Comments on: And That Happened: Sunday's Scores and Highlights

By: JRH17

JRH17 — Tue, 13 Apr 2010 12:40:16 +0000

Your allusion to the Princess Bride in the Indians recap was priceless. Well done.

By: Old Gator

Old Gator — Mon, 12 Apr 2010 17:41:12 +0000

As I’ve said before, I’m impressed by your enthusiasm. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to subvert it, except to the extent that you wax hyperbolic about their chances in a league with two solid teams that are demonstrably better, one that’s a tossup and only one demonstrably worse. I’ve met Scrooge McLoria too, on several occasions, and like any successful businessman he’s an accomplished gladhander. I was also sitting about three rows behind his field box when J. T. Snow crashed into Pudge at home plate with the force of the K/T meteorite and the look on his face when Pudge’s hand shot up still clutching that ball was pure, childlike ecstasy. I suppose the look on mine must have been pretty similar.
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But, not to put too fine a point on it, so what? Last week when team profitability rankings were published, guess who was sitting pretty on top of the heap? The Brahmins of the Bronx with their dedicated Borg network? Nope. The oil magnates from Tejas? Nope. Well, perhaps then some big market team from the West Coast or…nope. It was none other than Mr. Market Adjustment himself, the nappy little planarian who admirals the Feesh, Scrooge McLoria. You don’t seem to want to come to terms with how impecuniously your boy Scrooge, with more disposable income at his command than the freaking Steinbrenners, has nickled and dimed this franchise into steady-state mediocrity. Just imagine where they would have finished last year with a decent reliever on the staff. I can’t recall the exact number of games they blew last year when leading as late as the seventh inning but if they hold maybe a third of those blown leads they’re in the playoffs. I don’t give McLoria and the Chihuahua credit for what might have been, and neither should you. Fact is, it wasn’t.
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Now if you want to go ahead and blame the local fans for failing to get enthusiastic about being pissed on from on high while most other teams are out there making the investments they need to make to get over the top, while Scrooge McLoria needs the union holding a gun to his head to dig up his treasure chest and cough up a few doubloons to the guys who have long since earned them, be my guest. I plan to continue rooting for these guys but, with the exception of my ritual opening day appearance, not to the extent of helping to fill Scrooge’s ermine-lined pockets for him. I won’t be going to bed anytime soon riddled with guilt about it, either.
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One last point: I don’t tell you how or what to write. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t come on here behaving as though you had the right to tell me how. If you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m likely to ignore it anyway.

By: Charles Gates

Charles Gates — Mon, 12 Apr 2010 16:00:16 +0000

I'm honored, yet admittedly scared, slightly so, as in I wonder what else I've inspired you to think about.
Ok, so I can see how 'prawn' works. You've just got to figure out how that pesky R got stuck in the middle. Sans R, Scrooge McLoria has the same label for 'em.
The interweb information god, read: Wikipedia, says this about one of my favorite little appetizers, 'Unlike almost all other decapods, prawns do not brood their eggs on the pleopods, but release the eggs into the water after fertilization.' I'm confident you have the stronger ability to turn that little info-nugget into a better baseball metaphor than I.
Of course, minus the different gill structure relative to shrimp, which I have great recipes for both the steamed and bbq-grilled variety, Prawn seems to lend itself well to a good roll call, Bubba from Forrest Gump styled, for all of the different types of Feesh fans in the sea.

By: jimmy marlins fan

jimmy marlins fan — Mon, 12 Apr 2010 15:24:30 +0000

old gator, ive been a die hard since 91…my enthusiam for my baseball shall never want or grow old as to me, baseball is the ultimate kids game, played by men, who are paid like gods
i dont mind your reference to baseball that lie outside the game…in fact i rather enjoy looking outside the box of normality to describe the past time of america
but i loathe seeing “feesh”…fair enough? i loathe seeing scrooge mcloria as ive met the man and he was very kind and thoughtful and gave a good handshake(for whatever that is worth)…point being…mr loria is no better or worse than any other owner in baseball so i just wish that everyone would lay off the man
ps…3 outta 4 from the red stockings and we are certified off to a good start despite some glaring holes…i feel getting brian sanches back soon will help the pen mightily

By: Old Gator

Old Gator — Mon, 12 Apr 2010 14:41:27 +0000

You know what, Charles? You've inspired me today. Wikus turning into a prawn. We've needed a term to describe Feesh fans - and I think we've got it. Prawns, you know, like Rush's Dittoheads and Jim Rome's Clones. Okay, I need to find a chain of overlapping metaphors that lead us naturally from the existential condition of being a Feesh fan, with all that entails, to....Prawn. I've got a research trip to the archives of western American literature at Texas State University coming up this week. I'll just take along some Kobo Abe short stories and the mix should do it. . Jimmy, if you find yourself being referred to as a Prawn henceforth, don't take it personally. I promise you, first of all, that I'll have an illogical justification for it, the term will be suffused with the compassion of the Tathagata's very tears, and rooting for the Feesh virtually guarantees that you won't be herded into an overcrowded environment like District Nine.

By: APBA Guy

APBA Guy — Mon, 12 Apr 2010 13:35:21 +0000

Craig, no love for the A’s in first? You have to note such things, since it won’t last.
Shockingly,, the A’s took two of three from the Angels this weekend, who can normally be relied upon to spank the A’s like the entertainment at a Republican donor night out.
Both wins were manifestations of Beane-vision, the ability to dream and make it so. Friday’s game was the best example, with the A’s hammering emergency Angel’s starter Matt Palmer (in for the again injured Scott Kazmir).
But the real shocker was the depleted Angels iffy play: the outfield has no range in the corners (Abreu and Rivera)and defensively second and third look, shall we say, unsettled. Indeed since signing Abreu to a two-year extension he seems to have celebrated by moving in with Ben & Jerry. He can still hit an average fastball at or above his ample waist. But anything hard and low is more than a challenge.
The Angel’s once celebrated bullpen is , ahem, still finding it’s footing. Jason Bulger did his best imitation of Jason Motte by throwing the same pitch over and over to the same hitter with the same result: home run, in this case by Chad Pennington.
The A’s held the Angels to 4,4,and 4 runs while scoring 10, 3, and 9. Both A’s losses this year are Ben Sheets starts, meaning he can’t yet match form with the opposition #1 starter, but the A’s are doing well against 2-5. Although for how long is anyone’s guess.
The Angels have issues. Getting Kazmir back will be big, but Piniero in the AL is not the same as Piniero in the NL, even in the AL West. ANd he was never John Lackey. Matsui is doing well, certainly hitting th eball harder than Vlad did last year. But their bullpen might require Old Gator to truly describe their futility.
The biggest problem is the outfield defense. Torii Hunter can’t play foul-line to foul-line, even though he tries. If they are only going to score 4 runs a game, they have to do a better job holding the opposition. The wins will begin to accumulate once Morales starts hitting, but I’m not sure the pace of winning will match what we’ve come to expect. With Texas moving Feliz to closer (they’d be 5-1 with efficient 9th inning work), they look like the favorites in the West.
The A’s are on the road in Seattle for their next 3. Seattle is 26th with a .612 OPS and will face Duke, Brett Anderson, and Gio Gonzalez. They face Rowland-Smith, Fister, and Vargas, or Larry, Mo and Curly, unless you’re sensitive about insulting Curly. The A’s could win this series also, and come out of Seattle 7-3. Amazing.

By: Craig Calcaterra

Craig Calcaterra — Mon, 12 Apr 2010 13:04:31 +0000

I’m not suggesting that we change ERA. Just that we lean less on it as an evaluation of a pitcher than we do now. If a pitcher is a bad defender (not saying Halladay is, just generally speaking), it will impact his overall value and that’s not captured in ERA.

By: Jeff

Jeff — Mon, 12 Apr 2010 13:00:31 +0000

People look at ERA as a pitching stat, not a combined personal responsibility stat. Charging a pitcher for runs caused by his own fielding error would corrupt the stat. He already gets charged an error, same as any other fielder. Leave it at that.

By: Tom in Newark

Tom in Newark — Mon, 12 Apr 2010 12:48:04 +0000

the unearned run Halladay gave up was unearned because of his own damn error shows you just how ridiculous the earned/unearned rules are. In a fair and just world Halladay and any other pitcher who does that should be charged with the run.
Craig, there is a gaping hole in your argument – Earned Runs are a pitching stastic, period. How one fields has no bearing on ERA, nor should it. If we use your logic, it’s a slippery slope to handing out earned runs for unbelievable catches made in the outfield, or base running blunders. While we are at, Ryan Howard is hot….why should opposing picthers be penalized for facing him right now? Lets give 1/2 an earned run on each homer he hits.
Halladay made a bone headed fielding play? Then knock him down points for the Gold Glove award.

By: Old Gator

Old Gator — Mon, 12 Apr 2010 12:42:18 +0000

Hope you checked 'em for Pfiesteria first, or you wind up turning slowly into a dinoflagellant like Wikus into a prawn in District Nine. Anyway, stone crab season still has a month to go, and it's time to change the carborundum spike on my crab hammer again. These, we eat with mustard sauce. But I'll still take the garlic but...er, garlic Smart Balance sauce on the blues. At least I know if I check my blood pressure after a meal of that stuff, I won't be redlining.

By: Charles Gates

Charles Gates — Mon, 12 Apr 2010 12:34:41 +0000

Guy Noir: gone downhill faster than the Feesh’s chance of winning after the cowpen enters the game in relief? Or only began funny because the first time I heard A Prairie Home Companion I was much younger, and without my developed sense of taste? (Or, the last few times I’ve caught the show on the radio, Mr. Kellior literally broke a leg upon entering the stage).
Speaking of good taste, split my first dozen Old Bay covered Maryland blue crabs last weekend with the Finance. Still can’t figure eating those delicious rats-o’-the-sea in garlic and oil a la vodka. And, yes, we had a few Bud longnecks to go along with them.
recaptcha: he crusties

By: BC

BC — Mon, 12 Apr 2010 12:22:39 +0000

Mets' new theme song: http://priceisrightlosinghorn.com/

By: BC

BC — Mon, 12 Apr 2010 12:22:01 +0000

Mets' new theme song: http://priceisrightlosinghorn.com/

By: Old Gator

Old Gator — Mon, 12 Apr 2010 12:17:22 +0000

I prefer to think of them as protracted Borgesian ficciones, which a healthy shot of Firesign Theater. Apparently, these were before Jimmy’s time, but if he remains as enthusiastic about the Feesh as he is now, he will grow old in a hurry.
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Incidentally, Mo and Charles, if you guys are lurking out there anyplace, here’s something funny I only recently found out: just before the four mad geniuses who formed The Firesign Theater so designated themselves, they collaborated on a radio play for NPR based on Borges’ “La muerte y la brujula.” I’m now going back systematically through the fab quaternity’s albums “re-reading” them in Borgesian terms. I plan to deliver an extensive analysis based on this odd little exercise next year at the Association for Popular Culture’s annual convention in San Antonio. Should be a hoot; at the very least it will give me constructive to do during the offseason when everyone else around here has retreated into the twilight zone of Firepit Baseball.

By: YankeesfanLen

YankeesfanLen — Mon, 12 Apr 2010 11:23:12 +0000

They’re not “small novels”, Jimmy, they’re modern O. Henry short stories about baseball.
We have fun around here, even with the Captcha: the leotards. This must not pertain to CC Sabathia

By: jimmy marlins fan

jimmy marlins fan — Mon, 12 Apr 2010 10:49:34 +0000

old gator, you are way to hard on loria and please stop referrng to the team as the “feesh” it makes your small novels a struggle to get through

By: Old Gator

Old Gator — Mon, 12 Apr 2010 10:18:31 +0000

That cockamamie business trip that took you out of the action all weekend cost you a look at the nice steady dwindling of the Feesh audience – the second day’s announcement of 25,000-plus was counting ghosts of absent season ticket holders again after a middling large bunch on Friday got to watch the bullpen in all its funk and gory. Yesterday, a training drizzle – the real late spring rains don’t start for a couple more weeks – and the usual lack of novelty value looked like it had reduced the crowd to a standard weekend non-Borg or Mutts size, with vast arcs of orange visible above the outfield. Ah well. On paper it says the Feesh took two games to the Bums’ one but you had to watch the arson squad doing its best to hand back each game. I don’t know if they’re already compiling statistics about whose staff has issued the most walks but we’ve gotta be right up there. Later in the season, when the hitters get their footing, it’s going to be even uglier than it was on Friday night if Larry Beinfest doesn’t find us some help, and even Jorge Cantu playing like anew model Tyrrel replicant with turbo boost, as he is now, won’t be enough to carry the team anymore.
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Fortunately, Craig, I take my responsibilities very seriously and have been saving my on-the-scene opening night opus for your return. It’ll be just like being there, except you can get right to the urinals if you need to. Here, ladies of character emeritus and seagrape jellyspoons, is the Feesh opening night mise-en-scene:
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Friday’s lead banner for the newspaper once recognizable as the Miami Herald blurted “Fish Fever!” to announce opening day. One assumes that the pathogens causing Feesh Fever, two closely related parasites classified as Cheapskatus loriansis and C. chihuahuatrophus, are also closely related to the pathogens that cause 24-hour stomach viruses. Subjecting the Feesh payrol to electron microscopy may someday prove or disprove that, but that the etiology of Feesh Fever closely parallels that of the 24-hour “bug” is undeniable: 30,000 fans show up for one night, watch the bullpen turn a brushfire into a bonfire, barf up their beer, go home, feel better the next morning, half as many appear the next day, and then all but maybe 3000 chronic cases
show up again until opening day a year later.
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On a night when rain was predicted but didn’t happen – it’s just a little bit too early in the season for the meteorological festivities to begin – the first (we’re told) five thousand fans received duplicates of the crass diamond studded “.342″ pendant that Scrooge McLoria got made for Hanley Ramirez, who keeps it in his vault rather than be caught dead wearing it. I was probably number 5001, but that’s okay. I was about to help myself to one of Joeprodolsharklife Stadium’s monstrously overpriced superfund sites on a bun and a diet coke priced at the last OPEC meeting in Caracas when I spotted the Hebrew National hot dog cart and paid even more to fertilize my tumor garden for an offal tube as badly colorized as an old movie on Turner Film Classics. Well, there were peanuts – and even Wayne Huizinga’s provisioners couldn’t screw them up too much, although I have always wondered how they got the salt inside the peanut shells. However they do it, I hope the Tylenol Killer never learns their secret.
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The closest thing the Feesh have to a graying eminence, Andre Dawson, threw out the first peetch to some enthusiastic cheers. When the Feesh were introduced and lined up along the first base line, however, the bullpen – especially Renyel Pinto – were showered with boos. I had to look around to be sure that some of the petroleum byproducts in my diet coke or near-molecular cousins of arsenic on the dead cow meat on my bun hadn’t caused me to hallucinate that I was in Feeladelphia with Feelies fans showing off the expended half-lives of their upbringings by booing, say, Mike Schmidt on Old Timer’s Day. But no, I hadn’t fallen through stargate or anything like that. It was just a lot of fed-up Feesh fans letting Scrooge McLoria know what we thought of his pinchpenny bullpen. Arthur C. Clark proposed in Childhood’s End that we all suffer from foreknowledge of the apocalypse in a universe where time is circular, and I suspect, based upon what happened during the late innings of the game, that he might have been right. But let me not get too far ahead of – or maybe behind – myself. We suffered through a typically overblown rendition of the unsingable musical atrocity known as the National Anthumb and then the season, finally, was underway in the turgid air of Macondo.
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The game unfolded as a wonderful pitching duel between Chris Volstad and Kuroda Hiroki-san; the Feesh drew a pinprick of blood in the sixth on a Bum error and then a hit by Jorge Cantu but Volstad kept his shutout intact until Manny, being Manny, rifled a double off Volstad to open the seventh. Then the wheels came off, with Hanley Ramirez reverting to the fielding form that had to be overlooked to award him Rookie of the Year status a few seasons back with his ill-advised attempt to make an off-balance throw to second winding up in right field and allowing two runs to score (see my remarks about ill-advised off balance throws in my commentary on Craig’s season-opening evaluation of the Feesh last week). Volstad was charged with four runs, three earned.
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But the real fun began in the ninth inning when Jose Veras walked Martin to open the inning and Furcal doubled him to third an out later; then the beloved Renyel Pinto came in and served up a fat juicy double to Loney and a bloop single by Manny. So it goes. The Feesh mounted one of their patented almost-comebacks in the ninth and fizzled out with two runners on base. I was listening to this on my car radio at that point because a tsunami of fans had already begun surging towards the parking lot the moment Pinto’s name was announced, and I wanted to try out my new surfboard.
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I’m not sure when the next promotion day is at Joeprodolsharklife Stadium, but I have a great idea for it: the first 1,500 fans (which will be pretty much the entire attendance by that point) should be given teal-colored five gallon plastic gas cans with the Feesh logo on one side and a group portrait of the bullpen arson squad on the other. We’re only a few weeks away from the start of hurricane season and those cans will come in useful for storing generator fuel in the garage.
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Looking ahead to this soggy evening’s fare, courtesy of my relict Reds fan pal from his exile in Spearfish, South Dakota: Just in case you were wondering, from the Reds webpage, this headliner: “Baker not taking Marlins lightly.”

By: James

James — Mon, 12 Apr 2010 09:37:34 +0000

I can’t believe you went to Bobby V’s and didn’t order the Quesedilla Bobby Bonilla!

By: James

James — Mon, 12 Apr 2010 09:34:14 +0000

I can’t believe you went to Booby Vs and didnt order the Quesedilla Bobby Bonilla. It’s worth it just to say it out loud…

By: Josh

Josh — Mon, 12 Apr 2010 09:08:38 +0000

In your Mets recap, aren’t you conveeeeniently forgetting the part where Francouer absolutely HOSED Dunn at home plate with a perfect throw from deep RF? The Nats announcers, well actually just Rob Dibble, were like “Even Francouer’s great arm can’t save this run…” and then he threw Fat Boy out by two steps. I mean, yes, it was Adam Dunn and he isn’t very fast. But wow, what a throw. And Barajas got out of the way and still made the tag!

By: Dignan

Dignan — Mon, 12 Apr 2010 09:04:52 +0000

Referencing both The Princess Bride and Cannonball Run. Wow. This is why I keep coming back.

By: Charles Gates

Charles Gates — Mon, 12 Apr 2010 09:00:06 +0000

Any chance your work related travels take you near Philly the last weekend in June?
he plays like he hasn't slept in four days Weird, I would interpret this as: lethargic. Not like someone who cruches up No-Doz pills, mixes them into a Red Bull, drinks, repeats, then plays baseball. I would think a better description would be, 'He plays like he just woke up from a long nap, felt rested, rejuvenated, and ready to play.'