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| At Fenway. Of course. |
Raj
Friday, August 23, 2013
Root, root, root...
Disclaimer: OK, OK, I know we're supposed to be backing off on the Memememememememe shit, but this is important background for what's to come, think of it as Due Diligence.
The question you need to ask yourself is this: Do I feel this way about baseball because of the teams & players that I love, or do I love these teams and players because I feel this way about baseball?
I can't answer that, maybe you can.
As far as favourite teams go, it shakes down to about this:
Modern/Current MLB: The beloved Boston Red Sox. Of course.
With a very strong place in my heart for the dearly departed Montreal Expos.
And, of course, the also defunct mighty Edmonton Trappers (specifically 1983–1992, the Angels era).
Four-time Pacific Coast League Champions, and owner of probably the fucking stupidest and most boring mascot in organized baseball.
Yeah, his name was Homer.
And yeah, he was a giant baseball.
Yeesh.
I come to you as a proud graduate of the Visitors' dugout bleachers at (the yet ALSO departed) John Ducey Park, the aptly named Animal House (fans bringing kids were strongly encouraged to sit in the 1st base bleachers on the other side, to safeguard their more delicate sensibilites), proximity to which Homer strenuously avoided, under constant threat of being pelted with beer cups and greasy hot dog and french fry boats.
Good times.
Classic teams, well, that would definitely be the Homestead Grays of Pittsburgh and Washington DC, from the American Negro League (1929), East-West (Negro) League (1932), and finally the Negro National League (1935-48).
Yeah, it's like that.
I fucking HATE them cocksuckers, even if you think you hate them, I hate them worse.
The question you need to ask yourself is this: Do I feel this way about baseball because of the teams & players that I love, or do I love these teams and players because I feel this way about baseball?
I can't answer that, maybe you can.
As far as favourite teams go, it shakes down to about this:
Modern/Current MLB: The beloved Boston Red Sox. Of course.
And, of course, the also defunct mighty Edmonton Trappers (specifically 1983–1992, the Angels era).
Yeah, his name was Homer.
And yeah, he was a giant baseball.
Yeesh.
I come to you as a proud graduate of the Visitors' dugout bleachers at (the yet ALSO departed) John Ducey Park, the aptly named Animal House (fans bringing kids were strongly encouraged to sit in the 1st base bleachers on the other side, to safeguard their more delicate sensibilites), proximity to which Homer strenuously avoided, under constant threat of being pelted with beer cups and greasy hot dog and french fry boats.
Good times.
Classic teams, well, that would definitely be the Homestead Grays of Pittsburgh and Washington DC, from the American Negro League (1929), East-West (Negro) League (1932), and finally the Negro National League (1935-48).
Yeah, it's like that.
But truthfully, I don't really hate any teams, although I do have a fondness for AL, because that's the kind of fucking guy I am.
Oh, except for them universally loathed, despised, reviled and benighted filth merchants who stink up the SkyDome and points south all season long.
I fucking HATE them cocksuckers, even if you think you hate them, I hate them worse.
Because I'm bigger.
Now I went and pissed all over my monitor screen.
Great.
Raj
Thursday, August 22, 2013
Batting Order
OK, so a few basic concepts before we go any further.
Be advised, I will be referencing myself somewhat in this post, but, with the exception of the occasional (emphasis on occasional) pertinent anecdote down the road, that ain't what this deal is about, and we will be endeavouring heroically to keep the content as Beldone-free as possible.
Because, you know, fuck that shit.
So.
The baseball.
Now, don't make the mistake of thinking that I'm presenting here as some kind of authority, in the Big Picture, I don't know Jack Shit.
Especially compared to a lot of you SOBs.
People like Brother Cisco, Hinkley, The Amazing Zender, and (especially) my beloved friend Hammy, can all run circles around me in terms of stats, history, and general ball knowledge, bless their wee cotton socks.
This is just me slinging crap about the game and things about it I love and all.
Oh and I guess, for a while, we'll be lookin at some Ball Movies (big fuckin surprise), more on that later.
I'm not trying to tie things down to any specific area of focus, we'll just see where we get to.
So grab your glove.
Raj
Be advised, I will be referencing myself somewhat in this post, but, with the exception of the occasional (emphasis on occasional) pertinent anecdote down the road, that ain't what this deal is about, and we will be endeavouring heroically to keep the content as Beldone-free as possible.
Because, you know, fuck that shit.
So.
The baseball.
Now, don't make the mistake of thinking that I'm presenting here as some kind of authority, in the Big Picture, I don't know Jack Shit.
Especially compared to a lot of you SOBs.
People like Brother Cisco, Hinkley, The Amazing Zender, and (especially) my beloved friend Hammy, can all run circles around me in terms of stats, history, and general ball knowledge, bless their wee cotton socks.
This is just me slinging crap about the game and things about it I love and all.
Oh and I guess, for a while, we'll be lookin at some Ball Movies (big fuckin surprise), more on that later.
I'm not trying to tie things down to any specific area of focus, we'll just see where we get to.
So grab your glove.
Let's play.
Raj
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
Opening Day
I realize that, for some of you, this may be coming totally out of left field (get it?)
Others of you are well aware of my embarrassingly excessive love of this, The Greatest Game Ever Played.
Either way, welcome.
I hope you have half as good a fuckin time reading this shit as I do spouting it.
*Please note the incredibly wicked cool image in our header, it's Mighty Josh, by the incredibly gifted artist and ball lover, Mr. Kadir Nelson
from his book We Are the Ship: The Story of Negro League Baseball
Our header image depicts my favourite player of all time, the one and only Josh Gibson of Pittsburgh's (and Washington's, yeah, it worked like that) Homestead Grays (that's also Josh on the cover of the book), maybe the greatest hitter ever to play, on deck warming up.
More about Josh in the weeks to come.
Much more.
I really like Mr. Nelson's work, and I'm sure you will too, unless you're a TOTAL lameass, in which case, you know, don't let the door hit you where the Good Lord split you etc.
Among many other appealing qualities, Mr. Nelson's work can sometimes resonate with the exceptional paintings of the one and only Mr Ernie Barnes.
(And, naturally, there has to be one of these deals too: Ernie Barnes actually PLAYS Josh Gibson in this '81 TV movie (which we've never seen). Of course he does.)
We strongly urge you to visit Mr. Nelson's site at http://www.kadirnelson.com
Fucking buy something while you're there, you won't be sorry.
Raj
Others of you are well aware of my embarrassingly excessive love of this, The Greatest Game Ever Played.
Either way, welcome.
I hope you have half as good a fuckin time reading this shit as I do spouting it.
*Please note the incredibly wicked cool image in our header, it's Mighty Josh, by the incredibly gifted artist and ball lover, Mr. Kadir Nelson
from his book We Are the Ship: The Story of Negro League Baseball
Our header image depicts my favourite player of all time, the one and only Josh Gibson of Pittsburgh's (and Washington's, yeah, it worked like that) Homestead Grays (that's also Josh on the cover of the book), maybe the greatest hitter ever to play, on deck warming up.
More about Josh in the weeks to come.
Much more.
I really like Mr. Nelson's work, and I'm sure you will too, unless you're a TOTAL lameass, in which case, you know, don't let the door hit you where the Good Lord split you etc.
Among many other appealing qualities, Mr. Nelson's work can sometimes resonate with the exceptional paintings of the one and only Mr Ernie Barnes.
(And, naturally, there has to be one of these deals too: Ernie Barnes actually PLAYS Josh Gibson in this '81 TV movie (which we've never seen). Of course he does.)
We strongly urge you to visit Mr. Nelson's site at http://www.kadirnelson.com
Fucking buy something while you're there, you won't be sorry.
Raj
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