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Three Diamondbacks were injured last night

Mar 27, 2013, 8:46 AM EST

Emergency Room

Is spring training over yet? I’m assuming the Diamondbacks wish it was. For they lost three more players to injury in last night’s meaningless game.

First, second baseman Aaron Hill was hit on the left little finger with a Jered Weaver pitch in the first inning. Then outfielder Jason Kubel rolled his left ankle a bit coming out of the batter’s box in the second, and finally, shortstop Willie Bloomquist strained his right oblique muscle while swinging at a pitch in the third.

Hill seems OK and won’t miss time. Kubel is day-to-day. Bloomquist will have an MRI today but is pretty sure that he’s going to miss Opening Day.

Spring training always seems to last a week or two too long. This year, because of the WBC, it actually was a week or two too long.  Enough: let’s get some players injured in games that mattered rather than in games that don’t.

  1. proudlycanadian - Mar 27, 2013 at 8:54 AM

    Snake bitten?

    • heyblueyoustink - Mar 27, 2013 at 8:57 AM

      Red on black, friend of Jack?

      • paperlions - Mar 27, 2013 at 9:52 AM

        Note: that only work on north american coral snakes, that rule doesn’t apply to the south american counterparts.

      • Old Gator - Mar 27, 2013 at 10:16 AM

        True. Our little pals in the genus Micrurus are wonderfully diverse in shape, size and coloration. Some of them don’t even look like “our” coral snakes. In South America, and especially in the Andean states, they’re all over the place. I think the third week of Cunegonde is usually set aside in former Inca vassal states as “Be Kind to Elapids Week.”

        However, that’s not to discount how pretty ours are. Red and yellow, kill a fellow. Just be sure before you bring that shovel down on its head. Scarlet kingsnakes are protected and you gonna get yourself a nasty fine for killing one.

      • Old Gator - Mar 27, 2013 at 10:19 AM

        PS – Friendo never cared much for elapids, but he’s pretty politically correct for a pit viper and goes out of his way to be friendly to them when they come to loggerheads over a mouse or lizard.

      • heyblueyoustink - Mar 27, 2013 at 11:06 AM

        I know I know, it was just the first thing that came to mind. Most of my vast hiking and camping experience has been the Northeast US and Southeast Canada.

        I wouldn’t use that rule on snakes anywhere else.

        As far as South America goes, army ants all day and night. Not as big as the Siafu, still unexpectedly frightful.

      • Old Gator - Mar 27, 2013 at 11:51 AM

        And don’t forget marabunta.

        Great moments in cinema: Charlton Heston telling his parrot “Shut up!” in The Naked Jungle.

        Of course, you now have to go find and read (or re-read) “Leiningen versus the Ants” by Carl Stephenson, the classic short story upon which all driver ant stories (including The Naked Jungle) are based. I re-read it recently – a few months back, I think – in a truly beat-up old book held together with sedimentary layers of scotch tape I’ve owned since I was an adolescent; it also contains “The Most Dangerous Game” by Richard Connell, another alltime classic.

        You know what I really love about army ants? They have no eyes – it’s all done by electric impulses and scents. And yet when they attack a larger animal, they always go right for its eyes first to help bring it down. Isn’t that great? They know of the eye, sir – of how it perverts their supreme discipline into a mere swarming! And their first order of business is always to rectify this flaw in their daily bread.

        Nature is wonderful.

        Baseball is better.

      • heyblueyoustink - Mar 27, 2013 at 12:37 PM

        I got to see,k a long time ago, pretty nifty audio/video of the siafu and learned the geenral rule: when you are in the jungle and no longer hear nor see any animals or birds, you are in siafu territory, and you had better get moving.

  2. jarathen - Mar 27, 2013 at 8:55 AM

    Getting injured is the full actualization of grit.

    • heyblueyoustink - Mar 27, 2013 at 8:58 AM

      Finally, a grit sabermetric.

      • El Bravo - Mar 27, 2013 at 11:10 AM

        What’s their G.A.R. (Grit Above Replacement)??

      • spudchukar - Mar 27, 2013 at 11:51 AM

        More common known as their “True Grit”.

      • Old Gator - Mar 27, 2013 at 11:56 AM

        …and we are back to snakes again. Nyuknyuknyuknyuk.

  3. dluxxx - Mar 27, 2013 at 9:06 AM

    Kubel has had some ankel injuries in the past (among other things). I remember him hurting his ankle a few times with the Twins. Hate to see it, though. He was one of my favorites.

    I’ve got a fever and the only perscription….. is more Kubel!

  4. ptfu - Mar 27, 2013 at 9:46 AM

    Both the Dbacks and the Padres have had a ton of injuries already. The NL West Race for Third™ may be decided by scrap heap journeymen on both sides.

    Dag nab it, that plays right into the gritty Dback narrative. Sigh.

    • chill1184 - Mar 27, 2013 at 10:29 AM

      Never ever underestimate the grit factor

      • Old Gator - Mar 27, 2013 at 11:56 AM

        So my parakeet was saying the other day.

  5. Old Gator - Mar 27, 2013 at 10:38 AM

    Time out.

    We spend all of January and the first two thirds of February moaning and whining and whinging and pining for pitchers and catchers – and now, with less than a week to go, we’re bellyaching that spring training is too long?

    And who, pray tell, decides whether a game is “meaningless” or not? Look, let me offer a Frazerian analysis of why this period of baseball “means,” and will continue to mean, until corporatism finally corrodes and destroys everything about the game that we love. We’re not there yet, fortunately – though I feel sorry for my grandchildren – but hey, it’s the great cycle of life we’re talking about here. Death and decay and inseparable from it. At the beginning of spring training, the implicit celebration of the return of the dying and resurrected god of spring, of rebirth and regeneration, lends “meaning” to the mindless displays of throw the ball, catch the ball, hit the ball that go on prior to the first intrasquad and then interteam games. For most of the rest of spring training, it’s the symbolic selection of the sacrificial victims and the emergence of the mythic hero, preparing for his hero-journey in all of its stages. Slowly but surely the too young, the too inept, the too old, the washed out and burned out, fall by the wayside and are sent to the minor league holding pens or the career abattoirs of journeyman free agency. Pathos abounds, and this, too, lends “meaning” to the proceedings. Opening day, with its major league minimum contracts and bloated multiyear deals alike, begins to crystallize out of the miasma of strains, sprains, dragons slain and surprise urine tests. After the last cuts are made by the dread bladed pendulum of the forty man roster, and then the bloody obsidian hatchet of the final heart sacrifices leading to the hardening of the twenty five man roster, the few remaining games are consecrated – yes, I said consecrated – by that last spate of spring training injuries that cuts down the young and hopeful and gray and jaded alike with the shimmering vision of opening day just in sight. This is meaningless? I don’t think so. This is the pure essence of myth, of Attic tragedy unfolding before us, to the strophes of impatient bloggers and major media reporters and feature writers whose expense accounts will obviate the transition from two fifty to six dollar hot dogs.

    I would also point out, however, that for teams like the Feesh and Astros, among others, there really is nothing to imbue the coming season with that special rhythmical hope in the attainment of Olympus by the third week of October. They’re going nowhere, and their little personal dramas will play out within the cycle of “play myself the hell out of this dump if I can.” A trade to a contender before the waiverless days have fled to the other side of the sun is about as big a prize as they can hope for. And the fans? For those of us in small or desecrated markets, there’s no difference between a good flan and a bad flan, you know?

    • proudlycanadian - Mar 27, 2013 at 10:41 AM

      Amen!

    • spudchukar - Mar 27, 2013 at 11:06 AM

      When the Bough breaks, the Cradle will fall…

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