Jayson Werth explores his new home

The Nats PR department's Twitter account put out a wonderful shot of Nats Park with a dusting of snow on the ground today. It really is quite beautiful, as you can see.


The Nats PR department also mentioned that Jayson Werth would be cruising around the stadium today, getting used to the place he'll be spending 81 games in this upcoming year.

Wait a minute... What's that thing in right field? Is that... Is that Jayson??

ZOOM AND ENHANCE!

Yes, yes it is Jayson. Hey, Jayson... you might want to Febreze® around there while you're at it. You certainly don't want the shitty stink of Cristian Guzman and Willy Tavares hanging around. (I must have completely erased those two playing that position completely from my mind, cause it took baseball-reference to remind me. God bless my brain. It was only trying to protect me.)

The hairy Muppet lands at Nats Park.

UPDATE: While I wrote this post yesterday, I held off on posting it until today... for some reason. Well, overnight Mr. Werth visited the Wizards game and was caught on camera sans beard!!1!! I'm still publishing this post, though, dammit. I'm a lazy dude, and if I spend this much time on something, you have to suffer through it too.
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Well, by now you have all heard about the huge contract given to Jayson Werth so that he can patrol RF in Nats Park for ever two years until Bryce Harper is ready. After that? LF, maybe? Who the hell really knows. All that is known at this point is that Rizzo threw a shit ton of cash at the hairy Muppet, and he'll presumably be playing right in front of me in Section 138. So it is with this post that I say to him, "Hi there! Can't wait to see you patrolling RF, as I've always been impressed by your play there at Nats Park. (Even if it was as a stinkin Phillie.)"

Now, there's only really two questions to be answered... 1) Will he keep the beard, and 2) What number will he wear?
If he does have to lose the beard, as Rizzo sort of hints at here, it'll be hard to adjust to him. I mean, let's face it, dude is one hairy guy. In fact, the top three google image searches for Jayson Werth are these three:



We'll see if Werth can conform to Rizzo's "professionally groomed" rule. (Whatever the hell that means.)

As for number 2, I came across this tidbit in a Ken Rosenthal piece the other day.

"In addition, Werth's contract stipulates that the Nationals award him No. 28, his number with the Phillies."

So, Jayson will get to keep his 28, and Michael Morse will wear... well, some other number. [Update #2: This tweet came out last night and states Michael will wear 38.] The big question is, how did it go down? Well, as it always seems to happen, I was actually there while it was being discussed, and witnessed it all myself! Here's what happened.

When Werth asked for 28, Rizzo hesitated a second to ponder poor Michael. And, at that very moment, Jayson got up and screamed, "This is not negotiable!" and started to walk away from the bargaining table, only for Rizzo to stammer out, "Jayson, wait! Just.. wait. Fuck Michael Morse. 28 is all yours, dammit. In fact, Michael lives right next to this very building that we're negotiating in! Let's go next door to give him the news!"

At that point they went to Morse's house and rang the doorbell. I took a picture to capture the moment...


Michael got all flustered, and said, "I'm calling Mr. Rizzo, dude! You can't just take my number, man!" And then, to his disappointment, Mike Rizzo came out of the shadows and took Jayson's side on the issue...

Sorry Mikey. It looks like Rizzo is 100% behind the beard The Contract®. Maybe you can get Mr. Werth to throw you a dollar or two or eleven million for your sacrifice?

(And, yes, since Werth has shaved the beard, I am know changing my nickname of him from "The Hairy Muppet" to "The Contract®." Feel free to push it on every human being you interact with.)

So long, Adam.

Well, I had this post written up last week, but was working on the crappy ass photoshops, and lost track of time. Next thing you know, the Nats go all BIZZARO on us and throw $126 GOD DAMN million dollars at the hairy muppet Jayson Werth, and this post becomes (kind of) moot.

Screw it, I'm posting this anyway, dammit.

So long, Mr. Dunn. You chose to sign with the Chicago White Sox for 4 years and$56MM. I can't say I blame you, as the Nats never went higher than 3 years and ~$35MM. I know how important that fourth year was for you, and good on you for getting it.

I can't say I'll miss screaming at you for taking the walk over hitting a sacrifice fly, but I will miss your personality. You kept it light, and always, always made it seem like you were having fun. In fact, one of my favorite moments of last year was your waving to Josh Willingham for a job well done after he drove in a run with a single.

Wait... who's that in the corner sticking his head into my gif, dammit? ZOOM AND ENHANCE!

Oh, it's Ryan Zimemrman, who said pretty much everything besides "Let Dunn go, and I'm outtie, bro" to Mike Rizzo this year. I actually had a sit down with Ryan right after Dunn signed with the White Sox and reminded him about Adam's... less than spectacular performance in one area. Nope, not his strikeouts. Nope, not his drop in OBP this year. Nope, not even his fielding. I reminded him about...



"Oh yeah," Ryan said. "I forgot I used to ask him 74 times a game to keep his fucking gum in his fucking mouth. I swear, with all the dirt and insects that stuck to his gum, his mouth was as filthy as Chase Utley."

And no one, I mean NO ONE, likes to be reminded of Chase Utley.

Danny Espinosa, you big lug.

So, Danny Espinosa is playing winter ball in Puerto Rico this year (Cause let's face it, real men play ball ALL. YEAR. LONG.) and happened to have himself a pretty good game last night.The line from the box score?

5 plate appearances. BB, 1B, 2B, 3B, HR, 4 RBI.

Yay, it's the cycle! One of the most random baseball stats around. But don't let its randomness confuse you into thinking it's not pure awesomeness, however, cause it sure as shit is. He hit the HR first, then added the triple, then walked. When he came up to bat for the fourth time, the pitcher was all:

Which was a pretty appropriate reaction, as Espi was raking last night, and hit a double in that at bat, and finished it off with a single in his last plate appearance. That's man style right there. Hit the big balls for the kiddies in case they gotta leave before the game is over. (He's a fucking philanthropist on top of everything else, you know.)

Any-who, Espi rules and his opponents drool. It's getting to be old hat at this point. Be prepared for him to hit .375/.520/.780 next year, folks. And win a Gold Glove. And save a kid from choking on a hot dog in the 7th inning stretch. All in a season's work, ya know?

P.S. In case you were wondering, gingerbread men do not make natural actors. I had that one gingerbread man above try that "scared face" on his own, and it came out worse than Chase Utley trying to act modest. Fakest expression ever. So, I snapped a pic of his regular face, then got the scared shot by giving him some motivation. That motivation was simply to put him in the most terrifying situation the little guy could ever be in:



I almost feel bad for the little man, but nature is nature, and Meat Hook was gonna eat him eventually. Might as well make it a good photo opportunity.

PPS. Danny is playing for the "Leones de Ponce" in the Puerto Rican League. If your Spanish is as horrible as mine, you pronounce it "Leonces day Ponces", which is cool cause it rhymes, and you can pretend all the team names in that league rhyme. And a league of all rhyming named teams makes me smile for some reason.

Collin Balester's moustache is back

If you're not following Collin Balester on Twitter, then you might not know about a cause he's pimping. You see, he's the captain of a team named "Bally's Staches" over at us.movember.com. What exactly is Movember? Well, they have a FAQ here, and best I can tell, it's a charity event aimed at raising money and awareness for cancers that men are faced with. Guys are growing moustaches for the month of November, which is whimsically renamed Movember. All funds raised go to the Prostate Cancer Foundation and LiveStrong. You can donate money directly to Collin, or the team. You can even join Collin's team and raise money yourself, all the while raising the total amount that Bally's Staches' raises.

Folks who read this blog know that I'm not a very serious guy. I write irreverent posts that poke fun at people and myself. I like to make crappy photoshops and stupid videos for the most part. But, here's one fact that blew my mind when I found it out. (Even more-so than when I found out Wil Nieves was still getting paid after Wilson Ramos was called up. Call the cops, it's a robbery! ) If a man lives long enough, he will develop prostate cancer. Autopsy studies have shown that 30% of men in their 50s had prostate cancer, and 80% of men in their 70s had it. So, kudos to Collin for bringing attention to it.

Now that the serious shit is over, I can get to the entire reason for writing this post. (Well, besides the whole cancer bit.) I present to you an awesome gif that I found randomly on the interwebs that I have mangled with my inferior graphic skills. It's entitled "Moustaches Make a Difference."

(For the record, my pictures would show me without a moustache and the label "Generic White Guy", while my with moustache label would be something like "Generic Creepy White guy." (Think David Spade.) I can grow some lip fuzz, but it's pretty thin and very light. That's why, if I need to sport one, I just do the old finger moustache. You look super cool, and build your arm muscles up since you have to hold that position for hours (even days!) on end.)

Oh, if you'd like to see the pictures in the animated gif one by one, you can see them here. You can actually break down any gif that way, if you'd like. (Free tips, folks! GOD DAMN, I'M GENEROUS AND AWESOME!)

So, who has worse fans, Philly or New York?

The behavior of the Philly and New York fans during the playoffs has been hashed, and re-hashed, and then hashed and re-hashed some more already, so I won't go there. Instead, I'll just post these two animated gifs that I put together so they can live in infamy and be used to mock either fan base whenever the opportunity arises. (Plus, I'm lazy, and don't have the time to write out a full blog post. Come on, man, I just got done walking from the vending machine back to my desk. I'm wiped out here.)

The first is this wonderfully wonderful Philly fan responding to a Reds player after the player had the gall to glance at the home plate umpire after a third strike call. He's clearly explaining to the player that his concerns are unwarranted as the umpire's performance is exemplary. Or, he's only past an infant level, mentally, and can still only exude his feelings through monosyllabic words and pantomimes. The first time a Philles fan has the balls to pipe up about anything not going their way, feel free to whip this gif across their face.

And the second comes to us from this Yankees fan who is performing, to the letter, the dictionary definition of the phrase"douche bag." I am so impressed with his respectful attitude and his vocabulary rich rebuttal to the Rangers outfielder's concerns that he interfered with the outfielder's ability to make the play. Then again, he may have a condition where he can only make wild gestures and mumble... I'm no doctor. Feel free to send this gif to a Yankee fan the next time they feel the need to disagree with, well, anything. To repeat a line from one of my tweets last night, "Dear Yankee fans, this is why people hate you."

So, bang up job you're doing, fellas. Keep up the good work spoiling a whole damn bunch. I would hate to not have anyone living down to our low expectations of you.

Phair Weather Phillie Phans

Look... a lot has been written about last night's debacle of an attendance situation (here, here, here, here), but there's one thing in particular that pisses me off. What is it? Shocker, it's the Phillies fans themselves. And I'm not talking about how bad they smell, how bad the behave, how poorly they treat others, or how little respect they display. Nope, I'm talking about how GOD DAMN FAIR WEATHERED those bastards are. It's real funny... you chant "this is our house" last night at Nats Park, when you couldn't have been bothered to support your team just a few years ago. A quick breakdown of the Phillies home and away attendance.

2010 Home - 45,027 (2nd in MLB). Road - 32,422 (4th in MLB)
2009 Home - 44,453 (3rd) Road - 30,760 (13th)
2008 Home - 42,254 (5th) Road - 33,214 (13th)
2007 Home - 38,374 (8th) Road - 32,836 (15th)
2006 Home - 34,200 (11th) Road - 30,596 (18th)
2005 Home - 33,316 (13th) Road - 29,284 (22nd)

Now, what you see is a worse home and away average the farther we go back. Did I mention that the Phillies made the playoffs in from 2007 - 2010? What else happened in 07-10? Their wining percentage went up each year. Hmm.. interesting... more folks attend Phillies game both away, and in Philly, as their record got better. Just for the heck of it, let's check out the Phillies attendance for their last losing record season. They ended the 2002 season at 80-81 (which ain't exactly stinking up the joint). Attendance?

2002 Home - 20,208 (24th in MLB).

Really, Philly fans? Really? Your city can't average more than 20,208 folks a game when you finish 80-81?

So, I wondered how that does in relation to the Nats, with their record being quite a bit worse. Well, so far for 2010, with their record at 67-90, the Nats are still averaging 22,645 folks. Yup, that's more than your city did in 2002 when you finished with 13 more wins. What's that, Philly fans? "But you guys have that new stadium"? Okay, let's go back to the last year in RFK (not the greatest stadium in the world to see a baseball game): 2007. When the Nats finished at 73-89. Still 7 games worse than your Phillies finished in 2002 when you managed to average 20,208 folks, good enough for 24th in MLB. How did the Nats fans measure up?

2007 Nats Home - 22,715 (24th)

Correct. In a shitty ass stadium, while watching some shitty ass baseball, DC still managed to clear more fans than you did even with your better winning percentage. So chant "this is our house" all you want. At least we know that a lot of you were nowhere to be seen when your team was playing break even baseball. Mental note made... When the Phillies are playing .600 ball, though, those fans sure do make it out to the park in droves. Good to know your priorities are where they are - with winning teams only. You're doing a bang up job of defining "front runners" fellas!

Here's to you, Atlanta!

Now, I wasn't lucky enough to attend any of the Nats games down in Atlanta this week, but I did have some friends go down there. They were happy as... well... Nats fans when the team takes two out of three. Which doesn't happen often these days, and it surely wasn't expected against the Braves since they are (were?) in the midst of a playoff showdown with Philly for the top spot in the NL East.

Looking back on it, though, a large breakfast food chain that my friends stopped off at before yesterday's game seemed to know what the outcome was going to be. After all, when my friends walked into this restaurant, they were handed this flyer.


It appears they had a promotion going where if you purchase a meal from Denny's, you got to witness Justin Maxwell LAY DOWN THE LAW.

Hey, Atlanta... Peace out, bitches!

Come get some loving, Danny Espinosa!

I seriously, really, absolutely, genuinely, truly, do not have anything to add about Danny Espinosa's performance yesterday after displaying this line from the box score.

AB R H RBI BB SO LOB AVG

5 2 4 6 0 0 1 .563

Batting.
2B: Espinosa (3. Perez, O)
HR: Espinosa: 2 (3, 3rd inning of Pelfrey, 0 on, 0 out, 6th inning off Igarashi, 3 on, 2 out).
TB: Espinosa 11. <--------- O.o
RBI: Espinosa 6 (10).

So, since I don't have anything worthwhile to add... It's SING ALONG TIME! LOVE YOU, DANNY!

Danny Espiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinosa from Section 138 on Vimeo.

(Photo: Cheryl Nichols, Nationals News Network)

What to Make of Nyjer Morgan's... Antics.

On August 25th word broke Nyjer got a seven game suspension for throwing a ball at a Philly fan. (A suspension for hitting a Philly fan with a ball? Shit, I'd give Nyjer a reward. How about seven dollars? Cause, well, I'm poor. Fuck it, I'll raise that reward to also include seven fist-bops! Cool? Cool.)
Four days later, on August 29th, he took a needless shot at the Cardinals catcher, taking the catcher's glove off and missing the plate entirely in the process. The 31st rolls around and he separates the Marlins catcher's shoulder while bowling him over. And then... well, last night the brawl happened.
Look, I'm not here to talk about whose fault it is, or the ethics of fighting in baseball. I mean, I care about that shit, but it's being talked about to death. Let professionals write about that, and I'll ask the important stuff. Like... what in the hell happened to the "ah, shucks" Nyjer that we knew all last year? I mean, this dude's personality turned as quick as anyone's I've seen. I asked this last night on Twitter, but whose heel-turn was more surprising, Nyjer's or when Shawn Michaels super-kicked Marty Jannetty to break up The Rockers? Hold on a sec here... just gonna go back and watch that clip. HOLY SHIT! How come I never noticed this before? That wasn't Shawn Michaels at all! That's... That's... That's Nyjer Morgan's music!



(Thank you for allowing me to veer off into wrestling land. Much obliged. Anyone still reading? No? Ugh...)

Seriously, what happened to the guffawing Tony Plush that everybody fell in love with? I guess it turns out that he's got a wicked temper just no one had pissed him off enough? Maybe he snaps when pushed far enough? Maybe, just maybe... he's not a nice guy at all...

You see, I did some investigating into Mr. Morgan, and found a destroyed digital camera in an evidence locker of a police station. It was evidence in an investigation into an assault and battery that was never solved. They found the victim in a hospital just muttering to himself, over and over... "I should'a listened to him. He kept telling me not to make him angry. Oh, God. Why did I have to go and make him angry?!" From that smashed camera I was able to pull one picture. The very last picture that the camera had taken....




Oh. My. God. Anyone know a lawyer I can get a hold of? I have a feeling I might need one. Well, that and a hospital once Nyjer finds out I unearthed this pictu


DIS IS INCREDIBLE PLUSH. SECTION138 GONE. ME SMASH! ME SMASHED HIM GOOD!

INCREDIBLE PLUSH NOW OFF TO FIND WES HELMS FOR TALKING BAD BOUT INCREDIBLE PLUSH!

NEED TO FIND AUTOMOBILE TO STEAL TO GET TO FLORIDA. YOU WISH INCREDIBLE PLUSH GOOD LUCK AS INCREDIBLE PLUSH VERY BAD AT STEALING.

Holy Jesus. Not again. Ugh.

Well, one year and 17 days from the last Tommy John post I wrote, here I am writing another. Last year's was about Jordan Zimmermann. This one? Stephen Strasburg. Just like last year, I'm pretty sad right now and don't feel much like writing. So, if you excuse me, I'll just let my pets do the talking. They all let out little sighs after I just broke the news to them. Little teeny tiny heart breaking sighs. Damn you, elbows. DAMN YOU TO HELL!!


Is there a possible silver lining? Not really. We know the kid has a great work ethic, so he might be able to be competitively throwing in under 12 months like ZNN did. But, no one's really sure if he'll come back and be as effective as he was that magical night back in June. And, like DC Yetti said, we'll be able to thin the herd and find out who the true Nats fans are with this as the rats will be jumping ship. (I'm aware that all of you are true fans, though. No one would put up with my shitty writing and photoshops otherwise. GROUP HUG!)
Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to handle this situation the same way I do all my bad situations. With my alcoholic cat. Go ahead and get started without me, Frankie. Just be sure to leave some for me. I'mma need it.

Well, Jason... It's up to you.

When Jason Marquis scribbled his signature on that 2 year/$15MM contract in the off season I had no idea what he was actually doing. You see, I thought he was intending to provide the Nationals with his (more or less average) pitching skills. The best of those skills being his ability to go out every 5th day and give his team a start. After all, he had averaged 192 innings pitched per season and even finished tied for 4th in the NL last year.
Well... how can I put this nicely... the only way this season could have gone any better for Jason, and the Nats (and us fans) would've been if his fucking arm fell off while signing the contract. That would've saved us (ALL) a shit ton of tears.
A glance at his game logs for this year brings me to my knees, crying, "Why, Rizzo... WHY!!!??" (I am then reminded of Mike Rizzo's fetish - Sinkerballers - and it becomes a little clearer.) It's also no surprise that I might have more hatred towards Jason than others since I actually had to sit through his two first home starts. (Fuck it. Let's call them what they were, really, which was "starts.") I had to sit there as Phillie fans vomited on little girls all around me screaming and taunting on April 7th, while lil' Jason sauntered out and threw 4 innings of brutal baseball. 8 hits, 3 walks, and and one hit batter later he's leaving the game with the Nats down 3. Thanks for that, Jason.
So, things had to get better his next start, right? I mean.. come on! What are the odds he would have a worse game?

PITCHING... YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG

To make matters worse about that game it happened to be about -26 degrees with the windchill. Worst. Inning. Ever.

So, fast forward to today. Why today? Well... it's because Jason is starting today. Against the Phillies. And Chase Utley is off the DL. And playing. Do you see where I'm going here?

My hatred for all things Chase Utley has been documented before. I even put a bounty out on him. (And wouldn't you? Look at that smug mother fucker, fake dirt on his uniform, casually crossed legs... GAH GAVIN SMASH!!!!11!!!!!!!!!)


So... where the hell am I? Oh yeah, the point of this post (which I swear was only going to be one paragraph. I apologize for my blabbering).

Jason... in order to make it up to the Nats, and all us fans (especially those of us that had to sit through your shit), I've got three words for you: "Sweep the leg." And by which I really mean "Break other hand."

Get him a body bag! Yeah!

You do that for me, my friend, and I might just think about letting you in on my monthly poker games. Maybe the Christmas card list, too. (Baby steps, pal. Baby steps.)

Bryce Harper's secret weapon.

Oh, boy. We all knew Bryce Harper (the number one overall pick by the Washington Nationals this year) was angling for a huge signing. I mean, he did some extraordinary things to be eligible for this draft - He took his GED after his sophomore year in High School and enrolled in Junior College - thus moving up his eligibility. And to add to that, with the deadline approaching to sign Bryce or lose him back to the draft pool looming (8/16 at midnight), Bryce has gone and enrolled in classes again for this coming semester.
I chalked that up to posturing, and had good feelings that the Nationals would sign him, and I still believe they will call his bluff and get it done. I'm just not sure, anymore, that it won't be for an astronomical sum of cash. You see... Miss Chatter's Twitter feed led me to a Bryce Harper signed ball this morning. I Googled for other Bryce signed balls, and sure enough, he signs them all the same way:



A quick search for Luke 1:37 brings up the following quote:

"For nothing is impossible with God."

Oh. I see. Weird, I didn't know he was religious. How did I miss this? I mean, I even searched through some pictures of him and didn't see any signs. OR DID I??? I took a closer look at this picture, and found something weird (I've added an arrow to point your eyeballs in the right direction:


Hmmm... I had the CSI lab zoom and enhance the picture and the results are in:



Dammit. If that Luke 1:37 quote is true, the Nats are over a barrel. .

Collin Balester signs a contract with Hasbro

Last night Collin drilled Mark Reynolds in the head with a mid 90s fastball. (You can watch the clip here, if you like. Go ahead. He was fine.) He did the same thing to Rickie Weeks of the Brewers back on the 25th of last month, too. (Only MLB doesn't have that available for viewing. I'm not the one slacking this time.)
So, that's 2 hit batsmen in 4.2 IP for Collin. How does this compare with his past? Well, let me fond out for you. I only went back to 2007, though, because I'm short on time lazy as shit:

2007 - Minor Leagues: 1 hit batsman every 18.75 IP
2008 - AAA 1 every 19.55 IP. Majors - 1 every 13.333
2009 - AAA 1 every 17.85 IP. Majors - None hit in 30.1 IP (way to go, Colin!)
2010 - AAA 1 every 17.333 IP. Majors - 1 every 2.1 IP

Now, what does this mean (besides the fact that me do good math)? Well, it means that... na, I'm just fucking with ya. I have absolutely no idea what it means. Except that he's never been as bad hitting guys as Carlos Marmol was last year. (MLB leading 1 HBP for every 6.166 IP. Jesus.)

So, that leaves us with two burning questions:

1. Why the sudden wildness?
2. Why the sudden penchant for nailing dudes in the noggin?
   

Now, I don't have the foggiest idea about number 1. Maybe he thinks he has to pitch inside more as a reliever. Maybe his fingers shrank in some bizarre accident, leaving him with less control. Ask Steve McCatty. But, the answer to number 2? Easy. I found out he signed a contract with Hasbro (c) to be in a line of action figures. They're due to hit the shelves in September, but I managed to get some spy shots with my connections.





Really, Bally? You're posing for a line of comic book toys? I mean, how on earth is that gonna get you any chicks? What's that? Some chicks dig comics?

Well played, Balester. Well played indeed.

Fare thee well, Mr. Capps

Yesterday Mike Rizzo traded away Matt Capps and $500K to Minnesota for catcher Wilson Ramos and LHP Joe Testa. Now, who Joe Testa is doesn't really matter (cough:24 years old in high A ball:cough), but who Wilson Ramos is does. He was ranked the 42nd prospect in all of baseball coming into this year by Keith Law. That link may be for ESPN Insiders only, so here's a snippet of what Law said.

...when he plays he hits, and he plays a premium position at which bats like his are hard to find. ... he throws extremely well (he's nailed 43 percent of would-be base stealers in the past two years) and his receiving is adequate. ... At the plate, he has strong hands and very good hand-eye coordination, with a hard, line-drive-oriented swing

Now, Derek Norris came into this year ranked ahead of Ramos at #31, but his season so far has been nothing short of disappointing. Derek's power has vanished, but he's still getting on base at an incredible clip (.408). That really doesn't do too much to make his other numbers look good, though (.231 batting average and a .374 slugging percentage). The power loss can hopefully (PLEASE, JESUS PLEASE!) be attributed to the hamate bone surgery he had at the end of last year, as 99% of the players that have surgery there take a full year to regain their power. (Even the Non-Human Zim had his power drop. Those 14 HR in 2008? Yup, the year of his hamate surgery. His HR total the year before was 24, and went up to a career high 33 the year after).
So, Ramos goes to the #1 overall position in the Nats prospects list, and becomes the next catcher. Ramos is better defensively than Norris, as well, so that even frees the Nats up to move Derek if his bat demands he play in the big leagues.
And... Matty Capps? God love him. He throws strikes, and is so damn friendly. He will give the Twins a true closer (a position the Wookie - Jon Rauch - had been trying to fill) and a great shot to win their division. He was our All-Star rep, and leads the league in games finished (43) and is 4th in the league in saves (26). What does that mean? It means that he was due an extremely large raise after this season, and I'm not sure the Nats needed to pay it. He signed a 1 year $3.5MM contract to come here, and my guess is he'll see ~$6MM for next year after arbitration. Why pay Capps that much when we have Drew Storen here to take over the closer role next year? Drew had (and still has) this year to learn in a MLB bullpen, and will even get his feet wet with save opportunities now that Capps is gone. There is no doubt in my mind Storen will come into next year as the closer out of spring training.

Jesus. So sorry for the super duper long serious baseball talk. I had quite a few friends ask me how I felt about the deal and when I told them that I loved the trade, they asked why. So - I wrote this post. Now, let's bid a fond farewell to Matt Capps for his two greatest achievements here in DC - His fucking incredible entrance music (Europe's The Final Countdown) and his fucking incredibly awkward celebration photos. Ladies and Gentlemen... the least photogenic high-fiver of all time...

Mr. Matthew Capps.

Me want to punch Dibble in groin

So, I'm watching a game late last week, and Rob Dibble made a comment that finally triggered just what it is that makes me dislike his commentary style. My memory sucks, so I'm only paraphrasing here, but Bob Carpenter was recounting a home run Cristian Guzman had hit the previous night. Dibble comes back with, "Well, Bob, you can see here [on a replay] that the pitcher left the pitch hanging out over the plate and Cristian was given a gift." Really, Dibble? Instead of taking the opportunity to say, "Good on you, Goozie" you go for the "Guzzie got lucky there" route? Fuck you in the ear, pal. It's shit like that that reminds me of how damn negative you are. The Nats pitchers always suck, don't they Rob? The hitters are never doing things the correct way, are they Rob? I remember watching a game in which Strasburg was having trouble with the mound (not the Cleveland game) and the grounds crew was coming out to treat the mound. Dibble went on a 3 minute long "how to" of what - exactly - the grounds crew needed to do. "The dirt needs to be more clay than red dirt and it needs to be rolled, then tamped blah blah fucking blah." It hit me that he's never once explained how he learns the things he says. And it hit me that he's stating all his opinions as facts. Look, Rob, if you want to say, "Well, Detwiler just did right there what you can never do..." maybe you'd sound a little less like a know-it-all douche if you followed it up with something that might humble yourself a little. Maybe something like... "And you know how I know you don't do that? I got my ass handed to me once when I threw an 0-2 fastball and didn't get it up high enough." You know what would also help? If Bobby Carpenter would call you on more of your criticisms. When you start ripping on a pitcher's command Bob would make my fucking day if he came back with, "Well you know, Rob, there is video out there of you missing an entire back stop with some of your pitches." And I would give Bob a huge hug and a peck on the cheek if he ever called Rob's bluff when Rob's ripping Drew Storen about allowing inherited runners to score when Dibble allowed 37% to score in 1993 with, "Wow, Rob, that advice will likely be accepted about the same amount of times those 17 women accepted your room number last night at the bar - zero." (Longest run-on sentence ever? Perhaps. Most words used to make a point? Yup.)
So, Rob, to sum it up - I'm in huge HULK SMASH mode these days regarding your commenting styles. So much so, that I made two shirts, just for you! If you would like to buy some, Rob, you can just click the pictures for a link to the store. Heck, you can purchase them with all the cash you robbed from Cincinnati in 1993. ($2.5MM for an ERA+ of 63, Rob? And a WHIP of 1.824? You got big balls showing up there again, my friend.)

Or

And finally, I was poking around the innertubes and came upon Mr. Dibble's Zazzle store. I think I saw this stuff a couple years back, but I completely forgot about it. Until today. I see that he has a slogan that he like to use on his stuff -



Well, I found his font and threw this together for him. Maybe he can put this on one of his shirts?

Meat like a da weed.

So, Dmitri Young was recently arrested with some pot and pot paraphernalia. I didn't really read too much of the article, cause I love me some Meat Hook, and it depressed me that he was arrested. But what also depressed me was that I had someone living in my office for years that I could be using for profit in one of my many, many business ventures. You see... I'm also a drug dealer in my spare time. (Now, don't judge me, dammit, cause I'm many worse things than a drug dealer. I'm also a Ron Villone apologist. You see, Ron is great for many things - one of them being putting my 4-week-old to sleep. When she cries up a fit, I just throw in a DVD of one of Villone's Nats appearances and - BOOM - she's bored to sleep in seven minutes, which is the approximate time it takes Villone to throw one fucking pitch.*)

Anyway, I decided to try a little experiment on my Dmitri bobble head. First, I plopped him on my desk and asked him regular questions like, "Hey, Meat, how's it going?" and "How bout this weather?" His response was as expected...

"Meh"

Then, I pulled out this giant sack of weed that I have in my desk drawer, and plopped it in front of him to see his reaction.

"YOWZERS!"

Yup. Meat certainly perked up. Oh, I guess it's at this point that I should provide you with Dmiti's explanation. You see... Meat has (as we all know) the diabetes and... apparently... weed helps out with the diabetes. So, while he may be quick with the bills for some weed, it's not just for reckless recreational purposes. It's for science, dammit, and don't forget it.**

Okay, I'm done my post for the month, so I'm checking out like Pedro Cerrano at a curve ball convention. Later, taters, and if you're in Rockville tonight, hit me up and I'll let you saddle up next to me at the bar and buy me a few Yuenglings during Strasburg's start. I'll be the one bare-chested with "FEAR THE EARS!" painted on my torso. (You see... Stras has these giant satellites for ears, and "fear" rhymes with "ea"... ah fuck it.)

*Why yes, I did recycle one of my Twitter tweets. I'm getting lazy in my old age.

**I couldn't give two shits why anyone smokes, by the way. If it helps you with your pains/anxiety/sleeplessness/medical condition/stress good for you. Seriously. It ain't my cup of tea anymore, but I'd be the largest ass hat on the planet if I tried to strike down someone for smoking given my past indulgences. Oh wait... make that second biggest ass hat. Forgot about Rob Dibble.

Uh... hey, Amigo... That's not what really happened.

(Please allow me to repeat myself here, as I believe I've written this same sentiment here and here. What can I say? I like to rip on Carp.)

Dear Bob Carpenter... It's been a while since I've felt the need to call you out on something you did. Sure, I've wanted to, but didn't think I had to. But during last night's 2-1 win over the smelly Mets (and their smelly fans) you really ground my gears.

It was the bottom of the fifth inning and Ian Desmond was up. I was on the couch at the time, but didn't have my eyeballs actually pointed at the TV. I think I was making stupid goo-goo sounds at my totally awesome baby (They're just like real people, only smaller!!) ... or maybe I was solving some world renowned "unbeatable" math equation... I forget. Anyway, I'm in the middle of carrying the two to the fifth power or some shit when I hear Bob get all excited like. I hear the familiar call of his:

"See. You. Later."

"Weeeeee!" I thought to myself. "I love me some Ian Desmond." (I was also thinking, "I hope he would one day like to meet me and shake my hand cause I'm awesome, and my hands feel like silk.") And then... BOOM... right there in the middle of my day dream (the part where Ian is complimenting me on my fine choice of lunch meat (honey ham) and asking me if I would like to try on his puffy jacket (its interior is lined with the feathers of a Pegasus)) Bob blurts out (wait for it...)

"My bad. The ball is still in play."

I shit you not, folks. He actually said that! Look, here's the clip.

Bobby be dum dum. from Section 138 on Vimeo.

Can you fucking believe it? I mean... the only thing the dude has to do it call what he actually fucking sees as it actually fucking happens. His job does not require him to see into the fucking future, or to take random goddamn guesses as what's about to occur. But, what does he do? That's right... he calls the play early, and destroys my bromance with Ian.

Now, skip to bottom of the ninth. The score is tied 1-1, and Ryan Zimmerman is up with the bases loaded and one out. The pitch comes in, Ryan swings, and guess what the fuck Bob says*!!

Way to go, Bobby Carpenter. from Section 138 on Vimeo.

Argh!! Can you believe it? What a MAROON!

*Is not actually what Bob said. In reality he said... well, I don't remember what exactly he said, but I bet it was something stupid. Like... "Don't forget to buy your official Bob Carpenter score book." Goddamn shill. That guy takes, like, every opportunity he gets to try and force some crappy product on us. I don't care what t-shirts scoring accessory you have, Section 138 dude Bob, I'm not interested. Gah!

What I learned watching the World Cup

So, I'm home with the wife and new baby (Kaitlyn Hannah- born last Thursday, June 10th, which is the same day Matty fucking Chico was born!!!!1!!1!!!eleven!!) and have been watching most of the three World Cup games shown each day. I've learned a lot, especially about the rules and how the referees call fouls. Which is - they don't. Seriously. When they call a foul, they don't have to say who committed the foul, nor do they have to say what the fuck the foul even was! (Joe West is salivating at this and is seriously considering a job change.)
I also learned that Portugal's Cristiano Ronaldo is the A.J. Pierzynski of soccer. He whines, cries, pouts, antagonizes, torments, molests, badgers, bully-rags, grates, irks, besets, and ruffles his opponents. He also dives like nobody's business. I mean, MY GOD! Check out this play that I recorded directly off the TV during the Portugal vs Ivory Coast game on Tuesday:

Fucking unbelievable.

On a totally unrelated note, how bout you cheap bastards visit a brother's spreadshirt shop and buy some goddamn shirts! I've got a new design up in honor of the guy playing some crazy defense at shortstop, Mr. Ian "Hee-Sop" Desmond. Check it:


I also have a couple other shirts up that I haven't posted. Have you checked out the shop and seen them? Yeah, you did? Sweet! Now, how come you didn't buy one? (Insert crying picture here as you have driven me to tears. Sniff.) For those that haven't checked out my sweet ass shop, here's another never before blogged item. Behold the goodness that is the El Drew K Crew and their blatant disregard for the law!


Those rebels! If they're not careful, the could end up in the clink next to other famous revolutionaries. Like... well, shit. I don't know any off the top of my head, but I bet there's a shit ton in North Korean prisons. (Did I just compare fans of Drew Storen to people locked up for standing up to a communist dictatorship? Fuck no!)

Alright. My shilling is done. Now, how about Johnny Lannan going out and getting us a win today - my very first Father's Day? That would be sweet! (You know what else is sweet? This kick ass shirt from this kick ass spreadshirt that my daughter got me for Father's Day! /Yanked off stage by The Sandman while screaming, "Just one more chance! Please!")

Hey, Lastings... (snicker)

Hi! I'm a little late posting this because I went to the hospital on Wednesday morning for the birth of my daughter. I'm back now, though, and as they say... better late than not doing it in any amount of time. (Or something like that.)

Anyway, daughter, hospital, best moment of my life, blah blah blah... let's talk some EXTREME HUMILIATION!

What was the best part of Strasburg's first start? Without a doubt, it was his strikeout of LOLastings Milledge. Complete with a curve ball that had LOLastings' knees buckling. (Hmmm... I seem to remember him taking part in a rap video in the past with a title foreshadowing this *exact* moment. Oh yeah, here it is. Clickie and enjoy.)

Now, without further ado, I do my best to humiliate LOLastings in no less than three file formats. Enjoy! (I've wanted to use the Wilhelm scream for years in this blog. I finally got the chance.)

In 30 second video form (looping the same 1.5 seconds all the time):

LOLastings Milledge. from Section 138 on Vimeo.

Lastings dives out of the way of a... strike, right down the middle, screaming all the time.

In gif form:

And, finally, a link to the YTMND.com flash post, which you can watch for 72 hours in a row, if you like.

http://lolastings.ytmnd.com/

About that Berkman "check swing"...

Why yes... I do realize I'm late on this post. Give me a break, I'm busy lazy.
So, I prolly don't have to re-hash the events of the game. You can go here or here to find out that Matt Capps had Lance Berkman (Tony!!) at a two strike count and two outs when he threw a fastball on the outside part of the plate. Berkman swung at it, and missed.

Only the third base umpire said he didn't swing. He said Lance checked his swing. Here's a gif showing the swing from three angles so you can see what the third base umpire couldn't.

Now, shit shouldn't be this hard, should it? Seems like a simple "yup, he swung" to me. But then again, what the hell do I know? Let's ask Jim Riggleman...

Hey, Jim! Jim! Don't I possess an incredible amount of baseball knowledge? Enough that you regularly call me for my sage advice?

Oh, fuck you, Jim! How are you gonna call me out like that in front of all (three) of my friends? That's cold, dude. Just for that, I'm not gonna make a sweet ass t-shirt designed with you in mind!

What's that, guys? You want to know more about sweet ass t-shirts designed with Nationals in mind? Say no more! Just head on over to this kick butt spreadshirt store and buy a bunch of each model.

In fact, a new shirt debuted today. (And, actually, is the reason for me pushing this post back a day. Didn't really seem like yesterday was the best day to pimp a closer's shirt. You know.. with the loss and all...) Yup, get ready to have your wallets "Open up and say ... Ahh!" to this sweet bitch of a shirt:



That's right, kiddos, you too can own your very own shirt based on the song Matty Capps comes out to when dominating doods! I mean, look at the font! That's used by the band!!1!! Now, THAT is paying attention to details!!111!11 I also hear there's other colors over there.

Now, c'mon... do me a favor. Buy some shirts. I have a daughter coming into this world any day now. You want her with no shoes on her feet? That's right, folks. Her shoe money come's from the shirt money. Hope you sleep well knowing that there are rusty nails and broken glass just begging to plunge themselves into an infant's tender, soft, fresh skin.

/sniff

Goggles with the shoe shine duties.

So, my wife's mother bought us this bad-ass video camera for a gift so that we could film the new baby saying "goo-goo" and crying and stuff. Really, really cool camera, too. Takes full 1080p recordings, 20x optical zoom, all kinds of good shit. Except... well... I can't do shit with videos except upload them to YouTube. I can't tell you how frustrating this is. The camera records in .mts format, and none of the video editors that I have can handle .mts. I also can't find a decent shareware video converter that can convert it to something that my video editors can handle and keep the quality. The only thing my huge neanderthal brain can do is push the big red "YouTube" button on the camera while it's attached to my laptop to upload it directly to YouTube. In its entirety. With no edits.
Why the hell am I ranting? Because, I took the camera out for the first time this past Sunday and took some video of the Sunday shoe shine ritual that takes place in the Nats bullpen. The video I ended up with looks stunningly good during playback on the camera, and pretty damn great on YouTube, even. (Original upload here.) What does not look any where near halfway decent, however, is the shit I am able to edit with. You end up with the piece of crap video below that I threw together while cursing all of humanity. Enjoy!



So, yeah. Sorry for the digression from baseball. Back to baseball, and more specifically - Mr. Goggles himself - Tyler Clippard. I had an idea for a graphic I wanted to make with him and his funky delivery. His silhouette is noticeable a mile away, and I wanted to make some cartoony graphic about it, not knowing what to do with the graphic once done. Well, I had messed around with a "Viva El Drew K!" shirt a couple weeks back, and someone said the Goggles graphic I made would look good on a t-shirt. So. With that said, I now whore myself out to all of you good folks. Now how about your cheap asses purchase a shirt? Or seven? Great. Thanks. Here's what it looks like, along with a link to the spreadshirt store. There are other colors there, and if anyone wants any of the two printed colors changed, I can do that on demand.


There's also the El Drew K shirt there, and I have a few more designs in mind. I appreciate you allowing me to push crappy products upon you, btw. You's good peeps.

Now, can anyone tell me where to send a going away present to Brian Bruney? Oh, can you also recommend a carrier that doesn't mind delivering packages that smell like rotting garbage? Thanks!

Storen is soaring! ::Groan:: (Sorry.)

Ladies and Gentlemen:

That is all. Commence your car tipping-over and your street light pulling-downing.

It sure is dusty in here...

As I write this, my eyes are a little damp. Must be all this goddamn dust floating around that's making my eyes water.

Ladies and Gentlemen, our boy did it! I present to you, Drew Storen's first ever Major League line from his first Major League game:

Drew came in with a man on 1st and one out. He got the first batter to fly out to left field, and then broke out THE HAMMER OF UNFORGIVING DESTRUCTION onto poor Matt Holliday, striking that guy out.

Which brings me to the next subject. Did you know Baseball-reference has Matt Holliday's nickname as being "Big Daddy?" Well, what about Drew's nickname? We had the poll back last year on whether or not Drew should keep his SOCKS OF DOOM. You guys voted, and the outcome was 45-2 in favor of him keeping the socks. Well, he didn't keep the socks, as we all know, so the nickname post I had went in vain. Or did it...?? No, in the comments came a nickname suggestion that I've used every now and then, and one his family admitted to using in the past (although I can't find that link right now). So, in honor of the *huge* strike out on Holliday last night, I bestow upon Drew Storen the unofficial nickname of:

El Drew K

Hey, it's a helluva lot better than what I was going to call him after he broke my heart by ditching the socks (Meanie Bo-Beanie was tops, with Stupid Doo-Doo Head coming in a close second). Speaking of which.. as I was watching Drew, I couldn't help but sing this song as though I were a three-year-old child holding a grudge:

But you're our fool, Drew. And that's what really matters. Now how about you reward us by drilling Utley the first time you face him? Then you'll really get some loving. Unwanted, grotesque, stalker-ish loving, but loving all the same.

The Bullpen sucked so hard it's now a black hole.

Shit, I ain't no scientist, but black holes do have something to do with sucking, right? And so do the Nat's bullpen I. That's right... I am to blame for the bullpen's Lindsay Lohan like meltdown last night. (Like that 2007 Lohan reference there? Sweet, wasn't it? Stick around, and I'll ask why they call Ovaltine Ovaltine. (Hint - the question has something to do with Ovaltine not actually being shaped like an oval.)) I was floating around in the clouds, forgetting that these Nats are still the Nats. And that this bullpen still has Brian Bruney in it. And that despite Goggle's 6-0 record, he had 4 blown saves, and could have easily been 2-4. In fact, I was riding so high that I actually changed my work computer's desk top. That's right. I jinxed the fuck outta the pen by changing from this:

To this:

So, bring on the flames. I deserve it. (But I'm still buying one of these wicked cool t-shirts! Are you?)

(Is "Wicked Cool" out of style? You know... like on par with.. "Totally Rad"? Cause I don't give a fuck. I'mma keep saying it. Why, it's all the rage back in St. Olaf...)