Hit by a Pitch

Song of the day: God’s Gonna Cut You Down by Johnny Cash (You know what’s weird? This song is everywhere lately. It keeps popping up in commercials, including one for a video game and one for some kind of Jeep. The song has been on my radar for a while because it plays at Rockies games when Joe Beimel takes the field. Joe Beimel is kind of awesome. I even named my fantasy baseball team after him.)
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This year, I’m playing fantasy baseball for the first time (well, the first time for real — I did it once before but did an autodraft and then totally forgot about my team). I wrote about my draft here. My plan then was to avoid all Red Sox and Yankees players and hopefully not totally suck ass. That has not changed.

So, what happened since then?

Well, to start, my team totally sucked ass. I think I managed to avoid 12th place, but I spent a few weeks in 11th place. I lost a lot. But I’ve been slowly moving up — very, very slowly, spot by spot. I’m now in 6th place. If I can stay in the top 6, I’ll make the playoffs, which would be awesome.

I drafted a few stinkers (a word I’m using because it fits in with my current grandma obsession, wherein I like things such as roses, fussy manicured topiary greenery, big silly glasses, and pillbox hats, except for the pillbox hats). Mike Napoli and Geovany Soto did nothing for me so I dropped them. Isn’t Napoli playing first base now? I don’t even know. Don’t tell me if these guys are good. I don’t even know who Jhonny Peralta is. Does he play for the Indians? Aren’t they so bad their moms won’t even watch? I had Kendry Morales until he had that stupid, stupid injury. I loved that guy.

If there’s one thing I did right (it should come as no surprise considering the name of this site), it was the pitching roster. Here’s who I had on opening day:

Ubaldo Jimenez (Col-SP)
John Danks (CWS-SP)
Jonathan Broxton (LAD-RP)
David Aardsma (Sea-RP)
Mark Buehrle (CWS-P)
Jorge De La Rosa (Col-P)
Ted Lilly (CHC-P) (DL)

Here’s who I have now:

Ubaldo Jimenez (Col-SP)
John Danks (CWS-SP)
Jonathan Broxton (LAD-RP)
Octavio Dotel (Pit-RP)
My Boyfriend Jon Garland (SD-SP)
Ted Lilly (CHC-P)
Mark Buehrle (CWS-P)
David Aardsma (Sea-RP)
Jorge De La Rosa (Col-P) (DL)

The rest of my opening-day roster:

Mike Napoli (LAA-C)
Geovany Soto (CHC-C)
Kendry Morales (LAA-1B)
Brandon Phillips (Cin-2B)
David Wright (NYM-3B)
Jhonny Peralta (Cle-3B, SS)
Troy Tulowitzki (Col-SS)
Miguel Tejada (Bal-SS)
Carlos Quentin (CWS-LF)
Michael Bourn (Hou-CF)
Brad Hawpe (Col-RF)
Nick Markakis (Bal-RF)
Vladimir Guerrero (Tex-Util)

Current:

Miguel Olivo (Col-C) (Who knew this guy would be awesome?)
Michael Cuddyer (Min-1B, 3B, RF)
Brandon Phillips (Cin-2B)
David Wright (NYM-3B)
Alexei Ramirez (CWS-SS)
Carlos Quentin (CWS-LF, RF)
Colby Rasmus (StL-CF, RF)
Brad Hawpe (Col-RF)
Vladimir Guerrero (Tex-Util)
Martin Prado (Atl-1B, 2B, 3B) (I picked him up off waivers! I’m serious!)
Nick Markakis (Bal-RF)
Michael Bourn (Hou-CF)
Troy Tulowitzki (Col-SS) (DL)

I’ll keep fighting the good fight (read: try to succeed in fantasy baseball without using Red Sox or Yankees). I’ll let you know how the second half of the Joe Beimel Fan Club’s season goes!

ETA: Holy crap you guys, I just accidentally “liked” this post. I don’t know how I did it or what that means, but I’m pretty sure you can’t really like your own post, especially when it’s as stupid as this one. If you can tell I did that, please be so kind as to ignore it. I don’t know how to “unlike” and anyway, that seems a little harsh — I mean, this post never did anything to me, you know?

Song of the day: You Remind Me of Something by R. Kelly
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I just read this GQ post, “The Best (and Worst) from MLB’s Broadcast Booth.” Guess who’s the worst: Ken “Hawk” Harrelson and Steve Stone of the Chicago White Sox. Ho hum. I’m not surprised, because hating on Hawk is about as easy as being a drunk Cubs fan who can’t name five players on the active roster. But still, that’s kind of lame.

This is the author’s biggest rip on Hawk:

Hawk is an unbearable homer. . . .

Well, sure. Hawk is a homer. My first question is: Is it okay to be a homer, as long as you’re not an “unbearable” homer? Where does that line get drawn? I’d guess that most, if not all, local sports announcers are homers to some degree.

I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. In fact, I like homer sports announcers, as long as they’re local. (I believe national sports announcers and reporters have a duty to be neutral. I also believe they have a duty to crawl out from up LeBron’s butt, but that’s an impossible dream.) I’d rather listen to someone like Hawk who’s a gung-ho crazy White Sox fan than someone who’s just going to objectively call the game.

The only time I can see being annoyed by a homer announcer is when you’re stuck watching the opposing team’s broadcast. I remember wanting to chew my arm off in a misguided attempt to escape a couple years ago while listening to a couple Red Sox broadcasts when the White Sox were in Boston. Now, however, thanks to the miracle of modern technology, this here internet, and mlb.tv, I can listen to Hawk and Steve Stone broadcast every game (or, with MLB At Bat on my iPhone, I can listen to Ed Farmer and Darrin Jackson, who are awesome, too).

I won’t pretend I’m not biased here — I love Hawk Harrelson. He’s  my favorite broadcaster in all of sports and my love for him probably borders on being is completely irrational. I know he’s not for everyone, though. I just don’t think the fact that he’s a homer is a valid (or interesting) criticism.

Song of the day: Full Moon by Armand Van Helden feat. Common
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The thing we probably miss most about Chicago is the food. I shit you not, guys — Chicago has the best food in the world. The food is not nearly as good in Denver, but I suppose that’s for the best and is why we’re not all fat here.

Anyway, back in the day when Ben and I were first dating, we used to go out to eat really good food all the time. One of our favorite places was Ezuli, which was at 1415 N. Milwaukee Ave. (they’ve closed). They served, as best I can remember, what was described as Caribbean food. They had good drinks and music, too. It was one of those places in Wicker Park with exposed brick and good food, where you’d go for dinner and stay to listen to whatever the DJ was spinning later while you have some drinks.

The one thing I remember eating there was this crazy-ass Caribbean-like bruschetta stuff. It made no sense but was really, really good. We figured that whoever came up with it was really high at the time.

Here’s how to make it, vaguely. I’m not a professional recipe-writer type, so I’m just doing this on the fly. If you have any questions, let me know and I’ll answer as best I can.

Stoner Bruschetta (or Peanut Butter Mango Bruschetta or Caribbean Bruschetta)

Ingredients

• sliced French bread
• a little butter
• thinly sliced onions
• peanut butter
• sliced mango
• blue cheese

Directions

Toast the bread or put it in the broiler for a bit to get it a little (but not too) crispy. Set aside. Melt butter in a frying pan and saute the sliced onions over low-ish heat until they’re caramelized (this takes a while but is totally worth it — trust me). Smear a nice little layer of peanut butter on each slice of bread. Layer the sliced mango on top of the peanut butter. Then add the caramelized onion. Top with a bit of blue cheese.

That’s it! It’s super easy and sounds kind of weird, but it’s really, really good. It goes well with beer, weed, or something made with rum and whatever the hell else you drink with rum. Enjoy!

I just have two quick things today.

First, go listen to this song now. It’s fun. Trust me.

Second, did you know that Ubaldo Jimenez threw the best pitch ever? He did. Check out this awesome post about it, complete with gif.

I haven’t written much about sports lately, but at the very least, I plan to update some of the “Players We Like” soon. I’ll be scoping out new info. on people like Jamaal Tatum (who is worse about updating his website than I am), Linas Kleiza (back in the NBA!), Julius Hodge, Jerry Owens, and Garrett Wolfe. If you’re Julian Sensley, let me know what’s going on in your life right now.

We arrived at last night’s Rockies game about half an hour late, but it was still the first inning. (We later heard that the game was delayed because somebody committed suicide by jumping off a bridge near Coors Field — no idea if it’s true but if it is, good thoughts to the surviving family and friends and anybody who saw it happen.) It was a slow and boring game, punctuated with the obnoxious cheers of an inordinate number of St. Louis Cardinals fans. (I like to say, when there are too many fans of the opposing team, “If St. Louis [or insert name of other city] is so great, why don’t you move back there?” unless you’re talking about White Sox fans, in which case there aren’t too many and I’m all, “Yay, my people!”) The wind picked up and the temperature dropped and by the sixth inning, the Rockies were getting hammered and we had a grumpy baby on our hands. So we became Those People Who Leave the Game Early (TPWLGE) (unnecessary and inappropriate capitalization makes me irrationally angry and I’m doing it here only because I’m irrationally angry at myself for being one of TPWLGE).

It takes us 15 minutes, tops, to walk to the car and drive home. After we got grumpy pants fed and to bed, I settled in to see that the Rockies were down 9-3. Ha! That sucks even more than it did when we were still at the game. Good thing we left early, suckas! I didn’t even know that it was about to start raining.

I started the ninth inning sitting at my computer waiting to update my stupid game log with the score. I had “Rockies 3 – Cardinals 9″ (I need to learn how to make em and en dashes on the Mac one of these days) already written. Then I changed it to “Rockies 4 – Cardinals 9.” Then crazy shit started to happen and I moved my butt to the couch to watch the rest of the game. (Note: I use a laptop, which yes, I could easily take with me to the couch, but when I’m not really trying to be on the internet, I leave it on my desk, which is right next to the couch.)

It turned out to be what the guys on tv referred to as the “greatest comeback in Colorado Rockies history.” (Troy Renck article here.) We totally could’ve been there, but we were TPWLGE. I mean, grumpy baby, good excuse — but still, that sucks. And then you had salt, wounds while the postgame guys spent a good six hours making fun of TPWLGE. We totally deserve it, but ouch.

It seems like leaving the game early set into action a swirling vortex of suckitude, wherein annoying things keep happening. Here is a brief summary:

• My work website was down all night (as far as I can tell) and I wasted time trying to access my work email so I could do actual work at like midnight, before I finally realized I could access my work email even though the website wasn’t working by using the direct link.
• A cat puked on the floor in our bedroom (the only carpeted surface in the house).
• Despite Ben’s constant and diligent efforts, the bedroom carpet smells slightly of pee again, Sadie.
• Sadie pooped in the kitchen while we slept. (This has become an everyday occurrence since the onslaught of constant and terrible fireworks in the ‘hood.)
• While standing on a chair and attempting to water the hanging plant I repotted last weekend, I spilled water all over the chair and the living room floor.
• I put some leftover Tuscan potato salad into a plastic container to take to work for breakfast. After closing the container, I noticed that it was covered in animal fur. How is that possible? I wiped off the fur on the outside of the container only to realize that there was also a bunch of fur on the inside of the container. I wiped off as much as possible but just couldn’t throw out the potato salad and start fresh, so I’ll probably be eating some fur for breakfast. Yum, and gross. I don’t know why I’m telling you that, but I’ll understand the next time I invite you over and you say no.
• Soren pooped right before we left this morning. You guys, the early weeks (months?) of solid food baby poop are really, really, really gross. I’m still as dedicated to cloth diapers as ever, but really, ew.
• Blueberries.
• A cat pooped right before I left so I had to scoop that because Coltrane, the buffet is closed, at least until someone else poops and I’m not there.
• I got stuck on a two-lane, one-way street where one lane was closed and the other was occupied by a street sweeper moving at approximately .0008 miles per hour.

On a positive note, I fell asleep within a reasonable amount of time and then stayed asleep until my alarm went off this morning. Almost six hours of uninterrupted slumber! Fabulous!