Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Mr. Ivan Rodriguez does the impossible.

In case you missed it this weekend, Ivan Rodriguez received awesome news on Saturday. I think it's kind of odd that they decided to deliver the news to him via an ear piece in the middle of a play during the 9th inning, but they delivered the news, none-the-less.

Judging from his reaction, the only logical explanation has to be that he was just given the news that his science experiments that he has been working on in his spare time resulted in him CURING CANCER, right?!

Wait... what? He just tagged a guy out in a play at the plate? He wasn't actually receiving congratulations from Barack Obama on his wining the election for the President of Puerto Rico?

Geez... Imagine his reaction if something that awesome did happen.

(The play at the plate can be seen here. Seriously, though, it made me smile when Pudge did that. Dude got all kid like. I half expected him to scream, "Have a seat, lunch meat!" at the runner, then run into the dugout squealing, then falling down and having a huge giggle fit, which would lead to him peeing his pants.

What? You guys didn't pee your pants when you got real happy?
Well... this is awkward...)

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Forgive me, Jordan, for I am late with this.

Happy (belated) birthday, Jordan Zimmermann! While I may be late in wishing him good cheer, I saw John McLaren celebrating with him on Monday, his actual birthday.

My, my. That is one generously sized ice cream cone, Johnnie. Good thing ZNN is 6' 2" and 220 lbs, or else that might be too much strawberry goodness for him to handle. Can you imagine Kansas City Royals pitcher Tim Collins (listed as a generous 5' 7") trying to tackle that cone?

That poor kid is gonna be eating that cone for days. I sure do hope he isn't lactose intolerant.

So, happy 25th, Jordan. My present will be in the mail soon. Be neither alarmed at the abundance of holes punched in the outside of the box, nor the muffled cries coming from inside it. You see, my body requires air to breathe, and I'm claustrophobic.

Friday, May 20, 2011

Friday = Dump day.

Do I have any new ideas for you all today? Nope. Know what that means? It means I'm just going to dump some of my Twitter stuff from this week in this here post, as well as a video I've been hanging onto for a week. Enjoy, and smooches!

First up: Happy birthday, Jayson Werth. Your present to me? A squiggly red line under your first name every single time I type it. My gift to you? This picture. (I think I'm getting ripped off here, to be honest.)

I always told myself I was going to make a video of Tone Loc's "Funky Cold Medina" where the lyrics were changed to say "Roger Bern Adina." I never did, however, mostly because I'm lazy. So, imagine how damn happy I was when the opportunity presented itself by the Nats placing a guy named Cole on the active roster. (Hint: It was somewhere between happy and pretty happy.)

And two quick videos to round out the post. The first is a follow up the the Roger Bernadina "Superman" video that I made recently. That video was pretty easy to make, and only required five or so splices of the music. Well, I always wanted to make a highlight scored to Also Sprach Zarathustra, and I had the opportunity a few weeks back when Danny Espinosa was shown on MASN's X-Mo making an incredible turn on a double play. Problem is, I couldn't find the video for it. Well, I decided to settle this week and use his home run from Monday's Pitt game. I had to make quite a few splices, and slow the video way down to get it to work, though, and because of that I wasn't real happy with it. So, I just threw it up on Twitter cause I didn't think it was blog-worthy. Well, it may not be blog-worthy on it's own, but on DUMP DAY? Hell yeah. Enjoy!

Oh, Daniel. You so epic.

And, finally, a few weeks back I noticed this exchange in the dugout between Jayson Werth and Michael Morse. It's not exactly on the level of the Willingham/Dunn handshake deal of 2009, but I still found it humorous. And if I find it humorous, dammit, I'm gonna make you sit through it.


There you go. A hodgepodge post for you, yet a post none-the-less. That ought-ta keep you folks from emailing me saying, "need a new post, dammit." (Oh, and to that one person that actually does send me those emails - C'mon, Mom. I'm busy sometimes. Why don't you just pick up the phone and call me instead of cursing me out in e-mails? /SNIFF)

It's the BlOrioles (HAHAHAHA!!1!!) this weekend. How bout a sweep, boys? (Ah, screw it - how bout just one fucking run, boys?)

Monday, May 16, 2011

The easiest video I ever made.


Don't know if you all heard, but Roger Bernadina made good catch Friday night. Like... good, good! So good, that I forget proper English when talking about it. I turn into caveman who only say, "Wowsers!"

I try make video that show how good Shark Man be, but all I manage to do is marry music to video, as I stunned stupid by play.

Roger Bernadina patrols the outfield like a shark after its prey. The ball is Roger's prey, and it cannot escape.

Me think music go good with diving man. Fit scene well. You got problem with me making such simple movie? Too bad. As meanest man on planet once say to me, "Nanny nanny boo boo. Stick your head in doo doo!"

(I also want make mention of awesome (whoops, or is that JAWESOME) shirt that for sale by awesome t shirt person. Buy now, dum dums. It make you cool when wear it. Just click picture. C'mon... my car needs new stones up front. Anytime it rain, stones slip. Make for not safe driving.)

Thursday, May 12, 2011

¿Señor Ciento? ¡Mucho Fuego!

With this post title, I'm shooting for the biggest butchering of a language ever. To all Spanish speaking folks out there, I'm deeply sorry. For everyone else, feel free to pretend like the title says, "Mr. 100? On Fire!"
Mr. 100[MPH], of course, is Drew Storen, aka "Señor Ciento." Aka "El Drew K." Aka "The Bearded Assassin."
He threw one inning last night, and was the pitcher of record for the top of the 11th inning, so he got the win. The kid has been an absolute beast as of late, and it just so happens he's had some man fur on his mug as of late, as well. I did some little no research, and guesstimated his beard birth to be around April 15th, or 12 games ago. His stats since then? Peep these, yo:

In this incredible run he hasn't allowed a run. Not an earned run, but a run, period. He's struck out nine, walked only two, and has allowed only seven hits, which gives him a WHIP of 0.675. Drew is just unconscious right now, and has grabbed a hold of that closer role so tight that he had to give it CPR at least four separate times. (See, cause he choked it till it passed out... cause he grabbed the closer role... grabbed... choked. GAH, forget it.)

So, without further ado, allow me to steal the gimmick of one of my favorite Nats tumblrs out there (sweetpearacer's Washington NationLOLs) with this statement that Drew gave me last night.

I, for one, welcome our new bearded overlord.*

*I also just used the most overused meme outside of Chuck Norris Facts. All I'm missing is a reference to the other Matt Groening sho- All glory to the HYPNO-DREW!

(Holy frijole, did I just mail this shit in, or did I just mail this shit in, AMIRITE?)

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Hooray, Hammer Hands!

[NOTE: I composed this on Tuesday, May 10th, but didn't post it until Wednesday, May 11th. All "yesterdays" should read as "day-before-yesterdays." What? I'm lazy, and I take two days to post, what can I say?]

When my wife asked about a Nats outfielder a few years back, I told her he didn't have a great bat, but he played very good defense. She then said, "What's his name?"
"Ryan Langerhans," was my reply.
"Oh, so that's why he's good defensively. He has longer hands than others."
Skip to a few years later, and Joel Hanrahan is moved to the bullpen. He turns out to be a really fan friendly guy, and always had a smile and a wave for us at games. Somehow, playing off the Langerhans/Longer Hands thing, I did what I always do... drag things out way too far until they no longer resemble anything that is even remotely funny/charming/chuckle-worthy, etc. Yes, I actually tried to play "Hanrahan" into "Hammer Hands." (Ah, this reeks of deja vu, as I can see every single person reading this scrunching up their foreheads and mouthing, "Hammer Hands? What the fuck...??") You see, he threw super hard, so I tried to play his name into something witty about his hands, like my wife did with Ryan's name years earlier, hence "Hammer Hands."
Well, when I excitedly yelled it to Joel, it went over as well as... well... Ryan Church in Israel. But, dammit, I made it up, and I was gonna stick with it. To this very day, I always call Joel Hanrahan "Joel Hammer Hands."
Do I have a point here? You best believe I do. You see, Joel won the Pittsburgh Pirates closer gig this year, and I always make a point to check in on him and how he's doing. So, imagine my delight when MLB network cut to their game last night versus the Dodgers. Joel was in for the 9th, a save situation. He ended up with the save after their third baseman, Pedro Alvarez, made a great diving stop and throw to first for the third out. I then noticed that Pedro's hat looked weird.

Yeah... dude wears his ears inside his hat. Now, I thought it was odd, and shook my head while saying something to myself about "kids" and "get of my lawn," but I wanted to see if I was in the minority on this. So... I took the opportunity to call the visitors clubhouse in Atlanta today to see if it was something baseball kids (Alvarez is 24) were doing, and if I should just shrug it off and accept it. Well, who was the first person to pick up?

Yup, it was good ol' Matty Stairs. So I dove right in there. "Matt," I said, "Have you seen th..."
"It's Mr. Stairs."
"Mr. Stairs. You should show some respect for your elders, and call me Mr. Stairs."
"But, I'm 35-years-..."
"Do I look like I give a shit, son? 35? I got bats older than that."
"Well, maybe if you swung them during your plate appearances, you might make contact with the ball, and wear your bats out sooner."
"Oh, you're a God damn funny man, huh? How would you like it if I rap you upside your skull with one of my Louisville Sluggers you were just making fun of? Huh, Buster Brown?"
"I wouldn't like that at all, Sir."
"Good. Hang on a second, whipper-snapper."
At this point his voice got muffled as it sounded like he was putting his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone. I couldn't make out the entire conversation, but it sounded something like: "Don't you dare turn off NCIS, you no respect having punk. What? For shit's sake, LaRoche... don't make me put you over my knee and whoop you like the bratty snot-nosed kid you are. Do I make myself clear, boy? Good, now go get me my prune juice and leave the T.V. the fuck alone. CBS has quality programming!"
"Alright, what the hell did you want again?" he asked.
"Well, Mr. Stairs, have you seen Pedro Alvarez in Pittsburgh? If so, do you have any comment on how he wears his hat?"
"Pedro who now? No, don't know him. Hang on one second as I get one of the kids around here to pull up a picture of him on that portable picture machines they all have these days."
The phone gets muffled a bit again, but I can hear the majority of the conversation, and it went a little something like this: "Hey, Stankiel! Yeah, you, Ricky. You got one of those i paddle thingies on you? What? Okay, okay... whatever... iPad/i paddle. Pull up a picture of that Alvarez kid on the Pirates. You got it? Good, lemme see that picture now, son... HOLY HELL!"
Matt's voice came back on the line with a terse "You still there, kid?"
"Yes, sir... Still here, Mr. Stairs."
"Listen, thanks for bringing this to my attention. Now, I need to book a  flight to Pittsburgh ASAP. Gotta go."
"You're going to Pittsburgh right this instant? Over how a kid wears his hat?"
"No, son. Shoot, I don't care how the youngsters wear their stuff.  I've become numb over the years with all their backwards hats, eye black, flat brims, and pajama pants. No, I just remembered that I need to go to Pittsburgh to see my accountant. My Social Security payments are about to kick in, and I wanna make sure he's got my first payment for my R.V. all ready to go."

Thursday, May 5, 2011

So, Mr. Worley... Tell me more about yourself.

So, the Nats lost to this dude last night.

 Which is cool. He's embracing the goggles, just like Tyler Clippard. And, hey, he seems to be a cool gu.... jumping Jehosaphat on Jesus' pogostick! What is this monstrosity of a nickname he has for himself on his glove!?

Vanimal? VANIMAL!?!

Christ. I can just feel how he talks to women at bars after the games.

 "Hey, hey, pretty lady! What say you and the Vanimal here [gives a double gun w/clicking sounds to himself] hop in the Van-mobile and get on over to Casa de Vanster? If you play your cards right, you can even see what's in Vance's pantses. YEAH-HEH!"

Ugh. I need to go take a shower to get that slime off of me. Blech!

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Jayson Werth's reception was... irritating to my 4th grade teacher.

So, Jayson Werth made his return to Philly yesterday for the first time since being shown the door. Many people wondered how his reception would go... Would he be booed? Cheered? A mix of both? So, what was the answer?

Well, he was welcomed with horrible, teacher-assassinating, language-butchering, God awful grammar.

I'd like to address those sign folks for a minute. Guys, here are two links for proper comma usage. The first is a link to an English Basics worksheet designed for elementary school children. I'll show the rule here, but you may want to click on the link to learn other proper usages for the comma.

Commas in Direct Address
Use a comma to separate the name of someone who is being addressed from the message.
Karen, you are my favorite cousin.

I made this soup for you, Mom.

The second is a link to the book English Grammar for DUMMIES. In particular, it's to the section called "Placing Proper Punctuation." I'm going to, again, post the rule here, as I've looked up the history of the book at all the Philly libraries, and no copies have ever been checked out. Ever.

Commas: In direct address, use commas to separate the name from the rest of the sentence.

So, after this brief tutorial, allow me to correctly punctuate your signage.

There you go, guys. The tutelage was my treat. I love helping the needy, after all.

But my favorite moment of the entire Werth return certainly had to be the following animated gif I made of a mother scolding her son for daring to boo the man that is Jayson Werth.

Yay! Some families in CBP actually have good values! It's obvious they were bussed in from Cherry Hill, NJ.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

The day that Tyler Clippard stomped on my heart.

Last Sunday's game started great. I had a good BBQ sandwich at the Red Loft, accompanied by a Dogfish Head Raison D'Etre to wash it down with. (What?? Are you calling me a beer snob? It was the same price as everything else! Let's see, should I take the Miller Lite for $8 or the delicious mahogany Belgian-style brown ale brewed with beet sugar, raisins, and Belgian-style yeas... okay, okay. You got me. I do love me some Dogfish Head, but it was the exact same $8, folks. It's a no brainer.) We then wandered around a bit, and even ran into Ben Goessling from MASN. I took that time to look like an idiot by screaming, "Hey, Ben! Embrace the shark!" while holding my hand on my head like a dorsal fin. To Ben's credit, he didn't ask to have me removed from the premises. Instead, he just shook his head and said, "I just don't understand where it comes from."* I guess it's gonna take Roger Bernadina going up to him during locker room interviews and biting a chunk out of his torso to get him on board. Let's see if we can get this done folks. (I'm assuming Tyler and Terry over at the official Sharkadina blog can maybe take the place of Roger, since he's in Syracuse? Someone get them on the horn stat, and make it happen. Just be prepared to supply Goessling's blood type to the EMTs.)
We (myself, my wife, my daughter, and my friend) then settled down in our usual seats to watch a great game. And what a great game it was. Well, except for this part... This was not great.

Tyler, Tyler, Tyler. You've taken the hearts from all us "Peaches" fans and stomped on them. You ripped them from our chests, crystallized them, and shattered them into millions of itty-bitty pieces with a Daniel-Son style crane kick. The millions, hundreds, tens of us "Peaches" fans will not relinquish our pursuit of getting you to change your music back, though! Did you think we'd forget about January, Tyler? Did you forget about January, Tyler? Well then, allow me to refresh your memory. Back then, Drew Storen linked to a poll that allowed fans to vote on your walk-up (Walk-out? Warm-up? Entrance?) music. It gave us two choices... your (then) current "Peaches" and your (now) current "Ready or something something blah blah." This is how the vote ended, sir.

(Excuse me while I channel my inner Walter Sobchak for a second...)
Has the whole world gone crazy? Am I the only one around here who gives a shit about the rules?!  

Sigh. I guess Tyler doesn't, as 62% of folks voted to keep "Peaches." If anyone would like to join me on Sunday, May 15th, I'll be hurling fully loaded peach baskets into the bullpen towards Clipp. Please bring copious amounts of alcohol, money, and Kleenex. I'll need them to work up the courage, bail myself out of jail, and sop up my tears as I'm being dragged handcuffed from the stadium crying out, "Why, Tyler! Why?!?! Peaches was our jam, man!!! I thought we had a connection!"

Other than that one teeny incident (that I'm obviously not dwelling on, nor obsessed with), the game was grand. We saw a great pitching performance from ZNN and the bullpen that ended in a curly W. I also got to see Drew Storen's fur face in person, and witnessed Todd Coffey performing the shoe-shine Sunday routine. Allow me to rip-off Natsgrl1's line here by saying, "I'm surprised he can bend over that far." 

Now, onto Philly for a three game set. Wish the boys well. We certainly don't want them coming out of the series with any nasty diseases those Philly fans carry. (Oh, wins would be welcomed, too, of course, but I'm just hoping no players lose their goddamn life to the bubonic plague that's known to circulate CBP.)

* At least I think that's what Ben says. His hair is absolutely mesmerizing in person and I kind of got drawn into it, blocking out my other senses.