CSS Button No Image Css3Menu.com

Baseball Prospectus home
  
  
Click here to log in Click here for forgotten password Click here to subscribe

Articles Tagged Humor 

Search BP Articles

All Blogs (including podcasts)

Active Columns

Authors

Article Types

No Previous Tag Entries No More Tag Entries

Laid up with a knee injury, Jason scouts the recent Yu Darvish-Chris Archer matchup from the couch.

A few weeks ago, I tore the ACL in my left knee, which seems to happen every 12-15 months, a pattern that has unfortunately been the norm since 2004. So this past Saturday night the streets of Brooklyn were alive with inebriated chatter, yet I was alone on my couch, my leg engaged in a physical relationship with a bag of ice. I own MLB.tv, which is to say it owns me, and together we tackle the difficult questions in life, such as: should I watch whatever I want whenever I want it, or should I just pretend that technology is a burden and complain about the remarkable access to game action? My plans for the evening were simple, and I succumbed to the sweet allure of a matchup between Yu Darvish and Chris Archer, which I partnered with the occasional cocktail to help placate the physical pain of having a cadaver graft tear apart under your skin.

In order to get the most bang for my television watching buck, I grabbed some required tools for the scouting experience, starting with my AX725 AccuSplit stopwatch and ending with a Nambe Tilt Double Old-Fashioned glass filled with a delightful blend of quality bourbon, fresh ginger, and a splash of club soda, always served with a lime wedge to tease the mood up to a playful level. From my seat, products in hand, I spent my Saturday night sofa scouting. These are my notes:

The rest of this article is restricted to Baseball Prospectus Subscribers.

Not a subscriber?

Click here for more information on Baseball Prospectus subscriptions or use the buttons to the right to subscribe and get access to the best baseball content on the web.


Cancel anytime.


That's a 33% savings over the monthly price!


That's a 33% savings over the monthly price!

Already a subscriber? Click here and use the blue login bar to log in.

We can't always scout who we want.

With a planned trip to watch complex league action scrapped due to an upper-respiratory infection and an intense case of adult tonsillitis that my doctor deemed too contagious for commercial airline travel, I was forced to spend more time watching New York-Penn League baseball, which is a step above the complex league and not 2000 miles away. It’s a good league with legit talent, but when you prefer watching teenaged Dominicans in the presence of sparse congregations, sitting in stadiums watching adults [by most accounts] loses some of its luster.  I don’t want to come off as an ageist or a developmentalist (admit it, you like this term); rather, I just have a particular preference, and when you geek up to engage in that preference, settling for something else is unfulfilling, regardless of the surface fulfillment.  I love scouting the New York-Penn League, but I already put a ring on the finger of my complex league sweetheart, and I’m monogamous despite having a wandering eye.

Last weekend, while walking to my neighborhood coffee place to overpay for some cold, caffeinated swill, my eyes caught a pack of youths dressed in matching apparel entering the local subway stop. My casual curiosity overcame my iced-coffee objective, and before I realized it, I was standing on the platform next to the top three players on the Dragons, a pre-teen Little League team that had a game that afternoon. The uniforms were fashion-forward, with charcoal tops and white pants with a darker charcoal stripe down the seam. The ball caps featured a large, white letter D in a confident font on a dark gray base; the cap shared the same charcoal gray as the pant stripe, but sun exposure had faded the color, leaving an aesthetically pleasing hue that resembled pewter. I assumed the boys were in the 10-12 age bracket based on their physical appearance and topics of discussion on the subway platform, which lacked the sophistication of a young teenager.

The remainder of this post cannot be viewed at this subscription level. Please click here to subscribe.

This is a BP Premium article. To read it, sign up for Premium today!

December 6, 2011 9:00 am

The BP Broadside: The Singular Love of Manny Ramirez

22

Steven Goldman

General managers would be wise to to avoid making a commitment to a player whose only real commitment is to himself.

As a foolish youth, envisioning life as a swashbuckling adventure akin to an Errol Flynn film rather than days of drudgery punctuated by bouts of physical and emotional constipation only occasionally relieved by moments of elation and release, I imagined that love was caring about someone more than you cared about yourself. My lady, I will do anything for you: take that bullet, throw my body in front of that train, and go to the store to buy you tampons at 3 AM.

This attitude tended to bring me into relationships with the wrong kind of women, specifically the ones who would let me do all of those things. They were beautiful, intelligent, witty—all wonderful things that draw me like a moth to a supernova to this very day—but they were also entirely willing to accept my extraordinary exertions on their behalf, radiating small doses of noncommittal affection and praise in return. There was always one more superhuman feat for me to perform—“Fetch me the singular lotus blossom that grows on the frozen top of Mons Olympus"—before I could receive the ultimate reward, which in this case was not sex (though that could be part of it), but the full expression and permanent possession of their love.

I never did get there. The insurmountable obstacle, I eventually realized, was that I was always competing with a rival I could never defeat, someone she would always love more than she loved me: herself. Thus, to go along with one of my cardinal rules of existence:

The remainder of this post cannot be viewed at this subscription level. Please click here to subscribe.

A trip through online archives reveals that the history of baseball's pun-happy headlines isn't as old as that of the game itself.

Peripheral vascular disease is what is known as a disease of affluence. Such diseases tend to correlate positively to a society’s wealth, so that a rising standard of living causes greater incidence of the disease. Peripheral vascular disease—which creates a narrowing of the arteries that supply the legs, and resulting pain, swelling and discoloration—is caused by hypertension, high cholesterol, diabetes, and obesity, all of which are also diseases of affluence. Asthma is a disease of affluence. Gout is a disease of affluence.

Puns in baseball headlines are a disease of affluence. One hundred years ago, nobody would have ever thought to use a headline like this:

Read the full article...

This is a BP Premium article. To read it, sign up for Premium today!

June 8, 2010 7:00 am

Another Look: Baseball Truly is a Funny Game

15

Bob Hertzel

Players have always been quick to come up with quips, dating back to the days of Babe Ruth.

It was Art Linkletter, one of the great personalities from the early days of television, who created quite a franchise through a show and book entitled Kids Say the Darndest Things. Linkletter would talk to grade school-aged kids and draw out some classic responses. Cover baseball for a while and you find out that isn’t only kids who say the darndest things.

Of all the athletes, baseball players have always been by far the best at coming up with classic lines. Maybe it’s all the time they have to think of things to say, but it was probably more as Roy Campanella, the great Brooklyn Dodgers catcher, pegged it when he noted, “you have to have a lot of little boy in you to play baseball.”

The remainder of this post cannot be viewed at this subscription level. Please click here to subscribe.

The former Royal and present and future Renaissance man shines a light on his baseball past.

Al Fitzmorris didn't win a Cy Young Award in his 10 seasons as a major league pitcher, but he just might win a Grammy or an Oscar someday. A middle-of-the-rotation sinkerballer who was mostly with the Royals in a career stretching from 1969-1978, Fitzmorris is now a creative entrepreneur, having traded in the baseball life for documentaries, stage musicals, rock and roll, and more. An analyst on Royals' broadcasts for several years after hanging up his spikes, Fitzmorris had his best seasons in 1975 and 1976, when he won 16 and 15 games respectively. Fitzmorris talked about his life in the game during the Ball Four era, including his memories of Amos Otis and Lou Piniella, and the many projects that he immerses himself in today.

Read the full article...

This is a BP Premium article. To read it, sign up for Premium today!

May 25, 2004 12:00 am

Transaction Analysis: May 20-24, 2004

0

Christina Kahrl

Zack Greinke finally gets the call in Kansas City. Jason Giambi hits the DL for the Yanks. Richie Sexson comes off and returns to the DL for the D'backs within a matter of days. Ben Petrick retires after revealing he's been battling a horrible disease for the past three years. And Dennis Tankersley gets another shot in San Diego. All this and much more news from around the league in your Tuesday edition of Transaction Analysis.

The remainder of this post cannot be viewed at this subscription level. Please click here to subscribe.

This is a BP Premium article. To read it, sign up for Premium today!

April 13, 2004 12:00 am

Teams: A Critical Guide: April 5-11

0

Steven Goldman

This week's grades are based on getaways, fast, slow, or N/A, with a healthy allowance for the biases that a small sample size encourages. In other words, we can call Victor Zambrano the Cy Young award winner after just three starts and excuse it as a moment of vernally-inspired hormonal exuberance. Still, with just one week in the bag every team on this list has been possessed by Chicken Little-style paranoia or Pollyannaish optimism, and their plans are being altered accordingly. Maybe you can't trust TEAMS this week, but you can't trust teams either. Caveat lector, caveat emptor, and laissez les bon temps rouler!

This week's grades are based on getaways, fast, slow, or N/A, with a healthy allowance for the biases that a small sample size encourages. In other words, we can call Victor Zambrano the Cy Young award winner after just three starts and excuse it as a moment of vernally-inspired hormonal exuberance. Still, with just one week in the bag every team on this list has been possessed by Chicken Little-style paranoia or Pollyannaish optimism, and their plans are being altered accordingly. Maybe you can't trust TEAMS this week, but you can't trust teams either. Caveat lector, caveat emptor, and laissez les bon temps rouler!

The remainder of this post cannot be viewed at this subscription level. Please click here to subscribe.

No Previous Tag Entries No More Tag Entries