Nicholson had been a rock in the Cubs’ lineup since his arrival with the team in 1939.
Mary delivers the rallying speech of an All-Star hopeful, while Patrick writes a pastiche about a rain delay.
Matt dissects a Jose Altuve commercial, Craig dissects a Jered Weaver tweet, and Mary unmasks the robots behind the plate.
Emma wonders if Juan Samuel missed a chance to break a nonexistent rule, Mary follows a conveyor belt to its unnatural conclusion, and Matt relays some earthly sightseeing.
Matt applies tunneling stats to Robert Frost; Mary gives Scooter Gennett an origin story; and Patrick defends whimsy.
It’s no secret that Theo Epstein has been enamoured by Anthony Rizzo for the entirety of Rizzo’s career.
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.
Zack continues his bemused exploration of baseball anime, while Mary combs through the ashes to preview the upcoming Red Sox-Orioles series.
Mary foretells the downfall of the Mets, and Matt does some research just for you.
The origin story of Marlins Man, Padres Fall Apart, and the moral certitude of Bronson Arroyo.
Patrick teaches The Youth how to grip various pitches; Mary remarks on the sad story of Wayland Dean; and Matt declares his favorite baseball number.
Matt calculates all AL East animosity, Mary provides background for a Jon Jay slide, and James looks for signs of disappointing starts.
Take a moment to celebrate the greatest, and only, Orel in baseball history.
Mary discovers a world delivered to Hitler by baseball, Kate watches a rabbit destroy the human facade, and Emma searches for Lithuanian baseball and winds up in Boston.
Matt ranks the current Orioles first base depth chart, Mary looks at a former two-way player and thinks of new ways, and Annie enjoys an old, familiar feeling.