You'll Always Be the Devil Rays to Me

A few observations as I was watching the Rays hold off the Red Sox in nail-biting fashion the other night:

1. This marks the eighth time in the past eleven years that the American League representative in the World Series has come from the A.L. East—and the first time during that time frame that the A.L. East has been represented by a team other than the Yankees or the Red Sox. This makes me happy. I’d be happier if the team in question was a scrappy bunch of underachievers in orange and black, but, as my dad says, “If wishes were horses, then scientists would clone Matt Wieters and he'd be able to play every position and pitch, even, and nobody would think it was weird that the Orioles were winning a bunch of games with a roster full of cloned dudes because they’d be too busy getting their asses handed to them by an army of Wieters.”

My dad says that all the time.

2. David Price. Good at baseball. David Blaine. Bad at magic.

"For my next trick, I will attempt to dribble a football. Seriously, guys, it's not that easy."

They look kind of similar, right?

3. Rays fans don't know how to party. This is not a big surprise, I guess. Tampa is not a baseball town, after all. (I guess it’s a football town? I’m really not sure. Tampa is mysterious. They have alligators there). And I realize that, as recently as a month ago, the Rays' entire fan base consisted of 37 relatives of Dioner Navarro, the staff at Baseball Prospectus and my Uncle Wayne. And, yes, for the first ten years of their existence, the Rays were utterly, spectacularly terrible, and it’s hard to rally around a 5th place team. But none of these reasons can excuse the following transgressions of fandom that occurred during the ALCS:


a. The signs in the Tampa stands were hilariously amateurish. I (Heart) Upton! read one. Beat Those Sox! read another. And when the final out was recorded, a few fans in the upper deck dramatically unfurled a vinyl sign that read: “First Time in History.” Nevermind the fact that ten years is not a lot of "history." The sign looked like it had been lifted from a used car lot, like they had cut off the bottom part that said "Geo Prizms and Dodge Neons Priced Under $1K! No, Money Down!"

Dear Rays fans: you owe the fans from Bases Loaded royalties for those horrible signs.

Does no one in Tampa have the ability to craft an even halfway decent pun? No ‘Bring the Pena’? No ‘Rays ‘em up’? It took me two seconds to come up with those, and I'm not even drunk. Well, I'm kind of drunk.


b. The celebration music they were playing in the stadium made me envious of the deaf.

In the song “Counting Bodies Like Sheep to the Rhythm of the War Drum” by A Perfect Circle, there’s a moment when singer Maynard James Keenan hisses Go back to sleep in a voice that sounds like knives being sharpened. It takes place roughly three minutes into the song, and it is terrifying. When the Rays were celebrating their victory on the field, the song playing over the loudspeaker sounded like a loop of that same terrifying, sharp-edged line. It is a frighteningly awesome line, from a frighteningly awesome song. But to listen to it—or something that sounded like it—over and over was the aural equivalent of staring directly into Medusa’s eyes. After a minute, my ears started to bleed. After two minutes, I ran upstairs to grab my baby daughter from her crib, all but certain that the apocalypse was nigh. And before we reached the fourth minute, I had turned to stone. This was not celebration music. This was music to accompany great and terrible acts of violence. This was music to justify an insanity plea. And yet, it was still better than “Celebrate good times, c’mon!”*.


4. I'd like to point out that Jeff and I liked the Rays way, way before it was cool. Like, back in the days of Crime Dog and Greg Vaughn.


My Series prediction? Rays in 6. However, part of me will be rooting for the Phillies because, if they win, the city of Philadelphia will riot—and Papa needs a new Liberty Bell.



* Please do not read this as an indictment of Kool or any of the members of his Gang—all of whom are fine, upstanding citizens who have more Funkiness in their little fingers than I have in my entire Dockers-wearing, Double-Windsor-knotting body.

The NFC West

You know what's awesome? Having your team play in the NFC West. Seriously. You should try it. 0-2 start you say? 1-6 on the Wide Receiver depth chart out with injuries you say? Don't worry, you play the St. Louis Rams.

But seriously, thank you Redskins. Beating Arizona for us was clutch. Maybe if we meet in the playoffs again we won't beat you this time. Well, no, sorry, we'll still beat you. That is, if Matt Hasselbeck has a professional wide receiver to throw to. I think he will. In fact, I think he will by week 5. We should have Branch and Engram back by the time we play Arizona, Boldin should be injured by then, and we'll be fine. Because we play in the NFC West. And it's awesome.

So, regardless of what I titled this post, it's really just a random football ramble. These are my thoughts on the NFL after Week 3. Well, the Jets and Chargers play tonight, but seriously, who cares.

The Bills. They're good. They're the best team in the AFC East. They will win the AFC East, because Miami and NYJ still suck, and, despite what a lot of people who hate good teams say, Tom Brady actually is a very good quarterback, and replacing him with just anybody doesn't mean that O-line, that system, Bill Belichick, and Randy Moss can still mow people down.

Eli Manning. He's good??? I guess so. I mean, I thought there was a chance that winning the Super Bowl meant he'd turned a corner, but it was kind of fluky. And he hasn't looked fantastic. But I've seen a couple plays (down field to Toomer in OT with a gorgeous bomb) where he actually looks like THE Manning.

Speaking of THE Manning... Indy sucks. Oh, and Jacksonville doesn't look very good either. Who's going to win that division? Who cares? Once Tennessee gets in the mix, I stop paying attention.

You know what? The AFC sucks this year. At least so far. I know a lot can change, but really. The only bright spots I think are the Broncos, who I'm calling for the Super Bowl, and the Bills. Every other team is just disappointment. When the Chargers lost in Week 1, I heard people say that it was a surprise because they were a favorite for the Super Bowl. They were? Why? Their defense is good (or should be). Their QB is Phillip fucking douche bag Rivers, their coach is Norv "I'm actually an offensive coordinator pretending to be a head coach" Turner, and LT can only do so much. I mean, really, he can do SOOOOO MUCH, but that's not enough to beat a good Broncos team. Hell, aparently it's not enough to beat a bad Carolina team. AT HOME.

But you know what else? The NFC is pretty fucking awesome. As much as I hate to admit it, the Cowboys are good. Luckily, they play in the polar opposite of the NFC West, the NFC EAST. Holy crap that division is awesome and always has been. The Eagles look sick. The Giants look back and forth, but pretty damn good. The Cowboys will win the division and then Romo will make a bonehead play to lose in the playoffs. Seriously, I think Romo's career is going to be shadowed like this the entire way. He's going to be very good, but make boneheaded, dimple-faced, good ol' boy grinnin' mistakes when they really matter and he'll just never be awesome. In last week's game against the Eagles, when he fumbled in the end zone, recovered, turned to see 3 green monsters swarming on him, why didn't he just hurl the ball away? Can it be grounding if there's been a fumble? Anyway, Romo is like the best quarterback that sucks. I hate Romo.

The St. Louis Rams, the Kansas City Chiefs, the Detroit Lions. These teams are very bad. Like abysmal. When you've got Julius Jones and TJ Duckett combining for over 200 yds rushing, combined with a passing attack that consists of a guy named Courtney and another named Bumpus scoring on you, you are a terrible, awful, unbelievably bad football team. Thank you St. Louis Rams.

I hate watching games involving the Chicago Bears and the Baltimore Ravens. I mean, if you can assemble an entire defense as good as they have, why can't you assemble... a quarterback. What's hilarious is that Baltimore actually tries to. They love drafting them some qb's.

I miss Wide Receivers. Seriously. Last week, before the game, I was excited that we were going to have Seneca Wallace as a starting WR, because he's awesome. Our backup QB is 5th on our WR depth chart. That's cool. What's not cool is having to have your 5th WR start as your #1. Well, having to, but not being able to because HE TOO GETS INJURED. 1-6. Unbelievable. Has this ever happened before? Deion Branch, Bobby Engram, Nate Burleson (IR), Ben Obomanu (IR), Seneca Wallace, Logan Payne (IR). What? 3 on IR too! What the hell. We RE-SIGNED Koren Robinson for christ's sake! We actually traded a DRAFT PICK for Keary Colbert. We played Courtney Taylor, Michael Bumpus, and Billy McMullen???? Who are these guys? They sound like characters in a Dukes of Hazzard rip off.

Feels good to get that off my chest. Well I'm kind of done rambling. Wilson, congrats to your Bills, they look great. As do the Eagles. My Seahawks are in shambles, and I'm still fairly confident we'll make the playoffs. Teams from Ohio are awful.

I'm stoked about the season, even though I should be terrified. But my Seahawks play in the NFC West, so everything is going to be alright.

The King is Dead, Long Live the King

A post is coming on the forthcoming ascendancy of the Bills and the end of the Belichick reign of terror. I'm just so delirious with happiness that I can't really string together words complete sentences in. Post tomorrow maybe I will write.

Obama Acceptance Speech Drinking Game

A drinking game, sure to keep you sober, in honor of tonight's historic speech:

Obama comes out wearing a Trevor Pryce jersey: one beer

Obama comes out wearing an Elvis Dumervil-autographed helmet: 10 beers

Obama refers to the South as having “Selvin Young type-upside”: Six beers

He refers to Invesco Field as “the House that Michael Dean Perry built”: 75 beers

Obama analogizes John McCain as once the 2000 version of Ed McCaffrey, but now nothing more than the 2003 version: seven beers

Obama acknowledges the dignitaries in the crowd: Civil Rights Leaders (no beers), Elway (one sip), Terrell Davis (one beer), Steve Atwater (two beers), Karl Mecklenburg (fifth of Beam).

Obama calls Terrell Davis "the Greatest Runningback of all-time-dot-com": 12 beers and a box of Bugles (box of Big Cheez-It if low on Bugles)

Obama gives a somewhat uplifting speech that really doesn’t say too much, but was kind of cool in an Outdoor Hockey kind of way: one to two good beers, casually drank.

The Should-Have-Been GTA Soundtrack

Sorry about the few posts. I'm lazy, and libertarianism and Buffalo Bills are the only two things I know anything about and neither Ron Paul nor Trent Edwards has done anything interesting lately so I've been quiet.

Aside: I'm lying of course. Trent Edwards went 9-11 with 2 TDS against the Steelers and looked awesome. I really believe he will be good, and you guys better get out of my way during the fantasy football draft. Lee Evans is set for a huge breakout.

Continuing then with my theme of writing about things that no one but me cares about, I'm going to write about Grand Theft Auto IV and heavy metal music. Specifically about my favorite songs for careening recklessly down a faux-Seventh Avenue in a stolen Lamborghini while being chased by a police helicopter and 30 FBI Hummers.

Another Aside: If you aren't playing GTA, you really ought to be. It's among the most highly reviewed games in history, and for good reason. It's quite fun, and very impressive as an achievement. Other things you probably aren't doing but should be doing include: Watching The Venture Brothers, buying an iPhone, and reading Watchmen.

I understand that the game comes with a built in soundtrack. It's extremely vast, with songs from all different genres. Not terrible, but certainly not appriciative of what goes on in this game. Sticking to the classic rock station as an example, we have songs like Q Lazzarus' "Goodbye Horses". A fine song, but conjuring up mellow-yet-creepy images of Ted Levine dancing around naked with his weiner tucked between his legs while I'm trying to jump the Hudson River on a motorcycle. . .well you can see where I have a problem. The jazz station is classy, but seriously. . .a jazz station? Do we really want to associate Charlie Parker's good name and smooth sax with firing a submachine gun through the window of an oncoming police cruiser?

I have here several bands that surely would not mind being associated with such imagery. They have often put worse on their album covers.

1. Black Sabbath - Die Young

You all know my affinity for Ronnie James Dio. If I ever fully embrace the image of a blogger (i.e. someone who acts like an expert but actually doesn't know a damn thing) I will write a post someday about how he is the greatest voice in rock and roll history.

Dio: Turning kids to Satanism decades before Marilyn Manson

In 1979 the non-Ozzy members of Black Sabbath decided to fire Ozzy Ozzborne for drinking too much--somewhat like being fired from Weezer for being too much of a hipster. So they turned to the greatest voice in rock music, who had been in such awesome bands as Elf, and Rainbow (both very gay sounding, both very awesome). Subsequently, they released my favorite Sabbath album.

The title track from this album, "Heaven and Hell", is actually already in the game. It just lacks the punch that Die Young does, having a very slow tempo for the first 5 minutes of the song (ala Stairway). Die Young, takes a break in the middle, but that's a perfect time to back up before you blast through that police barricade at the song's big crescendo. The guitar solo (which is approximately 30 minutes long) is so perfect for this game. The lyrics are helpful, as well.

Gather the wind
Though the wind won't help you fly at all
Your back's to the wall
Then chain the sun
And then it turns around and face you
As you run, you run, you run!

So live for today
Tomorrow never comes
Die young, young!

2. Helloween - Murderer (terrible quality, download it!)

I think most of you probably don't know Helloween because you don't follow German 80's Speed Metal. Consider this your introduction to the fastest and cheeziest band in history. They are hilarious, and awesome. This song may as well have been written for GTA. I would not recommend playing it while you are driving for real, because you will feel almost compelled to activate the acceleromatrix in your car (I don't drive myself; cars still have acceleromatrices, right?)

Lyrics:

Look for a safe place where noone will find you
And try to escape from the law
Wherever you are there's a killer behind you
Wanting to get you for sure
To lose the fear that one day he will get you
Be faster and kill him and run
Now you don't have to fear him no more
But in his place another headhunter will come
...run away!

3. Judas Priest - Breaking the Law

Come on. I don't really need to write anything here. The song maybe isn't fast enough for the car-chase-theme I have going on here, but it's pretty close. The lyrics and classic nature make up the difference.

4. Van Halen - Unchained

This comes off of Van Halen's best album, and their most under-played album, "Fair Warning". This album rocks. It's not conventional Van Halen. There's more interesting stuff going on than on albums like "1984" and Unchained displays some of that. The absolutely rocking chorus is great for flying around corners and weaving through traffic. Like some of the other songs on this list, there is a great slow interlude which then builds back into the driving force of the melody.

Lyrics:


Change, nothin' stays the same
Unchained, and ya hit the ground runnin'
Change, ain't nothin' stays the same
Unchained, yeah ya hit the ground runnin'

5. Dead Kennedys - Police Truck

This song is one of my favorite Dead Kennedys songs. It's very funny, fast, and has a distinctive sound. The guitar impresses me, and I think it's a great fit on this list as well. The lyrics are wildly unsafe for work, so I won't post them. I love this song though.


Third aside: Did you know Jello Biafra, lead singer for the Dead Kennedys, ran for president? I love his voice, hate his politics, and love his name. In 2000 the Green Party of New York State nominated him, but he lost the primary to Ralph Nader. People make fun of the Libertarians, and rightfully so, but the Greens are just as nuts.

Actually, I'd vote for the guy.

Anyway, to be continued. Watch that Venture Brothers episode.

Home Run Scurvy

I used to think that ESPN’s Jayson Stark was a fairly reasonable man. Then I read this, in which Stark breathlessly berates A-Rod for skipping the Home Run Derby. This section is particularly inept:

“Some day, A-Rod wants people to watch him walk down the street and say, ‘There goes the real home run king.’ Well, we hate to break it to him, but real home run kings think the Home Run Derby is part of their job description, not somebody else's problem.”

Allow me to make three points about the Home Run Derby:

1. The Home Run Derby is part of no one’s job description.

A professional baseball player’s job description looks something like this:

a. Show up before the game starts.
b. Try not to be drunk. (Hungover is OK).
c. Hit the ball and/or play your position according to your abilities.
d. Don’t test positive for drugs more than, like, seven times.
e. Some drugs are OK.

Nowhere in the MLBPA Collective Bargaining Agreement does it say anything to the effect of, “Thou shalt risk injury by participating in a glorified marketing stunt just because some ESPN columnist thought it would be really cool.” (In fact, the Home Run Derby is mentioned only once in the MLBPA Collective Bargaining Agreement, and it has to do with an agreement with ESPN that one of the player interviews during the telecast will focus on MLB “Trust activities.”)

2. If you are older than ten, then you do not care about the Home Run Derby. This is a scientifically proven fact. A few years ago, in a little-known experiment, a group of scientists showed 500 ten year old boys a tape of the 2002 Home Run Derby. The boys went wild. They thought it was the coolest thing ever. Tons of home runs! Loud music! Players laughing and joking around with each other, just like regular folk! Awesome!

The scientists then showed each boy the same tape on his 11th birthday. Here’s a sampling of the boys’ responses:

Boy 17: So they just, like, keep hitting home runs, right? Is that it?

Boy 212: How is this any different than batting practice?

Boy 333: Are there gonna be boobs in this video? ‘Cause that would be awesome.

Boy 467: Why are you at my birthday party?

Admit it, Jayson. Your argument boils down to this: Your inner child was hopelessly excited about the possibility of watching A-Rod hit a bunch of home runs. That’s it, right? And afterward, Mommy was going to take you to Friendly’s and let you get TWO ice cream sundaes! And fries! And a milkshake! Because it’s Home Run Derby day!

It’s your fantasy, my friend.


3. Avoiding the Home Run Derby will do nothing to tarnish A-Rod’s resume. A-Rod could retire tonight and still get voted into the Hall of Fame on every ballot. Ten years from now, when people talk about the best players to ever play the game, A-Rod’s name will come up. The fact that he avoided the 2008 HRD will not. How many Home Run Derbies did Hank Aaron participate in? How about Willie Mays?

Stark also supports an unnamed team official’s theory that A-Rod is avoiding the HRD because of the recent Madonna scandal. Stark writes, “He's afraid of not winning. He's afraid of being ripped in the tabloids. He's afraid of hearing it's all Madonna's fault.”

Um, seriously? You think A-Rod is losing sleep over the fact that some drunken Yankee fans might serenade him with an impromptu performance of ‘Material Girl’? Have you forgotten that A-Rod plays in Yankee Stadium, like, every night? And that he gets booed there, like, all the time? And that the tabloids rip on him, like, every day? Remember “Stray-Rod”?

Now it’s my turn to theorize: A-Rod is inured to the boos. Like most professional athletes, he has no particular allegiance to the city where he plays his home games. Steinbrenner signs his paychecks, and A-Rod goes home each night and rests his weary head in his palatial Manhattan apartment. That’s the extent of his connection to New York. He wants the Yankees to win, no doubt, but only because he’s a competitor who plays a game for a living in which overall team success is measured by wins and losses – not because he drank the Yankee Kool-Aid (“Now with 25% more Mystique!”) and he now bleeds for the Bronx and shits pinstripes.

And, perhaps most unbelievably, in an effort to disprove the “Derby Curse,” Stark suggests that three former Derby champs -- Ryan Howard, Cal Ripken, and Andrew Dawson -- actually “used the Derby as a springboard to win an MVP award.” A-Rod hasn’t participated in the HRD since 2002. Since then, he’s won three MVP awards. That pretty much shoots your theory to hell, huh, Jayson?



* Note: As I’m typing this, Josh Hamilton is depositing baseballs on the moon. Everyone seems to be having fun, and Milton Bradley is actually smiling. I take back everything I said about the HRD. The HRD is awesome.

This Does Not Look Good for the NBA

Disgraced NBA Referee's Phone Calls to Second Ref Raise Questions

So, Davey, is Tim Donaghy still a "rogue, isolated criminal"? Inquiring minds want to know!

The Greatest Music Video Ever Made

Watch this video as soon as you can.

http://www.vimeo.com/1223566

Special thanks to one John O. for this truly spectacular link.

Blog Blog Blog

Remember when we had a blog, and we posted stuff on it and commented on the posts and stuff? Yeah, those were good times. Ahhh, memories... Yesterday... all my troubles seemed so faraway... We had a blog and it was super-cool... Oh, I believe in blogs and stuff...

Well, it's time to recapture the glory. I'll lead the way with a series of "back to basics" posts designed to get the ol' blog juices flowin' again. But first, some music to get you back in the blogging spirit. (If Liquid Swords doesn't motivate you to get that ass bloggin', then nothing will).


On to the post:

Ryan's Mid-Season Fantasy Baseball All-Star Team

(Yes, I'm aware that every fantasy baseball site has done some version of this. Mine is different because it's based on player values in our awesome 47x23 league):

C Geovany Soto (Streakier than bacon, yes, but he gets the edge due to draft position)

1B Adrian Gonzalez (although Pujols in round 2 still looks pretty good)

2B Chase Utley (The first person who taunts me with a "Where's Howie Kendrick?" comment gets a plastic bag full of angry bees in the mail...)

3B Chipper Jones

SS Hanley Ramirez

OF Lance Berkman

OF I can't decide whether to put Sizemore here, or Holliday. Sizemore leads the AL in dongs, and 40/40 is still within sight. Holliday missed some time and he's still raking, with an OPS of 1.000+. Plus he's running more. Fuck it, I'll go with Grady Sizemore. He's living up to a draft position that I felt was too high at the time (12th overall).

OF Josh Hamilton (Yeah, I traded for him at peak value. And yeah, he's only hitting .273 for my team. But he's in the Home Run Derby, bitches, so fuck ya'll. Home. Run. Derby. Last I checked, only SUPERSTARS get invited to that party...).

U Dan Uggla

U Ian Kinsler

U Corey Hart

SP Tim Lincecum (Yeah, I traded him. Shut up. Just shut up).

SP Edinson Volquez (Hit a bump in the road recently, with 11 earned runs and more walks than Ks over his past three starts, but he has otherwise been filthier than Duquan).

SP Ben Sheets

RP Francisco Rodriguez (K-Rod mashed after a shaky April. The only thing that can stop him now is if Bobby Thigpen goes Gillooly on him. Or if he has some other sort of non-Thigpen inflicted injury or something. Not to jinx him or anything, Ebner. [it should be noted that I have an irrational amount of love for Bobby Thigpen]).

RP George Sherrill (I love you, George, but I hope the Birds trade you while your value is inflated. Milwaukee needs a closer, and Baltimore could use another prospect to help them in their run to the World Series in 2011).

RP Kerry Wood (Drafted in the 19th round; surrounded by a ton of questions going into the season; has thus far silenced any concerns).

P Cliff Lee (or Ervin Santana)

P Zack Greinke (it's tough to leave the perpetually-underrated Roy Halladay off this list, but Greinke was a 24th-rounder [acquired by the Chipperbot via trade] and his 13 Quality Starts, 96 Ks, and decent WHIP make him an absolute steal that late in the draft)

P Scott Kazmir (I just really love Scott Kazmir. Question for the O's fans: Is it wrong that I love the Rays almost as much as I love the Orioles?)


So who am I overlooking here? Should it be Doumit instead of Soto? Who have I overhyped? Should Milton Bradley be on this list? How about Longoria? Pat the Bat?

Blog Blog Blog...

Owie Kendrick

Here's an update on my fantasy baseball team thus far, told through a series of open letters to Howie Kendrick:

May 20, 2008

Dear Howie,

Hey, buddy. It’s me, Ryan. You know, the guy who drafted you in the sixth round? The guy who deliberately chose you even though Miguel Tejada was still on the board? How are you feeling? How’s that hammy? Still sore? I’m sorry that you don’t feel well, Howie. I wish there was something I could do to make you feel better. You’re in my thoughts, Howie. Everyday. I’d say that you’re in my prayers, too, but your injury and the time you’ve missed this year have led me to believe that if God does exist—and I have my doubts now—then He's nothing more than a twisted puppet master intent upon killing my fantasy baseball team's hopes, one strained hamstring at a time.

I need you, Howie. More than ever. Guess who I’ve been starting in your absence? Here's a hint: His name rhymes with "Sticky Leaks," and even after getting eight hits in the past five games, he's still not hitting his weight. It's Rickie Weeks, Howie. Rickie Weeks. And let’s just say that it took Rickie weeks to get that average above Mendoza this year.

Don't make me beg, Howie. I’m sorry that you’re in pain. I’m sorry that this muscle strain continues to sideline you. I’m sorry that your papier-mâché cotton candy motherfucking hamstring is still sore. I’m sorry that it’s taken you and your goddamn silly putty fucking body almost seven fucking weeks to recover from a goddamn motherfucking “hamstring strain.” Really, I am. I think I strained my hamstring once. I can’t really remember. Because it was a fucking strain. I probably just walked it off, or I poured some Tussin on it, or I drank beer until it didn't hurt anymore. The point is, it didn't prevent me from maintaining my active lifestyle of tossing the football around and occasionally running to catch the subway. Whatever happened to playing with a little pain? Remember Lou Gehrig? Does that name ring a bell? In his final full season he smacked 29 dongs and put up a .933 OPS, and he was in such bad shape that they ended up naming the fucking disease after him. So get well soon, Howie. Or don’t. Whatever. I’m riding the Clint Barmes train now.

Warmest Regards,
Ryan

That better be one of those special hamstring injury-healing pies

May 22, 2008

Hey Howie,

I'm sorry I got mad at you yesterday. I know that you want to be out there playing. And thanks for your reply. Thanks for pointing out that you wouldn't even take yourself in the 6th round, that your own mom waited until round 10 to pick you, and that I drafted "like Matt Millen" this year. If that's the case, then I guess that makes you my Charles Rogers, huh? Or my Mike Williams? Or my Every-Other-Stupid-Fucking-Bust-Ever? But really, I know your absence is only a small part of why my team is wallowing in 6th place right now. I can’t blame you for the Fukumori Experiment. Or the great Kelvim Escobar Dice-Roll of 2008. And, much like drinking Jagermeister or betting on boxing, drafting Mark Teahen seemed like a good idea at the time. The fact that your hamstring apparently has the tensile strength of dental floss had no bearing on these poor draft-day decisions. I know this.

But you're still out. With that same muscle strain. The latest news is that you've gone "back to the drawing board." Help me out here, Howie. What the fuck does that even mean? MLB disabled lists tend to be, at best, nebulous realms of half-truths and meaningless designations, but I gotta admit: this has been the longest "15 day" stretch of my motherfucking life—even longer than those two weeks during the summer after my sophomore year in high school when our air conditioner and cable kicked out at the same time. I read a lot during those two weeks, Howie. I'm reading a lot now, too. Like how your hamstring strain has been downgraded to a "more severe hamstring strain." I want you to get better, Howie. And I know you want to get better. But Barmes is raking like a fucking gardener right now, and Rickie Weeks is getting on base any way he can. So take your sweet time, pal.

Best,

Ryan

This is how Ryan looked when his 6th round pick went down... and stayed down

May 23, 2008

Howie,

Yeah, that was me going through your trash last night. And yeah, I'm the one who's been mailing you those envelopes stuffed full of ham and string. And yes, I was the guy standing outside your window last night yelling, "If I need that goddamn DL spot for anyone other than Hafner, your ass is waivers-bound!" Thanks for calling the cops, Howie. This is the pat on the back I get for drafting you in round 6? I had faith, Howie. Now all I have is a resisting arrest charge and a few bruised ribs.

I woke up this morning and saw that your Yahoo News and Notes box had that red flashy thing on it. I clicked it, hoping to get some good news. Instead, I got this giant middle finger of a Player Note:

May 22 Lyle Spencer, of Angels.MLB.com, reports Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim 2B Howie Kendrick (hamstring) worked out Thursday, May 22, and said his leg felt much better than the last time he ran. There is no timetable for his return.

Thanks a fucking lot, Lyle Spencer. Your leg feels better, Howie! That's great news! And yet, there's still "no timetable" for your return. In the meantime, Chris Young just went on the DL after taking an Albert Pujols line drive to the face. Oh, and ol' Moist-Hands Alou strained his calf last night and was immediately placed on the DL. I guess you don't take too many chances with the body of a 173-year-old. And Barmes will inevitably stop raking soon, and I don't know if I have the stomach to ride the Rickie Weeks Sooper Dooper Looper for the rest of the season. So I'll ask again: when are you coming home, Howie? Because what my team really needs right now is a .300 hitter who contributes little else across all the other stat categories. You know, like Moises. Without the piss-covered hands.

Fondly,
Ryan

An actual MRI of Howie Kendrick's hamstring

May 24, 2008

Dear Howie,

Clint Barmes just went on the DL. Fuck the world.

Sincerely,
Ryan



May 25, 2008

Dear Aaron Hill,

Hi, my name is Ryan…