Short Relief continues its paean to forgotten players of yesterday, this time especially forgotten.
The hunt for the next big thing, the next big story, or just the comfort of home.
James offers speculation over how Kris Bryant’s day ended, Martin makes a game out of Tim McCarver’s began, and Patrick doesn’t think Bo Jackson is the best two-sport athlete ever.
How critiquing baseball players feels like critiquing indie bands, the muddy half-fashioned future crafted in youth, and baseball’s role in the tremulous bonds of adult friendship.
Three tales of creation: Holly with a Dial-An-Art service, James with the hellscape of tomorrow, and Meg with the psychological evaluation of a strike zone.
Holly and James look at two different umpiring crises, one averted; while Meg learns that Randy Johnson’s home theater has a name.
Meg finds a rule and fights to break it, James puts Kevin Millar’s HR into context, and Holly looks at Philly hit streaks.
Meg wonders what Joey Votto’s deal is for a second, while Holly and James dive into marketing strategies for baseball, which attain varying levels of success.
James reacts to Braves players reacting to things, Jason has elections on his mind, and Mary tells teh story of a lady’s first ballgame.
The origin story of Marlins Man, Padres Fall Apart, and the moral certitude of Bronson Arroyo.
Matt calculates all AL East animosity, Mary provides background for a Jon Jay slide, and James looks for signs of disappointing starts.
A Brewers prospects gets a lesson in justice, minor league teams carve out niche markets through naming, and baseball history, told by the players who made it.
A cat who walked through stadiums, the philosophy of failure in the postgame clubhouse, a Cincinnati Red-based mantra, and the hacking of baseball.
Crying and baseball, Allen Iverson, Braves spokesperson, and Zack Greinke vs. Madison Bumgarner.
James breaks out the crack analysis to break down your manager ejection fantasy draft, Nathan smirks along with Chase Utley, and Patrick creates an an identity crisis.
Zack takes on one of baseball’s favorite cliches, while David and Tommy Pham cling stubbornly to their souls.