Your Random Mid 80's to Late 90's Baseball Player of the Day: Mickey Tettleton!

Mickey Tettleton was probably best known for his batting stance - some kind of weird upright-standing stance that only broke when he went to swing.


Now, don't get me wrong, I think this makes him pretty cool. That, and the eye-black. Really has a dead-ball era style to it.


However, this is no story of praise. No, this is the story of Tettleton's life - underachievement for the sake of novelty.

Mickey Tettleton had a great eye. Between 1990 and 1995, he walked 642 times. In the strike-shortened 1994 season, Tet pulled a .419 OBP out of a .248 batting average, because of his patience.

Tettleton could also hit for power. He homered 30 times in a season 4 times in his career. If you look at the percentage of his hits that went for extra bases, as a portion of his total hits, the proportion is rather staggering. Tettleton could have been a great player if...

Well, if he had learned a normal fucking batting stance. Now, I can't say I've done a lot of analysis on Tet's swing, but if you have that good an eye, and you can hit the ball that well, my only explanation for why you hit .241 on your career, while striking out every 4th time you go to the plate, is that you're getting too much head movement, and too much body movement. If you've played baseball, you know the first thing that goes on guys who are slumping is the ability to keep their head in one place through their whole swing. Plus, if he cocked as much as I think he did from that weird-ass stance of his, he probably also had issues getting around on hard throwers.

That aside, Tet had two interesting practices/superstitions/whatever. The first involved the greatest fucking cereal on earth, Froot Loops. Now, everyone knows that Froot Loops have been the source of many great people's powers: Robin Hood, John F. Kennedy (Jr.), Suge Knight, Senator Arlen Spector, and most famously, Veruca Salt front-lady Nina Gordon. However, none of the aforementioned superheroes (either in the literal or figurative terms) actually admitted it. Tettleton, on the other hand, wore the source of his power on his sleeve. Or in his hat, as shown in the picture to the right.

Tettleton was so empowered by the little fruit (froot)-flavored, sugar-covered corn/oat/wheat hoops that www.baseballprospectus.com actually underwent the task of adjusting his stats to a world where Froot Loops did not exist. While the .047 batting average they projected may be a bit pessimistic, it nonetheless shows that Froot Loops really did give him a boost. If only JFK, Jr. had eaten his Froot Loops on the fateful night of July 19, 1999 he would have remembered that the top of the airplane faces up. (Lack of Froot Loops as an option for room service in his penthouse suite at the Plaza Hotel was offered as a possible explanation for how anyone could fail the bar 3 times).

However, the whole Froot Loops thing isn't even the most unusual part of the Tet legacy. Mickey Tettleton, according to Wikipedia (which is, as we know, edited by the most serious people on earth, so you know this has to be true), used to carry monkey AND/OR rabbit "balls" in his back pocket for good luck.

Well, I have no idea what the fuck he could be talking about except animal testicles. Although it makes you wonder - I would think that a monkey would have bigger nuts than a rabbit. Maybe I'm wrong, but if you put them side by side, I would just say that monkey balls > rabbit balls. Now, I will admit - there is such thing in certain eastern cuisine as a "monkey ball" which is basically a meatball made with bunches of different kinds of meats. However, I am unable to find any similar type of "rabbit ball" which would explain that instead of animal testicles, Tet only had ground up spheres of cooked (or uncooked?) mystery meat in his back pocket.

I'm really not sure which is weirder.

So, the story we can all learn from Tet is this: with a decent batting stance + Froot Loops + monkey balls = the next Yogi Berra. Without either Froot Loops or Ape Nuts = Chris Bando.

Without further ado:
The Good: Loved the Loops; could hit for solid power from both sides; the good kind of crazy we expect in our catchers (without being the creepy Darren Daulton kind of crazy); played with the most awesomely mediocre set of third basemen ever: Carney Lansford, Craig Worthington, Travis Fryman and Dean Palmer. Awesome.

The Bad: Seriously, shorten your swing and you're golden...guess it's about 15 years too late, huh? Even without the Loops, Godron could have written "Volcano Girls".

The bungee cords are a metaphor, see?

I hope that was enjoyable because it definitely took me 2 weeks to put this post together.

Your Random Mid 80's to Late 90's Baseball Player of the Day: Jose Lind!

Your Random Mid 80's to Early 90's Baseball Player of the Day is Jose Lind.

Jose Lind played Second Base for the Pittsburgh Pirates, Kansas City Royals and California Angels over a career that spanned nine glorious seasons. Always known as a free spirit, Jose Lind was known as "Chico" to his family, friends, law enforcement personnel and his fans, whether he was wearing pants or not.

The highlight of Chico Lind's career was no doubt 1987-1992, his time with the Pittsburgh Pirates. An enduring figure to the Pittsburgh faithful, Chico Lind played Second Base better than anyone in a Pirates uniform since Maz. Accordingly, Chico Lind was the first Pirate since Maz to win a Gold Glove at Second Base.

During this time, Chico Lind was known as clubhouse prankster. Chico's prank of choice? It wasn't the good old pie to the face or the ben-gay in the jock strap. It wasn't even urinating on teammates in the shower like some people. Chico Lind's go to prank was brandishing knives in the clubhouse at other players, albeit in a playful way wearing a yellow "Huggable" t-shirt like Landon on the Real World Philadelphia.

In his younger days, Chico Lind was such a playful dude that he threw his batting gloves to our buddy Vince. Tragically, the treasured relic of Chico Lind was stolen from Vince by his buddy Adam. In honor of Vince, here's a big FUCK YOU ADAM.

Chico Lind's much beloved stay in Pittsburgh more or less ended in Bill Buckner like fashion during the 1992 NLCS with the Atlanta Braves. While most people remember Sid Bream hobbling in from second on a hit by a third string catcher beating out a Johnny Damon like throw from Barry Bonds, few remember that all of that would be for naught had Chico Lind just put his glove on the dirt and fielded a routine ground ball a few plays earlier. That would be the last winning season the Pirates would ever have.

Following that debacle, Chico Lind ended up on the Kansas City Royals. Chico Lind never embraced Kansas City like he did Pittsburgh ans struggled to find acceptance. Chico Lind found acceptance in the form of cocaine. And after all, can you blame him? He was playing on a team with Felix Jose, Mike McFarlane, Kevin McReynolds and Greg Gagne. Exactly.

After leaving Pittsburgh, Chico Lind found himself in continuous legal troubles with drugs and lack of pants. While still with Kansas City, Chico Lind went awol from the Royals was arrested for domestic violence, which is not funny by any stretch of the imagination. Shame on you Chico Lind. What is funny, hilariously so however, is that in 1997 Chico Lind was arrested in Tampa for fleeing the scene of an accident. Not real funny. Police found 7 cans of beer and a gram of cocaine. A little bit funnier. When police stopped Chico Lind, he was wearing no pants. Pretty fucking funny. He was wearing no underpants either. Fucking hilarious. As a result, Chico Lind had to serve a year in prison. Sad.

More recently, Chico Lind has desperately sought redemption. In 2006 he had a short stint as a minor league manager. Like many people, Chico Lind is trying to find his way on the winding road we call life.

So here's to you Jose "Chico" Lind, Your Random Mid 80's to Early 90's Baseball Player of the day, if you ever need a pair of pants, we'd be happy to give you ours.

Your Random Mid 80's to Early 90's Baseball Player of the Day is: Tom Pagnozzi!

Your Random Mid 80's to Early 90's Baseball Player of the Day is Tom Pagnozzi.

Pagnozzi, was a catching man's catcher. Pagnozzi made it possible for the Brad Ausmus's to have a lengthy career in the Major League Baseball. Although his wikipedia page may claim that Pagnozzi had moderate power and was a RBI threat, they are giving Pagnozzi way to much credit. Pagnozzi hit more than seven home runs in a season one time and never drove in more than 57 runs in a single season. Pagnozzi wasn't in there to hit the ball. Pagnozzi was in there to play defense, throw motherfuckers out at second base and to call the perfect game for the Donovan Osborne and Rheal Cormier. Pagnozzi did manage to make the 1992 All-Star team and won three gold gloves in the early 1990's.

Perhaps Pagnozzi's best claim to greatness was forcing Cardinals' hot shot catching prospect Todd Zeile to third base. Take that Todd Zeile!

After his retirement, Pagnozzi moved back home to the place of his birth in Arizona to live a "normal life of doing nothing". Now I don't know about Pagnozzi, but to the average person, a normal life consists of something we fucking like to call "work". "Work", Mr. Pagnozzi is what "normal" people do to earn money so they are be able to do "normal" things like put food on the table for their families, clothe their children, and if they're single and in their twenties, to buy booze and video games with. Now for Pagnozzi, "doing nothing" in Arizona was "hot as hell" and "too hot" for him so he moved his family to his college hometown in Fayetteville, Arkansas. "Doing nothing" was also not something Pagnozzi could handle so he joined his alma matter Razorbacks as a volunteer assistant for the baseball team.

This was apparantly too much for Pagnozzi to handle because he "wasn't getting as much out of it as the time he was putting in". Rumor has it Pagnozzi started his own business with his brother in law building houses in Fayetteville. Now, Pagnozzi can set his own hours and "get out of it" as much time "as he puts in".

That being said (and Pagnozzi is obviously taking the heat for my still being at work at 6:13 pm on a Friday), Pagnozzi does a shit load of good charity work. Here check it out. So he's not all that bad of a guy.

So here's to you Tom Pagnozzi, you may not understand the "normal people", but we sure understand you.

The Wrath of Kahn!!!! (And Other NBA Draft News)

Breaking news. Minnesota Timberwolves and Rick Brunson agree to 3 year, $12 million dollar contract.

Perhaps saying the Minnesota Timberwolves had an "interesting" draft night would be the polite thing to say. You know, maybe the T'Wolves had a larger plan. Maybe Personaru In Charge David Kahn got some advice from Matt Millen on drafting. You know what? Fuck it. What the fuck were the T'Wolves doing?


5th Overall: Ricky Rubio, PG 6'5

6th Overall: Jonny Flynn, PG 6'0

18th Overall: Ty Lawson, PG 6'0

28th Overall: Wayne Ellington, SG 6'5

45th Overall: Nick Calethes, PG 6'5

47th Overall: Henk Norel, PF, 6'9 215

Go ahead. Look at the list. Let it marinade. Look at it some more.

Sunk in yet?

Give it one more look.

Got it? Granted, this list would be a hell of a lot funnier if the Wolves haven't spun Ty Lawson and Nick Calethes to the Nuggets and Mavericks respectively for future picks and cash, but still, using the 5th and 6th overall picks in the draft on two point guards? Absolutely ridiculous. Lacking any inside presence, the Wolves then drafted Wayne Ellington who can only shoot and is closer to 6'3 than he is to 6'5 to play the two guard position.

Regardless, the Wolves were picking 6th as a reward for their awful season. However, in one of the shittiest drafts in NBA History, the Wolves decided to obtain ANOTHER high pick in the draft, this time in the 5th position. This was a draft where there were arguably only two players with bona fide all-star potential (Blake Griffin and Ricky Rubio), and maybe another one or two with solid starter potential (Stephanie Curry and *gulp* Hasheem Thabeet). The maestro behind the Wolves symphony? David Kahn.
A couple more thoughts on the draft...

Who is David Kahn you ask?

Well, according to wikipedia he is an author and the leading expert on CIA cryptography. So that's probably not the right David Kahn. Our David Kahn has no wikipedia page. (editors note - he now does) Any type of biography on David Kahn is also non-existent on the Minnesota Timberwolves official website. Some would look at this lack of access as emabrassing. I prefer to think of it as a clean canvas. The Timberwolves are in need of a new landscape to paint. The McHale regime was "Paint by Numbers" and perhaps the Kahn regime could be more in "Bob Ross" territory.

Breaking news. Minnesota Timberwolves and Eric Snow agree to 2 year $8 million dollar contract.

Because I'm lazy, I let Intern Mike scour the internet for information on David Kahn, which proved be difficult because the entire internet almost ceased to exist over the last 24 hours. Intern Mike informed us that among other things, David Kahn is: a Jew (really? you needed the internet for that Intern Mike?), apparantly an attorney (again, really? you needed the internet for that Intern Mike?), had some sort of front office position with the Basketball Jesus in Indiana, and at some point owned four NBDL Teams (i think that is the organization that does drag racing). So Kahn does some have some sort of experience going for him, which is nice.

So with their first pick, the Wolves drafted a floppy haired spanish version of Nick Jonas who will now have to live in Minnesota. He goes from partying on Ibiza to shopping at the Mall of Americas. He goes from paella to lutefisk. Of course this is going to go well. Personally, I believe that Rubio is going to be an absolute stud. My buddy Isaacs, who is a diehard Minneapolisiean (sp?) disagrees and called me last night in bitter disappointment. So this post is in honor of you Isaacs.

Rubio should not have been available at the 5th pick, but he was and the Wolves were smart and snatched him up. Things were starting to change. In an already shitty draft, the Wolves, needing everything now BUT another point guard, had Stephanie Curry (a combo guard, but a lights out shooter and probably a small two-guard in the NBA), DeMarr DeRozen (a slahing wing player and best friend of Lil' Romeo), and Jordan Hill (an athletic power forward who can run the floor and rebound) available. So who does Kahn roll the dice with?

Jonny Flynn. Another point guard. A barely six foot tall point guard (who probably is closer to 5'10). In a draft overloaded with guards and combo guards, the Wolves selected the other guard who can most certainly not play two guard.

Kahn felt the need to address his fans directly after the draft. The letter in it's entierty is listed here.

Some of the excerpts:

"It’s been five weeks since I arrived in Minneapolis and I hope you can feel
what I feel: change."

Breaking news. Minnesota Timberwolves and Sherman Douglas agree to 1 year, $4 million dollar contract.

On Rubio: "He will be our starting point guard here the moment he walks through
our front door. We may have to wait a year, or even two, but he is worth
the wait. We must be patient. This is a big step for he and his
family."

On Flynn: "I truly believe that Jonny is as much a scorer as a playmaker and
will thrive playing off of Ricky. I also believe that, together, we will
have one of the most dynamic defensive backcourts in the NBA over time.
You will love Jonny Flynn. He, too, will be special"

So he apparantly plans to play them together in the backcourt. Brilliant. He believes they will be the best defensive backcourt in the league. Well, as long as they don't play a team with anyone over 6'3 in their backcourt. Kahn likes to consider himself an "out of the box thinker". We here at Operation Shutdown are thinkers as well. We think Kahn is a fucking idiot.

So I'm sorry Isaacs and I'm sorry to Minnesota. Good times are around the corner. You have Brett Farve coming to town. You have Joe Mauer and the magical masking agent he has been using to mask his PED use. You have Mikko Koivu. Keep the faith Minnesota. Your time will come.


Other Notes on NBA Draft...

Dejuan Blair and Sam Young. Well, I think the two of them got screwed. Sam Young more so than Dejaun Blair. Sam Young has to play for the Memphis Grizzlies. Memphis is where basketball players go to die and eat awesome barbeque. One of those is awesome, one of those is not. You figure it out. Dejuan Blair got some bad advice. How can his legal representation/agent not inform him that the fact that he has no fucking ACL's left in his knees might play a role in how team's viewed him. He's also barely 6'6. While he was an offensive rebounding machine, has fantastic footwork and is a capable inside player, the measurables ended up screwing him. He should have stayed at Pitt for another year, dominate again, perhaps win the Wooden award and he probably would have gone first round in 2010. That being said, Blair is going to San Antonio, who somehow added Richard Jefferson and Dejuan Blair this weekend while only giving up Bruce Bowen and some random center named Oberto. You heard it here first, San Antonio wins the NBA Title next year.

Omri Cassipi becomes the first Israeli player drafted in the first round. Jews haven't been this excited since KFC gave out free grilled chicken a month ago.

No Blair or Young in the first round, but players are taken from Tanzania, Guadelupe, Congo, Srik Lanka and Tattooine.

Breaking news. Minnesota Timberwolves and Steve Wojciechowski agree to 3 year, $3 million dollar contract.

And finally... Mr. Riley and I have a buddy who we'll refer to as "Vince". Vince is a terrific basketball player and is arguably the biggest NBA fan I know. Vince, who is a born and bred Pittsburgher, currently lives in San Francisco with his lovely wife "Jenny" who has tiny hands but can bake up a storm. While all of Pittsburgh was transfixed on the Penguins-Red Wings Stanley Cup Final, during Game X, Vince was texting me about the NBA Finals, so Vince is a pretty big NBA fan. Anyway, Vince and I extended some text messages during the draft which I would like to share with you all.

HASHEEM THABEET
Vince: I love how , when discussing thabeet's weaknesses, they show a series of blair clips.
Mr. Ruben: Thabeet... Strengths: defensive ability, shot blocking, size. Weaknesses: Offense. (side note, unknown to me at the time, ESPN flashed a similar graphic)
Mr. Ruben: Thabeet... 4.9 ppg, 7.5 rebounds, 2.5 blocks... congrats, you just selected D.J. Mbenga with the 2nd overall pick!
Mr. Ruben: any time you can draft a player who's weakness is offense at 2nd overall, it's a move you absolutely have to make

Vince: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T1rZBxn3Zx8

JAMES HARDEN
Mr. Ruben: Harden... Strengths: does a little bit of eveyrthing, Weakness: doesn't do any of those things particularly wellVincent: oh shit!

TYREKE EVANS
Vince: tyreke evans is the only 6'5 black dude in the draft who can't dunk
Vince: I think he's the first non-elite athlete from memphis in five years... nice pic, sacramento ... hint to sacramento: if he's from MEMPHIS, and MEMPHIS doesn't want him

RICKY RUBIO AND BRANDON JENNINGS
Vince: Ricky Rubio: "well, sacramento seemed nice"Mr. Ruben: they film THE MENTALIST THERE!!!!! EVERYBODY GET EXCITED!!!!
After the Wolves took Rubio, Vince was hoping for them to take Brandon Jennings, I don't know if Vince was joking...
Vince: t-wolves will get rubio AND jennings.and no one will EVER know where the ball is. Vince: 48 minutes of "WTF" ball
Vince: "It appears as though two men, one from menudo and one from kold krush krew, are both dribbling"

An Explanation on Where Mr. Riley has Been..

Some of you may be wondering where the brilliant ruminations of Mr. Riley have been lately. There have been rumors circulating around the Operation Shutdown Corporate HQ that Mr. Riley has been suspended indefinitely for his "serious journalistic post" regarding the Donte Stallworth/Mike Vick situations. This is not the case, we here at Operation Shutdown encourage both serious and non-serious, slightly humorous journalism all the same. We consider ourselves a "hybrid" of such and encourage all types of posts, both funny and tragic. The rest of us here at HQ have been wondering where Mr. Riley has gone as well. He sort of just disappeared sometime over the weekend without a word. It was troubling all of us.

Luckily, Operation Shutdown's unpaid intern, "Intern Mike", was doing some crack investigative journalism and followed up a "hot lead" on the whereabouts of Mr. Riley. Intern Mike miraculously tracked down Mr. Riley at the Pittsburgh International Airport and approached him as he was walking past the Franco Harris statue. Intern Mike proceeded to press Mr. Riley for comment on his puzzling absence and Mr Riley responded with the single statement, "I was hiking on the Appalachian Trail", and stormed off, obviously annoyed with Intern Mike.

Intern Mike was resilient though. After I informed him that the Appalachian Trail was not a 1987 Computer Game and was in fact a real place (Intern Mike is unfortunately taking classes at Community College and has been for quite some time), Intern Mike could not find a single person anywhere on the Appalachian Trail that could vouch for Mr. Riley's whereabouts on said trail. The thought of Mr. Riley hiking, especially to anyone who knows him, is quite preposterous. However, using all the wealth of vocational skills he has obtained in his numerous semesters at Community College, Intern Mike somehow followed the "paper trail" (Intern Mike watches the CSI Franchises too much) and realized that Mr. Riley was in fact in Buenos Aires, Argentina.

That's where the story unravels. Mr. Riley has been apparently carrying on a torrid love affair with an Argentinian woman known only as "Maria". While all of us here at Operation Shutdown have the utmost respect for the private affairs of citizens of this great nation, we find it our journalistic and civic duty to inform the public of Mr. Riley's misdeeds. While most information is scant at the moment, Intern Mike has obtained some electronic mail ("e-mails") from Mr. Riley to "Maria". Operation Shutdown will now reveal the contents of said "e-mails".

"You have a particular grace and calm that I adore. You have a level of sophistication that so fitting with your beauty."

"I could digress and say that you have the ability to give magnificent gentle kisses, or that I love your tan lines or that I love the curve of your hips, the erotic beauty of you holding yourself (or two magnificent parts of yourself) in the faded glow of the night's light -- but hey, that would be going into sexual details ..."

"...while all the things above are all too true -- at the same time we are in a ... hopelessly impossible situation of love...."

"How in the world this lightening strike snuck up on us I am still not quite sure. As I have said to you before I certainly had a special feeling about you from the first time we met, but these feelings were contained and I genuinely enjoyed our special friendship and the comparing of all too many personal notes ..."

"You are my love ... something hard to believe even for myself as it's also a kind of impossible love, not only because of distance but situation... Sometimes you don't choose things, they just happen ... I can't redirect my feelings and I am very happy with mine towards you."

Pretty risque stuff.

While all of us at Operation Shutdown never viewed Mr. Riley as "the romantic type", we are nevertheless impressed with his Danielle Steele like way with romanticism. His beautiful words are often wasted on this simple blog of ours and are better suited for the pages of a romance novel with a shirtless Fabio on the cover. Should Mr. Riley decide to take that direction, then we will support him 100%.

However, should Mr. Riley decide to stay with our humble blog, then we wish him the best of luck in this difficult time. Take all the time off you need Mr. Riley, we're all behind you.

* Additional Reporting done by Intern Mike.

Your Random Mid 80's to Early 90's Baseball Player of the Day: Stan Javier!

Your Random Mid 80's to Early 90's Baseball Player of the Day is Stan Javier.

Stanley Julian Antonio Javier debuted with the New York Yankees in 1984 and retired from the Seattle Mariners in 2001. If you needed a mediocre fourth outfielder from 1985-1998, than Javier was your man.

In fact, to get a vivid description of Javier, lets direct quote from Javier's wikipedia page, which was without a doubt was written by his mother, Mrs./Ms. Javier:

"Javier was a talented baseball player and a classic fourth outfielder: someonewho can give a club good defense, blazing speed, and a a switch-hitting bat withdecent average, but who cannot sustain his play over a full season."

"Stan was a winner and a sought after player every year around the trading deadline because of the many different ways to win he brought to the table."

"His career highlights included finishing tenth in the AL in stolen bases in 1994, with 24, and seventh in the AL in steals in 1995 with 36."

Following Javier's retirement from baseball, he focused on his next goal, which was representing the underrepresented Dominican Republic in the Outdoor Games. In his native Dominican Republic, Javier started his own tree cutting company, Javier Farms, which began with planting 7 million trees on about 20,000 acres in his homeland. In his new career, Javier tried to create jobs for Dominicans, saying, "It's not very often you see a guy that's trying to create forests." Who knew that Javier was so ahead of the curve with trying to eliminate his carbon footprint?

However, even nature couldn't keep Javier away from the game he loved. In the mid 2000's, Javier was hired as the General Manager and Architect of the 2006 and 2009 Domincan Republic World Baseball Classic team. So feel free to blame Stan Javier for the disastrous upset loss to the Netherlands and Sidney Ponson in the 2009 WBC.

Also, of amazing irrelevance, Javier is also a pretty big fan of horses. Javier's daughters are accomplished equestrian riders.

Your Random Mid 80's to Early 90's Baseball Player of the Day: Danny Darwin!

Your Random Mid 80's to Early 90's Baseball Player of the Day is Danny Darwin.

If you find Danny Darwin utterly forgettable, and we wouldn't blame you, perhaps you're more familiar with his usual monikers of "The Bonham Bullet" or "Dr. Death". "The Bonham Bullet" moniker was derived from the name of the Texas town Danny Darwin grew up in, Bonham, combined with the way he threw the baseball, like a bullet. Astros radio man Milo Hamilton donned the "Dr. Death" moniker on Danny Darwin because he would prove to be "the death" of opposing team's rallies in the 7th and 8th innings setting up Dave Smith.

Dr. Death broke into Major League Baseball in 1978 with the Texas Rangers and retired from the Major League Baseball in 1998 with the San Francisco Giants. Over 21 seasons, Dr. Death compiled a 171-182 record with a 3.84 ERA. The very definition of mediocre, in those 21 seasons, Dr. Death never garnered a single Cy Young vote (despite leading the National League in ERA in 1990) nor did Dr. Death ever make an All-Star team. Yet somehow, he found away to never give up.

During his days hurling for the Texas Baseball Rangers, Dr. Death developed a but of a personal rivalry with another Texan Flamethrower, Nolan Ryan. One must assume that despite their similar Texan roots, build and demeanor, that said rivalry was based entirely on the fact that Dr. Death was insanely jealous of the fact that he would never be quite as talented as Nolan Ryan. Coaches and teammates were consistently worried that the rivalry would turn angry and violent and many of them thought Dr. Death could take down Nolan Ryan because Dr. Death was "not someone you would want to get into an old Texas style saloon fight with." Robin Ventura, Dr. Death was not.

The lighter side of Dr. Death revolved around his annual Golf Tournament Classic, "The Danny Darwin Celebrity Golf Open Tournament Classic". You should hurry up, because tickets are available on first come, first serve basis, and demand for the 2005 tournament is the best Dr. Death has seen yet. All you need is a Delorean with a flux capacitor and you're good to go.

So here's to you Dr. Death, our Random Mid 80's to Early 90's Baseball Player of the Day, you may have missed your appointment with destiny, but we'll kill time in your waiting room any day.

Thoughts on the Donte Stallworth and Mike Vick Stories.

As I'm sure everyone is now aware, Donte Stallworth, wide receiver for the Cleveland Browns, pled out to a DUI-manslaughter charge in Miami, FL, getting 30 days in jail + 2 years house arrest + eight years probation + 1000 hours of community service + some deal with the deceased's family.

And everyone's pissed.

Why? Well, the general sentement seems to be that he was DUI (which is inexcusable) and he killed someone (which, though unintentional, is also inexcusable). As a result of this, I think people believed that he should have gotten much, much more time in the slammer.

Specifically, I would point to this piece from a blog called the "Bleacher Report". There, the writer notes numerous other people who got much more severe sentences for convictions under the DUI Manslaughter statute. It decries the fact that "average Joe's" like a 17 year old who (1) was illegally operating a motor vehicle with any BAC (which, unfortunately for a 17 y/o is a worse crime than the same thing for an older person), and (2) killed 2 people, was screwed over, while Stallworth got off, presumably, because of his fame. While apparently, Espinoza's sentence was especially harsh the fact remains that Stallworth's time in prison will be measured in days and not months.

However, in my humble opinion, the Miami DA handled this perfectly, as did Stallworth. The first thing for my non-lawyer friends who are reading this blog is that an important part of many laws, and this law is not an exception, is that there must be actual causation to connect the wrongful action (DUI) with the result (the death). The relevant statute here is Florida Statute section 316.193(3)3, and it requires that the action cause the death.

So there lies the caveat. You can be upset that he was DUI, but did he actually cause the death? From all indications, it appears that the victim jaywalking on the MacArthur Causeway, a 6-lane divided road in Miami "trying to catch a bus". That says to me he ran out in front of traffic. Furthermore, if I remember correctly, there were witness reports that Stallworth wasn't driving that fast and that the victim, more or less stepped right out in front of him. The speed limit was 40 MPH, at least, in the area where the victim was hit.

So, was Stallworth wrong to drive drunk? Sure was, and he admitted it. But if a plea doesn't get done, we have a long trial where we find out just how careless the victim was at 7 AM in the morning, after the night shift, running across a 6-lane highway, only to be hit by a guy, who very likely would have been unable to stop in the first place.

This would have been bad for Stallworth, because he's stuck trying to defend himself against a crime that he has already been convicted of in the public eye. This would have been bad for the victim's family, because who wants the media talking about how careless your son/brother/grandson was, and how it was really his own fault that he died - that anyone, no matter how sober, might have hit and killed you boy. And this would have been bad for a DA, where Stallworth has already been convicted by the public, even though it isn't clear his DUI was the cause of the death. If the DA loses, he's a schmuck.

So, ultimately, Stallworth got his. Was it as bad as some other people's sentences? No. But it also was far from clear that Stallworth was the reason the other person died. He didn't swerve into oncoming traffic. He didn't drive up on the sidewalk. He was pretty much driving the speed limit, when a guy wandered into the middle of a divided highway.

Ultimately, its sad, but the result was just.

Now, people are citing the fact that Vick got years in prison as support that Stallworth was under-punished. My retort is this: Vick was over-punished. 10,000 dog's lives are not worth a single human life. I love dogs. I love Annie, my parents' 5-year-old, beautiful, loving golden retriever. I love my girlfriend parent's dog, Berklee, who is a skinny mut of unknown age, who is so full of energy and life. Not one of those animal's lives is as important as any human beings life, and this is a fact.

Mike Vick killed a bunch of dogs, or caused them to be killed. This action is gross and detestable and appalling. And there are other things influencing their sentences: (1) As noted before, it isn't clear Stallworth committed the crime he was accused of, (2) It is quite clear that Vick did all this on purpose. However, Vick was convicted under a law which was basically created to help the AG of the US nab mobsters. Remember how they got Al Capone because of tax fraud? Yeah, same kind of idea.

Ultimately, Donte Stallworth risked the lives of a lot of people, and unfortunately, someone ended up dead. That particular death may not have been his fault, but what's to say that if he doesn't hit that guy, he doesn't run the next stoplight and kill 3 people instead of 1? His behavior was inexcusable, and he has been punished substantially.

Mike Vick risked no human being's life. He shouldn't have been doing what he was doing. But in my opinion, risking the lives of other human beings, through DUI or any other dangerous behavior (I'm looking right at you Plax...you know you were lucky that no one got hurt from your dumbassery) is far worse than killing any animal, maliciously or otherwise. I fail to see how our society can tolerate DUI and spousal abuse with slaps on the wrist, and yet sentence someone like Vick to prison for years because he killed some dogs.

So, this leads me to my final point, which relates to the NFL's handling of these issues. I am of the opinion that the NFL needs to take a hard-line stance on criminal activity by its players when that activity threatens human life. I think that suspending Stallworth indefinitely was completely appropriate. I think that suspending Vick was fine as well. Where the injustice lies is in the NFL's refusal to act on people like Chris Henry who repeatedly and unabashedly risk other people's lives. How do I mean? Well, just look at Henry's criminal record:

1-30-06: Carrying unlicensed concelead weapon, then threatens someone with it, all while wearing his Bengals jersey.
6-3-06: DUI.
11-6-07: Assaults a valet.
4-2-08: Throws a beer bottle through someone's window, and then punches them in the head.

So, I leave you with this: who is the most deserving of punishment of the group? Stallworth, who drove drunk once, but probably just got unlucky when some poor character ran out in front of his car? Vick for killing dogs? Or Henry for his repeated DUIs and his possession of an illegal firearm? Oh yeah, did I mention that Henry has also had some issues giving alcohol to underage girls?

You Random Mid 80's to Early 90's Baseball Player of the Day is: Otis Nixon!

Your Random Late 80's to Early 90's Baseball Player of the Day is Otis Nixon.

Otis Junior Nixon, Junior, contrary to popular legend, was not born in 1913. Nor was he born in 1878. No matter what your third grade teacher will try and tell you, Otis Junior Nixon, Junior was not alive during the Great Depression and he most certainly did not share cocktails with Teddy Roosevelt. Shockingly, Otis Junior Nixon, Junior was born in 1959. Unfortunately, Otis Junior Nixon, Junior, whose parents were fans of redundancy, suffered from the same disease that Benjamin Button suffered from.

Otis Nixon played in the Major Leagues for 16 seasons, and it wasn't because he was a super talented baseball player. Otis could do one thing exceptionally well... running. Otis could run like wind. The other things Otis did with medicority was slap singles and bunt. Otis could get on base a little bit. And when Otis could get on base, Otis could steal bases with the best of them. At the time of this post, Otis is 16th all-time on the stolen base list. Shockingly, with all his success stealing bases, Otis never once led the league in stolen bases, finishing second twice. (Damn you Marquis Grissom and Kenny Lofton!) In 1709 games over 16 seasons, Otis was only able to hit eleven home runs, which is still 9 more than Rafael Belliard hit in 1154 games, so he has that.

Though many of us remember the free wheeling Otis scampering for second with breakneck speed, there was a darker more troubled side of Otis. A troubled side that cost him all of the 1991 World Series. That trouble was the nose candy. In 1987 Otis was arrested by the authorities while playing for the Cleveland Indians.

My man Otis was able to rise from the pits of despair by finding the power of the divine. Following his playing career, Otis runs On-Track Ministries and is taking classes to obtain his Master's Degree in Divinity in 2009 with a Doctorate Degree to follow in 2011.

Otis also had a brother who briefly played in the Major League, Donnell Nixon, who's hair style would make a young Eriq LaSalle swoon.

In addition to baseball, Otis also played on the United States Men's Cricket Team... warrants mentioning. How Otis got involved in Cricket, well... the nose candy addiction may have played a role in it. Or maybe Otis simply loved playing a game beloved by Sri Lankans.

So here's to you Otis, our Mid 80's to Early 90's Random Baseball Player of the Day, keep running as far as your legs will take you, and we'll try to keep up.

I Don't Want To Shake Your Hand Either Hank Zetterberg...

The Red Wings do not have the right to be pissed off. I have the right to be pissed off. Did I get to spend Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals watching the Pens win their first Cup since I was 11 years old and rocking out the Paul Coffey jersey?

No.

Why?

Because I was in the middle of nowhere Connecticut. Now I was told not to worry because Connecticut was hockey country, I mean, they followed their beloved Whalers until the monstrosity that is Raleigh-Durham snatched the beloved Whale from their warm and tender embrace. So in a sense, Connecticut has a right to be angry. But I digress... I was in Connecticut for a wedding of one of my closest friends, who we'll refer to as "The Monk". I love The Monk, the Monk is a stand up guy who I have no doubt would not have planned a wedding during the Stanley Cup Finals had he known. I also adore the Monk's bride, who we'll refer to as Mrs. Monk, who looked absolutely stunning all weekend. In truth, I really didn't mind this part of Connecticut (Mystic to be exact, which sadly was not the birth place of hip hop artist Mystical) all that much, it had a lovely Dawson's Creek feel to it.

My anger arose that there was no television at the rehearsal dinner, not even in the staff break room. There were no radios. There was no wi-fi capability. I was in the dark, with only the spotty cell phone on my Internet and text messages from Mr. Riley to keep me up to date. When the rehearsal dinner was finally over, there were 2 minutes left in the game. I tried catching the game on terrestrial radio in my car, but I could not find GAME 7 OF THE STANLEY CUP FINALS ANYWHERE. The Mets were playing the Yankees, and that was on at least two stations, but no fucking hockey game. After the win, I couldn't even celebrate the win in The 'Burgh with Pens Fans, Iron City and insobriety. Instead I got to celebrate in a casino with my Miami friends who barely give a shit about hockey. So there's that.

So I come back to Pittsburgh expecting the Red Wings to be respectful like the Pens were last year. You know, a little "Hey guys, nice series, you played us tough and capitalized when we couldn't... but you know it took you 7, we beat you in 6. See you next year for the rubber match." That kind of stuff. Did that happen? Of course not. What happened instead?

Most of the Red Wings decided to bitch because SIDNEY CROSBY DIDN'T SHAKE THEIR FUCKING HANDS WITHIN THE FIRST 2 MINUTES OF WINNING THE FUCKING STANLEY CUP. Way to be classy Detroit.


Kris Draper, Nik Lidstrom, Hank Zetterberg and any of you other motherfuckers should just shut your mouths and stop whining. "But Ironhead, Sidney Crosby didn't shake my hand." "I was waiting for Sidney Crosby to come shake my hand and I waited 45 seconds which was too long so now I feel I have the right to complain." Your usually a classy guy Nik Lidstrom so I'm going to blame this whinyness to the fact that you just lost one of your testicles. Kris Draper and Hank Zetterberg, you get no excuses. The Pens won the fucking Stanley Cup in a series in which you had absolute control of yet you gave it away. You can cry all you want, but if a handshake is that important to you, then you can wait for it. Patience is a virtue my friends.

Sid was all jacked up from the dirty hit on him by The Donkey. He played all of one shift in the third period of Game 7. As soon as the Pens clinched the victory, Sid was grabbed in seven different directions by reporters, teammates, coaches, Gary Bettman, etc. He just won the fucking Stanley Cup at Age 21 and as the face of the league, everyone wanted on him. He was barely able to properly enjoy the victory with his teammates immediately after. Listen, I had a Bar Mitzvah, I know how it sucks when all you want to do is party with your buddies and get your hands on the kosher pigs in a blanket but the goddamn paparazzi is trying to take your picture. So back off Draper and Zetterberg. Let Sid enjoy this. Let us enjoy this. This shouldn't even be a story but your whiny assess tried to make it one to rid yourselves of the stink of your giant collapse.


Now excuse us while we go celebrate.

Your Random Late 80's, Early 90's Baseball Player of the Day: Mickey Tettleton!

Mickey Tettleton was probably best known for his batting stance - some kind of weird upright-standing stance that only broke when he went to swing.


Now, don't get me wrong, I think this makes him pretty cool. That, and the eye-black. Really has a dead-ball era style to it.


However, this is no story of praise. No, this is the story of Tettleton's life - underachievement for the sake of novelty.

Mickey Tettleton had a great eye. Between 1990 and 1995, he walked 642 times. In the strike-shortened 1994 season, Tet pulled a .419 OBP out of a .248 batting average, because of his patience.

Tettleton could also hit for power. He homered 30 times in a season 4 times in his career. If you look at the percentage of his hits that went for extra bases, as a portion of his total hits, the proportion is rather staggering. Tettleton could have been a great player if...

Well, if he had learned a normal fucking batting stance. Now, I can't say I've done a lot of analysis on Tet's swing, but if you have that good an eye, and you can hit the ball that well, my only explanation for why you hit .241 on your career, while striking out every 4th time you go to the plate, is that you're getting too much head movement, and too much body movement. If you've played baseball, you know the first thing that goes on guys who are slumping is the ability to keep their head in one place through their whole swing. Plus, if he cocked as much as I think he did from that weird-ass stance of his, he probably also had issues getting around on hard throwers.

That aside, Tet had two interesting practices/superstitions/whatever. The first involved the greatest fucking cereal on earth, Froot Loops. Now, everyone knows that Froot Loops have been the source of many great people's powers: Robin Hood, John F. Kennedy (Jr.), Suge Knight, Senator Arlen Spector, and most famously, Veruca Salt front-lady Louise Post. However, none of the aforementioned superheroes (either in the literal or figurative terms) actually admitted it. Tettleton, on the other hand, wore the source of his power on his sleeve. Or in his hat, as shown in the picture to the right.

Tettleton was so empowered by the little fruit (froot)-flavored, sugar-covered corn/oat/wheat hoops that www.baseballprospectus.com actually underwent the task of adjusting his stats to a world where Froot Loops did not exist. While the .047 batting average they projected may be a bit pessimistic, it nonetheless shows that Froot Loops really did give him a boost. If only JFK, Jr. had eaten his Froot Loops on the fateful night of July 19, 1999 he would have remembered that the top of the airplane faces up. (Lack of Froot Loops as an option for room service in his penthouse suite at the Plaza Hotel was offered as a possible explanation for anyone could fail the bar 3 times).

However, the whole Froot Loops thing isn't even the most unusual part of the Tet legacy. Mickey Tettleton, according to Wikipedia (which is, as we know, edited by the most serious people on earth, so you know this has to be true), used to carry monkey AND/OR rabbit "balls" in his back pocket for good luck.

Well, I have no idea what the fuck he could be talking about except animal testicles. Although it makes you wonder - I would think that a monkey would have bigger nuts than a rabbit. Maybe I'm wrong, but if you put them side by side, I would just say that monkey balls > rabbit balls. Now, I will admit - there is such thing in certain eastern cuisine as a "monkey ball" which is basically a meatball made with bunches of different kinds of meats. However, I am unable to find any similar type of "rabbit ball" which would explain that instead of animal testicles, Tet only had ground up spheres of cooked (or uncooked?) mystery meat in his back pocket.

I'm really not sure which is weirder.

So, the story we can all learn from Tet is this: with a decent batting stance + Froot Loops + monkey balls = the next Yogi Berra. Without either Froot Loops or Ape Nuts = Chris Bando.

Without further ado:
The Good: Loved the Loops, could hit for solid power from both sides, the good kind of crazy we expect in our catchers (without being the creepy Darren Daulton kind of crazy), played with the most awesomely mediocre set of third basemen ever: Carney Lansford, Craig Worthington, Travis Fryman and Dean Palmer. Awesome.

The Bad: Seriously, shorten your swing and you're golden...guess it's about 15 years too late, huh? Even without the Loops, Post could have written "Volcano Girls".

Your Random Mid 80's to Early 90's Baseball Player of the Day is: Mike Greenwell!

Your Random Mid 80's to Early 90's Baseball Player of the Day is Mike Greenwell, the winner of the 1988 American League MVP Award the runner up for the 1988 American League MVP. Award which he totally would have won had Jose Canseco not been inserting buffalo testosterone into his gigantic ass. In fact, let's just refer to Mike Greenwell as the 1988 American League MVP Award winner.

How do we know Mr. Greenwell was not inserting buffalo testosterone into his ass? We know because the dude wrestled fucking alligators. Wrestled. Fucking. Alligators. Coincidentally, this is how Mr. Greenwell earned himself the nickname "Gator". Although the nickname "bad ass motherfucker who wrestles fucking alligators" would have sufficed as well.

Additionally, he and Wade Boggs (also not juiced, except for 1987) had a running competition to see who could give the meaner moustache ride. Unfortunately for Greenwell, it looks like he was the runner up in that one, too. But at least Greenwell can hold onto the fact that he was the best person in that contest who wasn't a sex addict.

Mr. Greenwell's 1988 line of a .325 average, 22 home runs, and 116 RBI's would be the crowning achievement in an otherwise lackluster career with the Boston Red Sox and Hanshin Tigers. Mr. Greenwell would never again hit more than 15 home runs or knock in 100 runs again.

While most once mediocre baseball players would see their star fade and fall into the great unknown, Mr. Greenwell had all desire to spit in the face of that trend. For Mr. Greenwell, wrestling alligators and winning American League MVP awards would not be enough.

In 2006, Mr. Greenwell made his Craftsman Truck Series debut driving late model stock cars.

Mr. Greenwell is also the proprietor of "Mike Greenwell's Bat-A-Ball & Family Fun Park" in beautiful picturesque Cape Coral, Florida. "Mike Greenwell's Bat-A-Ball & Family Fun Park" includes such attractions as: "14 Different Go-Cart Tracks", "19 Hole Minature Golf", "Large Arcade Room", "Paintball Field", "Fish Feeding Dock", "8 Batting Cages", "Playground" and "Snackbar." With all that amusement, it's amazing Mr. Greenwell has time for anything else.

Mr. Greenwell has also extended his brand into the Latin American Sector by making appearances on Telemundo for a "ProBatter Video Simulator Pitcher".





Here's to you Mike Greenwell, you may have been cheated out of an American League MVP Award by Jose Canseco, but you've truly achieved the American Dream.

Why Pens Fans Hate Hossa

Mr. Ruben commented earlier on how bad it sucks to be Marian Hossa right now, and how we Pens fans should move on. Well, I am not going to beat that dead horse, because Pens fans have moved on.

However, since I'm now making it a practice of addressing things I've seen on Deadspin on this blog, a post by Matt Sussman on June 13 rambled (not that I don't do the same) about how Hossa really did make the right decision, but maybe was the reason the Pens won this year.

Now, I may be reading this the wrong way (as I apparently misred Dashielle Bennett's quote Re Scuderi in Game 6 - presuming that we don't have an imposter in our mix, in which case I would like to know who goes around pretending to be Dashielle Bennett, because I'm sure even he would think that was about the most random thing ever) but I took it as yet another jab at Pens fans for hating Marian Hossa.

So, allow me to clarify a little bit. It's missing the point to place this in the same category as, say, Johnny Damon leaving the Red Sox, or another former Penguin, Jaromir Jagr bitching his way off the team. It is true, Hossa was only here for 4 months. If you asked anyone who pays attention to hockey in this town, they would have told you, up through the last game of the Finals, that Hossa was probably going to leave. No one had any illusions about his intentions - he wanted more money than we could give him, and that would be that.

However, in the short time that Hossa was here, he was widely embraced by the Pens' fanbase. He played superbly in the playoffs, which was new for him. Arguably, he played the most meaningful portion of his career in Pittsburgh. The fans loved him, and loved watching him. A small part of us hoped that somehow, some way, he could be convinced to stay in Pittsburgh.

However, he then went and signed with Detroit. Was this the "smart" move? Sure? I guess so? The issue, though, was that Hossa's complaint, Hossa's reason not to sign with a Penguins team that had just gone to the Stanley Cup Finals, Hossa's reason not to take the opportunity to play next to the best passing center in the league for the coming years was that he wanted more money. But Hossa didn't ditch us for the money. No, he left because he thought he'd "have a better change of winning" in Detroit.

He signed there for the same amount of money we were offering him. And for a shorter commitment. He knew we could match that. He didn't want it, though. What Pittsburghers have the problem with is that we didn't get ditched for more money. We got ditched because Hossa made the decision that the 25 guys he played the 4 most intense months of his career with weren't good enough. Pittsburghers were pissed because we got dissed in the most violent way possible, as sports go. So, people can tell us, oh, well, he made the logical decision, you shouldn't hate/blame him. Hell yeah we should hate him. He told us we couldn't do it. This wasn't some TV personality saying that. It was the guy who was an intergral part of your team during the playoffs. Frankly, it hurt.

So, I believe Pittsburgh fans were justified in their hatred of Hossa. However, I also think that now is a fine time to let it go. He got his. For once, karma seems to have come around swiftly and in just the way that any Pens fan would have wanted.

You Fail Marian Hossa! (Now It's Time Us Pens Fans Move On)

February 27, 2008.

Penguins acquire Marian Hossa for Stanley Cup Run. According to ESPN.com, Hossa couldn't hide his excitement at joining the Penguins, a team that he said "has so much talent, it's almost scary."

June 4, 2008

Penguins lose to Detroit Red Wings in Game 6 of the Stanley Cup Finals. Team hopeful for next year. Hossa expresses desire to stay with Pens for long-term contract.

July 2, 2008

Hossa signs with Detroit Red Wings for 1 year, 7.4 million. Pens had offered Hossa a 5 year deal worth 35 million and a 7 year deal worth 49 million. Rumors had Edmonton offering 9 million per year.

"It was a really tough decision for me to make," Hossa said. "When I compared the two teams, I felt like I would have a little better of a chance to win the Cup in Detroit."

June 15, 2009.

Red Wings fumble a 2-0 and a 3-2 series lead to lose to the Penguins 4-3 in Game 7 at home in the Joe Louis Arena. Hossa fails to score any goals during the finals. He gets to watch his old teammates hoist the Stanley Cup that he felt so confident would be his. The City of Pittsburgh rejoices.

Prior to his trade to the Penguins in 2008, Hossa had a reputation as a underachiever when it came to the playoffs. During his 2008 Stanley Cup Final run playing with Sid, Hossa finished second on the Pens with 26 points in 12 goals. There was chemistry, there was promise, there was the future.

Nearly a year later, Hossa had trouble scoring six goals in the Red Wings playoff goals totaling a measly 15 points. Hossa never looked comfortable. Deemed Public Enemy Number One in Pittsburgh the momment he signed with Detroit, Pens fans gave it to Hossa at every chance they could. Hossa, one of the only two active Game 7 Detroit players without his name on the Stanley Cup, will now be the whipping boy in Detroit for the Red Wings collapse.

Hossa took a gamble in signing with Detroit. He turned down at least 35 million dollars, and possibly as much as 63 million dollars for 7.4 million dollars in a collapsing economy. With the salary cap schedule to go down, unless some team offers Hossa a ridiculous contract, he won't make the same amount he turned down last summer.

Of course, everyone would be singing a different tune had the Red Wings won the Stanley Cup: Hossa would have his Cup and would be free to sell himself off to the highest bidder. Nobody would have faulted Hossa if he bolted the Islanders, Coyotes, Kings or Panthers in order to chase his Cup Dream. The problem was that Hossa was disingenuous. He talked the talk about wanting to be with a winner and a long term contract and the Pens off erred him both. He played the Pens, their players, their management and most importantly their fans and jumped ship to what he thought was a "better team". Hossa was flat out wrong. So rejoice Pens fan, we no longer have to worry about Hossa. He gambled on his future and he lost. We've won. We shouldn't wast another minute booing Hossa. He's tarnished his NHL career with the term "failure" for the rest of his career. Regardless of whether he latches on somewhere and eventually gets his name on Lord Stanley's Cup, we'll always remember him as a failure.

Your (Not-so) Random Late 80's, Early 90's Baseball Player of the Day: Andy Van Slyke!

Andy Van Slyke was my favorite player growing up. Why, you may ask, was I saw enamored with the solid, but not superstar, Center Fielder of the Pittsburgh Pirates? Well, his name was Andy, just like mine. Hope I didn't give too much away right there.

He got the Player of the Day spot today because, this past Sunday, he signed the back of my Pirates Van Slyke jersey before the game. Generally, I wouldn't do such a thing - ask a player for an autograph of anything. Frankly, it doesn't do much for me. However, the 6-year old inside of me nudged me to do it, and in retrospect, the cursive "Andy Van Slyke" right above his name on the back of my jersey does look pretty good up on the wall. Plus, how else are you supposed to get something like that? It's not like you can get at your local sports memorabilia store.

Andyhow, Van Slyke was a great player, because he really, really knew how to play baseball. I'm not a Mets fan per-se (I do have an affinity for the team, because I had so many friends who loved the team growing up), but I love to watch David Wright play. Like Van Slyke, he's an excellent athlete. But what makes him an All-Star baseball player isn't his physical skill, as much as the fact that he never takes a play off, always has his head in the game, and just plain understands what can be a complicated and nuanced game.

A 5-time Gold Glover in Center Field, Van Slyke was often overlooked, as he was overshadowed by fellow outfielders Barry Bonds and Bobby Bonilla. However, Van Slyke finished in the top-5 in MVP voting twice. A strong hitter, he had the capability to play at the top of the lineup - posting league-leading triples numbers in 1988, and stealing 30+ bases three times in his career. He also had enough power to be slotted as a 3 or 5 hitter.

"The Sid Bream Play", as it is known around these parts, was Van Slyke's coup-de-grace. 1992 was arguably his best season ever, as "Slick" hit .324 (2d in the NL), with 14 Homers and 89 RBIs. He also scored 103 runs, and Double a league-best 45 times. The Pirates took the Braves to 7 in the NLCS, only to blow a 2-0 lead in the 9th inning, and falter in the playoffs for the third straight year.

The next season, Slick would break his collarbone trying to catch a ball over the center field wall. He would never be the same. He played in Pittsburgh in 1994, but did so unspectacularly. In 1995, he was a free agent, and signed with the Orioles, only to be traded mid-season to Philadelphia. 1995 would be Van Slyke's last year, at age 34.

Andy returned to Major League Baseball in 2006, as the first-base coach for the Tigers.

The Good: Apparently had 100 MPH fastball; awesome outfielder; class-act baseball player; clearly loved the game; awesome first name; last good Pittsburgh Pirates player.

The Bad: If you say anything bad about Andy, I will fight you.

Your Random Mid 80's To Early 90's Baseball Player Of The Day: Greg Swindell!

Your Mid 80's to Early 90's Random Baseball Player of the Day is Greg Swindell.

Greg Swindell was possibly the greatest player to ever put on a Texas Longhorns baseball jersey that arguably didn't use Performance Enhancing Drugs to find his success on the baseball diamond, <cough>. He was one of only 7 players to be named to the College Baseball All-American Team three times. Such success led him to be the second overall pick in the 1986 draft behind the incomparable Jeff King. Though he never truly lived up to lofty expectations, through will power, an irresistible zest for life and gutsy determination, Swindell would eventually find his glory.

Swindell suffered through the early part of his career playing in for the miserable late 80's early 90's Cleveland Indians. While with these atrocious Indians teams, Swindell was the number two starter behind Eddie Harris, was roommates on the road with Jake Taylor, slept with Roger Dorn's wife (that slut), didn't quite understand the humor of Willie Mays Mayes and served as a young mentor for Rick Vaughn.

Just when the game had seem to have passed Swindell by, he reinvented himself as a mediocre middle reliever eventually winning a world series win with the 2001 Arizona Diamondbacks. Wherever the winds of fate take Swindell for the rest of his life, he will always be able to know that as of the time of this post, he's 92nd all-time in Major League Baseball in walks per nine innings pitched at 2.02.

Swindell has also dabbled a little bit in acting. According to his IMDB.com resume, Swindell has appeared in the 2001 World Series as "himself (Arizona Diamondback Pitcher), and the 1989 MLB All-Star Game as "himself (A.L. Pitcher).

So a tip of the hat to you, Greg Swindell, you weren't able to save the Cleveland Indians, but your 123-122 career record is the very definition of mediocrity.

Your Random Mid 80's to Early 90's Baseball Player of the Day: Brook Jacoby!

Brook Jacoby got selected for today for a number of reasons. First, he's one of those people who has a name that you will never, ever, ever hear again. There are, apparently, 9,948 Jacobys in the the United States. That means, you're as likely to meet a Jacoby as your are a Clemens, Gruber (theme...), McNulty (or, McNutty, depending on the parlance) or Woodcock (lol). He also has a girls name, but it's misspelled (Brooke, right?). I guess it could be Brooks, as in Brooks Bataglia (dammit), but not just plain "Brook".

Second, he's so damn dated. No way major leaguers wear those cheap-ass stirrups-painted-on-to-your-sock-things, that don't go down far enough, so that you can actually see the white of the rest of the sock. Sucked the soul right out of the concept of the stirrup. Everything about him is dated. I was able to find his 1990 Donruss card. The design of the card is awesome, specifically the red border that features black paint-splatter dots on either side of the picture. However, the picture itself is lame and unexciting. His cheesy-ass '80s-era uniform and flip-down sunglasses are framed by the stale blue background of the old Municipal Stadium in Cleveland. He also looks like the guy you'd have playing third on your work softball team. About 5-9, 170 (he was actually 5-11, 195). Decent arm, decent glove, can't really hit. Guess that kinda sums up his career, though.

However, most importantly (to me at least) are his stats. Those stats are, to say the least, unusual. Specifically his career year, 1987. Now, Brook Jacoby did play for the Cleveland Indians. These Indians went 61-101, finishing last in the league in attendance (averaging about 12,500/per game). But when you look at their lineup, you're left wondering what was missing. This was a starting lineup that featured Jacoby (who went .300-32-69, and we will talk about the 69 later), a young Joe Carter (.264-32-106), Julio Franco (.319-8-52), Mel Hall (.280-18-76), Brett Butler (.295-9-41), Cory Snyder (.236-33-82) and Pat Tabler (.307-11-86). Carter ultimately made a name for himself by hitting the game-winning homer against Wild Thing (the other/real one) in Game 6 of the '93 Series. Julio Franco was a solid #2 hitter for most of the '80's, and I believe owns a batting title from, say, 1991. Brett Butler is widely considered one of the better leadoff men of the past 30 years, owning a career .290 average. Mel Hall went on to be the power on some pretty mediocre late '80s-early '90s Yankees teams, but was not a bad player. Snyder and Tabler, like Jacoby, were mediocre players at best, but as you can see, had serviceable numbers. This was a team that had 3 30-homer guys, 5 guys hit over .280, and have 3 30-steal guys. One would think this would lead to runs.

Cleveland scored 742 runs that year. 12th in the AL.

I don't know why this happened, except to think that the entire team had A-Rod syndrome. Jacoby, especially, had 62 extra-base hits, and 69 RBIs. Ultimately, though, I found it in an obscure little stat - Jacoby came to the plate 27 times with runners on 3rd and less than 2 outs. Only 7 times out of those 27 was he able to advance the runner in. Similarly, of the 344 runners on base during Jacoby at-bats, only 41 of them came in to score. This left him with percetages of 27% and 12%.

By comparison, much stronger hitters will have percetages of roughly 50-60% for runners on 3d with less than 2 outs, and 20% for all runners scored.

Put in perspective, that would have meant another 30+ RBIs for Jacoby, or the 100 RBI season we're used to seeing.

Also, one last thing. Apparently, he's best friends with post-cokehead Dave Parker. The like to fish together. Go on a trip to Wisconsin every year.

The Good: Unique name; dated style; named one of the 100 greatest Cleveland Indians of all-time.

The Bad: Little anxious with runners on base; ... Wow, not much down-side to this one.

How Dare You Riley!, Zach Morris Was Part Native American?, and Other Random Thoughts...

I will throw the first brick at my colleague Mr. Riley, who thus far I believe has done an excellent job. I have to lodge a formal retort to a point Mr. Riley made in his last post.

A solid 90% of Mr. Riley's post is fantastic. But at one point, he takes a horrible turn into journalistic filth that would make Dan LeBatard envious. In his blatant hatred for almost anything Detroit (he spares Andy Van Slyke, who's most notable comparable players according to Baseball-Reference.com include Von Hayes, Brian Jordan and the incomparable Kevin McReynolds. Just putting that out there) he forgets that even in a decrepit city like Detroit, there are some success stories. See, Bettis, Jerome; Gaye, Marvin and Bell, Kristen. Mr. Ruben likey Kristen Bell.

Throwing Jalen Rose under the bus is a blatant example of his LeBatardian filth. Jalen Rose was the X-Factor on the most entertaining college basketball teams of the last 20 years. Aside from C-Webb, Rose had the most effective NBA career of the Fab-Five. Rose was consistently rated one of the snazziest dressers in the NBA. Finally, Rose has offered up some of the wittiest, and most unique insight into the NBA:

"It must have been two in the morning when we got to Detroit, 'cause
nothing was open but hospitals, jails, and legs."

"I put together our roster on "NBA Live" and we're pretty good."On
explaining his surprise over the Knicks' horrible 23-59 record

"I've got to stop this. My entourages are getting entourages."On the trouble
finding tickets for everyone when he returns to Detroit

"I'm a GM in fantasy basketball and I'm a GM on PlayStation, so on PlayStation I
probably would have got a little more, but this is real life, so I don’t
know."On the Vince Carter trade.

Classic. Props to you Jalen.

Other Random Thoughts...

I awoke this morning to the pleasant image of Bayside High. Apparently, TBS still runs two hours of Saved By The Bell each morning. I love Saved By The Bell as much as the next person (but not as much as our buddy Rajul) but sometimes the story lines are just too fucking ridiculous. As an example of such ridiculousness, most people will cite episodes such as: the one where Jessie takes too many caffeine pills; the one where suddenly they find oil reserves on the Bayside campus; or even the one where Lisa is suddenly allergic to Screech. The episode on this morning was a forgotten gem: the one where Zach Morris finds out that he is part Native American. Um.... What? I can accept that Zach can pass as Jewish at a Dodger game and that he can freeze time whenever he wants to move the narrative along, but believing that Zach Morris is a Native American? Come on, that's a leap of faith I'm not willing to make. People can bitch about the Redskins and Blackhawks having those names but they don't care that Zach Morris is making a mockery of their proud heritage? In the words of our buddy Joe, "THAT IS OUTRAGEOUS SIR."

Tim Donaghy, disgraced NBA Ref and current slave of some large dude in prison, got his knees beat down in prison with a paint rolling stick. I followed every season of Oz and I feel like they've showed every horrible way one can be attacked with a weapon in prison, but even Oz couldn't think up a paint rolling stick. Aren't these things like a glorified coat hanger with some soft fuzz at the end? Wrap a roll of butt paper around a coat hanger and try to tear someone's knee, see if you can.

Father of the Oompa Prompa?

Omelet Stations. Why aren't there more of these wonderful oasis's? Who doesn't like an omelet station? I feel like there's a way we can work these more into our every day lives.

Nik Lidstrom suffered a "nearly catastrophic" injury to his testicle during the Conference Finals? As much as I despise the team you play for Nik, I don't wish a testicle injury on anyone. I'm still trying to get over Chris Snyder's fractured testicle. Get better soon Nik, but keep playing sluggish through Friday night.

Your Random Mid 80's to Early 90's Baseball Player of the Day: Tim Teufel!

Your Random Mid 80's to Early 90's Baseball Player of the Day is Tim Teufel. "The Tuff" to those who knew him best was the most lovable New York Met during the late 80's and early 90's. Whether The Tuff was running out ground outs, turning two or signing an autograph for a young boy who's puppy just died, The Tuff always gave it 110%. Sometimes, if you played your cards just right, you might have just caught him doing the "Teufel Shuffle" before his at bat: pointing his derrire out, gyrating side to side, taking some practice swings as the ladies swooned.

Devoted "Teuffites" will agrue that The Tuff never soared higher than he did during the 1986 and 1987 seasons. The Tuff was an integral part of the 1986 World Series Champion Mets. The Tuff served as the glue that bound the Mets during those years when players would often find themselves torn between doing lines of blow with Darryl Strawberry and Doc Gooden off Mr. Met, discussing the recent edition of Reader's Digest in Gary Carter's book club, or applying grecian formula to Keith Hernandez's mustache. In 1987, The Tuff caught fire finishing the season with a .308 average, 14 home runs and 61 RBI's putting an exclamation point on a stellar career.

Though he toiled in the minors post-retirement as a manager, he never could return to the glory of his playing days.

As the cloud darkened over so many lives as the American Economic Collapse of the 2000's hit, The Tuff would face his darkest days. While The Tuff often took the baseball for a ride during his halycon playing days, in 2009 it would be Bernie Madoff turning the tables and taking The Tuff for a ride. The Tuff and his wife, The Tuffette, appeared on "The Madoff List" six times. You should have been smarter with your money.

Alas, don't weep for The Tuff too long. The Mets have done right. In honor of his lasting contributions to New York Mets lore, the team has erected an 18 Foot Tall Bronze Statute immortalizing The Tuff for years to come.