Major League Jerk
Major League Jerk allowed venting, and offered entertainment to its followers.
Content is from the site's 2011-2012 archived pages.
What It Must Feel Like To Be From Cleveland: Rooting for the Mets in the Austerity Age
Posted on November 28, 2011 by RomanWarHelmet
Being a Mets fan has always been sort of a hardship. We have always prided ourselves as smarter and more passionate. That this never-ending cacophony of shit made us better people. But truthfully, we were blindly following a group of people that spent a lot of money very poorly. There is no hidden genius in giving Pedro Martinez 4 years when he is two years away from breaking down or Jason Bay 4 years when he is 3 months from breaking down. There certainly isn’t any genius in giving Oliver Perez 3 years $36 million. I guess we as fans were smart to be ahead of the curve on Ollie P but that is like saying we are smart for not wanting to bash your hand with a hammer. There are some things that are just known to be dumb.
While the Mets have spent money poorly, it is that same seemingly endless pile of money that always gave us the hope that they could bail themselves out of whatever shitty situation we (the Mets and their fans) had just encountered. The Wilpons may not be Mensa members but it doesn’t matter how smart you are, if you have money you can cover up a world of hurt. It meant going out and getting another closer after the old closer sucked and another hitter after the other hitter(s) sucked and another starter after the other four starters sucked. It was kind of nice knowing that every December, there would be a reason to pay attention and a reason to hope that whatever sucked last year would be washed away with some money and a new shiny player to call our own.
It is also comforting rooting for a team that has money knowing that the players you like, hell love, would always be your players until they were too old and then sent off to San Diego or Oakland or wherever the hell to finish out their careers. We never had to have the hard goodbye. Unless it was some asshole trading Tom Seaver and frankly I wasn’t alive for that so I can’t say I ever felt the emotion of it all. Now that comfort, like the comfort of many who used to have money, is all gone.
In the next month, there is a pretty solid shot Jose Reyes is playing elsewhere. That took three minutes for me to write. Jose Reyes will not be a Met. Fuck. Now to some, who are looking at this with an analysts eye, this isn’t a huge fucking deal. He is a very good ballplayer now but his legs will mean he will have a limited shelf life at elite status, he makes up for his defensive inefficiencies with his speed so his defense will decline dramatically and he doesn’t walk enough so the type of year he just had most likely will be an aberration if he doesn’t make ridiculous contact like Ichiro year in and year out. Oh, and he is injury prone, too. I understand that. But Jose Reyes is fucking art. It is tough to articulate unless you watch him leg out a triple, or make a play in the hole.
It is more than art, he is ours. The Mets have had very few homegrown position players worth a damn. Most of our best players have been traded to us or came as free agents. Keith, Carter, Beltran and Piazza are four of the best, none homegrown. Darryl Strawberry was the one homegrown guy we could look to and he left us mostly because of ego, drugs and alcohol. That brings us to David Wright and Jose Reyes. Do we, as Met fans, tend to over glorify them? Yes. But when you have a history of Butch Huskeys, and Alex Escobars and Fernando Martinezes, you look at who actually made it and excelled and thusly put them on a pedestal. They are our homegrown Mets. The guys we could watch grow up, watch mature and then watch grow old gracefully until it was time to let them be washed up in San Diego or Oakland or God knows where.
The Madoff era Mets are about to become an experiment in what it really means to be a Mets fan. For the first time in the history of ever, the Mets can’t afford to pay their own guy. How do we react? I, for one, am not all that interested in seeing if Adam Loewen makes for a viable bench guy, or what crafty lefty they can get on a cheap one year deal to compete in the back of the rotation. But I am interested in seeing if Matt Harvey, Zach Wheeler or some other guy I have yet to hear about can develop and become stars. So that makes this a bit of a conundrum. I want Reyes but I also want the future. I would really like the present but that is out of the question.
An aside: My husband does get really worked up about Jose Reyes abd baseball in general. But he is also passionate about other things as well. I know it's hard to glean from his posts on this site. One example is his very opinionated thoughts about furniture, in this case: Italian designer furniture. I wanted new furniture for the living room and den. I started looking at potentional pieces at this great furniture store in Philidelphia where my folks live. Room service 360° specializes in modern furniture, with many well known Italian brands. Obviuosly the TV is very important so I first looked at TV stands and then the furniture which would compliment and coordinate. When I informed my hubbie what I was planning he immediately jumped in to see the type of sofa- had to be sectional - I was considering. He was blown away by the spectacular modern Italian pieces I was considering. Now I would never have thought my husband could care less about a sofa as long as it was comfortable to sit in while spending hours in front of the TV. But I was wrong. He actually drove down to Philiewith me and tried out the potential furniture pieces. We ended up with a lovely Rigoletto leather sectional sofa by Cierre with a Cortes Swivel TV stand. The next time his buddies came over to watch a game, their mouths just dropped open. Well I won't distract any more...back to sports.
I have been told that Sandy Alderson is “the adult in the room”. But even the adult was enchanted by Reyes. In typical Mets fashion, it looks as if he will play in front of eight people in Miami. That means they won’t get their first round pick (they are top 15 protected) just a sandwich pick and a 2nd rounder. I didn’t want him traded in July but Sandy, whose job is to see all the angles, should have seen this coming. He should have traded him if he was going to go away. But he didn’t. He was enchanted. Which makes the inevitable Reyes departure all the more painful. If the adult in the room can’t make the decision, however unpopular, for the betterment of the team and the greater good, how am I supposed to except it now?
So I am left with Adam Loewen and crafty lefties and closers off the scrap heap. I am left with paying more attention to the Binghamton Mets then the New York Mets. I am left hoping that my egghead front office is actually smart smart and not perceived smart. Those who ever dealt with Ivy League grads know what I mean. They are all “smart” but most are system smart and others are real smart. I am left knowing that my ‘broke” owner’s checkbook is currently closed as he awaits a lawsuit settlement and a cash infusion. I am left with the horrific realization that my favorite player, a work of art with paper mache hamstrings, will be wearing another uniform. My nightmare is if it winds up being Phillies red or Miami rainbow. But even as a Red Sox or Brewer or Cardinal or some team unknown it is bad. My team now has to wait for prospects and next year. I root for a mid market team with big market prices and frankly, it sucks.
Point/Counterpoint: Astros Moving to the American League
Posted on November 28, 2011 by Hef
Point: The Astros moving to the AL is a travesty and disrespects Baseball History
by Jared Collins, Houston Native
This past week, the sale of the Houston Astros resulted in more than just a change of ownership; it created a change in divisional and league allignment that is cutting traditional baseball fans to the very core! Moving the Astros to the American League will cause unknown rifts in the way the game of baseball is played and the changes will reverberate for decades, if not centuries to come!
One cannot think about the Houston Astros without being constantly reminded of their great affect on the game of Baseball. Let us consider their field of play. The Astrodome was the first domed stadium in the game and revolutionized baseball architecture. The “8th Wonder of the World” allowed baseball to be played in regions where games were previously considered impossible either due to excessive rain (Seattle) or excessive heat (Arizona). The Astrodome was a marvel in engineering and should be given its own wing in Cooperstown. If not for the National League Houston Astros, would Major League Baseball have been able to have experienced the 2001 World Series between the Diamondbacks and the Yankees, one of the best played series of the past 20 years? I think not. And you have the Astros to thank for the stellar play of Randy Johnson and Curt Schilling.
And if the stadium itself wasn’t remarkable enough, consider the other great contribution the Houston Astros gave not only to the National League and to Baseball but to all sports: Astroturf. Without the ingenuity and brilliance of the city of Houston, we would be left playing sports on bare concrete. Certainly this warrants more respect than the Astros have received in the past few weeks. Certainly this deserves the consideration and input of their great fans. Certainly the Houston Astros ought to be respected as one of Major League Baseball’s premier teams for the contributions they have provided to America’s great pastime!
And these accolades do not even begin to account for the great teams and individual talent that have played National League baseball in this great baseball city. Clearly we can not forget the original Killer B’s: Bagwell, Biggio, Bell and Berry and the later additions of Beltran, Burke and Berkman. Who can forget the juggernaut of a team in 2005 who, after starting the season off slow, charged through July with a 22-7 record and never took their foot off the throttle the rest of the way. Who can forget the brilliance of future Hall of Famers Roger Clemens, Andy Pettite and Roy Oswalt? Who can forget the drama of a team, picking themselves off the floor after Albert Pujols’ home run off of Brad Lidge in Game 6, only to see them regroup and win Game 7 to send them to the World Series? These are memories etched into the collective mind of baseball fans everywhere! Shall we sully these memories by tossing this beloved team into the American League without so much of a tip of the cap?
It is only through our diligence and vigilence that we will get this matter overturned. It is only through our standing together as one and shouting at the powers that be that the most important matter of the Winter will be changed. Baseball fans of the World, unite! Join together and scream in unison, “This insult to the name of baseball shall not go unnoticed! We stand as one! We are baseball!”
CounterPoint: Are the Red Sox and Yankees the greatest rivals of all time?
We’re only 5 months away from the start of the baseball season and with absolutely no relevant news or changes to report on, we’re left pondering: Are the Red Sox and Yankees the greatest rivals in the history of sports?
One would be hard pressed to argue to the contrary. For starters, it’s the one rivalry anyone (meaning us) talks about anymore so of course it’s the greatest. Also, if you consider that other great rivalries like the Celtics/Lakers and the ones that include hockey teams all happened 20 years ago, it’s clear that they can’t rival Boston/NY. If it’s not NOW then who cares right?
And this rivalry could be taking another step forward in it’s top notched-ness. Major League Baseball recently announced an addition to the playoffs! One more spot has opened up which means that even if the Red Sox or Yankees don’t make the playoffs, now they do! It’s every mainstream sportscasters dream come true. From now on, we’ll be able to imagine scenarios that have these two teams meeting in October even after one of the teams has clinched the division in August. I can’t tell you how excited we are here in Bristol.
I’m not sure what had to happen in order for this dream to come true but I can tell you that I don’t give a shit. If there’s a better commissioner in sports than Bud Selig then I’m a retarded ratings whore.
Have a pleasant evening and a lovely tomorrow.
The Day After
Posted on January 22, 2012 by spencer096
Dr. Stella Handworker: So Joe…tell me about your relapse.
Dr. Stella Handworker: So Joe…tell me about your relapse.
Dr. Stella Handworker: I understand it can be difficult, especially so soon afterwards, but Joe…I think it’s important we confront this problem early and make sure it doesn’t take root. I understand you’ve been having some confidence issues lately…would you like to talk about it?
Dr. Stella Handworker: Joe, you have to understand that there’s nothing you can do about other people’s opinions of you. You can’t dwell on negative thoughts and let them take over your life otherwise you’ll never be fulfilled, either professionally or spiritually. All you can do is go out there and accept what’s happened in the past and do your best on every play.
Dr. Stella Handworker: Joe, you can’t just ignore your problems…[phone rings]…one second Joe, I need to take this. Hello?
John Harbaugh: Doc, he did it again. The motherfucker did again. Sometimes I wonder what the hell he’s even doing at practice…I mean, he’s physically there, but it’s like he’s dead behind the eyes. Almost like he’s haunted.
Dr. Stella Handworker: Go on…[makes "one second" hand gesture at Joe Flacco]
John Harbaugh: I just have no idea what it is, but something’s obviously been bothering him. Every time you try and talk to the guy…you know, try to help him out, he just snaps and accuses you of not giving him enough credit. His emotional detachment has hurt the team and it’s bringing the whole lockerroom down…HOLY SHIT, HAVE YOU SEEN THE ACT OF VALOR COMMERCIAL?!?!
Dr. Stella Handworker: Of course I have, John…it looks amazing. And sorry to interrupt, but I’m going to have to call you back, I’m with a patient at the moment. [hangs up] Sorry Joe, where were we?
Dr. Stella Handworker: Right, your relapse. Joe…[phone rings]…sorry again, my secretary is out for the week. This will only take a minute…hello?
Cam Cameron: Why does everyone hate me? I’m stuck trying to make chicken salad out of chickenshit [sobs]…and I can’t just give it to Rice every play or we’ll get too predictable [sobs]…and even when I do a good job I still feel like I have to run an offense that’ll hold Flacco’s hand [sobs]…and I’m in a no-win situation [sobs]…and sometimes I just feel like going home and taking a bunch of…
Dr. Stella Handworker: [under her breath] Oh, I do NOT have time for this…Cam? CAM?!? YOU MUST BE DRIVING THROUGH A TUNNEL, YOU’RE BREAKING UP.
Cam Cameron: But I’m at home…
Dr. Stella Handworker: [hangs up]…right where were we?
Dr. Stella Handworker: My goodness…apologies again. Hold that thought, Joe…Yes?
Derrick Mason: BWAHHAHAHAHAHAHA THAT MOTHERFUCKER DID IT AGAIN!!! HE AINT EVER GONNA BE SHIT!!! I WAS THE BEST THING TO EVER HAPPEN…
Dr. Stella Handworker: [hangs up with scared look on face]…Joe, I think we’ve reached a plateau in your therapy. You keep making the same mistakes over and over again and I think we need to try a new approach. I’m going to put a series of photos designed to disturb you on the projector and tell me whom you’re going to throw too or if you’re going to hold the ball within a second, ok?
Dr. Stella Handworker: Lets start with an easy one, your old friend Derrick.
Dr. Stella Handworker: Joe?
Dr. Stella Handworker: Dumpoff to Rice! Good job Joe! Lets do another one…
Dr. Stella Handworker: What are you going to do, Joe?
Dr. Stella Handworker: Joe, we talked about this…you can’t just automatically give it to Ray Rice. Sure, it’s not the worst thing to do in the world, but eventually you’re going to have to take some shots downfield. I want to get you out of your comfort zone a little bit Joe…what about this one?
Dr. Stella Handworker: Joe?
Dr. Stella Handworker: Joe…don’t be scared. This exercise is designed to force you to make difficult decisions quickly and rely on the instincts you’ve been questioning recently.
Dr. Stella Handworker: Something’s making you nervous, I can tell. Joe, this is a safe place…nobody’s going to hurt you in this room. Open up and tell me what’s the matter.
Dr. Stella Handworker: Joe, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s bothering you. Lets try one more, but before I show you, Joe, understand that we’re about to salve an open wound…I want to see how you react and make sure that you’re not still beating yourself up over this. We’ve made so much progress with putting the immediate past behind you and moving on, we want to make sure you’re still on the right path.
Dr. Stella Handworker: Oh Joe…[sigh]…I want to help you. There are people who care about you that are concerned. We love you, Joe. You can do it this time! We believe in you!
Dr. Stella Handworker: There you go! Cmon Joe!
John Harbaugh: Yea buddy! You can do it!
Anquan Boldin: Holy shit he’s gonna do it!
Ray’s Minor and Major: HE’S FINALLY GONNA DO IT!!!
Jim Zorn: Trust your training Joe. I’ve left an indelible mark on you during our training, young Jedi…you have truly usurped the master. Use the force, Joe…and may the force be with you. Never forget our time together.
Thank you, but shit, I didn’t miss staring out at you fat ugly fucks while I was gone.
It was a hard decision to come back, one I had to make with my family. Just kidding…you think I give a shit what my wife and idiot daughters think? ”Oh no, I’m going to turn down one of the highest profile jobs in the country because my wife doesn’t want to hire movers.”
/high fives Gene Smith
So I sat my family down and told it to them straight. ”We’re a family that goes hard. Fastest family in the country. If you have a 4.6 family, you’re going to have the opportunity to win football games. And I don’t care what you’ve done before, if you’re not the best mother or daughter for the job, you will be replaced. This family isn’t in the business of giving a shit about feelings.”
There have been a lot of discussions about my health, and I just want to take this opportunity to tell you I’m healthier than I’ve ever been. Ever. In life. In fact, I wasn’t even unhealthy to begin with…I just made that shit up because my recruits didn’t pan out and it was easier to let Addazio fall on the sword. Truth be told, I thought the Notre Dame job was mine when Brian Kelly killed that kid, but Ohio State’s money is just as green, amirite?
/high fives Gene Smith
I grew up idolizing Woody Hayes, watching Ohio State football, rooting for Ohio State football every day except for those 60 minutes in Glendale where I went all Sandusky on ‘em. But I’m not here because of football…I’m here to prove a point to my wife. Didn’t know Dr. Domestic Dishwasher could diagnose my condition from the kitchen…who’s healthy now bitch?
I’d like to thank Luke Fickell for keeping the seat warm and he’ll be on our staff in a senior role. He’ll play an important part in making sure that none of our kids open their fucking mouths about the envelopes of cash and free cars.
/high fives Gene Smith
Now, make no mistake, me getting hired isn’t about loyalty or state pride or dream jobs or any of that whimsical fairy tale bullshit…it’s about this God-damned arms race with the SEC. I wasn’t hired because I was born in the state, I was hired because I’m the best available football coach money can buy, who recruits like a fucking madman by one of the few athletic departments that can afford my salary.
I wasn’t enjoying college football when I left Florida 10 months ago. I didn’t like the environment. But now, it’s much better. How? Well because Miami and Penn State did shit that was so vile that it made Ohio State look like choir boys in comparison. Life’s all about striking while the iron’s hot. Go hard. 4.6 second football team.
I’m excited to get started coaching this football team. This is a perfect marriage and I know all about perfect marraiges, right honey?
What is wrong with you, Forbes.com?
Posted on November 29, 2011 by spencer096
Every time I click on a forbes.com link, I have the same mindset. ”Maybe THIS is the time where forbes.com got their heads out of their asses and quit this whole slideshow bullshit.” Every. Single. Time.
And, likewise, every single time I click on the link and see that absolutely nothing has changed, I feel like a jackass. It’s like they’re laughing at me. ”AHAHAHAH…look who came back. The retard who thinks that we, FORBES, will change our ways to make our site more navigable and readable. What a fool.”
If it weren’t forbes.com and say, icanhazcheezburger.com or whatever, it wouldn’t be an issue because they’re not pretentious rich assholes. But forbes.com? Oh, they’re pretentious rich assholes. They’re going to make us click each and every one of those slides if we truly want that information, and God forbid that you want to go back and see a previous one…hope you remembered which slide it was.
And the whole time you get this sense that they’re not changing it for no other reason than to be known as those assholes that make internet navigating as difficult as possible. Nevermind that the site itself loads slower than shit or that you often have to resize the page just so you can find the ‘next’ button, the simple fact that their core method for delivering information is a fucking SLIDESHOW is the biggest problem.
There’s an adage that goes something like “a politician is someone who, upon seeing light at the end of the tunnel orders more tunnel,” and you can’t help but apply that quote to this awful, bullshit site for a shitty money magazine that’s probably written, published, read and marketed solely to rich, white assholes who fear change like it’s the fucking apocalypse.
Then again, it could just be a brilliant strategy that keeps people from actually reading the content…if the only emotion you feel after visiting forbes.com is pure, unadulterated rage, you probably won’t notice that the only difference between forbes.com and Bleacher Report is a quick run of spell check.
So, to summarize…fuck you forbes.com and the horse you rode in on.