$e's main talent was convincing people that he had talent.  I believed it.  Sean Combs believed it.  The general public believed it.  In fact, there was a time when you couldn't go anywhere without hearing a Ma$e tune.  Had he the vision to keep that reality in perspective, to join powers with the then still venerable Puff Daddy, we might be talking about Ma$e as a musical superpower right now!

But we're not.

Because Ma$e went to Ma$e's head and at his highest of high points, Ma$e left the one label that could make him an internationally hyped megastar.  No one would take him on.  He floundered.  Then he disappeared all together.  He decided to do something different...

...by becoming a preacher?

Yep.  At least, that's the story we got.

A few years (and lots of bounced checks) later, Ma$e came crying back to the rap game... hands open, knees scarred, willing to accept any deal he could get... anything... he was signed by SRC Records.

But the problem with SRC Records was this: they couldn't release his music because Ma$e was still contractually obligated to -- yep, you guessed it -- Sean "Puff Daddy/P-Diddy" Combs.

The moral of the story? 

Ma$e is an idiot.

Matt Holliday, you're not far behind. 

Don't hate me 'cuz I'm right.

Peace,

Jeff

**UPDATE**

Since writing this, Matt Holliday has agreed to a 7 year deal with the Cardinals for $120 million. That's mo' money, mo' problems... but probably worth it. Good for you, Matt!

New Year, Same sCrUBS

Some of the names may have changed, but the bad contracts continue to pile up.  The Chicago Cubs off-season moves have made the Cardinals a much better team than the Cardinals could have made themselves; and the Cards haven't done... well, anything really.

But watching the Cubs destroy themselves is nothing new.

And when trying to reassert my anti-Cubs passion during the long winter, I got an early charge from this recent Marlon Byrd signing.  Huzzah!  Hey, Chicago, whadya say?  The Cubs are gonna overpay for a centerfielder today!

And a right fielder (Fukudome)...and a left fielder (Soriano)...

Didn't y'all learn anything about immediately signing a guy from Texas coming off a career year?  Nah.  Nevermind.

The Prince of New York paints a nice, self-destructive picture of the Cubs organization hinged on that Byrd deal; meanwhile, I'm beginning to believe Jim Hendry is employing the James Cameron school of thought by throwing a ton of money at something that is fundamentally underdeveloped, hoping it will be a hit (or be able to hit... a breaking ball, in particular, if you're Alfonso Soriano).

The difference is: James Cameron threw a lot of money at some stuff that actually looks cool even if the story is sorta lacking.  I mean, I didn't love Avatar, but I was certainly entertained by it.  One can't say the same for what lines up to be another epic bust of a season for the sCrUBBIE dubbies. 

It's 2010.

And Jesus hates them. 

Still.

Don't hate me, 'cuz I'm right.

Peace,

Jeff

Merry Hanukkha, Happy Christmas... and All That

The RSBS interns are off playing with their tax-payer purchased stocking stuffers (hookers presumably), the hot stove has cooled to a Holliday simmer (would ya just make up your friggin' mind) and sleigh bells are ring-ring-jinglin' like the fat pockets of China's national treasury...

So, my uber-nefarious colleague Mr. Krause and I would like to wish you and your loved ones a very happy holiday -- whatever that means to you.

To me, it means once again pondering that age old question: Is the universe expanding?  Or contracting?

Okay, so that's two questions.

In any case, it's beer thirty... for at least 48 hours in a row, so Al and I are gonna carpe diem by taking a couple days off.  Hopefully when we get back we'll both have some great holiday stories to share that don't involve waking up with no shoes under an overpass five miles off the Vegas strip with 35 cents in my pocket, a raging headache, blurred vision and a My Little Pony tattoo on my inner thigh.

Happy Holidays!

Jeff & Allen

Hey Pittsburgh, India Worked for Jingle Bells

No offense, Buccos, but Akinori Iwamura (as decent a middle infielder as he is) isn't quite the fella you build a franchise around.  Octavio Dotel?  Please.  And while the Yankees and Red Sox use their loud coin purses to court free agent princes yearning for a shot at a crown, the lowly Pirates do... well, they do nothing.

Chris Bootcheck, Vinnie Chulk, Tyler Yates...

Uh, okay. 

So, I know it's early and all, but if I were self-loathing enough to be a Pirates fan, I'd at least want to know that there will be something interesting to see at the ballpark in 2010 -- an aged veteran past his prime... a blockbuster trade for a superstar player... those two Indian dudes named Rinku and Dinesh.

Yes, I think I'd take the two Indian dudes.

Because if Indian culture can do half as much for the Pittsburgh Pirates as it did for Jingle Bells, then the Steelers and Penguins better move on over, 'cuz Title Town just became Pittsburghgoa.

Jeen-guh-luh-bale-HEY!



Hate me 'cuz you got that song stuck in your head now, just don't hate me 'cuz I'm right.

Peace,

Jeff

(Vid link from BuzzFeed)