Labels: Bandwagon Burt
By Bandwagon Burt
Wind Sock
The time of the year has come when writers from all over the place try to tell us who should be in the baseball Hall of Fame. Since there aren't too many obvious choices like Cal Ripken and Tony Gwynn (BEST FAT GUY EVER!) last year, this might be the year that people finally give some love to dudes who get snubbed every year.
I don't have a vote, but I do have a list of the guys who should be in the Hall. YOU LISTENING, COOPERSTOWN? Why is the Hall of Fame in a shitty little New York town anyway? Put it somewhere more accessible, like Los Angeles or Bristol, Connecticut!
My list.
1. Goose Gossage. Goooooooooooooooose. He had the crazy mustache and he KICKED ASS as a closer. He had the best decade as a closer of anybody who's ever marched in to gimmicky rock songs in the ninth inning. (BEST CLOSER SONG EVER: "Janie's Got a Gun" by Aerosmith). He pitched a ton of innings, too, and got 310 saves and 124 victories. HE DOMINATED.
2. Lee Smith. He had 478 saves. HELLO THAT'S THE MOST IN HISTORY. Seven-time All Star, top five in saves 11 times. He's like the Cal Ripken of saves!
3. Andre Dawson. Everybody always wants to talk about on-base percentage, but let's look at stats that don't require three high-powered computers to calculate. He had 438 home runs and 1,591 RBIs, AND he had 8 gold gloves. Plus, they called him Hawk, because if you didn't vote for him for the Hall of Fame, he would swoop down on your ass and peck you to death with his beak. Then eat you.
4. Jack Morris. BLACK JACK. Or was that a different Jack pitcher? Whatever. He had 254 wins, which is way more than a lot of guys who are Hall of Fame worthy, including Johan Santana. He had a career 2.96 ERA in the WORLD SERIES, and he was among the top five in wins five times in the American League. Plus, he was scary! VOTE BLACK JACK TO THE DANCE.
5. Jim Rice. Why does everyone call him Jim Ed? That's stupid. Is that like Phys Ed or Jim Class? Maybe it's because he was so athletic. Or it's because, he has 382 career home runs, eight all-star appearances, top five votes in the MVP five times, top five in RBI seven times and played for the BOSTON RED SOX. He hasn't been voted in yet, because he's black.
6. Bert Blyleven. DID PEOPLE FORGET THAT BERT BLYLEVEN PLAYED BASEBALL? He ranks fifth in career strikeouts, eighth in shutouts, 17th in wins, and everyone who ranks ahead of him in those categories is in the Hall of Fame or still ineligible for the Hall, except Tommy John, who is in the Hall of Accidental Fame. Just because he didn't win 300 games is soooo stupid. I'll circle you, Bert!
7. Dale Murphy. He won the MVP two times, during which he dominated everybody in baseball. Just because he didn't stick around that long doesn't mean you should forget greatness. WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? Also, I read that he's ambidextrous. He might be the first ambidextrous guy in the Hall of Fame! I WOULD TOTALLY VISIT THAT EXHIBIT.
8. Keith Hernandez. Do people not vote him in because he was on Seinfeld all those times? That's a shitty reason. Best fielding first baseman ever! I challenge you to come up with a better fielder than Keith Hernandez. Ozzie was in the Hall of Fame for fielding, and so is Willie Mays, so why not Keith? I'M KEITH HERNANDEZ
9. Ron Santo. He was one of the best third basemen for many decades, and he did it all without his real legs. How come Tommy John gets all kinds of credit for being the first to tear his rotator cuff, but nobody talks about Santo's accomplishments?
10. Dave Concepcion. Best all-around shortstop of his generation, and he was a member of the Big Red Machine. He stole a ton of bases, made a ton of great plays in the field, and has numbers similar to some other Hall of Famers. PUT HIM IN THE HALL.
11. Dave Parker. He won an MVP, a couple batting championships and sang "We Are Family" while snorting cocaine and hitting home runs. Trust me, I'm speaking from experience, that is HARD TO DO! I want an old-school Pirates uniform for my birthday.
12. Donnie Ballgame. Mattingly would have been the next great manager of the New York Yankees, but George Steinbrenner is CRAZY. He was an MVP and won nine Gold Gloves and might have been a better fielder than Keith Hernandez! HOW CAN THAT NOT BE ENOUGH TO GET HIM IN?
13. Pete Rose. It's SO STUPID that Bud Selig won't let him in. Just because he gambled a little doesn't mean he should be kept out of the Hall. Tim Donaghy bet on THE GAMES HE REFFED, and nobody has come out and said that Donaghy would be barred from the NBA Hall of Fame. It's just not consistent.
14. Tim Raines. They called him Rock because he rolled, haha! He had 2,605 hits and 808 stolen bases, and all after taking it easy for the last decade and a half of his career. You can't hold it against him that he played in Montreal. CANADIANS RULE! Like Sarah McLachlan. She's a fox.
15. Harold Baines. GREATEST DESIGNATED HITTER EVER, except maybe for Edgar Martinez and Pete Incagvilia.
16. Jose Rijo. The man came back after being out of the game for FIVE YEARS, and he also did really well in the 1990 World Series. That's two cool things in one career, and that gets my vote.
17. Mark McGwire. HE NEVER TESTED POSITIVE FOR STEROIDS. Also, he doesn't want to think about the past, so he's on my present ballot! Haha! Seriously, though, he hit all those home runs in 1998 and everyone loved him! He wasn't in the Mitchell Report, so he probably didn't do anything wrong. Just vote for him.
18. Kirby Puckett. How is he not in the Hall of Fame yet? Oh wait, he is. Nevermind. BEST FAT GUY EVER.
19. Robb Nen. He has 314 saves and he was on the World Series team with the Marlins! Nobody ever remembers him as an elite closer, because he didn't have a funny theme song or a magic dance like Papelbon. It's a crime that nobody talks about him. PUT HIM IN THE HALL.
20. Alan Trammell. He was only one of the best shortstops for like 20 years, and he hit way better than .300. He raked on Nintendo RBI Baseball too!
21. David Justice. Got with Halle Berry.
22. Chuck Finley. Got with, then beat up by, Tawny Kitaen
23. Albert Belle. Got some guy to steal a bat for him. That's persuasive power! And he tore up a lot of baseballs, but he gets forgotten because he was an ass before he overdosed on steroids. Barry Bonds is an ass and everyone loves him! It's not consistent.
24. Nook LaLooche. Killer fastball.
25. Dante Bichette. Got some MVP votes.
26. Jose Mesa. Longest career in recorded history.
27. Randy Myers. Dominant closer for a few years.
28. Hideo Nomo. The TORNADO, threw like three no-hitters!
29. Gary Gaetti. Completely underappreciated.
30. Jay Buhner. THE GOATEE.
So if anyone ever asks Burt to choose a Hall of Fame class of 2008, I would choose Gossage, Smith, Dawson, Morris, Rice, Blyleven, Murphy, Hernandez, Santo, Concepcion, Ballgame, Parker, Rose, Raines, Baines, Rijo, McGwire, Puckett, Nen, Trammell, Justice, Finley, Belle, LaLooche, Bichette, Mesa, Myers, Nomo, Gaetti and Buhner.
I know that leaves a lot of guys snubbed from the list, but that's why the Hall of Fame is such a prestigious honor! Not just anyone can get in. Sorry, you should have played better!
Labels: Marv Blackstone
Marv Blackstone
Editor-in-chief
Tonight the New England Patriots, in pursuit of perfection, take on the New York Giants. And since you kids seem to like reading neurotically-updated blogs, I thought I'd pop in here and write one for you to read. That is if you're a big enough loser to be sitting in on a Saturday night, reading a live-blog from an old man. At least I have an excuse: I'm old and live at least 80 miles from any sort of civilized area. I also can't find pants, so I can't go out in public. On the upside, my laptop is really warming my thighs right now.
Enjoy the game and the blog. I'll be here until I pass out.
6:54 While we're waiting for the game to start, here are other notable perfections for you to examine:
6:57 While waiting for the game, Wheel of Fortune is on TV. Vanna White just touches the number now? Doesn't even have to turn them? Lazy bitch.
7:00 Tonight's drinking game:
Mention of the word "perfection": 1 drink
Tom Brady touchdown: 4 drinks
Shot of Wes Welker's eyes: 6 drinks
Mention of Patriots' offensive line: 2 drinks
Brandon Jacobs' size mentioned: 2 drinks
Collinsworth subtly insults Gumbel: 3 drinks
Tom Coughlin stands with mouth agape: 2 drinks
7:08 Roger Gooddell talks like a dipshit.
7:16 Lil Eli Manning hits Plaxico Burress for a 52-yard bomb. Collinsworth says that Ellis Hobbs is the worst player on the Patriots.
7:18 Manning pass ruled incomplete, Coughlin throws red flag with his mouth wide open. That means two drinks.
7:19 For the record, I'm drinking Dewar's Whiskey.
7:20 Giants lose the challenge. Coughlin looks bewildered. Two more drinks. Shit. This is early.
7:23 Ellis Hobbs burned again on a Burress first down. Collinsworth says that Hobbs is the worst player in the NFL.
7:24 Gumbel says that Brandon Jacobs was "stoned in the hole by Vince Wilfork." I don't know what that means, but it makes me a little curious.
7:25 I'm stoned, too.
7:26 Lil Eli hits Jacobs for a short TD and the Giants lead 7-0. Collinsworth imitates Scooby Doo and says "Ruh-roh." Wish I would have incorporated that into my drinking game.
7:28 Took a trip to the outhouse during the break and my bowel movement formed a perfect 'V'. I think that's a sign that the Giants will get a victory. Or perhaps ... the Patriots?
7:29 Brady hits Moss on his first pass. Offensive line is mentioned. Drink.
7:30 Brady hits Welker and we see a camera shot of his eyes! Drink.
7:31 Gumbel says "stoned" for the third goddamn time tonight. I think he's watching ME.
7:34 Brady stands in pocket, eats a hot dog, checks his iPhone and hits Welker for a first down. I am very attracted to Wes Welker.
7:37 Pats have to settle for a FG. Collinsworth blames Ellis Hobbs. 7-3 Giants.
7:39 Someone help me -- what should I have for dinner? In my fridge I have three and a half slices of bologna, a five-year old jar of pesto and a potato. Can I make anything from that?
7:44 On-screen graphic says "perfection." One more drink.
7:46 Bryant Gumbel sounds like a gay Ethnic Studies professor.
7:47 Giants sack Brady; Brady sacks supermodel; Marv shotguns an Icehouse.
7:55 Brady hits Moss for a touchdown. That means four big swigs for me. Word to the wise: don't play drinking games involving the Patriots offense.
7:56 Burp.
7:58 Gahhhhh some dude named Hixon blows past every for a kickoff return touchdown. Giants lead 14-10. Collinsworth blames Ellis Hobbs.
8:08 I must have flalen asslep. I woke up and Gostkowski kicked a field goal, which is booooring. Booooring.
8:10 Did everyone have a good Christmas? Get anything cool? Mine was awesome. I bought myself a $500 gift card to Best Buy.
8:12 Another on-screen graphic mentioning the word "perfection." My handle of whiskey is gone. I'm moving onto some vintage 1977 Schlitz.
8:15 Tedy Bruschi makes a nifty move and Gumbel inexplciably mentions Keanu Reeves. Not sure if that's in referecene to the Matrix or My Own Private Idaho.
8:18 Pats ball. Wes Welker makes his 4,474th reception of the night nad the Patiosts are driiving.
8:21 I just filled out one of those eHarmony profiles and they said I'm "unmatchable." What the hell does that mean? I'm as matchable as anythign you'll ever see. Yeah.
8:23 Another Janigostkowski field goal. 16-14 Pats. Perfection is lame.
8:29 Lil Eli is actually executing a drive. Two minutes left. However, I demand the fat Giants quaterback be putttt in the game. Bering on fatty!
8:32 Fighting! Vince Wilfork pokes Brandon jacobs in the eye. the patrios are all pussies.
8:34. I tried to kill Lil Eli once. Couldn't stand the fucker and wanted him dead. Had my perch in a utility closet in the meadowlands, gun in hand, but I fell asleep before I could do the deed. never trust moonshine that you bought off an 18-year-old.
8:40 Who is Kevin moss? How did he just score? How are the Giants leading the Patriots 21-16 at half? How did I eat 24 beef bullion cubes for dinner?
9:00 And we're back! Had a little incident at halftime. Seems the warmth of the laptop on my thighs, combined with the whiskey, make me feel a little easygoing and I ended up peeing just a bit on the computer. Everything seems efine thoguh.
9:06 PLAXICOCOCOCO BURRESS! Touchdown! And the Giants leadthe Patios 28-16! So much for that pursiot of perfection bill belichcik.
9:10 you guys wanna see something hot? Check this out:
9:14 Gumbo says that we haven't seen m8uch fo Wes Wlker and they show a graphic saying that welker has 9 catches for 94 yards. good call.
9:16 I blame ellis hobbs for this.
9:19 Lauren Maroney scores to upll the patrios to within five touhcodowns or points or whatever.
9:20 hang on, there's a knock at my Door
9:23 Sorry, that was Nic cage askingme why i haven't gone to see national treasure too yet. i told him it was because of his face and that i also don't have a car anyermo
9:25 eeeeeeeeeeeee.
9:28 JUNIOR SEAU IS STILL PLAYING FOOTVSALL!?!?
9:30 so so sleepy. funny word. sleepy. slee pee.
9:34 one quarter left. I can't tdo it. Tell Bill belichick that if he still wants me, to tie a yelow flag to the old oak tree out back. i will see it when I pass on the trnia on my way back. i hope this is nt' boogbyde bill. byyyyye.
Labels: Agatha Moonfry
By Agatha Moonfry
Staff Writer
The NFL Playoffs are drawing near, my serpents, leaving only a handful of teams to please me with their defensive schemes and heartthrob quarterbacks. Truly, the best quarterbacks in the league are akin to a good lead vocalist -- mysterious, talented, and always -- whether on the stage or in the bunking area of the tour bus, pressed tightly to the sinister curves of Agatha Moonfry -- in control.
I have seen and slept with numerous lead vocalists in my time, some scintillating and smoldering (Richard Patrick, Filter), and some so boring (Scott Stapp, Creed) that I had no choice but to inject them with diazepam so I could escape before being politely asked for coffee the next morning.
Several of football's quarterbacks remind me of rock stars past and present.
Tom Brady, Patriots (Chris Cornell). With penetrating eyes that leave me requiring further penetration, Cornell's looks are only matched by his talent, as the powerful siren at the front of Soundgarden. Despite Brady's tailored suits and empty supermodels, the man's ability is unquestioned. Cornell did, however, commit one of rock and roll's grandest errors when he took the reins of Audioslave. I can see a similar fall from grace in Brady's future.
Ben Roethlisberger, Steelers (Layne Staley). Shaggy, reclusive, riddled with drug problems, and genius -- the Alice In Chains lead singer was all of these things before his tragic passing. Roethlisberger has demonstrated a similar rugged style and also a similar inattentiveness to his own well-being. God that makes me hot.
Tony Romo, Cowboys (Freddy Mercury). Even the straightest of men must feel disarmed by Romo's smile, similar to the way Queen's lead singer lit up the stage with his beaming whites throughout the 1980s. Like Mercury, Romo is talented, commanding, and most certainly a homosexual.
Brett Favre, Packers (Ronnie Van Zant). Even I have a longing for Southern charm once in a while, and the defiant, classic rock of Brett Favre reminds me of a climax I shared with a middle-aged man at a Texas restaurant while "Sweet Home Alabama" played over the speaker system. Unconventional, but oh my God, so effective.
Peyton Manning, Colts (Rivers Cuomo). The nerdy brilliance of Cuomo as Weezer's frontman has been well-documented, though I was highly disappointed when he rejected my advances during a tour on the Blue Album, forcing me to climb through his bus window and threaten his drummer. Manning attends to every detail, which even the darkest of souls can appreciate.
Philip Rivers, Chargers (Pete Wentz). Whiny little bitches who will someday get their asses kicked (by me, most likely), the Fallout Boy mastermind and San Diego quarterback have a lot to learn. But if Philip is ready for his education, I'll put on my teacher's skirt. Bring an apple, Phil.
Labels: Murphy Kramer
By Murphy Kramer
Punters win championships
Coach Murphy Kramer is the head football coach at Plano Horizons High School in Plano, Ohio. His Fighting Broncos have a 16-68 mark in his nine seasons at the helm, including a 1-8 mark last season
1. New England Patriots: Well, who did you think would be number one? This is why I hate writing these damn power rankings. It makes me feel like I should do something wacky to get noticed, like when John Kruk predicts Pittsburgh to go to the NLCS or has a testicle removed.
2. Indianapolis Colts: Peyton's crew has quietly had a very good season, but you don't hear about it. I think the Colts are primed to roll into the playoffs, and that pass defense could cause some problems for the Patriots if they meet again. Also, Bob Sanders makes me wet.
3. Jacksonville Jaguars: Not a single Jag was voted into the Pro Bowl, despite a fantastic season from Jack Del Rio's boys. You heard it here first: the Jags have the best chance to upset the Patriots in the playoffs. New England can be run on, and the Jaguars can run and control the clock, limiting the number of possessions in the game. A shorter game means a smaller sample size, and a better chance for the lesser team to come out on top. Hey, look! Real analysis!
4. Dallas Cowboys: Did anyone else see Wade Phillips' daughter in Charlie Wilson's War? Holy jebus. I wonder if Tony Romo has conquered her as well. Besides, what is Wade going to do about it? Bench him? P.S. Marion Barber makes me wet.
5. Pittsburgh Steelers: I think their defense is as fearsome as Kathy Bates on a chilly day, and in the cold weather of the playoffs, that's going to take them far. Unless the go play in Indianapolis, where they'll get hammered.
6. San Diego Chargers: Tomlinson is rolling again, and ... well, that's about it. Norv Turner is still the coach, and their quarterback still wears Dora the Explorer footy pajamas when he sleeps. I'm not buying the resurgence.
7. Green Bay Packers: I'm very excited for the latest Brett Favre season-ending interception. Let's take bets on when it will come. I say with 4:53 left in the fourth quarter, NFC Championship, to Ken Hamlin.
8. Seattle Seahawks Sure, whatever.
9. Tampa Bay Buccaneers: I like Jeff Garcia just enough to slip them in this spot. They might win a playoff game, but that's probably it. The defense is too old, and so am I. Can I stop at 10? There are a lot of crappy teams in the NFL. (editor's note: Sure, whatever.)
10. Tennessee Titans: I like their defense a lot, and I think the running game is solid. I also think Vince Young will someday win a Super Bowl. As a wide receiver.
Labels: Bandwagon Burt
By Bandwagon Burt
Wind Sock
This was probably the worst Christmas I've ever had.
First of all, my stupid sister Wendy wanted me to play Santa Claus for her six-year-old boy, which was STUPID -- do I look fat to you? It meant I had to go over there during what was supposed to be my pregame routine for the CAVS-HEAT showdown featuring KING OF ALL THE WORLD LeBron James (I am a WITNESS) and D-Wade of the high-flying Miami Heat. Ddddddddd-Wade. That's like a drumroll.
Anyway, I told little Timmy that there was no real Santa. That solved that problem, but I still had an awful day when I opened up my first gift. I told my wife very specifically that I wanted a Clemens jersey. She was like, "who does he play for?" and I practically PASSED OUT. HELLO, ANGIE, HE PLAYS FOR NEW YORK, I said.
But when I open up the box, it was a KELLEN Clemens jersey, from the New York Jets. I about lost it. I'm only trying to support the greatest pitcher in Major League Baseball history and she gets me the backup quarterback for the Jets? WHAT A HORRIBLE CHRISTMAS.
I wanted to show my support for Roger, since all the haters in the world think he's on steroids. What a crock! Roger is a natural born hero, and he's INNOCENT! He's INNOCENT! That's like a Snoop Dog Doggy song! I'm gonna stand by my man until he's proven guilty, and since this is America, that's not going to happen until he's proven guilty! Besides, if he really did what all those people in the Mitchell Report said he did, there would be little red marks all over his butt. Until someone can show me that evidence, I'll never believe he did anything wrong.
I really wanted tickets to see the last Patriots game of the year, but my stupid brother said they were too expensive. DAMMIT, THIS IS CHRISTMAS, YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO GO ALL OUT. I told him I didn't want them unless they were undefeated, and my brother said he didn't know that until two days before Christmas, and then the price went through the roof or something. I think he's lying.
So now I have to sit at home and wait for the Patriots to play on my television and hopefully fulfill a dream I've been thinking about since I was a little boy. UNDEFEATED IN FOXBORO! That's a great slogan, if somebody wants to buy it from me, haha! I don't see how they can't go undefeated. They're amazing! TOM BRADY (MVP! MVP!) and Randy Moss and Wes Welker! Have you ever seen a white person that good? He's the 1997 Michael Jordan of white receivers. He might be BETTER than Jordan!
Oh my god, what if Belichick rests their starters and they lose? TO LITTLE ELI. That would be embarrassing, and I'd DEFINITELY call for Belichick to be fired. I can't believe anyone would even think of something like that.
Almost there! Hope your Christmas didn't suck like mine!
Labels: Marv BlackstoneMarv Blackstone
Editor-in-chief
Given my long, quasi-illustrious background in sportswriting (to recap: degree from Columbia J-school; 40-plus years of experience writing about sports; the opportunity to work at, and be fired from, six of the 10 largest newspapers in America), I know good sportswriting when I see it. And I know bad sportswriting when I see it. And then I know Peter King when I see it.
It looks like a saber-toothed fat guy with bad hair and coffee-stained teeth, squeezing into clothes that his 235-pound wife bought for him at a Dillard's outlet mall. It smells like pastrami.
This week, I've decided to use my editorial background to re-edit and trim down Peter King's MMQ column. His columns usually run about 18,572 words and look like they've been put together by a sixth-grade student who just learned how to outline, so I thought I'd save you the time and highlight the important stuff.
Enjoy the extra 15 minutes of your life.
Name dropping, Week 16
"I spoke with Parcells twice about this on Sunday ..."
"After that 2002 Super Bowl game, I told Belichick at the Patriots' team party ..."
"A prominent GM told me the other day that college athletic directors are often concerned ..."
"A few minutes later, Parcells called back."
"My first question to Fred Taylor postgame ..."
"Interesting comment from a prominent league official last Friday ..."
"Cleveland linebacker Willie McGinest, who told me Sunday night ..."
Definitive decision of the week
"The NFL rule is that if a front-office man does not have control over the draft and free agency, and he is being offered a job with that final football authority, then his team would be obligated to allow him to interview if permission were requested.
Will that apply in Miami? Maybe."
Exclamation that probably didn't make Fred Taylor feel better
"Couldn't have said it better, Fred! In fact, down in Ten Things, you'll get a much longer take on how fans, players and coaches should vote for the Pro Bowl."
Enjoyable poorly-constructed sentence of the week
"12. Seattle (10-5). A bit of a surging ground game against the Ravens: 34 carries, 148 yards."
So what are you waiting for, Peter?
"Someday we'll give Vanden Bosch the credit he deserves for being one of the top five defensive ends in football."
Do you know Cam Cameron?
"But if I know Cameron, he'll make lemonade out of the lemons he's been handed. Talk about a power-of-positive-thinking guy."
How about, "Peter King doesn't talk about himself for an entire column?
"'Todd Collins Leads Redskins To Brink of Playoffs.' Can't think of a more unlikely newspaper headline in 2007."
Correctly identifying what sport I write about for a living
"Packers 12-3, Bears 6-9. Pack 0-2 versus Bears. Go figure. That's football."
Glove tackiness note of the week
"What a TD catch by T.J. Houshmandzadeh in the second quarter against Cleveland. The ball went through his hands, and he caught the end of the ball, probably helped by the tackiness of the gloves."
Pointless, narcissistic story of the week
"The blessing of all blessings: My biggest road trip in the last seven days was a 40-minute train trip, which was on time in both directions, to HBO last Wednesday. Every air traveler I've encountered in the past few days has some tale of holiday woe to tell. That's one great thing about being off the road most weekends this season."
I like coffee more than you
"Very inside version of Coffeenerdness: Judy Schenk, be prepared to meet Andrew Perloff this morning. Judy runs The Barge, the campus coffeehouse at Colgate University in Hamilton, N.Y., which also employs Mary Beth King. Andrew edits pro football at SI.com, and he is spending Christmas with family in Hamilton and staying at the Colgate Inn, a few storefronts down the street from The Barge. This morning, Judy, be on notice that Andrew plans to come in for some Christmas Eve coffee."
Thanks for the Christmas present, Peter
"The merriest of Christmases to you who celebrate tomorrow, and the happiest of holiday seasons to all. In honor of the day, I hope you don't mind me skipping my Tuesday column this week."
Labels: DeJuan C3P0
DeJuan C3PO
Fly Scribe
Dog, I look lovely.
Fresh off my trip to Carolina to take in the Panthers-Cowboys game, I can't bring myself to take off my flowing blond wig and dainty No. 9 jersey so I could look like Jessica Simpson. That mama is fine. I hooked up with some cats from Carolina that were headed to the game, trying to be all distracting to Tony Romo with their Simpson attire, and I just had to play along.
So all day, while Marion Barbarian crushed himself some Panthers and the Cowboys helped themselves to home field advantage in the playoffs, I was acting all ditzy and shit to fit the part, talking about my man Tony Romo and singing "I Wanna Love You Forever" to anyone who would listen. Dog, say what you want about my vocal range, but I can hit those notes. I'm like Aaron Fucking Neville, except with a blond wig.
Can you believe that shit, people saying that shorty is a distraction to my boy Romo? Trust me, bitches. When you're getting play, especially from one of the finer pieces of tail engineered in the United States of American, you have never been more focused. When I was on tour in Los Angeles, I wasn't even my damn self until I got laid by the unquestionably gorgeous but questionably sane LaFonda Webster in the rafters of the concert venue. Pyrotechnics and getting jiggy have never been more appropriately interwoven. That shit was hot! Literally.
Problem isn't Jessica Simpson for Tony Romo. It's Terrell Owens and his front where he says she's all distracting, but he's really just damn jealous. He's like, "shit, I drop footballs thrown my way all the time, cuz I'm not getting me no Jessica Simpson." If he was getting action, he would not have rolled his ankle and sat out the second half. That shit doesn't happen when you got the lingering image of boobies on your brain. I have empirical proof.
I salute you, Tony Romo, and I salute your pop queen sweetheart. I just hope she got that "I'm a virgin until I get married" phase over with when she dumped Nick Lachey's ass. Cuz I don't want to see you have another bad game, dog, and since the entire 98 Degrees catalog was a shitfest, you know she was responsible for Nick's shortcomings. Don't let it happen to you. It's playoff time soon!
Labels: Dakota Brezinski
By Dakota Brezinski
Seven-year-old
Now that I know my favoritest pitcher in the earth, Roger Clemens, is on the juice, I know what I can do to be just like him.
Daddy says drinking milk will make be big and powerful, and give me strong bones, but I don't like milk. It doesn't taste wonderful. Instead of the Daddy plan, I will drink more Pepsi. And steroids!!
I have always wanted to be exactly like Roger Clemens, because he is not afraid of anybody and can throw a baseball really hard. I tried looking like Roger Clemens when I threw a ball at Caitlin. She started crying and ran to Mommy. I told Mommy I was just trying to be like my hero! I said Caitlin is lucky I didn't throw a broken bat at her, instead. I got sent to my room.
Daddy says Roger is a dirty cheater, but everybody cheats. Tanner cheats at tag, by forming an alliance with Brian Donaldson. Brian trips me and Tanner tags me and calls no tagbacks. It's not fair. But that's life on the playground.
I have wasted too much time on vegetables and milk, and I am only having the juice now. I drink juice six times a day. I have to pee lots, and I think Mrs. Wilkes gets mad at me when I ask. But I have to go! And if I don't have my juice, I will not be like Roger Clemens. I will be like Adam Everett.
Steroids taste yummy. Tanner brought some to recess -- they came in a little plastic package and were all different colors. They even said they would make me smarter on the package, because they were called smarties. Tanner said the really good baseball players breathe them through their nose, so we tried that. It tickled so much! Then I passed out.
I love juice. I like banana-orange-cranberry-apple the best, even though they don't serve that in the cafeteria. Only apple. Do you think Roger Clemens likes apple juice? No. Roger likes banana-orange-cranberry-apple.
Someday, I am going to be a baseball player and go to the Hall of Fame and be on the juice, and little kids will want to be like me. If they don't want to be like me, I will throw a baseball at them!
Rank Year Player Team GRIT 1 1971 Ron Hunt MON 52.061 2 2002 David Eckstein ANA 35.963 3 1968 Ron Hunt SFN 34.901 4 1998 Fernando Vina MIL 33.296 5 1996 Craig Biggio HOU 32.251 6 1997 Craig Biggio HOU 27.964 7 2002 Fernando Vina SLN 27.687 8 2005 Jason Kendall OAK 27.373 9 2001 Jason Kendall PIT 27.018 10 1955 Nellie Fox CHA 26.703 11 1986 Don Baylor BOS 26.442 12 2003 Jason Kendall PIT 26.319 13 2000 Fernando Vina SLN 26.064 14 1999 Chuck Knoblauch NYA 25.910 15 2003 Craig Biggio HOU 25.743 16 2001 David Eckstein ANA 25.423 17 1957 Nellie Fox CHA 25.311 18 1975 Felix Millan NYN 25.188 19 1967 Cesar Tovar MIN 25.102 20 1969 Ron Hunt SFN 24.829 21 1968 Cesar Tovar MIN 24.692 22 2005 Brady Clark MIL 24.659 23 1996 Eric Young COL 24.635 24 1998 Chuck Knoblauch NYA 24.558 25 2001 Craig Biggio HOU 24.346 26 1997 Jason Kendall PIT 23.913 27 2004 Jason Kendall PIT 23.717 28 1998 Jason Kendall PIT 23.617 29 1972 Ron Hunt MON 23.580 30 2001 Fernando Vina SLN 23.189 31 2004 Juan Pierre FLO 23.028 32 1980 Ozzie Smith SDN 22.815 33 1976 Don Baylor OAK 22.419 34 2005 David Eckstein SLN 22.402 35 1957 Minnie Minoso CHA 22.188 36 1991 Brett Butler LAN 21.874 37 1961 Nellie Fox CHA 21.834 38 1970 Ed Brinkman WS2 21.702 39 2006 Juan Pierre CHN 21.334 40 1973 Ron Hunt MON 21.142 41 2002 Melvin Mora BAL 20.893 42 1980 Alfredo Griffin TOR 20.875 43 1993 Mike Bordick OAK 20.719 44 2005 Juan Pierre FLO 20.615 45 1995 Craig Biggio HOU 20.413 46 1990 Brett Butler SFN 20.399 47 1959 Richie Ashburn PHI 20.079 48 1993 Chuck Knoblauch MIN 19.994 49 1993 Brett Butler LAN 19.919 50 1984 Brett Butler CLE 19.816
Chuck Dickens
Idiot Savant
After Tim McCarver’s month-long David Eckstein sploogefest that was October 2006, a serious investigation into 'grit' was long overdue. Despite the penchant of sportswriters and broadcasters to throw the term around willy-nilly, I was hard-pressed to locate a firm definition of grit in the baseball sense. Using lots of laptop science stuff, I think I’ve improved the definition, which isn’t really saying much, since there wasn’t one to begin with.
First, some definitions to help us focus in on what exactly this 'grit' stuff is.
Gritty
1. Containing, covered with, or resembling grit.
2. Showing resolution and fortitude; plucky: Biggio’s gritty 12-pitch at-bat ultimately resulted in a routine 6-3 groundout.
In keeping with those definitions I’m proposing a new composite statistic: General Requirements of Intangible Talent (GRIT). GRIT incorporates four basic components: dirt, determination, talent, and opportunity.
DATA
I used a modified version of the Sean Lahman dataset that includes player statistics from 1871-2006. My dataset includes player-seasons starting in 1955, the first year for which statistical data for intentional walks and GIDP was available. To chop the dataset down to a manageable size, I limited the number of eligible players to those who have at least 100 plate appearances and 81 games played. This removes pitchers from consideration, but also ensures that an adequate indication of a player’s abilities during each season is evident. Statistics for 2007 were compiled from ESPN.
The resulting dataset includes 13,249 player-seasons with 2,385 unique players represented.
HYPOTHESIS
I hold that gritty players are those who sincerely want to win or succeed at baseball (determination), but due to a lack of natural skill (talent), are forced to do so through the least efficient means possible, resulting in an excessive amount of dirt on their uniform.
DIRT
The most important factor in determining a player's GRIT is his uniform. A player who is "containing, covered with, or resembling grit" will show visible signs of his grittiness on his uniform. Dirty uniforms are good; bloody uniforms are better. A true team player, the gritty player is prepared to sacrifice his body at all costs. This is one of the few ways gritty players are efficient, since they probably aren’t as well compensated as their genuinely talented teammates.
The Dirt Formula
HBP: A hit batter produce minimal gains (one base) with relatively high costs in terms of potential bodily injury. The official colors of gritty players may well be black and blue. And red. And maybe some brown with a little purple and some yellow around the edges, depending on the severity of the bruising.
IBB: Next to home runs, intentional walks are probably the most anti-gritty statistic. Intentional walks are indicative that a player has so much talent that the pitcher would rather give him first base than risk an extra-base hit. Gritty players have to earn every base through hard-knocks, moxie, and a heaping helping of some good ol’ fashioned hustle.
CS/SB stuff (SBINEFF): This is a statistic I call Stolen Base Inefficiency (SBINEFF). This looks for players who like to attempt lots of steals but are largely unsuccessful. Stealing bases produces minimal gains (one base) but comes with greater potential costs by raising the likelihood of being thrown out. Base-stealers (successful or not) also have dirty uniforms from sliding.
DID YOU KNOW: Harold Reynolds holds the single-season record for SBINEFF with a stunning 13.385? Harold’s 1988 season saw him tally 35 steals while being caught 29 times. He broke the record set by Will Clark (13.304) during the previous season when Mr. Eyeblack went 5 for 22 on steal attempts. WOW!
DETERMINATION
Gritty players want to succeed. They just happen to not have the talent to actually do so. This results in inefficient baseball plays. For example, Jerry Hairston is gritty. He slides head-first into first base. A true sign of someone gritty enough to want to get to first base, but shitty enough to actually get there efficiently.
The Determination Formula
(Outs – SO): As short in stature as they are on talent, gritty players are determined to put the ball in play at all costs. Additionally, the ball looks gigantic to their tiny, elfin eyes and thus they’re less prone to striking out.
(BB+SH+SF): With their microscopic strike zones, gritty players generate walks (the unintentional ones) at a superhuman rate. Sacrificing oneself is an inefficient (read: gritty) method of moving runners along.
GIDP: Double plays are produced by well-struck balls that are able to cut through the infield grass. Aside from a bottle of hard liquor (eh, Mr. Furcal?) gritty players rarely hit anything well.
DID YOU KNOW: 2007 NL MVP Jimmy Rollins produced the sixth-highest season total of outs since 1955? He probably owes a fair share of his award to a trail-blazing fellow Phillie middle-infielder who set a precedent. Juan Samuel, in 1984, produced the second highest number of outs on his way to earning a tie for 21st place in the MVP voting and 2nd in the NL ROY. HOOCHIEMAMA!
DID YOU ALSO KNOW: Pete Rose has only the second highest season total of determination. The real "Charlie Hustle" is actually a "Dick." Dick Howser, that is. Howser’s 1964 season slightly edges out Pete’s numbers from 1974. CRACKER JACK!
WHATCHUKNOWABOUTTHISHERE: Dick Howser’s phone listing reads as "Howser, Dick." This tidbit is worth a few laughs given the right delivery, set-up, and audience. SHABANG!
Talent – It is my contention that "grittiness" is a subset of talent that cannot translate well statistically. Two players may very well have the same raw amount of grit, but one player may have more tangible talent, making him appear less gritty because the grit is too diluted. Gritty players are those who have the largest concentration of grit. As such, too find the grittiest players, we should look for players who have as little tangible talent as possible.
The Talent Formula
XBH: Extra base hits are über-efficient ways of getting multiple bases.
RBI: Gritty players move runners over, but aren’t talented enough to drive them in.
TB: Total bases is an additional means of counting the overall ability of a player.
(OMS*1000): OMS (OBP minus SLG) is a proprietary statistic I developed for use in GRIT. It rewards players who reach base, but deprecates players who have the talent to get extra bases.
OPPORTUNITY
In order for a player to become gritty, they first need to be on the field. In the words of Ted Williams, "Nobody ever became a .400 hitter without taking the bat off their shoulder." To apply the quote more appropriately here, one might attribute it to Willams' quasi-gritty teammate, Milt Bolling, and change it to read "Nobody ever became a .250 hitter by getting splinters in their ass.” We simply use plate appearances as a representation of opportunity.
After calculating the four GRIT component values for each player-season, the resulting values are then plugged in to this equation:
(Dirt + Determination – Talent) / Opportunity
However, each component has a different scale relative to the others, so I experimented with normalizing the values. This can be accomplished by calculating an average and a standard deviation for the dirt, determination, talent, and opportunity scores of all the player-years.
Basic Normalization Formula
This was applied for each of the basic components across all player-seasons. The rationale for normalizing this data is to remove as much bias as possible from the process. As each of the four basic components creates a different range of values, some sort of weighting would be necessary to produce a meaningful list. Normalization automatically weights the components by determining how far a given player-season is above or below the average of all player-seasons.
RESULTS
Across 13,249 player-seasons, the data appears to have a relatively normal distribution. The data shows a range of about -50 to +50 with one outlier at -90.011 (see below), and a mean and median extremely close to 0. These numbers are promising for the prospects of GRIT as a statistic, as they suggest that the average player is neither extremely gritty, nor extremely talented. The tails in the extreme positive end of the distribution should show the grittiest players, while talented players should appear in the negative tail.
Enough talk; bring on the numbers ...
The Top 50 Grittiest Season and the 25 Least Gritty Seasons
