Hit by a Pitch

Archive for the ‘Baseball’ tag

I’ll miss Ubaldo.

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Sox vs. Rockies

I’m very sad about the Rockies trading Ubaldo Jimenez. My bad feelings are fourfold:

1. I love Ubaldo. As a Rockies fan, I feel like I’ve watched him grow up, as cheesy as that is. He grew up and then went, well, to Cleveland. And that’s no good for anybody. (Just kidding, people of Cleveland. I’m only lashing out at you because of my pain. Love ya!)

2. He went to one of two teams in the American League Central that is marginally interested in winning the division and is not the White Sox. This means Ubaldo, my pal, has become the enemy. This is confusing and, well, sad.

3. The Rockies organization has been atrocious at evaluating young talent and it’s impossible to say at this point whether the prospects they received in exchange for Ubaldo will pan out. We have to wait and see, and what the hell fun is that?

4. Imagine you’re in a relationship with someone who is smokin’ hot. We’ll call her Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue model Irina Shayk. One night after dinner, you’re sitting around drinking a beer and watching Teen Mom, and she says to you:

Hey, you know what? For the rest of the year, I’m going to stop working out. Instead, I’ll spend hours a day eating mounds of cheese dipped in the container of deep-fryer grease we store under the sink. I’m not going to shower for, like, a month at a time, and I’ll wipe the grease from my fingers in my hair instead of using napkins. Oral hygiene will be optional. My wardrobe will consist entirely of floral house dresses and filthy slippers. I’ll fart all the time and when I’m not farting, I’ll speak in painstaking detail about my menstrual cycle. Also, I’ll pick my nose and wipe the boogers on the living room wall. I’ll start chewing tobacco, which I will spit in the bowling trophy you won in high school.

By trading Ubaldo, that’s pretty much what the Rockies are doing for the rest of this season. They’re letting themselves go. As fans, we’re in a relationship with the Rockies so I guess we’re still supposed to care about them and stuff, but I cannot tell a lie. It’s hard for me to love you when you don’t love yourself. I understand what they see in mounds of cheese, but the rest of this season is going to be pretty stupid.

Written by Tracy

August 1st, 2011 at 7:47 pm

Friday Night Fun

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We're watching the White SoxSorry about the crappy Photo Booth picture, but look at how much fun we’re having watching tv on my computer. (Although let’s be honest, he was kind of more excited about looking at himself in Photo Booth.) What were we watching?

This is what we're watching.The White Sox game, of course. I used to say I wouldn’t try to influence Soren in matters of baseball so that one day, should he so choose, he could pick his own favorite team. I give myself credit for lasting almost 21 months (!) in that endeavor. It’s just too much fun to park a toddler in your lap and explain the game to him. I tell him about everything — players, who’s doing well and who’s sucking, and (of course) Hawkisms. I can’t wait until one day Soren looks me in the eye and says, “He gone!”

Long story short, if sharing your love of your favorite baseball team with your kid is wrong, I don’t want to be right.

Written by Tracy

July 22nd, 2011 at 7:43 pm

What to do During the All-Star Break

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Sox vs. RockiesFor the next three days (!) there’s no baseball. Well, there’s baseball-related stuff like the Home Run Derby (I usually love the Home Run Derby, but this year’s Home Run Derby is 50% Brewers and Red Sox. In related news, bite me.1) and the All-Star Game, which I’ll probably watch because by then I’ll be experiencing sudden and severe mental or neurological changes as a result of not having seen a baseball game in, like, days.

If you’re not into the All-Star festivities and are looking for something else to do during the break, I’ve got your back. Here are my suggestions.

  • Get outside and do something, dork.
  • Party like an All-Star. In the alternative, party like Adam Pacman Jones (neck brace optional).
  • Use this three-day period to develop a new skill to the best of your ability. Examples include baking cheesecakes or pies, quilting, or learning how to swear in a foreign language.2
  • Have your own Home Run Derby. I might bust out my Konerko (Paul Star!) jersey and go to town with the really old version of The Bigs we have (I’m not very good at hitting actual balls with actual bats).
  • Figure out what exactly the hell we’re supposed to be doing with Google+.
  • Figure out how to get rid of bindweed.
  • Try to throw a no-hitter while on LSD.
  • Throw a Twitter party. (Just kidding. Don’t do that.)
  • Try that no-tv-watching thing smug people are always talking about.
  • Write your own Dugouts.
  • Watch women’s soccer. It’s actually really awesome! USA plays France on Wednesday at 10 a.m. MDT. Also, two out of three people in our house agree that Alex Morgan is pretty hot (the third doesn’t care about these things yet).
  • Write a story about what would happen if you met your favorite current or former MLB player. What? That’s not weird.
  • Watch video (or line drawings, if you’re a Cubs fan) of the last time your team won the World Series. I’m going to be partying like it’s 2005 up in this hizzouse for the next three days.

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Notes
1. Apparently this year, the format of the Home Run Derby changed such that each league has a team captain and each team captain selects the four participants for his team. The AL captain is David Ortiz and the NL captain is Prince Fielder, so I guess they each selected a teammate. This is unbearably lame.
2. Every once in a while, I get a bee in my bonnet about learning how to swear in a foreign language. This results in looking shit, er, mierda, up on the internet. One time, I found a site that listed swears/insults in various languages and one of the Lithuanian insults (Beware: you may rightly be offended if you click that link) was “Let the hedgehog appear in your pants.” I’m still working out how to insert that into everyday conversation. Do people in Lithuania actually go around saying let the hedgehog appear in your pants? If so, they’re even more awesome than I thought.

Written by Tracy

July 11th, 2011 at 10:09 am

Posted in and life,MLB,Sports,The Bigs

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White Sox/Rockies Photos

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Written by Tracy

June 29th, 2011 at 11:08 pm

Vintage: Tadahito, you’re with Jose Mesa now.

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This post is from July 27, 2007.
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The White Sox traded Tadahito Iguchi to the Phillies today.

Here’s part of the phone conversation I had with Ben after getting the news –

Me: I’m very sad.

Ben: Why?

Me: They traded, like, my favorite player.

Ben: Who did?

Me: White Sox.

Ben: Who?

Me: Guess.

Ben: Thome?

Me: No.

Ben: Konerko?

Me: No.

Ben: You have too many favorite players.

Me: …

Ben: Jenks?

Me: No.

Ben: Pierzynski?

Me: You’re right, I have too many favorites.

Ben: …

Me: TADAGUCHI!

Ben: Well, I won’t have to hear you yell “TADAGUCHI” any more.

Me: [cries]
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This has something to do with

Marines mascot

The original post included a video that since has been removed from YouTube. It was from the 2006 game against the Houston Astros where Iguchi hit a 3-run homer in the 8th inning and a grand slam in the 9th. I miss that guy!

Where is he now? Playing second base for the Chiba Lotte Marines in Japan (that website is in Japanese and I have no idea what’s going on over there).

Written by Tracy

May 23rd, 2011 at 8:29 pm

Dock Ellis & the LSD No-No

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This is one of the most awesome things I’ve ever seen.

Written by Tracy

May 15th, 2011 at 9:25 am

My team sucks ass.

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Normally, I don’t wear White Sox apparel around my neighborhood because I worry it’s not safe. It’s unlikely my dorky ass will be mistaken for a member of the gang that uses the Sox logo, but I figure safe > sorry. Now, in addition to not wanting to accidentally represent as a gangster, I don’t want to wear White Sox gear because it’s fucking embarrassing.

What’s the proper course of action when your team sucks ass?

Hey, I joined a gang.

You'd be unhappy too if you were wearing this shirt.

In the early days of this season’s suckitude, I’d tune into each game with an inexplicably renewed sense of hope. I’d feel pretty good about things and the White Sox would end up ahead until their bullpen completely tanked and lost the game. After that, I’d tune into games with a guarded prognosis, feeling like there was some chance of things maybe, possibly turning out okay until the Sox scored zero runs and the other team scored one or more and I realized this was futile because we needed at least a 97-run lead before turning things over to the bullpen. We (I apologize for being one of those assholes who sometimes refers to my team as “we.” I know this drives people nuts and I understand that but I kind of have to do it anyway, at least once in a while. Cut me some slack. We’re 11-21. The fact that I’m willing to associate myself with 11-21 by referring to “we” should count for something.) never had a 97-run lead.

Eventually I tuned in sporadically, which included watching and listening to (I tend to listen to the radio broadcast at the gym, because the video always craps out on me) us win the first two games of a four-game series with the Yankees. Do you know what I love more than beating (I know, as if I have anything to do with that) the Yankees? My kid. Beer. Not much else. Then we lost two to the Yankees and even though we split the series, losing the last two goes a long way toward killing off the buzz we got from winning the first two.

After that, my memory is hazy, but I think we never won another game. (No wait, we won one, against the Orioles.) We were no-hit by a guy with a 9+ ERA who had never even pitched a complete game in his life even in little league when he played against kids half his age. The next day, we were no-hit by Jose Mesa. Okay, that part is a joke, but still. I had to read tweets about how Francisco Liriano isn’t really a keeper in fantasy leagues because, well, he’s not that good and it was the White Sox.

Any time anyone and it wases your team, you know you’re fucked.

So what do you do? You still wear your hat and shirt, maybe, but only to the gym. It’s not like we’re going to break up over this shit. I mean, if we were married, this level of sheer crappy behavior and your complete and utter disregard of my feelings and desires might warrant divorce or at the very least tedious counseling or a formal separation agreement, but we’re not married. You’re just my team. You’ve technically never made any promises to me. I mean, I could stop being your fan right now and you’d never even notice. Fuck, that’s depressing. You’d notice, wouldn’t you?

Then you have shit like this tweet from Brent Lillibridge. Look. I’m not going to hate on Brent Lillibridge. He kind of has more cojones than the rest of the guys put together this year. He made two batshit crazy catches that helped the Sox beat the Yankees. Twitter blew up with Yankees fans talking about how Lillibridge just fucked the tri-state area. It was glorious. Although he’s a dorky, teapot-looking kid, you kind of love Brent Lillibridge.

Then he tweeted this:

That was a test to all #whitesox fans. Most of you passed. Great positivity, love it, we feel the same way. Back at it 15 hours 9:26 PM May 3rd

Wait, what? That shit just pisses me right off. You completely sucking ass is not a test to me or anyone else unfortunate enough to like your sorry-ass team. And if it were a test, I’d gladly fail. What would my punishment be? Liking a shitty team? Oh wait.

Listen. There is no positivity. If you feel the same way your fans do, you’re spending the night gripped in the clutches of insomnia to the point where no matter how many times you move you can’t get comfortable and the sheets and pillow are all hot and stale feeling, staring at your ceiling, wondering what Nietzsche would say about the existential dilemma as reflected in your displaced love of someone incapable of bringing a shred of joy into your life. What would Nietzsche say about the 2011 White Sox? I think he would say this:

The White Sox are dead.

You suck. You don’t get to piss me off right now. So shut up. If you’re feeling positive about anything more sophisticated than your ability to use a toilet more often than not, you need to put down the crack pipe and get with the real world, bucko. The fact that I just used the word “bucko” indicates the dire seriousness of this thankless situation.

There were good and bad aspects of wearing a White Sox shirt to the gym tonight. On the positive side, I think its human-repelling properties protected me from the salesy people roaming the floor talking to people. (It was either that or the fact that I, as always, cut my bangs too short, which makes me look like someone who does roller derby and wants to kill you.) On the negative side, while I was doing lat pulldowns, I looked at the tv, which was on ESPN, and saw something like “Should the White Sox make a change at manager?” while showing Ozzie Guillen. I shit you not, I almost wanted to cry.

Written by Tracy

May 5th, 2011 at 9:51 pm