Kids, this month marks the four year anniversary of the Studly Pastures.
That's a long time to be breeding unicorns and making water cooler comments about life and if you've been reading, clearly my sanity has been affected. Sacrifices have been made and feelings have been hurt over the years but, hey, anything for you, my loyal, faceless entities. I'm definitely not the type to benefit from hearing himself talk. I get absolutely nothing from this and it's most definitely NOT a log of my own hubris.
You know that song, "You're So Vain"? Carly Simon wrote that about me. I'm sure of it.
But hey, I'm no dummy. I know I'm not perfect! I still breathe oxygen like the rest of you (except for the fish people). I've gotten rid of the need for consuming food and excreting waste but the oxygen thing still eludes me. It might take me another four years but eventually I'll get that oxygen thing figured out too! (then I'll finally be just like you high and mighty fish people).
Anyways, enough about me, let's get to what's made me so famous over the last four years: judging people solely based off of my own crazy perception of reality!
Dwight Howard has decided he wants to go and play for the Houston Rockets and we can all finally remove the tape from our eyelids and blink again. Why the Houston Rockets? He thinks that they can be contenders with him on the team. While everybody outside of Houston has just shit their pants from laughing too hard (I've seen it happen) let's try and look at this a little seriously--but there's a small problem. Dwight Howard doesn't take anything seriously. Remember when he first started playing for Orlando and he kept smiling all the time and everybody thought, "Hey, here's a nice guy who truly enjoys playing the game!" Well, you are all idiots. Dwight Howard was smiling because somebody made a fart joke or said the word 'titty' or something. Dwight Howard is a child. He doesn't care about trophies or legacy or anything remotely important in the game of basketball. He cares about everybody talking about Dwight Howard and he's getting it! Every single day! Even from me! ARGHHHHHHH!
I'm not going to make some lame 'Houston, we have a problem' joke because I kinda just did anyways but it's not going to work out! In today's NBA you need at least a third player, maybe even a decent fourth, and Houston doesn't have it. It was thrown around that maybe they would try and get Josh Smith but he just signed with the Detroit Pistons. Uh oh.
Which, by the way, I would love to have seen THAT business deal. "Hey Josh, ummm, we don't have anything." Whoever negotiated this deal needs to come and be my lawyer because he's probably the Hypno-toad from Futurama.
Oh but hey everything is shifting into place for 2014 when all the big names will be free agents again and all these teams will have cap space and...and...OH MY GOD MY EYES ARE BLEEDING! I absolutely hate that mentality. I hate to get all kindergarten on you but be the best you can be...today!
Enough basketball, it's July for crying out loud. Let's give the people what they want on this joyous of occasions and talk tennis.
Andy Murray has won Wimbledon this year to be the first Brit to hoist the trophy since 1936. I'm amazed. Not that he won but that it has taken over 70 years for Great Britain to win their own freakin' tournament. Relax, kids, I'm not ignorant, I know that tennis was invented by the French and not the British (you're welcome) but Wimbledon has been a British institution since 1877 and is the OLDEST tennis tournament in the world.
70 years? 70 years?! Could you imagine an American not winning the Daytona 500 for 70 years? The repercussions from something like that would be catastrophic. There's one thing you don't do and that's piss off rednecks. If they decided to revolt I'd be screwed. Not because I'd look terrible in a mullet but that Bud heavy tastes like copper wiring that's been soaked in moose piss. But if it's the only beer left in the fridge...
70 years. I hope this isn't a 'Portrait of Dorian Gray' type of thing where now that the curse is broken the Queen will lose her immortality. (Relax, I don't have that many British readers)
Well, here we are, kids. Four years later. In all seriousness, as much as I love hearing my own voice through my writing...if you've read a single line, or even a whole post, if you've giggled, chuckled or just slightly smirked just once...then it's been worth it. Thanks for making me feel like I'm not talking to the wall, my dear faceless entities.
Monday, July 8, 2013
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
Warning: Contains Expletives
Well kids, the dreaded month of June is almost over and I simply cannot wait.
As a wee lad roaming the luscious green fields and prairies of America's heartland and blah blah blah...I hate the summer time. Get ready for two months of strictly baseball highlights and hot dog eating contests. While I do like baseball, I really only like MY team and could give two craps about the awesome play some other team made, Sportscenter. Oh, Manny Machado made a cool grab on a blooper? I'm just upset that his wrist didn't snap. Hey, Ichiro Suzuki hit a walk-off home run? Even Yankee fans find that appalling.
The College World Series might as well be daytime television. It's confusing, boring, and the named characters always prevail. I'm pretty sure UCLA won and I say pretty sure because the format on how they determine a winner is pretty much how the BCS rankings work: it's purely random. Kudos to UCLA but I'm sure the congratulatory card from John Wooden would have read, "Congrats on your first title, UCLA baseball, I think it's really cute."
Hockey is over and I say this with full respect but THANK GOODNESS. I'm sorry, I'm not a hockey fan, but I love hockey fans. I understand your admiration and genuine love so I get pissed off when Gary Bettman decides to dick around with that. I don't hate hockey, I hate Bettman, and I hate the system that he's currently utilizing. When a great event like the Stanley Cup finals rolls around, and Bettman is presiding, and fans are going nuts, and television ratings are high, I can't help but think, "You FOOLS! This is what he wanted all along!"
However, if you find yourself locked in a room with David Stern, Gary Bettman, and Satan with a loaded pistol with two bullets (I will probably find myself in this scenario), what you do is shoot Bettman twice and try to convince Satan that Stern is after his job. That's right, the NBA is done now too. Kudos to San Antonio for collectively shitting the bed and letting, er, um, excuse me, "letting" LeBron hold claim to his second title. But most importantly is that Stern now goes into his "nesting" period to prepare for next year's harvest. I'm still not convinced that he's retiring. Taking David Stern away from the NBA commissioner job is like taking Paula Deen away from a man that shits butter...they aren't going anywhere until your ass is chewed off. I won't even be satisfied when he does step down because he's probably just manipulating someone more powerful than him to upset the balance in the force. And if you didn't get that blatant Star Wars reference here's the gist: I think that David Stern is the Sith Lord.
Now back to the MLB. It's June. The Tampa Bay Rays play in the AL East (the best division in baseball) and I'm supposed to care over the peanut squabbling? Come talk to me in the fall when shit gets real and I start drinking because the Dolphins are doing so terribly and the Rays are on the cusp but juuuuuuusssst can't seem to reach it.
So what do we do until the NFL comes back? Hell if I know. All I know is that the Studly Pastures anniversary is coming up in a couple weeks and I feel like the fat girl on the couch, wearing sweat pants, and crying into a gallon of mint chocolate chip ice cream (I chose that flavor because if you don't like it, you're a weirdo).
Maybe we should get a hobby. I mean, working here on the unicorn stud farms tends to take up most of my day, but there's always the quiet aftermath. What then? I heard dream catchers are a fun project. But that's kind of lame and then after you make them, what are you going to do? Hang them on your wall? Get a booth at the flea market? You can't do that and expect people to still talk to you.
Alright kids, just grab a cold one, hunker down and watch some Netflix (they aren't paying me, I swear) and I will be back in July to celebrate myself. Take care.
As a wee lad roaming the luscious green fields and prairies of America's heartland and blah blah blah...I hate the summer time. Get ready for two months of strictly baseball highlights and hot dog eating contests. While I do like baseball, I really only like MY team and could give two craps about the awesome play some other team made, Sportscenter. Oh, Manny Machado made a cool grab on a blooper? I'm just upset that his wrist didn't snap. Hey, Ichiro Suzuki hit a walk-off home run? Even Yankee fans find that appalling.
The College World Series might as well be daytime television. It's confusing, boring, and the named characters always prevail. I'm pretty sure UCLA won and I say pretty sure because the format on how they determine a winner is pretty much how the BCS rankings work: it's purely random. Kudos to UCLA but I'm sure the congratulatory card from John Wooden would have read, "Congrats on your first title, UCLA baseball, I think it's really cute."
Hockey is over and I say this with full respect but THANK GOODNESS. I'm sorry, I'm not a hockey fan, but I love hockey fans. I understand your admiration and genuine love so I get pissed off when Gary Bettman decides to dick around with that. I don't hate hockey, I hate Bettman, and I hate the system that he's currently utilizing. When a great event like the Stanley Cup finals rolls around, and Bettman is presiding, and fans are going nuts, and television ratings are high, I can't help but think, "You FOOLS! This is what he wanted all along!"
However, if you find yourself locked in a room with David Stern, Gary Bettman, and Satan with a loaded pistol with two bullets (I will probably find myself in this scenario), what you do is shoot Bettman twice and try to convince Satan that Stern is after his job. That's right, the NBA is done now too. Kudos to San Antonio for collectively shitting the bed and letting, er, um, excuse me, "letting" LeBron hold claim to his second title. But most importantly is that Stern now goes into his "nesting" period to prepare for next year's harvest. I'm still not convinced that he's retiring. Taking David Stern away from the NBA commissioner job is like taking Paula Deen away from a man that shits butter...they aren't going anywhere until your ass is chewed off. I won't even be satisfied when he does step down because he's probably just manipulating someone more powerful than him to upset the balance in the force. And if you didn't get that blatant Star Wars reference here's the gist: I think that David Stern is the Sith Lord.
Now back to the MLB. It's June. The Tampa Bay Rays play in the AL East (the best division in baseball) and I'm supposed to care over the peanut squabbling? Come talk to me in the fall when shit gets real and I start drinking because the Dolphins are doing so terribly and the Rays are on the cusp but juuuuuuusssst can't seem to reach it.
So what do we do until the NFL comes back? Hell if I know. All I know is that the Studly Pastures anniversary is coming up in a couple weeks and I feel like the fat girl on the couch, wearing sweat pants, and crying into a gallon of mint chocolate chip ice cream (I chose that flavor because if you don't like it, you're a weirdo).
Maybe we should get a hobby. I mean, working here on the unicorn stud farms tends to take up most of my day, but there's always the quiet aftermath. What then? I heard dream catchers are a fun project. But that's kind of lame and then after you make them, what are you going to do? Hang them on your wall? Get a booth at the flea market? You can't do that and expect people to still talk to you.
Alright kids, just grab a cold one, hunker down and watch some Netflix (they aren't paying me, I swear) and I will be back in July to celebrate myself. Take care.
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
The Hammer To Fall
Well hello there, Alex Rodriguez and Ryan Braun, how nice to see you again!
And I only greet you so warmly because you are the first...and most expected. I can't wait for the others.
Kids, take notice, this is what happens when you make your personal foundation out of balsa wood. As much as I think (know) that Bud Selig is a figure-head and that Major League Baseball is more of a "Aw crap, we shouldn't have done that" instead of a "Hey, here's things we should look out for" type of business, I do have to give them the credit that in this dark time for the sport they WILL NOT subject new youth to the same poison that fell in love with them before the steroids era.
I truly believe that they have forsaken the reasons that they got into trouble to begin with and are now on the path to...eh, somewhat redemption. Witch-hunt? Of course. Hammer is falling, need scape-goats? Check. But do I think MLB is on the right track? Absolutely.
I was a kid when McGwire and Sosa were challenging each other for the season home run title and I was captivated. Then I was a teenager when whispers came out about that maybe they weren't doing it just themselves. Then I found myself pursuing a career in sports journalism. Thanks to them? No, not even. This piece is not even meant to be nostalgic. I went down the path of sports journalism because of my mother, so forward all emails to her.
I'm rambling, I'm not supposed to, but the point is that I watched the rise and the "rise" and the fall. And the supposed "rise" from that fall. But we've been falling for a long time, they've just been waiting to finally nail the last dirt bags. Well, kids, I think we got 'em.
Tony Bosch, the ring-leader behind the whole Miami-based PED (really? you don't know what this means? fine...it's performance enhancing drug, you big weirdo) is going to comply with federal investigators and implicate long time expected PED (see above) users and finally give them their just desserts.
Careful, let's not get ahead of ourselves just like, for example, ESPN. Calm down, ESPN, you are drooling. Relax a bit.
Tony Bosch is the equivalent to that guy on the Sopranos that denies and denies and is finally pinched by the feds and all of a sudden has all this information. Not exactly a reliable source, probably just some guy looking out for his own two bits.
Tony Bosch will end up being the legal nail in the coffin but haven't we already had enough? Do we really still look at A-Rod's home runs and legitimately nod our heads? When Ryan Braun's test came back "inconclusive" and he avoided suspension, did we assume he was innocent? No. Not even close. Major League Baseball and steroids is a slippery slope. It doesn't matter what has been proven, it matters if your name is on the list or not.
Where have I heard this before?
McCarthyism aside, here are some facts:
1. There are baseball players that have been accused of using PEDs that have denied it.
2. There are baseball players that haven't been accused of using PEDs that are using PEDs.
3. There are baseball players that have been accused of using PEDs that aren't using them.
4. There are baseball players that haven't been accused of using PEDs that aren't using them.
Let's put aside the fear tactics. A-Rod, Braun, and whomever else they so choose to go after, are they dirty? Probably. Maybe. I think so.
How dumb would you feel though? I mean, not necessarily with A-Rod, because he's done everything in his power to show you he has terrible judgement...but Braun? Braun has gone out of his way to prove his innocence. He found loop holes in the PED test for crying out loud* (*author's discretion, not viable to being sued by Ryan Braun...or his lawyers...dammit...it doesn't matter, he'll find a loop hole).
A-Rod plays for the Yankees, he's clearly evil! He's smacking you in the face with it like he is trying to smack a baseball out of the glove of Bronson Arroyo. (Bronson Arroyo just smiled somewhere.)
Ryan Braun plays for the Brewers! The damn Milwaukee Brewers! What's his angle!? "Maybe they won't see me up here. - Ryan Braun"
I don't get it. What I do get is that for every sport and for every hero you have cheaters and loop holes and maybe we've nailed two of the biggest and maybe we haven't. And I'm sad. I mentioned it in an earlier post how little league world series kids announce A-Rod as their favorite baseball player and it makes me have to stifle my vomit while I'm watching ESPN2 and First Take isn't even on.
And maybe when we're young we just pick our heroes not knowing whether they stand for good or evil but because in our eyes that's the biggest person we can see. And as we grow, so do our visions with them, and our dreams and all of a sudden we see like them.
And that's how cults get started. A-Rod and Braun are dirty, kids, go out and play tee-ball.
And I only greet you so warmly because you are the first...and most expected. I can't wait for the others.
Kids, take notice, this is what happens when you make your personal foundation out of balsa wood. As much as I think (know) that Bud Selig is a figure-head and that Major League Baseball is more of a "Aw crap, we shouldn't have done that" instead of a "Hey, here's things we should look out for" type of business, I do have to give them the credit that in this dark time for the sport they WILL NOT subject new youth to the same poison that fell in love with them before the steroids era.
I truly believe that they have forsaken the reasons that they got into trouble to begin with and are now on the path to...eh, somewhat redemption. Witch-hunt? Of course. Hammer is falling, need scape-goats? Check. But do I think MLB is on the right track? Absolutely.
I was a kid when McGwire and Sosa were challenging each other for the season home run title and I was captivated. Then I was a teenager when whispers came out about that maybe they weren't doing it just themselves. Then I found myself pursuing a career in sports journalism. Thanks to them? No, not even. This piece is not even meant to be nostalgic. I went down the path of sports journalism because of my mother, so forward all emails to her.
I'm rambling, I'm not supposed to, but the point is that I watched the rise and the "rise" and the fall. And the supposed "rise" from that fall. But we've been falling for a long time, they've just been waiting to finally nail the last dirt bags. Well, kids, I think we got 'em.
Tony Bosch, the ring-leader behind the whole Miami-based PED (really? you don't know what this means? fine...it's performance enhancing drug, you big weirdo) is going to comply with federal investigators and implicate long time expected PED (see above) users and finally give them their just desserts.
Careful, let's not get ahead of ourselves just like, for example, ESPN. Calm down, ESPN, you are drooling. Relax a bit.
Tony Bosch is the equivalent to that guy on the Sopranos that denies and denies and is finally pinched by the feds and all of a sudden has all this information. Not exactly a reliable source, probably just some guy looking out for his own two bits.
Tony Bosch will end up being the legal nail in the coffin but haven't we already had enough? Do we really still look at A-Rod's home runs and legitimately nod our heads? When Ryan Braun's test came back "inconclusive" and he avoided suspension, did we assume he was innocent? No. Not even close. Major League Baseball and steroids is a slippery slope. It doesn't matter what has been proven, it matters if your name is on the list or not.
Where have I heard this before?
McCarthyism aside, here are some facts:
1. There are baseball players that have been accused of using PEDs that have denied it.
2. There are baseball players that haven't been accused of using PEDs that are using PEDs.
3. There are baseball players that have been accused of using PEDs that aren't using them.
4. There are baseball players that haven't been accused of using PEDs that aren't using them.
Let's put aside the fear tactics. A-Rod, Braun, and whomever else they so choose to go after, are they dirty? Probably. Maybe. I think so.
How dumb would you feel though? I mean, not necessarily with A-Rod, because he's done everything in his power to show you he has terrible judgement...but Braun? Braun has gone out of his way to prove his innocence. He found loop holes in the PED test for crying out loud* (*author's discretion, not viable to being sued by Ryan Braun...or his lawyers...dammit...it doesn't matter, he'll find a loop hole).
A-Rod plays for the Yankees, he's clearly evil! He's smacking you in the face with it like he is trying to smack a baseball out of the glove of Bronson Arroyo. (Bronson Arroyo just smiled somewhere.)
Ryan Braun plays for the Brewers! The damn Milwaukee Brewers! What's his angle!? "Maybe they won't see me up here. - Ryan Braun"
I don't get it. What I do get is that for every sport and for every hero you have cheaters and loop holes and maybe we've nailed two of the biggest and maybe we haven't. And I'm sad. I mentioned it in an earlier post how little league world series kids announce A-Rod as their favorite baseball player and it makes me have to stifle my vomit while I'm watching ESPN2 and First Take isn't even on.
And maybe when we're young we just pick our heroes not knowing whether they stand for good or evil but because in our eyes that's the biggest person we can see. And as we grow, so do our visions with them, and our dreams and all of a sudden we see like them.
And that's how cults get started. A-Rod and Braun are dirty, kids, go out and play tee-ball.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
The Great Divide
I've never meant for the Studly Pastures to be any sort of platform for religious debate because I like making jokes (and even that little line has gotten me in hot water, it's really a fine line).
Look kids, let's get it all out in the open right now. Let us both put our cards on the table. I fully support freedom of religion...to an extent. You can pray to whoever you want to but when you start using your religion to preach hate, well, now you and I have a problem.
Disclaimer: Just because I disagree with you, or you with me, doesn't mean I automatically hate you. This isn't high school.
Jason Collins breaks the barrier and becomes the first active player in one of the four major American sports to announce that he's gay. Then the sides formed.
Hundreds (estimation based off of lack of research) came out in support of Collins, calling him 'brave' and almost immediately inducted him into civil rights lore as a hero. To make the decision to truly be yourself and not hide from who you are is brave and for that I do commend Jason Collins. But let's calm down just a little bit and not put him on the mountain just yet with Harriet Tubman and Martin Luther King. He came out in Sports Illustrated, is currently a free agent, and has been on six teams in 12 years.
But this had to happen, I'm glad it did, and I'm disappointed that it took until 2013. The reason why it took so long is because the intelligence quotient of the general population is rather small and therefore they are frightened very easily. Small steps and deep breaths.
But there are detractors--and they don't necessarily mean to be--it's what their religion demands. Chris Broussard, ESPN reporter, who I've flamed on here before for his inability to report anything, is now in trouble with me for something completely different.
Broussard declared that being gay was an "open rebellion to God." I'm sorry, I thought this was Outside The Lines on ESPN, not the 700 club. Broussard is entitled to his religion and his opinion but it would be in his best interest if he keeps that stuff to himself, or at the very least, off the air under the title of his employer.
It's not that I don't want Chris Broussard to practice his religion it's that whenever I turn to him I expect to hear some form of really shitty insider NBA information. He never knows anything about anybody and I find that to be slightly entertaining when I listen to other analysts prattle on about San Antonio or Miami or any other team I could care less about. I consider Chris Broussard to be the Dane Cook of religion. He's pretty much just stealing material and making me hate even the sight of his face.
Being gay seems like a pretty roundabout way to rebel against God. I would just renounce Him, you know, in place of all the sodomy.
Am I the only one around here who first saw the 'Breaking News' and thought 'Oh crap, what now?' only to see that Jason Collins announces he's gay and then breathe a sigh of relief and think 'That's it?'
That's not breaking news. A gay guy announcing he's gay is the same as me announcing that I like breasts, which I did a couple of months ago. GOOD FOR YOU BUT NOBODY CARES! That should be a sticker they give out in kindergarten. I want to live in that world. Hey, that guy is gay...let's move on. BOOM. That simple.
Is Collins right or is Broussard right? The answer is they both are but they should stop standing on pedestals when they talk. They still poop like the rest of us.
Look kids, let's get it all out in the open right now. Let us both put our cards on the table. I fully support freedom of religion...to an extent. You can pray to whoever you want to but when you start using your religion to preach hate, well, now you and I have a problem.
Disclaimer: Just because I disagree with you, or you with me, doesn't mean I automatically hate you. This isn't high school.
Jason Collins breaks the barrier and becomes the first active player in one of the four major American sports to announce that he's gay. Then the sides formed.
Hundreds (estimation based off of lack of research) came out in support of Collins, calling him 'brave' and almost immediately inducted him into civil rights lore as a hero. To make the decision to truly be yourself and not hide from who you are is brave and for that I do commend Jason Collins. But let's calm down just a little bit and not put him on the mountain just yet with Harriet Tubman and Martin Luther King. He came out in Sports Illustrated, is currently a free agent, and has been on six teams in 12 years.
But this had to happen, I'm glad it did, and I'm disappointed that it took until 2013. The reason why it took so long is because the intelligence quotient of the general population is rather small and therefore they are frightened very easily. Small steps and deep breaths.
But there are detractors--and they don't necessarily mean to be--it's what their religion demands. Chris Broussard, ESPN reporter, who I've flamed on here before for his inability to report anything, is now in trouble with me for something completely different.
Broussard declared that being gay was an "open rebellion to God." I'm sorry, I thought this was Outside The Lines on ESPN, not the 700 club. Broussard is entitled to his religion and his opinion but it would be in his best interest if he keeps that stuff to himself, or at the very least, off the air under the title of his employer.
It's not that I don't want Chris Broussard to practice his religion it's that whenever I turn to him I expect to hear some form of really shitty insider NBA information. He never knows anything about anybody and I find that to be slightly entertaining when I listen to other analysts prattle on about San Antonio or Miami or any other team I could care less about. I consider Chris Broussard to be the Dane Cook of religion. He's pretty much just stealing material and making me hate even the sight of his face.
Being gay seems like a pretty roundabout way to rebel against God. I would just renounce Him, you know, in place of all the sodomy.
Am I the only one around here who first saw the 'Breaking News' and thought 'Oh crap, what now?' only to see that Jason Collins announces he's gay and then breathe a sigh of relief and think 'That's it?'
That's not breaking news. A gay guy announcing he's gay is the same as me announcing that I like breasts, which I did a couple of months ago. GOOD FOR YOU BUT NOBODY CARES! That should be a sticker they give out in kindergarten. I want to live in that world. Hey, that guy is gay...let's move on. BOOM. That simple.
Is Collins right or is Broussard right? The answer is they both are but they should stop standing on pedestals when they talk. They still poop like the rest of us.
Monday, April 29, 2013
You Done Crossed The Line
If I could choose to be reborn in this world I would choose to come back as a baseball umpire and be granted immunity for all of my mistakes that I would ever make. Controversy would ensue, including the fuel behind this blog, and I would win twice! Hah!
What in the holy Hell is Tom Hallion thinking? You can't curse at a player! Don't you get it? Are you confused as to what role you play in baseball? You're an umpire and you're above judgment! You cannot be touched, so why even bother letting a player get under your skin?
Hallion's problem extends further than yelling the F bomb at the Ray's David Price. Wait, wait...I'm sorry...I'm getting ahead of myself. I forget that not everybody reading this automatically follows the Tampa Bay Rays as if it's some sort of religion. Silly me. Let me fill you in.
Kids, yesterday the Tampa Bay Rays played the Chicago White Sox in a game of baseball...and I almost threw a bottle of scotch at the television for the level of autonomy that the umpires in baseball are given! Enter Tom Hallion, an umpire who has been around since 1985--the year I was born. If in my 27 years I can manage to string together a few coherent sentences that can actually be interpreted by the general public then I would assume someone doing their same job for the same amount of time could maintain some sort of professionalism.
And kids, I would be wrong.
David Price, starting pitcher for the Rays and reigning AL Cy Young award winner (and not that you would take my word for it but honestly a really, really good guy) was throwing pitches to Dewayne Wise, a hitter for the White Sox, last night when the umpire decided that he wasn't going to properly call balls and strikes anymore. That umpire was Tom Hallion.
Price thought he had delivered the necessary pitch to strike out Wise (because he did) but Hallion called it a ball. So Price threw again and Wise swung and missed. Price says that as he was walking back to the dugout he was talking angrily to himself over his struggles and apparently Hallion misconstrued it as directed to him. Price alleges that Hallion retaliated by yelling at Price, "Just throw it over the f------ plate!"
Hallion has already come out and called Price a 'liar' for the allegations and as the Rays dugout erupted to the supposed claim, Hallion even went so far as to eject Rays' pitcher Jeremy Hellickson for apparently reacting to an umpire cursing at a player he is currently umpiring! Hellickson, who I have never heard utter a discouraging word since his very first MLB start two years ago was apparently out of line. Give me a break.
This takes me back to the third grade when my art teacher told me to draw a picture of a duck and I gave my interpretation as a 'misunderstood mallard teenage rebel with a troubled past that he cannot escape'. I was so proud but then my teacher walked over and slapped me square in the face and said that ducks had rounded bills and not sharp beaks. When I went to the media I was debunked because my art teacher was the authority and I was just some kid who continually crapped his pants.
Pants-crapping aside, I hope that totalitarian view of the situation scared you into action. Three weeks ago I told you that umpires were abusing their power and going way, way too far. Now they're verbally berating players. A Major League Baseball umpire went on record and called a current player a 'liar'! Are you kidding? This cannot happen, even if he truly believes it and isn't just trying to cover his own ass, it CANNOT happen!
For this, Commissioner Bud Selig, I need retribution. David Price needs retribution. The Tampa Bay Rays need retribution. Hallion needs to be, at the very least, suspended. Players are fined every day when they complain to the media so why should he be any different when he came out and made such a bold claim as to call someone a LIAR!?
Look, I could care less what caliber of umpire that Hallion is, and there's plenty of statistics that people keep to show that he is, let's say, less than average as far as umpiring goes. People suck at their jobs. It happens. But when you suck at your job and yet you still go power hungry...well then you must be stopped.
If there is a fine line for every issue, consider this one leap-frogged over. If Hallion goes unpunished how can I feel comfortable having him umpire another Price start--or Hell--another Rays game at all? If he has the gall to name my guy as a liar what is stopping him from purposely making the wrong calls?
It's unfortunate but so is the world we live in. All hail the mighty umpire.
What in the holy Hell is Tom Hallion thinking? You can't curse at a player! Don't you get it? Are you confused as to what role you play in baseball? You're an umpire and you're above judgment! You cannot be touched, so why even bother letting a player get under your skin?
Hallion's problem extends further than yelling the F bomb at the Ray's David Price. Wait, wait...I'm sorry...I'm getting ahead of myself. I forget that not everybody reading this automatically follows the Tampa Bay Rays as if it's some sort of religion. Silly me. Let me fill you in.
Kids, yesterday the Tampa Bay Rays played the Chicago White Sox in a game of baseball...and I almost threw a bottle of scotch at the television for the level of autonomy that the umpires in baseball are given! Enter Tom Hallion, an umpire who has been around since 1985--the year I was born. If in my 27 years I can manage to string together a few coherent sentences that can actually be interpreted by the general public then I would assume someone doing their same job for the same amount of time could maintain some sort of professionalism.
And kids, I would be wrong.
David Price, starting pitcher for the Rays and reigning AL Cy Young award winner (and not that you would take my word for it but honestly a really, really good guy) was throwing pitches to Dewayne Wise, a hitter for the White Sox, last night when the umpire decided that he wasn't going to properly call balls and strikes anymore. That umpire was Tom Hallion.
Price thought he had delivered the necessary pitch to strike out Wise (because he did) but Hallion called it a ball. So Price threw again and Wise swung and missed. Price says that as he was walking back to the dugout he was talking angrily to himself over his struggles and apparently Hallion misconstrued it as directed to him. Price alleges that Hallion retaliated by yelling at Price, "Just throw it over the f------ plate!"
Hallion has already come out and called Price a 'liar' for the allegations and as the Rays dugout erupted to the supposed claim, Hallion even went so far as to eject Rays' pitcher Jeremy Hellickson for apparently reacting to an umpire cursing at a player he is currently umpiring! Hellickson, who I have never heard utter a discouraging word since his very first MLB start two years ago was apparently out of line. Give me a break.
This takes me back to the third grade when my art teacher told me to draw a picture of a duck and I gave my interpretation as a 'misunderstood mallard teenage rebel with a troubled past that he cannot escape'. I was so proud but then my teacher walked over and slapped me square in the face and said that ducks had rounded bills and not sharp beaks. When I went to the media I was debunked because my art teacher was the authority and I was just some kid who continually crapped his pants.
Pants-crapping aside, I hope that totalitarian view of the situation scared you into action. Three weeks ago I told you that umpires were abusing their power and going way, way too far. Now they're verbally berating players. A Major League Baseball umpire went on record and called a current player a 'liar'! Are you kidding? This cannot happen, even if he truly believes it and isn't just trying to cover his own ass, it CANNOT happen!
For this, Commissioner Bud Selig, I need retribution. David Price needs retribution. The Tampa Bay Rays need retribution. Hallion needs to be, at the very least, suspended. Players are fined every day when they complain to the media so why should he be any different when he came out and made such a bold claim as to call someone a LIAR!?
Look, I could care less what caliber of umpire that Hallion is, and there's plenty of statistics that people keep to show that he is, let's say, less than average as far as umpiring goes. People suck at their jobs. It happens. But when you suck at your job and yet you still go power hungry...well then you must be stopped.
If there is a fine line for every issue, consider this one leap-frogged over. If Hallion goes unpunished how can I feel comfortable having him umpire another Price start--or Hell--another Rays game at all? If he has the gall to name my guy as a liar what is stopping him from purposely making the wrong calls?
It's unfortunate but so is the world we live in. All hail the mighty umpire.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Back To The Draft
Another NFL Draft has come and gone, kids, and per usual it is bereft of things that normal people care about but rife with things that obsessive compulsors like me (and to an extent, you) can sit back and laugh a little at.
For example, let's start with me and my borderline 'cut myself obsession' with the Miami Dolphins. Well folks, they did it AGAIN! I sit here on the flip-side of another draft and I'm just puzzled at their continued actions to try and get me to renounce my fanship. Am I that big of a bad luck charm?
I don't know Dion Jordan. I have no idea what he's capable of or what he's already accomplished. He comes from Oregon, which is a Pac-12 school, which might as well be in a different country as far as I'm concerned because the only thing I know about the West Coast is that 60 Minutes never seems to air there (and that's a joke for East Coasters.)
I've heard that he could be an elite pass-rusher, and possibly the best defender in the draft, and if that turns out to be true I might be able to cry for the first time in my life out of sheer bewilderment. But my track record tells me that we might have gotten another Fuzzby.
You might recall that last year I lamented how Andrew Luck and RG3 were Furby's and as the poor kid on the block I got stuck with Ryan Tannehill, the Fuzzby. Now Tannehill played his little heart out and he gives hope to the future but he never did anything to prove to me that he wasn't a Fuzzby. The two Furby's went to the playoffs and Miami finished sub .500 yet again.
But the NFL is a team game more than any other sport and I know that you can't be expected to do it alone and so the Dolphins have made it a mission this off-season to get our Fuzzby some help. So we got him the fastest guy in the NFL to throw to, we beefed up our front seven on defense, and we drafted a kid that could be the perfect compliment to our quarterback pressure...or he could be the biggest bone-headed pick we ever made.
That's the thing about the NFL draft: It's the most publicized game of Russian Roulette that exists. Except when you are fan of the Miami Dolphins, the chamber holds five bullets instead of one.
The absolutely crazy thing about everything they have done this off-season is that--it might just actually mesh together perfectly. It's absolutely absurd to declare anything at this point, considering it's still April, but what if it works? What if, God-forgiving, they catch a lucky break? What if...they actually know what they are doing and it WORKS?!
I just got goosebumps. Gasp! What if the Miami Dolphins are actually good, to the point of actual competition? I wouldn't know what to do with the Pastures this year...retire it I guess.
But the world would be so much better if we all crapped gumdrops and lemon drops and blah blah blah. Let's keep our asses firmly on the ground and just assume that I know nothing about sports.
Tyrann Mathieu was drafted before Matt Barkley. Isn't that absolutely hilarious? The NFL thought the chronic rule breaker and pothead had better upside than Barkley.
They shouldn't have been so hard on Barkley, he was the victim of circumstance (shoulder injury) and of people giving him completely the wrong advice. He only came back for his senior year because of the influence of Lane Kiffin, which is not so much a testament to Barkley's poor judgment as it is to Kiffin's evilness. The guy, Kiffin, is such garbage that he's charging Oscar the Grouch rent (and that's a joke for the whole family.)
It's not Barkley's fault that he's followed in the footsteps of wash-outs like Matt Leinart and Mark Sanchez, and kinda Carson Palmer but not as much as the other two. Let him prove he can buck the trend. Don't slight the kid because of what a bunch of dumb, surfer bro's from SoCal have done so far.
Mathieu had it all in the palm of his hand and he rolled it up and smoked it all away...again...and again...and again. He doesn't deserve a second chance because he used that up a couple of years ago. Even cats are jealous of how many chances the Honey Badger gets (and that's a joke for all the lonely people.)
And at the end of the day, Mathieu goes to Arizona and Barkley goes to Philadelphia and absolutely nobody wins because both of those teams are complete crap.
We have time for one more pick that stood out to me and that belongs to my dear friends, the Lennie Smalls of the NFL, the Buffalo Bills (and finally a joke for the literary minds.) They took EJ Manuel at 16 overall. Let that sink in.
Now resume breathing.
After I was pounding beers after the Dion Jordan pick I was granted a reprieve when my rival Bills chose an even worse pick, which might have been the worst pick. Not only was Manuel considered a third round pick, at best, he is definitely a "project quarterback" which is something the Bills don't have the time or resources to commit to. Manuel needs to sit behind a valued veteran for at least a couple of years instead of being thrown to the dogs right away which is not going to happen in Buffalo.
It's a complete lose-lose situation but hey, what do I know? Nothing about sports.
Live long and prosper, kids.
For example, let's start with me and my borderline 'cut myself obsession' with the Miami Dolphins. Well folks, they did it AGAIN! I sit here on the flip-side of another draft and I'm just puzzled at their continued actions to try and get me to renounce my fanship. Am I that big of a bad luck charm?
I don't know Dion Jordan. I have no idea what he's capable of or what he's already accomplished. He comes from Oregon, which is a Pac-12 school, which might as well be in a different country as far as I'm concerned because the only thing I know about the West Coast is that 60 Minutes never seems to air there (and that's a joke for East Coasters.)
I've heard that he could be an elite pass-rusher, and possibly the best defender in the draft, and if that turns out to be true I might be able to cry for the first time in my life out of sheer bewilderment. But my track record tells me that we might have gotten another Fuzzby.
You might recall that last year I lamented how Andrew Luck and RG3 were Furby's and as the poor kid on the block I got stuck with Ryan Tannehill, the Fuzzby. Now Tannehill played his little heart out and he gives hope to the future but he never did anything to prove to me that he wasn't a Fuzzby. The two Furby's went to the playoffs and Miami finished sub .500 yet again.
But the NFL is a team game more than any other sport and I know that you can't be expected to do it alone and so the Dolphins have made it a mission this off-season to get our Fuzzby some help. So we got him the fastest guy in the NFL to throw to, we beefed up our front seven on defense, and we drafted a kid that could be the perfect compliment to our quarterback pressure...or he could be the biggest bone-headed pick we ever made.
That's the thing about the NFL draft: It's the most publicized game of Russian Roulette that exists. Except when you are fan of the Miami Dolphins, the chamber holds five bullets instead of one.
The absolutely crazy thing about everything they have done this off-season is that--it might just actually mesh together perfectly. It's absolutely absurd to declare anything at this point, considering it's still April, but what if it works? What if, God-forgiving, they catch a lucky break? What if...they actually know what they are doing and it WORKS?!
I just got goosebumps. Gasp! What if the Miami Dolphins are actually good, to the point of actual competition? I wouldn't know what to do with the Pastures this year...retire it I guess.
But the world would be so much better if we all crapped gumdrops and lemon drops and blah blah blah. Let's keep our asses firmly on the ground and just assume that I know nothing about sports.
Tyrann Mathieu was drafted before Matt Barkley. Isn't that absolutely hilarious? The NFL thought the chronic rule breaker and pothead had better upside than Barkley.
They shouldn't have been so hard on Barkley, he was the victim of circumstance (shoulder injury) and of people giving him completely the wrong advice. He only came back for his senior year because of the influence of Lane Kiffin, which is not so much a testament to Barkley's poor judgment as it is to Kiffin's evilness. The guy, Kiffin, is such garbage that he's charging Oscar the Grouch rent (and that's a joke for the whole family.)
It's not Barkley's fault that he's followed in the footsteps of wash-outs like Matt Leinart and Mark Sanchez, and kinda Carson Palmer but not as much as the other two. Let him prove he can buck the trend. Don't slight the kid because of what a bunch of dumb, surfer bro's from SoCal have done so far.
Mathieu had it all in the palm of his hand and he rolled it up and smoked it all away...again...and again...and again. He doesn't deserve a second chance because he used that up a couple of years ago. Even cats are jealous of how many chances the Honey Badger gets (and that's a joke for all the lonely people.)
And at the end of the day, Mathieu goes to Arizona and Barkley goes to Philadelphia and absolutely nobody wins because both of those teams are complete crap.
We have time for one more pick that stood out to me and that belongs to my dear friends, the Lennie Smalls of the NFL, the Buffalo Bills (and finally a joke for the literary minds.) They took EJ Manuel at 16 overall. Let that sink in.
Now resume breathing.
After I was pounding beers after the Dion Jordan pick I was granted a reprieve when my rival Bills chose an even worse pick, which might have been the worst pick. Not only was Manuel considered a third round pick, at best, he is definitely a "project quarterback" which is something the Bills don't have the time or resources to commit to. Manuel needs to sit behind a valued veteran for at least a couple of years instead of being thrown to the dogs right away which is not going to happen in Buffalo.
It's a complete lose-lose situation but hey, what do I know? Nothing about sports.
Live long and prosper, kids.
Monday, April 8, 2013
The Major League Dictatorship
You're killing me.
But seriously, you're KILLING US.
I consider myself a strong voice but that's only because I'm narcissistic beyond the normal human realm. In reality I am just a normal fan who happens to word things in a humorous and brilliant manner. See?
Well folks, here's what happened, the Rays started their long road trip against the scum bag Texas Rangers tonight and once again we were robbed in the ninth. The perpetrator this time however was not the Rangers players themselves but the umpiring staff acting on the behalf of the Texas Rangers.
First of all, I hate to play the 'what if' game but this is freaking baseball, the number one sport where 'what if' applies all of the time. Anything can happen at any time that's why they play all nine innings. Rallies, mojo, momentum, karma, will power, whatever you want to call it...I buy in. I subscribe to the magazine that writes about baseball players feeding off energy. Hell, I'm watching on television and I'm feeding off of it.
Second of all, human error is a part of sports. Yes, it is, and I have defended this practice since I was a wee lad. Now that I am a slightly bigger lad I hold the same principle but now it's more like, "Human error is a part of sports, sure, but now we have technology to be like, no, you're really wrong on that call." And because I know that technology exists, and that Major League Baseball has decided to use it for only certain things and not everything makes me want to stick my own head up my ass because then I would truly fit in.
It gets worse, however, because it's not everyday we have a confession. The umpire who apparently mistook the strike zone for his wife's ass (zing) took a second look, and by gosh oh golly oh gee, he wouldn't have called it a strike a second time.
Thanks. We all feel better now.
So, you admit you were wrong, and your initial call changed the outcome, but yet we can't do anything about this except shrug our shoulders?
Man, if only there was some overruling figure in baseball that would set little arguments like this to rest by just simply making a decision of his own for once in his life and allowing FULL REPLAY in baseball. But these are just dreams that are drifting away on the fart of a manatee. It falls on daft and deaf ears. He actually covers all the bases.
Bud Selig is too close to being Bud Selig for these last gratifying years that he simply can't make a move on replay in baseball right now. How could a commissioner who lead us through the Steroids Era ever make such a drastic move? This man had an All-Star game end in a tie. I would have rather he personally drove to my house and slapped me in my face and told me what a sucker I was for watching with such eager eyes and that I should be more cynical about things.
Forget about Selig. He's not important. The umpires made a mistake tonight, in game seven, and I'm just thankful that it wasn't Game Seven. I couldn't even imagine...but then again...maybe that's what it takes.
Goodnight, kids, Daddy is upset.
But seriously, you're KILLING US.
I consider myself a strong voice but that's only because I'm narcissistic beyond the normal human realm. In reality I am just a normal fan who happens to word things in a humorous and brilliant manner. See?
Well folks, here's what happened, the Rays started their long road trip against the scum bag Texas Rangers tonight and once again we were robbed in the ninth. The perpetrator this time however was not the Rangers players themselves but the umpiring staff acting on the behalf of the Texas Rangers.
First of all, I hate to play the 'what if' game but this is freaking baseball, the number one sport where 'what if' applies all of the time. Anything can happen at any time that's why they play all nine innings. Rallies, mojo, momentum, karma, will power, whatever you want to call it...I buy in. I subscribe to the magazine that writes about baseball players feeding off energy. Hell, I'm watching on television and I'm feeding off of it.
Second of all, human error is a part of sports. Yes, it is, and I have defended this practice since I was a wee lad. Now that I am a slightly bigger lad I hold the same principle but now it's more like, "Human error is a part of sports, sure, but now we have technology to be like, no, you're really wrong on that call." And because I know that technology exists, and that Major League Baseball has decided to use it for only certain things and not everything makes me want to stick my own head up my ass because then I would truly fit in.
It gets worse, however, because it's not everyday we have a confession. The umpire who apparently mistook the strike zone for his wife's ass (zing) took a second look, and by gosh oh golly oh gee, he wouldn't have called it a strike a second time.
Thanks. We all feel better now.
So, you admit you were wrong, and your initial call changed the outcome, but yet we can't do anything about this except shrug our shoulders?
Man, if only there was some overruling figure in baseball that would set little arguments like this to rest by just simply making a decision of his own for once in his life and allowing FULL REPLAY in baseball. But these are just dreams that are drifting away on the fart of a manatee. It falls on daft and deaf ears. He actually covers all the bases.
Bud Selig is too close to being Bud Selig for these last gratifying years that he simply can't make a move on replay in baseball right now. How could a commissioner who lead us through the Steroids Era ever make such a drastic move? This man had an All-Star game end in a tie. I would have rather he personally drove to my house and slapped me in my face and told me what a sucker I was for watching with such eager eyes and that I should be more cynical about things.
Forget about Selig. He's not important. The umpires made a mistake tonight, in game seven, and I'm just thankful that it wasn't Game Seven. I couldn't even imagine...but then again...maybe that's what it takes.
Goodnight, kids, Daddy is upset.
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