Crash Bag, Vol. 18: A Cacophony of Squeaky Octopi
I own a stuffed octopus. It used to belong to the son of a friend of mine, but I inherited it after the young boy outgrew it. This octopus is special–each of its eight tentacles has a squeaker tuned to one note of a major scale. The possibilities for such a toy are endless–on one visit, I sat down and figured out how to play the 1812 Overture and Crazy Train on this octopus, among other compositions, so my friend gave me the toy with the understanding that I’d enjoy it more than his kids ever did.
I bring this up because I think all things should have a musical component. Life is more fun when you’re surrounded by musical instruments. I discovered that if you tap a certain point on the steering wheel of my car in a certain way, it sounds like a cowbell, which comes in handy when I’m on a long road trip and the urge to listen to “Low Rider” by War strikes me.
When I’m dictator of the world, different parts of everyday objects will be tuned to different pitches. So when you’re bored, say, in a meeting, you can tap out an impromptu steel drum cover of Steely Dan’s “Reelin’ in the Years.” If the spirit so moves you. It’ll be paradise. Mankind will be blanketed in a cacophony of squeaky octopi, and we’ll all be too happy to oppress each other. It’s the way of the future.
@threwouttime: “when will phillies postseason tickets go on sale?”
My guess? Sometime in late summer 2014.
But that reminds me–we had a request from @erhudy for a recipe for “a delicious bacon-wrapped monkfish.” So I’m not one of those baseball bloggers who needs to show off how much he knows about cooking and how much he cares about what he eats. I eat (by mass) probably more fried chicken than any other food group. My viewpoint toward cooking is: “Put in oven/on stove, heat until it changes color, douse in Frank’s Red Hot.” That’s how I cook chicken, beef, vegetables, bread, fish, mutton, rice, venison, bread, eggs, everything. I can cook (I take great pride in my chili), but I’d rather just heat up some frozen chicken and frozen cauliflower and pour Frank’s on them until they taste good.
Anyhoo, not only am I not a gourmet myself, but I really don’t like fish, so I submit this recipe by renowned chef Emeril Lagasse. Got some bacon, some monkfish and about an hour? Knock yourself out. And give me some–I’m hungry.
But I’ll answer another question, since I dismissed the first one.
“what will min-marts BA be at seasons end? .100? Higher? Lower?”
Probably higher, just because I can’t imagine a major league hitter finishing the season worse than .115/.169/.192. I guess it really shouldn’t surprise us that Mini-Mart’s OPS is .361, because when you have so little power and such bad plate discipline, it’s hard to overcome a .115 batting average. I’m not sure what he’s doing in the majors, honestly. Actually, I am sure what he’s doing: making lots of outs.
The way casual fans view Mini-Mart is actually a pleasant surprise. Sure, most people decry his appalling lack of baseball skill for someone in his profession, but I’ve heard multiple people rave about his defense and baserunning, or his youth and potential for the future. Never mind that all of those things bear not even a casual relationship with fact, but I like what it says about humanity. We all know Michael Martinez is a terrible hitter, so therefore he must be a good defender and baserunner. Well, actually, the best thing I can say about his defense and baserunning is that he’s better than Ryan Howard in both facets of the game. But given that, he’s got to have room to improve, right? Well, no, he turns 30 next week, so if you don’t know him by now, you will never never never know him. No you won’t.
The same thing goes for Michael Young, who is a smallpox scar on the face of the Texas Rangers. Young once won a batting title, and can play multiple positions in the same way that Martinez can: if you put him in the lineup at, say, third base, he will stand there for nine defensive innings and occupy a particular point in space. But observers (among them Rangers manager Ron Washington) have been concocting a story about what Young adds to the team from a standpoint of morale, that he brings intangible value as a team leader, which excuses his being, by both Baseball Reference and FanGraphs WAR, the worst player in the major leagues this year whose name isn’t Jeff Francoeur. Now, even if this were true, I’m not sure how he couldn’t add this value from the bench while Jurickson Profar or Mike Olt batted in his place, but that’s another story.
Anyway, that we make up (as in “fabricate in the face of overwhelming empirical evidence to the contrary”) reasons to value Young and Martinez speaks to a tendency to look for value in our fellow humans where none exist. It’s impossible, we assume, for a baseball player to be as entirely worthless as Michael Martinez appears to be. The statistical record indicates that he’s a fetid, squishy garbage bag of week-old bat carcasses left outdoors overnight in the Alabama heat. But surely he can’t be that bad. So let’s look for reasons in the fuzzier regions of the game–defense and intangibles–to find some value in something that we know, deep down, to have none.
It’s a charitable and warm reflex from a community that is too often neither. I think I’ve just talked myself into the idea of Michael Martinez as being life-affirming, rather than infuriating. This has been a good morning so far.
But let’s not lose focus.
@Estebomb: “Just exactly how bad is Michael Martinez?”
Very much so. In fact, I’ve invented a new word to describe it: “blemmorhagic.” It’s a portmanteau of “blinding” and “hemmorhagic,” because watching Michael Martinez play baseball is like losing your sight while bleeding internally. I hope you like it.
@fotodave: “what is the most pressing need for the Phil’s in the offseason? 3B? LF? Relief?”
The Phillies’ relief corps was awful this season. But add Papelbon to a healthy De Fratus, a healthy Stutes, a healthy Herndon, Phillippe Aumont and some combination of Tony No-Dad and Jeremy Horst and you’ve got a bullpen that, if it’s not good, then at least has enough young guys who throw hard that it probably won’t be awful. This goes double if the Squirtle that is Aumont evolves into a fully-formed Blastoise. You only need two or three really good relievers before it stops mattering how far Josh Lindblom‘s fastball gets hit.
So for the bullpen, Ruben Amaro would be best-served doing the same thing in 2013 that he did in 2012. And before someone trots out that monumentally stupid “the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result” nonsense, let me point out 1) the hypocrisy of using the same “Axiom unsupported by facts/Q.E.D.” line of rhetoric and expecting it to work this time and 2) that the definition of insanity is actually something else. I’m sorry that other people have read the same fortune cookie you have, but reciting quotes with sketchy attribution (I know this one is said to have come from Albert Einstein) without context or understanding doesn’t make you impressive. It makes you look like a stone dullard, particularly when everyone else has heard those sayings as well, and (if they have any sense) disregarded them.
I find it absolutely preposterous that in 2012, 43 years after man first walked on the surface of the moon, that there are people, in the United States, many of whom are not functionally illiterate, who walk around on the street under the impression that saying “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result” merits any response other than being beaten to death with a shopping cart. Do you think that there’s anyone who’s still impressed by your knowing that quote? I’d suggest perhaps peddling such “wisdom” to a more receptive audience, perhaps some tribe in Indonesia who’s yet to discover fire, but I don’t want to pollute their gene pool as well.
So third base.
Bill wants the Phillies to trade for Chase Headley. Or so he says. I think he’s actually just saying that in an attempt to pass the Turing Test. I’ve never met Bill in person, nor even seen a photograph of him, so I’ve spent the past three years operating under the assumption that he’s a very clever computer program that’s reached self-awareness. So this maniacal trade-for-Chase Headley nonsense is an attempt to give the appearance of human fallibility to throw us off the scent. Don’t be fooled–every minute you believe trading for Chase Headley to be a good idea brings Bill one minute closer to creating Skynet. I, suffice it to say, don’t think trading for Chase Headley is a good idea, and am totally comfortable heading into 2013 with the cast of Mean Girls penciled into the lineup at third base.
And I thought the plan in left field was Domonic Brown, with some Nate Schierholtz/John Mayberry platoon in right. I’d be cool with that, I guess, if they got a decent center fielder in free agency. There are more and better options in center, but we’ll get to that later, after we interrupt this programming for some political coverage.
“more powerful duo: Halladay/Hamels or Clinton/Obama”
Halladay’s showing his age and Obama has the nuclear launch codes. I’ll go with Clinton/Obama. But seriously, Obama has the launch codes, so if you don’t vote for him you’ll be killed with a cruise missile.
@bxe1234: “Did you play little league/HS baseball and what position? Who’d you model your stance after?”
I played little league, but not high school. I was terrible. I was pudgy, and I wore glasses, and not only was I not the coach’s kid, but I wasn’t the coach’s kid’s best friend, so I found myself in the outfield and in the bottom of the lineup. There was one year where one coach took an interest in actually teaching me how to play baseball rather than indulging his inner Billy Martin, and I actually learned how to hit, so Coach John Dailey, if you’re reading this, I thank you.
But I played a little bit of second base, a little third base and a lot of right field. I started thinking about baseball critically about the same time Derek Jeter came up to the majors, so I was a huge Jeter fan. I don’t know that I modeled my stance after anyone in particular, but Jeter was my idol. I held my hands up high and tried to inside-out the ball like Jeter, and I kept my feet closed to try to get some power to the opposite field. It didn’t work. Jeter inside-outed more than 3,000 major league hits and I had washed out of little league by 6th grade.
@TonyMcIV: “People keep saying, ‘oooh sign Bourn, or ooh sign Hamilton for CF!’ I think it’s crazy, but it depends on Mayberry doesn’t it?”
It is crazy, and it has nothing to do with Mayberry. Bourn and Hamilton are both going to be outrageously overpriced in free agency. So signing one of them does have the virtue of fitting in well with the Phillies’ recent policy on free agents, even if it isn’t good baseball policy as such. I’d much rather go with either B.J. Upton, who I’ve said before is almost as good as Bourn and will sign, I believe, for much less. With Hamilton, you’ll be paying for a former No. 1 draft pick and AL MVP, batting champion and home run champion. What you’ll get is the decline phase of a player who misses 30 or more games a year anyway as a matter of principle. Not smart.
That people think that buying the best player at the highest price is hardly surprising in an age where pride in one’s ignorance of economics is a political asset. Call it Death by Hadden.
Oh, look, the boss wants a question answered.
@CrashburnAlley: “Great song or greatest song?”
Are you pissed that I outed you as a computer? Apparently this song is a thing on the internet, but I hadn’t heard it until just now. It’s actually not as terrifying as I expected it to be. I will say this: ain’t nobody having more fun than the guy in that video. Nobody. I hope one day to enjoy myself a fraction as much as Psy, whoever he is, is enjoying himself in that video.
And no. Believe me, anything the Koreans can do, the Russians can do crazier.
@ETDWN: “The music played at CBP is terrible. What kind of jams would you play if you were in charge of in game entertainment?”
I’m probably the last person you want in charge of the music at CBP. I’d probably just hire @bravesorganist (a must-follow if you’re on Twitter) and let him do his thing.
But if I were forced to DJ Phillies games myself? I’d probably go heavy not on current insipid pop earworms (“Call Me Maybe” would be interdit in my stadium), but from the insipid pop earworms of a generation ago. We would do the Macarena every half-inning. We would do the Macarena during mound visits, and in between Jonathan Papelbon‘s pitches. We would do the Macarena during stolen base attempts.
@jondgc: “How great is that new Sportscenter commercial?”
Quite good. ESPN’s SportsCenter commercials have been uniformly excellent for what must be 20 years now. It’s a great premise, that all the athletes ESPN covers live and work at the Bristol studios, and it’s led to some hilarious advertisements. Clayton’s is great, but it falls outside my personal top five. What are those top five? I thought you’d never ask.
- Chris Paul and Brian Kenny Order Chinese Food.
- Lance Armstrong Generator.
- Landycakes vs. Copier.
- Arnold Palmer. Almost the perfect joke. It took me months to stop laughing at that one.
- Y2K Test. It’s still the champion. And I have no idea how they recovered from losing Charley Steiner.
@geatland: “Feeling serious hockey anxiety, so if you were going to make the Phils a hockey team, what are the line combinations?”
Yeah, we’re going to have a lockout, because we’re okay with a society than enables multi-million-dollar corporations to unilaterally roll back their employees’ wages. How is it that we’re okay with perpetuating the idea that companies are entitled to economic security but people aren’t? And more important than that, I had big plans to go to All-Star weekend this year. The cruelest trick the NHL could play on America is removing the only way Columbus, Ohio in January could be fun.
Anyway, Phillies line combinations:
- Rollins/Utley/Howard. I imagine Utley as a Mike Richards/Ryan Kesler type of center, a grinder with elite skill. Rollins can be the Peter Bondra type, and we can park Howard in the slot to clean up the garbage. Even Zdeno Chara would need the Army Corps of Engineers to move Howard out from in front of the net.
- Lee/Hamels/Brown. A solid second scoring line if you can get over having three lefties in one unit.
- Nix/Bastardo/Frandsen. The grinders. Frandsen’s neck-beard alone is NHL-ready.
- Aumont/Lindblom/Kratz. That’s an average height of 6-foot-5 and an average weight of 252 pounds. Eat me, Milan Lucic. Aumont also has the added advantage of actually being Canadian.
Let’s fill out the defensive pairings while we’re at it.
- Halladay/Schierholtz. A nice combination of size and speed. This pairing gives me a little bit of the Matt Carle/Chris Pronger feeling.
- Ruiz/Galvis. The puck-moving pair. If Freddy Galvis were Scandinavian, we’d be talking about him right now the way we talk about Oliver Ekman-Larsson.
- Wigginton/Polanco. I tried to think of an NHL player as immobile as Ty Wigginton. I settled on Howie Morenz, because he’s been dead 75 years. Don’t give this pairing more than 5 or 6 minutes a night.
- Papelbon. Because he’s got that kind of vacant-yet-possibly-homicidal affect that worked so well for Patrick Roy.
- Worley. Because he sweats like he’s wearing 30 pounds of foam rubber and Kevlar anyway.
@uublog: “Sunday’s game in Atlanta was the worst gut punch loss since…?”
Blowing a six-run lead, including allowing five runs in the ninth, in September, to the Braves, with Chipper Jones delivering a walk-off home run as the final insult? That really does check all the boxes, doesn’t it?
That’s the win probability graph from Sunday. It’s hilarious. I want to get a cup of coffee with that graph, then let it tickle me until I have trouble breathing.
But when it happened, I looked up at the TV, chortled, and went back to mowing down the barbecue chicken wrap I was eating. It didn’t bother me on an emotional level, and I’m the kind of person who can go transcontinentally mad over a college football game that involves Vanderbilt. Here’s why.
- I was really really hungry and nothing was distracting me from that wrap.
- It happened rather quickly. It wasn’t within the realm of possibilities for me that the Phillies would lose that game until it was already over. A truly devastating loss is slow and painful, a death by a thousand small cuts. Frankly, it’s difficult for baseball to engender that kind of crushing dread. If anything, it’s more painful to lose by failing to come from behind, given numerous opportunities, than to lose by blowing a big lead. Like, say, Game 5 of last year’s NLDS. We were totally cool until about three batters from the end. It’s not the thing itself that’s most impactful, it’s the anticipation of the thing.
- Most importantly, the season’s been over since, like, mid-June. If Jones’ home run had knocked the Phillies out of the pennant race, that’d be one thing. But this was just an awful and meaningless loss in a season full of awful and meaningless losses.
But yeah, you know those people who say they’re going to miss Chipper Jones when he retires? I’m not one of them.
@DangerGuerrero: “Do you think Phillies fans would be nicer to Jimmy Rollins if he had a big mean dog that growled a lot?”
Yes, I do think Phillies fans would be nicer to Jimmy Rollins if the Phillies hadn’t gotten rid of Brett Myers.
Good Crash Bag. Let’s go eat.