Super Bowl

At one point during the Super Bowl -- when they showed a close-up of Ben Rothlisberger -- one of my friends asked, "Didn't that guy rape a chick?"

A girl slightly misheard the question and asked, "What? That guy raped a chicken?"

This led me to wonder:

Which is worse?

Which of the two acts would leave him further ostracized from American society? If he raped a woman? Or if he raped a chicken?

Would you be more likely to let your daughter date his son if he had raped a woman? or a chicken?

Would he be quarterbacking a Super Bowl team with millions of Pittsburgh fans cheering him on wildly if he had been caught raping a chicken?

(I'm not trying to make a point here, I've really just been stuck on this.)

...

I might not be ready to have a child:

I was sitting on the couch yesterday watching the game, when all of the sudden, out of the corner of my eye I noticed what I thought was a little toddler crawling towards us with a parent behind him.

Instinctively, I felt annoyed and thought to myself, "Oh man, who brought the kid? What a pain in the ass."

Then I turned my head to look and was relieved to see that it wasn't a kid. It was just a cat.

I was actually relieved to see that it was a cat.

I am allergic to cats.

...

Hambone and I made our first official Super Bowl pick last night. We took Green Bay -1.5. (They won by 6)

I liked Green Bay, plus I wanted to cheer for Green Bay, so when Hambone called me before the game I listed every reason I could come up with to explain why Green Bay would cover the spread.

I probably rambled uninterrupted for a couple of minutes, and after I finished, Hambone said, "Of all the things you just said, there were two that really got me to believe in the Green Bay pick: 1) you said that Green Bay's defense hits people in the mouth, and 2) you said that Pittsburgh only won two regular season games against playoff teams." (Atlanta and Baltimore)

Next year, I'll post our pick before the game.

...

Ok, the reason I'm afraid of kids right now is because of one kid in particular.

...

Here's a clip from my pre-super bowl madden game. It's pretty easy to post videos on youtube

Cruz Control

The fifth and deciding game of the American League Divisional Series between the underdog Texas Rangers and the Tampa Bay Rays was tied 1-1 with two outs in the top of the fourth inning when the Rangers' young slugger Nelson Cruz came up to face the Rays' All-Star pitcher David Price.

Tampa Bay entered the postseason with the best record baseball, and Price was not only their best pitcher, but was one of the one best pitchers in baseball. On the other hand, Texas entered the post season with the worst record of any playoff team and had not been expected to even make it to the fifth game of this series.

But with two balls and two strikes in the fourth inning of a 1-1 game, Cruz crushed a pitch to left center field and -- abandoning baseball etiquette -- stood in the batter's box and admired his shot for a couple of seconds before beginning his slow celebratory home-run trot around the bases.

As Cruz approached first base, he realized that the ball had not left the park, but had actually bounced off the wall and back into the field of play, so he hustled to second base.


It is considered showboating for a hitter to stand in the batter's box and admire his shot after hitting a home-run. However, ever since players like Barry Bonds and Manny Ramirez began doing it regularly, more players have taken to admiring their home-run balls and trotting around the bases. (If a hitter did this before the Bonds/Ramirez era, he was likely to get a ball thrown at him in his next at-bat.)

Cruz has slightly above average speed, so he could have easily made it to third base on the play if he had hustled -- some especially fast runners might have even scored. But instead, the home-run trot cost Cruz third base, and so with two outs in the top of the 4th, Cruz was stuck on second base.


The chances of a runner with Cruz's speed scoring from third base on a single is similar to his chances of scoring from second. So in that sense, being on second base with two outs versus being on third base was not a significant disadvantage. However, there is a definite advantage to being at third base because in addition to the greater chances of scoring on a single, there is also the possibility of scoring on a wild pitch (which can't be done from second.)

Johnnie O and I got quite a kick out this. We laughed at Cruz for trotting around the bases on a ball that didn't go out of the park, and we imagined how angry his coaches and teammates must have been. Even more, we laughed at how embarrassed Cruz himself must have been for showboating and costing his team a base at the most important moment of the most important game of his life.

We imagined what must have been going through Cruz's mind as he stood there on second base, helpless, knowing that every player on both teams, plus the thousands of fans in attendance and millions of fans watching on national television had just seen him make an incredibly dumb play.


Another rule of thumb in baseball is that a baserunner should never make the final out of an inning at third base, because like I said above, the chances of scoring from third on a single are only slightly greater than they are from second (so a runner shouldn't take the chance of being thrown out at third and completely wiping out any scoring possibility.) (And the possibility of scoring on a wild pitch is negligible compared to a runner's chances of being thrown out trying to steal third base.)

Stealing third base is a difficult task in major league baseball. The throw from home plate to third base is much shorter than the throw from home plate to second base, and since being on third base with two outs is not much of an upgrade over being at second base with two outs, stealing third base with two outs is something that almost never happens.

But Cruz knew he had messed up by admiring his shot, so on Price's very first pitch to the next batter, Cruz took off to steal third!

Cruz is a player known more for his power than his speed, but not being one to abide by conventional wisdom, he attempted to atone for his showboating by trying to steal third base with two outs in a tie game of the deciding game of a playoff series against the best team in baseball!


"Oh my God, what an idiot!!" I shouted as he took off for third.

I imagined the wrath that Cruz -- who had only stolen third base 12 times in his entire six year career, and probably never with two outs -- would face as he went back to the dugout to get his glove after being thrown out to end the inning and wiping out his team's chance to take the lead in the final game of the series.

Johnnie O said what Texas manager Ron Washington was likely thinking, "Oh nooooo!"

"He's either dumb, or he's crazy!"I shouted.


Not only did Cruz's steal attempt surprise me and Johnnie O, but it also surprised the Rays. Pitcher David Price barely even looked back to hold Cruz at second base before going into a full windup and throwing a slow breaking ball -- both of which are more susceptible to a stolen base. And catcher Kelly Shoppach didn't seem ready to make a throw, because the throw he made to catch Cruz at third was off target.

As third baseman Evan Longoria jumped to try and catch the errant throw from Shoppach, Cruz slid in underneath him and safely into third base.

And when the ball went flying over Longoria's head and into left field, Cruz got up and ran in to score the go-ahead run!


Looking back, I think maybe Cruz is smarter than I initially gave him credit. Maybe he trotted to second on purpose because he wanted to catch the Rays off guard by trying to steal third and forcing a bad throw that would allow him to score the go-ahead run. If he had hustled to third like he was supposed to on his long fly ball, then he would have had to rely on the next batter to drive him in. Instead, Nelson Cruz -- the pride of Monte Cristi -- took matters into his own hands.

Nelson Cruz, I salute you!!

Here's the highlight.


And for all of my female fans who didn't care much for this baseball post, here's a picture of Nelson Cruz naked:

(Well, he's naked, but you can't see anything more than the top of his buttcrack. So I apologize to women and gay men (and straight men) who were hoping to see his penis or his asshole.)

Fantasy Baseball

This weekend is my fantasy baseball auction in Indianapolis. Since I haven't had a chance to write anything this week, I'm going to post something that I wrote on our Fantasy Baseball league message board. (I wrote this at work last year, so I actually typed it out in g-mail, and I was just randomly cleaning out my drafts today and found it still saved in there)

(Listen, this is not for everyone. It might not necessarily even be for baseball fans. Trust me.)

Backstory: This post came about when Spencer -- another owner in our league -- texted me one morning because his team was in last place, and asked that I give them a pep talk. I can't tell you how quickly I wrote this. I just started typing, and this is what came out.

Characters: Mike Hargrove is a former MLB manager who is the mythical manager of my team. And I have given myself a certain type of persona as a fantasy baseball owner. Ok, here's the post:

AP, May 18, 2009

Chaz Irani and Mike Hargrove paid a visit to star pitcher Johan Santana at his Greenwich compound this morning. After the visit, they all decided to take a trip into midtown for manicures, massages and lunch. On their way in, Santana asked the limo driver to stop at the new Yankee Stadium so he could get his first look at the park. As the three toured the dugout, Irani spotted BBQ Batsmen owner Spencer King walking towards the field with Alex Rodriguez.

After exchanging pleasantries and agreeing on a weekend when Irani would take his family to stay with King at his winter home in Waialua Beach, King mentioned that his team was in the locker-room for a meeting and suggested that Irani pop in to visit his former pitcher CC Sabathia.

Most of the players conversed by their lockers when Irani entered the room, although none were very animated because the defending champion Batsmen were in last place. Irani and Sabathia hugged and spoke for a few minutes, and then Irani addressed the team.

"Listen, I don't have much to say, except that your team owner is one of the true gentlemen of this league, and if I were you, I'd be working really hard to get him back up to the top where he belongs. So it's time to pick it up. There's a lot of talent in this locker-room, lets put it to good use."

Irani noticed Randy Johnson sulking at his corner locker. Knowing his reputation as a sensitive player, he thought little of it and continued. "I think once everyone gets healthy, things'll turn around for you. So hang in there."

After his speech, Irani asked King to join him for lunch, King gladly accepted. And as Irani prepared to leave, he commented, "Meet us at La Bernadin at noon, bring CC, and bring Randy too."

King was surprised. "Don't you have to wear a jacket in that place. They didn’t let Bloomberg eat lunch in there last week because he didn’t have a jacket, it was all over Page Six. And don't you need to book a few weeks in advance to get a table?"

"Don't worry, just tell them you're with me."

Irani, Hargrove and Santana were already on their second bottle of Lafitte when King's party arrived at the waiting area. The silver-haired tuxedo clad maitre'd immediately noticed them and rudely commented (with a French accent), "I'm sorry gentlemen, but as you can see, a jacket is required."

King hesitantly replied, "Uh, we're with Irani, should be a party of 6."

The maitre'd shivered and dropped to his knees. "Oh my god, I am so sorry. Sil vous plait. Oh god, oh god. Oh god oh god oh god."

"It's ok man, don't worry about it, can we go in now?"

"Oh my god! Of course, of course! Please, can I get you anything for your walk to the table? I'll send over caviar, it's on me. Oh, so sorry for the inconvenience."

Sabathia jumped in, "There's no inconvenience man, how were you supposed to know we were with him?"

"Oh god." The maitre'd looked straight down, "We're supposed to know. Oh my god, we're supposed to know."

"Don't worry about it man, it's cool."

The maitre'd dry heaved, "Oh god, I've been here for 20 years, and now this... At the worst time... with my daughter just starting college."

"Man, it's ok"

"Oh thank you, thank you." He paused for a moment and continued, "May I?"

"May you what?"

"May I rise from my knees?"

Sabathia looked at King, he was confused, then he looked back at the maitre'd, "Yeah man, of course you can rise."

The maitre'd kept his eyes on the floor, but stood up and hurriedly ushered the men through the crowded restaurant and into Irani's section towards the back of the restaurant.

Upon seeing the party, he quickly dropped to his knees, focused his eyes on the ground and pointed towards their table.

The caviar arrived as they sat, and Irani – with caviar already dripping down his chin – asked, "What's with the extra caviar?"

Sabathia looked over to Santana, and answered, "Man, this guy was freaking out because he didn't realize that we were with you, but as soon as Spencer said your name, he dropped to his knees and started apologizing like crazy. Then he said he'd send over some caviar on him."

Irani looked up at the maitre'd, "We've already got caviar."

The maitre'd paused and continued to look at the ground and finally said, "Sorry sir, I didn't know..."

"Look don't worry about it man, It's cool." Irani replied.

The owner walked over to their eating area, "Mr. Irani, is everything ok?"

"Yeah, everything's fine thanks, and we'll take another Lafitte. And it better be pre-revolutionary war this time!"

The owner smiled. Irani looked back at him and then quickly pointed his pinky finger at the maitre'd, and made a subtle shake of his head.

The owner immediately began to escort the Maitre'd away, "Come on, lets go."

"What? Am I fired?"

"Of course you're fired."

After a couple of more bottles of Lafitte, they were ready to order, Hargrove pressed a button on the table and the executive chef quickly rushed into the room. "What can I get for you today?"

"Ladies first..." Irani said as he pointed at King.

King ordered the squab, Sabathia ordered two lobsters, and Johnson ordered the monkfish.

Hargrove and Santana both ordered Kobe Beef, leaving all eyes on Irani.

Irani looked to Johnson, "Hey Randy, what did you say you were having?"

"I'm gonna try the monkfish." He sheepishly replied.

"Oh yeah? Monkfish? Hang on a second." Irani stood up and headed towards the kitchen, "I'm gonna run back to the kitchen and take a look at the monkfish to help me decide, I'll be right back"

A few minutes later, Irani returned carrying a 15 lb slab of Kobe Beef. He smiled and approached Johnson, "Hey, guys, take a look at the Kobe Beef today, you should really consider trying it. Look at that marbling."

He walked over to Randy while cradling the slab of beef in his arms like a baby, "Take a look at this."

Randy looked at it and said, "Ok, I'll have that instead."

"Anyone else?"

Sabathia also changed his mind too, "Yeah, switch one of my lobsters with a cut of the Kobe."

"Ok, sounds good, I'm gonna take this back to the kitchen, I'll be right back."

Irani turned to leave the room, but paused for a moment and turned back, "Oh yeah, Randy..."

As Johnson turned to look back, Irani quickly grabbed the beef like a baseball bat and swung it has hard as he could at Johnson's face.

The impact sent Johnson tumbling out of his chair and onto the ground. As he scrambled to get up, Irani dove on top of him, leading with the slab of beef. He shoved the raw beef into Johnson's face. With Johnson’s head pressed against the ground, Irani shouted, "You're out there wearing Spencer King's uniform and getting embarrassed on that mound, and then you have the audacity to sit down to break bread with us and you're gonna order the goddamn monkfish??!! Huh?"

Johnson voice was muffled as he tried to shout through the beef.

"What'd you say? Huh? What'd you say to me? I can't hear you! You're gonna have to speak up!"

He continued to violently smother Johnson with the beef. He momentarily lifted it from his mouth to allow Johnson a desperate gasp of air, then he immediately shoved the beef back on his face, and this time, he actually tried to stick a portion of it into Johnson’s mouth, "Eat it! Eat it you motherfucker!! Eat the beef!!"

Johnson was no longer struggling, the life was getting choked out of him. Irani put his mouth to Johnson’s ear and whispered, "Eat the goddamn beef, brother."

He kept his mouth there for a few more seconds, and then screamed, "EAT THE BEEF!!! EAT! THE! BEEEEEEEF!"

Johnson’s head and body were motionless, his limbs twitched.

"HUH? YOU HEAR ME?"

Irani finally removed the beef from Johnson's face and stood up.

Johnson laid there motionless for a few seconds, and then coughed and slowly turned to his side and vomited.

Irani heaved the slab of beef at Johnson's head, the impact slammed his head into the ground and knocked him unconscious. Irani looked up briefly, and noticed that a crowd had gathered. He turned to the executive chef and quietly said, "Cancel his order, he's gonna have the beef."

"And for you sir?"

"Hmm,,,, you know what... I'll try that monkfish."

He studied the room and said, "And get that goddamn maitre'd in here to clean up this mess before he leaves."

Santana looked a bit uneasy from the smell of the vomit and began to make his way towards the bathroom, he stopped, turned around and looked back at Hargrove and asked "Hey, can you toss me my shirt?"

Hargrove took the shirt off the couch behind the table and threw it to Santana, who laughed and threw it back and said, "That's Cyrus's shirt. Mine is the tank top."

Hargrove lifted the tank top off the couch and tossed it to Santana. Santana caught it and put it on and headed to the bathroom.