The baseball season is over. The baseball decade is over. While it sure felt like Clayton Kershaw or Madison Bumgarner or Max Scherzer ruled the ’10s, it was the first overall pick a decade ago who had the truly captivating story that stretched from the beginning to the end of the 2010’s.Continue reading “The Decade of Stephen Strasburg”
I’m in the Milwaukee Airport, MKE to you aviation buffs, waiting for a flight to Denver. I have a 10:15 flight. I parked at 8:00. I’m now at the gate, after taking a bathroom break, and it’s 8:15. Ergo, I have time to give you a synopsis of the first 2 games of World Series 2019.
I’ll have to admit, I was wrong about the Astros. I was, however, correct about the Nationals. If any team was going to get past the Dodgers, it was the Nationals… and St. Louis stood merely as a speed bump on the way to the World Series.
I’ve never really thought much about a bucket list. Perhaps I should. Sure, when I was invincible in my 20s and life was forever, it was easier to put it off until later. Now, however, I am in my 30s and life is almost over, so it’s time to start spending my time more effectively. There’s still no solid bucket list item, except for one: I want to see a baseball game in all thirty Major League ballparks within my adult life.Continue reading “The California Baseball Bucket List Tour”
I am a fan of the Premier League Football team Tottenham Hotspur. However, I am not necessarily a zealous fan of football/futbol/soccer for one particular reason – the clock. Fine, I can handle players falling like bowling pins every time they feel a breeze go by from an opposing player. I can handle them laying on the pitch for five minutes writhing in pain grabbing whatever body part they felt was injured… and then getting up and playing some more.
OK, I can barely handle that. That’s dumb. Drag them off the field and get on with it.
What vexes me as much as Wisconsin drivers using the left lane like it’s their Sunday drive is clock management… or lack of clock management. Time was created by man, so let’s use it, shall we? When a player is egregiously fouled by an opposing player by something as awful as a tap on the shoulder and falls into a fetal position onto the field as if someone took their blankie? The clock keeps ticking time off the regulation 45 minute half. Doesn’t seem fair right?
To start, baseball still is “America’s Best Pastime.” Football is “America’s Biggest Obsession.” Now that I have you sports fanatics all in a lather, especially those of you who prefer to crush heads over crushing baseballs, I’m going to drag you deep into the depths of my MVP opinions, ones that I hold as close to my person as a pitcher does his glove when he’s talking to his catcher.
I could’ve just written “MLB League MVPs” and be done with it, but the word ‘position’ will become key. I’m also going to run through this starting with the senior circuit, the National League. Continue reading “America’s Best Pastime: Position Players 2019”
“What are you going to do now? Hit me? Is that it? I don’t see your reasoning so now you’re going to hit me?”
“Why does it always come to that? Seriously, why? Hitting you would be… well it would be completely unfair because I know what’s coming. It’s not exactly like you’re going to pop me with a surprise left.” Continue reading “Delicious Darkness of Delusion aka Math Hurts”