Peace? Two? Reverse Peace?

Yup.

This is beyond baseball

On Wednesday evening, I took a nap, which I blame on the Filet-O-Fish value meal I had for dinner. When I sleep, I like to have my phone under my pillow, because one of the things that awakens me is checking my email and Twitter (#realtalk #dontjudgeme). I woke up after the Indians vs. Tigers game had ended, so first I saw tweets from @Official_Tigers about Armando Galarraga's outs: 12 up, 12 down; 15 up, 15 down; 21 up, 21 down; 24 up, 24 down. Then there was a fusillade of tweets from all kinds of sources about Galarraga's last out that should have been, and I knew I was missing something quite serious. I mean, first of all, of all the pitchers who might throw a perfect game, Galarraga?!?! (I should say this about Dallas Braden, but I will follow Jenni's lead and continue to overlook his perfect game on this blog.) I remember being more than annoyed that Galarraga was starting for the game I attended last year in Detroit. But I also remember that he didn't fail that night, that he got the win, that it was the best game I had ever been to, and that it rained the next day when ace Justin Verlander was starting, who I believe took a colossal loss. And second, the call was amazing, not so much because Galarraga didn't get a perfect game on the books that he was entitled to, but because it was followed by some fine human behavior in recent sports. No one says it better than Our National Poet, Ozzie Guillen:

We need to get the ugly flavor out of what happened last night, where everyone knew he was out, and then the umpire come out and said what he said. That part caused one of the ugliest parts of the game to be one of the best ones. I think what they did there was very classy, and I don't know why bad things happen to good people.

I think what Ozzie is trying to say here towards the end is that this is the kind of bullcookie that should happen to subhuman-but-unfortunately-an-MLB-umpire Joe West, who recently called Mark Buerhle on two balks in a game and ejected him for "throwing," or dropping, his glove. Ozzie was fined $7000 for talking trash about West that day when getting ejected, but I think Ozzie is more than happy to pay every penny of the fine. Anyway, this is the kind of behavior I'm more or less accustomed to in baseball.

Later that night, I watched a replay of the call on my At Bat app. I still have a hard time looking at those replays. The look on Miguel Cabrera's face with his hands and mitt over his head breaks my heart, because the corners of his lips are turned up, as if to say that the call is so crazy that it's funny, it must be a joke, hahaha, perfect game, Venezuela's awesome, hahaha. But Ozzie is right, it all turned into great sports feelings. The next day's events were worth a script for a movie that Steven Spielberg wishes he could executive produce: Joyce opted to umpire despite being offered the day off; Tigers manager Jim Leyland sent Galarraga to give Joyce the lineup card; Joyce cried; Galarraga got a congratulatory Corvette; Joyce called Rick Porcello's first pitch a strike. This all makes me feel better*. The call doesn't need to be reversed, by Bud Selig or political figures, because we all know that the game was perfect. Now, this is the time to wrap up my post with a line about the perfection of Galarraga and Joyce's behavior and how though there is no place for that kind of achievement in baseball's official records, there is in our hearts. But I will leave that kind of eighth grade honor roll writing to Jeff Passan. I just hope that from all of this, the image of Galarraga "grinning and patting" the roof of his new Corvette while Miggy "excitedly peers inside" is imprinted in your mind for the rest of your life as it is for me**.

*What did not make me feel better was Bud Selig's decision to not reverse the call, not because I think it should be reversed, but because as I read his statement, I was forced to recall Selig's long, unattractive horse face. 

**Thank you to TBOB reader Andrew who pointed out in the previous post that the New York Times wouldn't stop writing about this event. I read about this scene from this article.

Miggy Miggy Miggy

On Friday, the White Sox played the Tigers in Detroit. The White Sox won behind Jake Peavy, 8-0. Nice investment. Anyway, later that evening, reports are saying that Tigers first baseman Miguel Cabrera went out "partying" with the White Sox. He then seems to have gone home smashed early in the morning. His wife called the police, who arrived at Miggy's home for a "family disturbance." Miggy went downtown, where Tigers GM Dave Dombrowski later picked him up. The Free Press says that since both Miggy and his wife were "aggressors," he was released. I knew that the only person who would attack a 6'4", 240lb professional athlete would be his wife. What idiot in the Detroit area would and could attack Miggy at the facial range!? *Screams like Carleton Banks*

I have to say, I'm somewhat surprised at the fact that all of this doesn't bother me so much. I think the scars will go away, thank goodness, but I tend to think that what Miggy does in his own Birmingham home is his business, and what we know of his business comes from vague police reports and speculations. If the drama at home affects his at-bats, and he, for instance, goes 0-7 in the next two games against the White Sox, that's disappointing. But it's not disappointing because he may have hit his wife or his wife clearly cut him up real good and his soul may be in pain, it's disappointing because it's for sure an OH-FER-SEVEN when the Tigers needed to win both of those games to clinch the AL Central. Now they're going to waste a perfectly good outing from Ricky P (Rick Porcello) against the Twinkies tomorrow.

I'll get back to the Twins in a minute. I want to know which White Sox players count as his "buddies." It must be the older folks, even Ozzie? And maybe Gordon Beckham got to come out because he's a monster-in-training at third, just as Miggy once was. I'm mad that I was not invited to party with the White Sox and Miguel Cabrera in Detroit. That's messed up that I wasn't present. I was just sleeving and collating baseball cards, watching a very mediocre Martin Lawrence stand-up movie with Mordecai and Joe! Coulda called us up! If the party didn't end until the wee hours of the morning, we would've made it to Detroit in time! I know my way around (sort of)!

But the more I think about how things turned out, the more suspicious I become. Here comes my speculation. The Twins are evil. Look at these faces.

Look at his smirk; Kubel is pure evil. Cuddyer looks like a rosy-cheeked, chipper dude, but look at those glassy eyes. Oh hell no. And Ron Gardenhire? He's an agent of the devil, the mastermind behind all of this. He is the Darth Vader of baseball. He probably eats babies for breakfast. OK, maybe I'm pushing this a little too far.

Obviously, someone fixed the nature of things to ensure that Miggy's White Sox "buddies" would go out with him the night after the first game and the night before the last two all-important games. Having somehow triumphed over The Zack Greinke, the Twins knew they were merely stanky-ass-breaths away from a chance at the AL Central. It's the Royals. THIS WAS FIXED, I KNOW IT!!! THE TWINKIES MUST BE STOPPED!!! Everyone, make some noise for the handsome rookie Ricky P (Rick Porcello) on Tuesday!!! GO TIGERS, EVEN IF THEY MAKE IT PAST THE EVIL TWINS AND GET OBLITERATED IN THE POSTSEASON!

Ejected!

The White Sox played the Indians early today, around 11:00AM CST. That means batting practice and warming up takes place well before 11:00AM, which sounds really early for a baseball game. Perhaps the White Sox players are a little jetlagged, even if only by one hour and despite having been in Cleveland for at least a day already. That might explain why some people got crabby and then...ejected!

"WHAT GAME ARE YOU WATCHIN'?"

JERMAINE DYE EMOTES!

Even when JD is putting his life into catching a ball out in the right field, he always looks so nonchalant, emotion-less, and subsequently makes everything seem so effortless. He got ejected today for arguing a called strike. I'm not sure if he was already ejected at the time this photo was taken, or if the ejection occurred after this photo was taken, because I read he flipped his helmet and bat "in disgust" and the helmet hit the umpire or something. The only other time I've seen him emote, at least as of late, was when he got hit by a pitch last week by some piece of shit Texas Ranger pitcher.

JD looks like he's in some horrible pain. This is exactly why Bobby Jenks threw a butt-pitch at Ian Kinsler in the same series but in a later game. Jenks then admitted to the "message" pitch after the game, and then got fined for a pathetic $750. Why bother? Does Ian Kinsler need a counseling session? A lot of people say Bobby should have kept his mouth closed even if everyone knew it was a purpose pitch, but I don't see any reason to censor him. There are numbers to prove his point. White Sox pitchers don't hit people, but CQ gets hit pretty much every game, and there is no justification for hitting Paulie or JD. Paulie has a growing bald spot, and JD is a gentleman, even with the mysterious scar. Jenks should pay the MLB in pennies.

Cuban Missile Report

I went to my first baseball game of the season tonight, Tigers vs. White Sox. Pre-season, I was looking forward to observing Alexei and reporting back here on his appearance and performance. But Alexei has had a rough start, and Ozzie had enough yesterday, explaining that Jayson Nix would start in place of Alexei. So I thought I would be unable to report here, but luckily, I am one of those weirdos who like to watch the national anthem at sporting events. Today was Greek Heritage day at U.S. Cellular Field, so there was a middle aged Greek man who sang "The Star Spangled Banner" pretty well. I started taking pictures of the most visible Sox and Tigers players who held their hats to their chest and faced the flags. When I noticed Carlos Quentin by the dugout, I saw a thin young man without a number on his back.

CUBAN MISSILE CRISIS SIGHTING! Especially next to Carlos, Alexei looks so small, like a bat boy.

THEN HE TURNED AND SHOWED HIS FACE! It's a little blurry, sorry. I'm pretty sure I started freaking out, trying to get a decent picture of his face, but I was in the upper deck and my zoom was at it's max. I think everyone's right--he looks like a lizardly creature, a chipmunk, an alien. There is something definitely endearing about Alexei overall though--his narrowness, his strange face, his speed, the internal struggles that must be taking place while he fails at bat and gets benched by many fantasy owners (me) and Ozzie.

One more photo:

I like that the cover of the White Sox program is of Alexei's "almost Christ-like" picture, as Jenni put it. I'm not sure why it says "MISSION IMPOSSIBLE" on the cover (I need to actually look through the program), but I really hope it's not some sort of mantra for the '09 season for the White Sox or for Alexei. Will he play tomorrow? I'm going to tomorrow's game as well, for the "Facebook Friday" promotion (I recommend being a fan or friend of your favorite local baseball team). I'll be at field level, so maybe I'll get a better close-up of his face during at least the national anthem!

Ozzie... the collest fucking guy in baseball

I am gonna talk about the coolest guy in baseball… That’s right I am talking about Oswaldo José Guillén Barrios AKA Ozzie Guillén.

Sure I am jaded, The Chicago White Sox run in my blood. I am a Sox fan by lineage and geography. I was born in South Shore to father who grew up in South Shore; I had little choice in the matter of which team to root for. I always knew that my allegiance was with the right Chicago team but after 2005 I could officially tell all Cubs fans to SUCK IT!

But I digress… I am not sure of this fact but I believe that the first baseball game I attended was in 1985. I would have been three years old and I fell asleep at the game. This would have been Ozzie Guillén’s rookie season playing with the Sox.

That year he won the AL Rookie of the Year award. This was the beginning of my love for the man that my sister and I lovingly referred to as Fozzie Guillén.

As a young buck I was drawn to Ozzie because of his passion and apparent love for the game. This dude had so much fun out there as a player and continues this love as a manager. He is a jokester with a hot head. You never wonder what the guy is thinking because he will tell you. 1990 marked the last season that the Sox played at Comiskey Park and also the year that Ozzie won the Golden Glove Award. Each year Oak Park Little League would make a pilgrimage to Comiskey where we would get to parade around the field in our uniforms before the game. That year the Sox played the other Sox… I remember giving Wade Boggs a high five as I walked around the field… Sure he was on the Red Sox but I was 9 so fuck off. I also remember kids on my team taking dirt from the infield and stuffing it into their pockets as a memento from Old Comiskey. I wish I would have done the same because I can’t help but feel like I could slang that shit to some dumb ass on Ebay. As a player and a manager Ozzie is intense! Wikapedia states, “As a player, he was regarded for his passion, speed, hustle, intensity and defensive abilities and his ebullient love for the game…” I don’t know what ebullient means but I feel like this statement is spot on none the less. In 1997 Ozzie’s time as a player with the White Sox was through and I could have cared less. By then I was too concerned with skateboarding, growing my hair long enough to have an under shave and playing bass for awesome grunge bands to give a shit. When I started caring about baseball again three years later Ozzie had been traded and was finishing out his final season as a player for the Tampa Bay Devil Rays.

Fast forward to 2004 when Guillén signed on as Manager for the Sox… I, along with countless other Chicagoan’s, rejoiced. By the end of the 2005 he had led the South Side to their first World Series Championship since 1917. Later that year he was voted the 2005 AL Manager of the Year by the Baseball Writers Association of America, and in 2006 coached the AL in the All-star Game. You are the fucking man Ozzie!

All of this def makes Ozzie a world caliber ball player and manager but honestly you can keep all that. The reason that I love the guy is that he speaks his mind no matter who he offends. There are countless stories. There was the whole feud with Magglio Ordóñez where Ozzie said, “He fucked with the wrong guy, and he knows that, too. He knows for a fact that he fucked with the wrong people.” I honestly don’t even remember what they were fighting about but that is some gangsta shit to say right there. There has been countless times where, as a manager, Ozzie has ordered his pitchers to intentionally hit a batter. This is just some old school baseball shit right here. You can’t let the other team push you around. Ozzie is a fucking G! Or how about a comment he made about Carlos Lee. Lee failed to slide hard enough on a play at second, Ozzie’s reaction? "We had a guy go into 2nd base as if his wife was turning a double play." Fucking hilarious! Lee was traded at the end of the season.

There are also instances where pitchers have fucked up and Ozzie leaves them in to teach them a lesson. It is his way of gaining control over players. If they don’t pitch the game the way he wants he will leave them in when they get into trouble and let their ERA go to shit. He is a man of principle. But my favorite Ozzie tirade would have to be the incident involving then Chicago Sun Times columnist Jay Mariotti. Mariotti wrote many articles criticizing Ozzie, in June of 2006 the feud came to a head with Ozzie publically calling Mariotti a fucking piece of shit and a fag. Now this event solidified Ozzie’s status in the Hip-Hop community because he took a page out of rappers Lil’ Wayne and Cammron’s books by claiming no homo.

In the end Guillén is the fucking man! He is the kind of guy I would never want to coach my kids little league team, but he is the right man for pro ball. After all if you can’t get irate and throw temper tantrums in the majors, where can you do it? Sure it’s only a game, but it is also their job. Pro players and managers have a right to get upset when things are not going well… IT’S THEIR FUCKING JOB! You would be upset too if the bike messenger company you work for was not holding their end of the bargain, or if your boss at the IT company was fucking up. Ozzie is the kind of guy I would love to get drunk with, and you know he likes to get drunk. He was one of the only managers who defended player’s rights to have beer in the clubhouse. Aside from the beer and blow up dolls that he is known to keep in the club house Ozzie is the coolest guy in baseball. I stand behind every decision he has ever made. And I totally agree with you Ozzie… Jay Mariotty is a fag (no homo).

- Noah Skillz