Friday, September 30, 2011

Fear the (Well-manicured goatee) Beard


When it comes to Brian Sabean my guru tells me I shouldn't hate anyone, it gives them too much power, too much time in my head. But my guru is a pussy. I tried the Zen approach, and it failed miserably. I used to imagine Sabean as a good natured, beer league softball manager. A work-a-day guy who puts in long hours at the job to take care of business and his family. But on game nights He likes to let his proverbial hair down in the parking lot of his local rec league softball field, getting schlitzed on Coors Light and the occasional puff of reefer from his friend Bill, a freelance graphic designer.

There's an interesting mix of players on Brian's team because he's a welcoming man, as long as you have "solid league experience" and no discernible athletic gifts, you're on the team! After-all, the game's not that hard...

Abandoning my beer-league softball narrative of Sabean I have increased my understanding of the man greatly and now can only assume one of two scenarios: A) He is an aging buffoon, trying to rid himself of a festering awareness of his own mortality by signing (himself metaphorically) in the form of a steady stream of aging middle infielders who will show they world they still got it! Or B) He suffered PTSD from Bonds' retirement in 2007, inciting anterograde amnesia which has compelled him to think it is perpetually 2007...Edgar Renteria is an All-Star short-stop for the St. Louis Cardinals, Carlos Beltran (also an All-Star) just hit 33 home runs, drove in 111 and stole 23 bases, Pat Burrell hit 30 home runs, Barry Zito won 16 games, Miguel Tejada hit .296, Aaron Rowand blasted 27 home
runs...and Sabean lost his mind.

If the Giants want to win another World Series (while Tim Lincecum is alive) they have can either fire Sabean, or, save up for a time machine...

-Locomotive

Monday, November 17, 2008

Of Greetings and Goodbyes, And SunChip crumbs

Apologies to our faithful audience (in my case, Murph, and in his case, me) for the eerily similar performance to Plaxico Burress that's been put into the site lately (not to be confused with the '07 version).

Really, like Emilio, we've surely had some great ideas to return to the limelight. Typing 150 words or so and slotting in a hip/ironic picture is often times more difficult than the quadruple deke or rounding up Fulton and the old crew.

For now, just trust that our intentions to write more are pure, and that our next real post has a solid chance to come out before D4: Running Afowl. So until then, maybe write into your neighborhood movie exec to get this baby fast-tracked, or green lit, or what have you:

Coach Bombay (i.e. me) is skating on a frozen pond in slow motion, sort of reflecting on his life like he always does, and then the ice cracks and he falls in. For a second it looks like he's going to drown, but then you see someone extend this hockey stick into the ice-cold water, and the camera zooms up, and it's Charlie (i.e. Charlie Conway, my protégé). He saves me. He's old now and has a beard. And he says in this really gravelly voice "Ducks fly together" and I nod at him and then the team gets back together to play in the Olympics. Then "Whoomp! (There It Is)" starts playing.

How about a slow quack, for old times sake?

When Life Gets You Down... [The Onion]

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Stalking Chase: An Admirer on Tracks

Dear Chase Utley,

Thanks for ripping twenty eight homers with your short, jerky swing. Your VORP is like that of John Lennon, there is only one.

It’s time for you to find a Hollywood publicist and a public vice. Spend your nights outside Philly’s finest strip joints with Stephen Jackson, firing automatic weapons into the air, slurping Grey Goose on the rocks and snorting cocaine off Destiny’s backside. Let your hair down Chase, we wanna see your dark side.

The way you flick those wrists makes me wonder if you’re into S&M.

-Locomotive

Saturday, July 26, 2008

Quinn Contemplates 'Catching' Professionally

BEREA, Ohio -- As the Cleveland Browns begin training camp at their practice facility in Berea, the previous ruminations of a potential quarterback controversy may be ending soon. Former Notre Dame star quarterback/gay dating ad poster child, Brady Quinn, said he may follow his former touchdown target into a different profession.

"Jeff [Samardzija] is playing baseball and having a blast," Quinn told reporters Friday. "I've been doing some research and found out that the game has a position for me. It's not only socially acceptable for a guy to be a catcher but well respected."

Browns management declined to comment on Quinn's possible career switch.

"If I could join with the Chicago Cups [sic] I'd be able to catch while [Samardzija] pitches," Quinn said. "Just like back at the dorms in South Bend."

Friday, July 11, 2008

LBMS Book Club

The struggling American economy is slowly eliminating the high school sports landscape, leaving one Pulitzer winner in search of a new game, and a new breed, to exploit. That man is, of course, Pulitzer Prize winning reporter H.G. Bissinger.
Secular religions are fascinating in the devotion and zealousness they breed, and in Oregon, under-eight soccer has its own "rabid" hold over the faithful. H.G. Bissinger, a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist, enters into the spirit of one of its "most fervent shrines": Cedar Mill, an upper-middle class suburb in the comfortable confines of Northwest Oregon, where the Brockman D.D.S. Tooth Fairies have managed to compile the most smiles and least on-field urine stains in state annals. Indeed, as this breathtaking examination of the town, the team, its coaches, and its young players chronicles, the team, for better and for worse, is portrayed as the town; the communal health and self-image of the latter is minsinterpreted as being linked to the on-field success of the former. The 2007 season, the one Saturday Afternoon Orange Slices recounts, was not one of the Tooth Fairies' best. Bissinger's effect on the community--and the players--was explosive. Written with exaggerated style and unnecessary, borderline libelous, passion, SAOS offers an American snapshot in deeply blurred focus; the picture is not always pretty, but the image is hard to forget.

Monday, June 30, 2008

Country Singer Whispers Sweet Nothings in Dallas Goaltender's Earhole

File this one in the 'timely posts' section of your Carl Monday Memorial library, for we've recently come to discover that Dallas Stars backup goalie Mike Smith gave dome to a dude has a dude on his dome - and apparently it's supposed to be former Padres auditionee Garth Brooks. *Insert Brooks' song title pun and/or Brokeback joke here*

This is a special precedent Smith has set here. We can only hope it leads to Dominik Hasek stenciling a shirtless Eminem onto his old, sexually neutral red helmet when he once again pounces out of his retirement rocker.