Another Definition:

Ominous (adj.) 1) Evoking a sense of trepidation or foreboding 2) Manny Ramirez

Clash of the Talking Heads Rd. 6

This is my preferred blog to post after a loss in the final game of a road series sours my satisfaction a little bit. (2 out of 3 seems to break the Seattle mojo...but...ah well)

Tonight's Contestants: Dave Sims, Mike Blowers and [occasionally] Dan Wilson of Fox Sports Northwest.

Credentials: Sims is a sports lifer, bouncing from job to job (mostly on the radio) and doing play-by-play* all the big three (football, basketball and baseball). Blowers (the regular play-by-play guy) was a utility infielder who bounced around the majors for a decade and is the every day wing man on air. Meanwhile Wilson, an occasional guest color-man, spent 14 years as a catcher (and did all but two of those years in Seattle).

*It's worth noting that the Mariners do have a hall-of-famer on staff (Dave Niehaus) but between technical malfunctions and Fox's monopoly on Saturdays I only saw one game of this series and Sims called it.

Analysis: It was a tale of two ball games yesterday. The pitchers duel and the sudden outburst at the end. Throughout the pitchers duel the cadre of hitters seemed kind of dumbstruck as to what to say. Pavano and French worked so quickly that Sims barely had time to welcome the audience back, say the names of the hitters, rattle off a promo and mutter "Valencia to Cuddyer and another out". Any other down time was spent on little gimmicks including allowing a kid into the press box (he wasn't talkative), singing the Patty Duke theme song, and offering a hot plate of Rally Fries to two lucky fans. (The Seatttle equivalent of getting circled)

Once there was finally something to talk about (from Cuddy's homer on) the booth sprang to life. Sims was especially excited by any hit (after two long hitless spells, I would be too) and Blowers made a few guesses as to what pitches weren't working for Pavano any more. Once the scoring was done and the game settled down again, both Sims and Blowers seemed peppier, but didn't really know what to say now that the ball was in the bullpen's hands.

Rating: Incomplete. I would like to be definitive about this, and I think there are too many strange variables to consider here. With a spastic game, a recalcitrant child, and the absence of the consensus best broadcaster on the team, the Mariners probably deserve a second chance to define themselves. So, as I've told my students in the past: "Think about my notes, and make sure this the best you can do."

(In case you're wondering why I blogged this when I was going to give them an incomplete: hey, you would too if the alternative was writing a thesis....which I should probably go do...sigh...)

Dr. Cakeburn Rises Again! (A silly short story)

Last week, when Kevin Slowey left the rotation a cry rose up from the panicked citizens of Twinnesota: "WHO SHALL SAVE OUR ROTATION FROM IT'S DARKEST HOUR!?!?" The situation was dire. We could hear our rivals in the Kingdom of the Pale Hosers cackling with glee as our resurgent Slo-Slo suffered a painful set back. We needed a hero, someone to step up and rescue us before a bad situation got worse.

The General Magistrate of Twinnesota (Bill Smith) conferred with the wise little Garden Gnome. "Shall we trade our livestock?" mused Smith "Perhaps the bear cubs might give us a hero if we send them a dozen cows, seven pigs and a sheep to be named later."

"Nay," said the Gnome, "it shall not be"

"Can anyone in our pen of bulls help, just as Sir Duensing has done?"

"Nay," said the Gnome, "it shall not be"

"Swarzak?" quacked a hopeful duck in the corner. (No one listened to him)

"We shall call on the Doctor," said the Gnome with a smile. "Yes," grinned the Magistrate, "the nefarious doctor!"

And so it was announced to the people: The Nefarious Dr. Cakeburn, he who had been cursed and vilified and banished for crimes against the ERA, would return to Twinnesota.

And there was much gnashing of teeth and rending of garments and tearing of hair and burning of effigies and eating of cheese curds. "HE STINKS!" cried the citizens. "HE SUCKS!!! DRESS HIM UP AS A SHEEP AND SEND HIM TO THE BEAR CUBS!!!" (This had been their cry for many months before, and it was their cry again.)

But the Dr. Cakeburn was a changed man, a man with a new cupcake at home that needed to be cared for, and so he reapplied his mastery of pitching and baking to the needs of his friends in

Twinnesota. He tried to implement psychology to his advantage. To know what his rivals feared and exploit it. Tasked with besting the Seatilians, he remembered that Mariners (especially

Ancient ones) would run in terror from an albatross cake (or so said his literature teacher). So first went the cake, next came the fear, and finally came the pitches like so many divebombing albatrii...albatrosses...something.

And thus did Dr. Cakeburn regain his former glory to much cheering and hooting from the Twinnesotans who had only moments ago called him many dirty things, and who will likely do it again when next he struggles...but Dr. Cakeburn does not care, he will fight for Twinnesota all the same. He may not be the hero we want, but he is the hero we need.

P.s. Seriously, congrats to Nick Blackburn on starting a new family (and the win too...but I'm guessing the family's a little more important)

Viva Espana!

To be sure winning last night was awesome (particularly given Seattle's inexplicable mojo against us when we're up in that soggy Washington air) but rather than focus on Joe's 3 hits, or Baker's continued resurgence, or the fact that Orlando Hudson asked to be circled by Bert (though, for the record, I'd prefer it if he had taken a sign with him on to the field).

No, lets focus on the inherent musicality of the spanish language and how merrily it rolls of our tongues when singing the Twins praises.

There's Little Danny Valencia, our freshest face on the infield, who got his first honest-to-goodness big league triple last night, our little boy is growing up right in front of our eyes. And, since I love making allusions to the futbol team which shares Danny's last name: I feel obliged to point out that while Danny Valencia prepares for a run at the playoffs, Valencia CF will try to run at their title through Manchester United (the Yankees of futbol), the scottish club Rangers (right after we played the Texas Rangers) and Buraspor (from Turkey...there's no amusing connection to baseball there...but hey, those first to a weird aren't they?). Go Danny! Go Bats! (Viva Los Che!)

Secondly, we should note that all of the sudden GM Billy Smith is picking up relievers like impulse buy bags of peanut M & Ms from the check out line shelves. In the space of a week we've grabbed two pretty solid relievers in Randy Flores and Brian Fuentes. Since Flores means "Flowers" and Fuentes means "Fountains" it naturally made me wonder if our old buddy Pablo Neruda had any poems featuring that kind of imagery. He doesn't, but Ms. Rosalia de Castro does! And sure enough it's chocked full of portent:

Along the long path

Now a pine grove, now a fountain appears

Which, bursting forth on the mossy rock

Descends noisily to the valley

And shining in the rays of sun

Between a sea of greenery are lost

Split in limpid streams

Give life to the wild flowers

And joining together in the Sar, the river

Which like a child who sleeps peacefully,

Reflecting the blue of skies

Flows slowly to be hidden in the foliage.

(From the google books form of The Cambridge Introduction to Spanish Poetry by, D. Gareth Walters, p. 36)

Now, CLEARLY, de Castro was writing about these waiver wire transactions, because our bull pen is near a row of pines, and the "Fountain" (Fuentes) will descend noisily on the valley of the midwest (by complaining about Angels fans), and the whole shining/lost thing probably refers to how hitters will have a hard time seeing his pitches in day games (and from his funky side throwing angle. Moreover he'll give life to flowers (reuniting with Flores from Colorado) and the two will join together to allow all children to sleep peacefully because the bullpen is now stronger than ever. Or not...you can write an essay about and send it to me if you want. (Sidenote: I'd really like a teaching job.)

So, well done Danny, Randy and Brian...excuse me...bueno trabajo Valencia, Flores y Fuentes! Viva Espana, y Viva Los Gemelos!!!

Clash of the Talking Heads Rd. 5

HUZZAH! A Win!!! (Though Vladmir Gurrero did his best to impale our hopes, we survived and we survived the onslaught of all things Texan, now we're off to the drizzly, coffee soaked, poetic nirvana that is: Seattle...cue ominous music).

But before we say goodbye to Arlington, it's time to review how the rest of the world lives with our ongoing series covering announcers throughout baseball.


Tonight's Contestants: Josh Lewin & Tom Grieve of Fox Sports Southwest
Credentials: Lewin, the play-by-play man (on the left in the picture above) has a history throughout the middle markets of baseball including stops in Baltimore, Detroit, Chicago and finally Texas (where he's been for 8 years). He turns up on Fox baseball from time to time, and spends weekends in September doing San Diego Chargers radio broadcasts. Grieve was an outfielder (invovled in a trade for Bert Blyleven!) then became a general manager in Texas, and then seems to have wandered into the announcer's booth, and there he stays.


Analysis: One of the first notes I made about these guys was when Lewin said on Monday: "I have a short attention span." No, kidding. To say that Rangers broadcasts are scattershot would be an understatement. Ranger's broadcasts are the Yosemite Sam of the broadcasting world, hitting a lot of things...but not many of them baseball related.



BUT! That's not always a bad thing...after all, Yosemite Sam is a pretty funny guy, and so is Josh Lewin. At various points during this series he went on extended riffs about Kleenex boxes, Mary Tyler Moore, Entourage, puppy chow, funny band names (Mouthful of Turf-face, any takers?) and hair braiding. At times, it almost seems like he's working out material for the next local open mic night, but most of the time it seems like you're just hanging out with one of your funniest friends and watching a ball game. Meanwhile, Grieve plays the straightman pretty well, and thanks everyone who sends the announcers food and gifts (there's a lot of them). Actual analysis isn't too common, both announcers rely on technological innovations (Fox-X-Mo and a Pitch Tracker doo-dad) and point out what the audience can already see, rather than offering additional depth to the game. These guys love their Rangers, love their community and love talking about whatever amuses them most.


Best Quote: Grieve: [Pointing out a Kleenex box sent to them by a fan] "T, is for Tissue."
Lewin: "And C, is for Cookie!"
*** Bonus Quote from Mark McLemore (who offers both depth of analysis and silly rejoinders to Lewin) "Jim Thome can turn the world on with his smile!"


Rating: 4 Blylevens. (Like I said, funny is funny--but I do like a little analysis, and therefore hope McLemore gets a chance at the big chair someday)

Photo credits for first photo: Photo attributed to Ben White

Dear CJ Wilson,

You know, I should be mad at you. I mean, we haven't lost a series since July. We haven't lost three in a row since before the All-Star Break. You seemed determined to make Joe Mauer your own, personal, statistical anomaly, thereby breaking the hearts of Twinnesotans everywhere. But rather than be angry, I am more convinced than ever that you are pretty cool dude.

Why, CJ Wilson, must you be so AWESOMELY NERDY!?!?

It's not just that you appeared in a video with the Lost creators (cool enough) or that you explain Lost on a blog which is simultaneously funny and smart (something I could certainly benefit from taking lessons on) or that you dig on chicks who hang out at Barnes and Noble, BUT YOU ALSO PLAY BASEBALL?!?!? (The sport of nerds from Stephen J. Gould to George Will)

Seriously, I don't like complications. It's far easier just to dislike anyone who doesn't have Minnesota on their shirts...but what with the sci-fi and the writing and the baseball and the nerdery...well I have to face the complication that no matter how confused I am by the strange and foriegn land known as "Texas" I think you are helping to bring the Nerdy back.

For this, we here at Peanuts from Heaven bestow upon you an august honor: you shall be a Lost doppleganger of the Baseball world. Normally we reserve this honor for the Twins (and of course, Jim Thome as the smoke monster) but clearly, anyone who takes time out of his pitching schedule to explain string theory deserves this plaudit.

So for making it cool to be a nerd, and serving as a bastion of dweebery in the the harsh Texas climate, you CJ Wilson are the Daniel Faraday of baseball (appearing out of seemingly-nowhere, a penchant for widebrimmed hats, sciency talk that few other people understand and appreciation for the fine art of facial hair).

So what would Faraday do in this series finale? Well, I would like to see you/Faraday try and convince your teammates that the only way to make it to the postseson is by travelling back in time to 1977 to detonate a hydrogen bomb...but that might have some negative side-effects (i.e. nuclear fallout in the present)...so why don't you get all the other Rangers to time travel and then join our team...we have beautifully knit Norweigan sweaters and other fine state fair products!

We await your decision,

PFH

Bahhh Texas...

This was our joint reaction last night at seeing the final score. In the spirit of that frustration we offer the following enumeration of a few things from Texas that make us go "Bahhh":

1) The Rangers: Hey, I was magnanimous yesterday, what's the deal guys? You guys lost to the Orioles...we beat the Orioles...ergo...[sigh] some people have no respect for logic.

2) Belt Buckles in the Shape of Your State: C'mon. Really? Maybe it's that I'm from Montana, a state as folksy and rugged as Texas only without all the ego, but honestly do you really need to prove your citizenship by wearing this? We get it your proud, if you wear feather boas with little Texas's on them, then I'll be impressed by your patriotic accessorizing.

3) Texas Toast: It's thick slices of bread. I can bake some and cut it thick. Look! it's Scruffy Toast! Please give me credit for culinary ingenuity.

4) Texas Hold 'Em: The "cool" poker game. Pssh! Just cause George Costanza plays your brand of cards doesn't make you better than the rest of us!

Sorry, I know that Texas is probably a nice place, filled with kind-hearted, down-to-earth folk, but Bahhh! Texas*. (If you have any BAHHH Texas moments, feel free to share them in the comments below.)

Now, despite our frequent antipathy towards the Lone Star State, we do have to give credit to tonight's starting pitcher C.J. Wilson. Southpaw. Ace. LOST nerd. Hard to root against him...but we'll try.

*Ed note: Thinking about this a little more, I want to make it clear that I don't dislike or disdain Texas, it's just that I can't fathom our cultural differences: like New Yorker artistic superiority, Californian weather smugness (I know it's hard to believe, but some peoplelike snow), Montanan isolationism or Minnesotan love of hot dish. Texas just does everything bigger.