Red State Blue State

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*)

Tricks vs. Illusions

Do you hear that scratching? No, it's not the mice building a warm nest under your floor. It's not the dog trying to get rid of those annoying fleas. It's not even your roommate doing only god knows what while watching the NFL playoffs.

That scratching sound is various agents and GM's tearing apart and reassembling contracts in order to steal your favorite players away and make that new jersey you bought last season immediately irrelevant.

However, I hope that you won't think ill of these players and curse them for being the wh0res that they are. Remember, like our friend GOB (pronounced Jobe) Bluth told us, they're really just illusions. Even if they really do seem like tricks.

-A

Credit:
-Photo via Skull Swap

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

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)

Dan "The Sac" Plesac on Darren Oliver = WIN

No, no, no.  Not on him, sicko.  I mean, Dan Plesac talking about Darren Oliver and his new job equals WIN (how's my hip internet lingo? pretty good? is this thing on?).

Dear readers galore already know that if I'm in front of a television, I'm in front of the MLB Network.  And after news broke of journeyman southpaw Darren Oliver signing with the Texas Rangers, the Network crew went to work on the analysis.

Most of the guys were scratching their heads at this move but nobody quite summed it up as adroitly as "The Sac":

"Darren Oliver... I like this move... is he a great starting pitcher?  No.  Is he a great reliever?  No.  But I like what they're doing..."

Thank you, Dan Plesac.

You... are... AWEsome.  Like, y'know, you're full of some awe. 

And I ain't kiddin'. 

Which just proves my longstanding point that you can take Darren Oliver out of the Texas Rangers, but ya can't take the Texas Ranger out of Darren Oliver.

And that is on the internets so it is fact.  Therefore, don't hate me.  'Cuz I'm right.

Peace,

Jeff

The Re-Edumacation of US America!

Technocracy is AWEsome. 

Isn't it?

I think so.

In just the last few days we have learned things -- almost instantly -- that used to take weeks to find out about, back in the old days, when Kevin Costner was delivering the mail.

Thanks to the internets and interwebs, I knew exactly the moment Tony LaRussa and Dave Duncan added "man-child disciplinarian" to each of their respective job titles.  Not long after, I also found out -- immediately -- that Rod Blagojevich still thinks he's funny, that he views his federal scoff as but a minor annoyance, that his hair is cool.

It ain't.

And of course, without our trusty series of tubes cranking out raunchy photos and seedy voice mails, how else would we know that Tiger Woods enjoys having sex --  LOTS OF SEX -- with people who are not his wife?

This is the re-edumacation of US America, people!

Ya gotta be fast.  Ya gotta be on point.  Ya gotta reinvent math!

Thank you, Fox News, for taking the proper initiative, for getting it right, for setting the proverbial politico pundit record straight.

Or is it 'strait'?

Yeah, it's strait.  See, I got this!

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

Peace,

Jeff

(Images & Fox News Story from BuzzFeed)

A Call for a Ban on Crappy Nicknames

Oh jeez. 

In 2005, the St. Louis Cardinals called up a 27 year-old lifetime minor leauger to get his first hacks at the big league level.  That man's name was John Rodriguez.

Don't remember him?  No worries.  Most people don't.

Mr. Rodriguez came on pretty strong during his brief glimpse of the Majors, hitting .295 with 5 HRs and 24 RBI in 149 at-bats.  The folks in St. Louis liked him and his cinderella story so much that someone decided to grace Mr. Rodriguez with the nickname: J-Rod (a la A-Rod, K-Rod, YourMom-Rod, et al).

J-Rod *ahem* wasn't a fan of the name.  Why?  Maybe because he wasn't A-Rod!  To be honest, he wasn't anywhere close to being an A-Rod type player.  His greatest downfall was was being born with the same easily nicknameable name as poster boy Alex while also having a first initial that contained just one syllable (you see, W-Rod would never work).

Flash forward to December 7th, 2009 and my trusty misanthrope of a colleague, Mr. Allen Krause, deigns us with the phonetically challenged nickname "Pla-Po" for his beloved (and now long gone from Detroit) Placido Polanco.

Pla-Po?  Are you kidding me?  How is that even pronounced?  PLAY-Poh?  Plah-POH?  Ah, forget it; all I know is that it sucks.

So, please know, Mr. Krause, that from now on we are calling for a complete ban on poorly constructed nicknames, specifically on those you created.  For those of you dear readers unaware, the following Krausian nicknames shall no longer be used, under any circumstances, lest you wish the worst on the baseball-politico community:

• Matt Holliday --                   Ma-Ho
• Barack & Michelle Obama -- Bachelle
• Albert Pujols --                    A-Jols (read "A-Holes")
• Dick Cheney --                     Dick-Chin
• Pablo Sandoval --                 P-Sand
• Harry Reid & Nancy Pelosi -- Harry Nancy
  
• Carlisle Littlejohn --             C-Lit
• Michael Cuddyer --               Mi-Cudd
• Ann Coulter --                     'Lil Beotch (it should be "Big Beotch")
• Kevin Youkilis --                   K.Y. Kill-Us

And of course, let us not forget to mention the ongoing ban against one of the crappiest nicknames of all time, also penned by Mr. Krause, for his dilapidated Mo-Town Tigers team:

Winners.

'Cuz unless finishing the AL Central in second place qualifies you as a 'winner', then this just needs to stop.

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

Peace,

Jeff

Winter Meetings: Ante the Hell Up Y'All

Major League suits are set to invade US America's baseball-less Indianapolis this week... and they all have one singular goal: move that paper.

For those of you dear readers who respond better to visual metaphors, here's one for ya: John Mozeliak (Ernie), Kermit (Peter Gammons), Cashman and Epstein (the Yip-Yips), and many more are all gittin' down to ante up:

*Strong language may not be suitable for children unless your kids are related to Busta Rhymes in which case this type of language is as common around the house as naked women and blunts for breakfast*



It's true.

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

Peace,

Jeff