Thoughts from the Dugout: A ‘Game of Thrones’ Edition

Derek Jeter 2

You know nothing, Derek Jeter.

We’re at the midway point. Chaos rules in all parts of the land. Teams jockey for positions, clashing with regularity. The balance of power sways between the mighty, whilst the dispossessed plot their next moves. Rumbles are heard of a mighty battle yet to come, as aging legends rise against the hungry youths of the world. Meanwhile, an aged man sits atop his perch, overseeing all with a hand that smites as often as it rewards.

Welcome to Major League Baseball.

I’ve been open here and elsewhere about recently re-reading the entire Song of Ice and Fire book series as my summer project. Consequently, I’m feeling a little Game of Thrones-centric these days. At the same time, the baseball season has passed its midway point, All-Stars have been selected, and we know… well, relatively little at this point beyond the facts that: the A’s are good, the Cubs are bad, Clayton Kershaw is the best pitcher on the planet, and Mike Trout might be from another world.

Where are my tigers?

Where are my tigers?

Usually, I disdain power rankings. The chance to do one with a Game of Thrones theme, however, struck me as all too much fun. What follows is simple: I pair each team with a corresponding character from the book/TV series, based on said team’s performance to date, their expectations going into the season, and what their future looks like. Any disagreements can be argued out in the comments section.

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Thoughts from the Dugout: People, Not Mascots

I originally planned to write about Clayton Kershaw, the modern Age of the Pitcher, and its inevitable downfall this week. I’ve been asked (several) questions about my thoughts on the Tommy John epidemic that seems to have overtaken baseball this year, and had a semi-coherent 1500-word column in mind.

That can wait a little bit.

Today, news broke that a Native American group was planning to file a federal lawsuit for $9 billion against the Cleveland Indians with regards to their name and their mascot, Chief Wahoo. The suit will be asking for the stated sum based upon “a hundred years of disparity, racism, exploitation and profiteering.” Robert Roche, a Chiricahua Apache and director of the American Indian Education Center, further stated that “it’s [the name/mascot] been offensive since day one. We are not mascots. My children are not mascots. We are people.”

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Only Cheating If You Get Caught: Thoughts From the Dugout

The baseball season is well underway. The Milwaukee Brewers are in 1st Place (HOLY JEEBUS, YOU GUYS), Albert Pujols is hitting like Albert Pujols again, Billy Hamilton is slowly learning the art of hitting (slowly…), and Wrigley Field has turned 100 years old. While it’s still early, we’ve got nearly a month of great games under our belts, without a care in the world.

michael pineda pine tar

Ah.

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The Best of Friends: Thoughts from the Dugout

fight of their lives

Spring training is rolling right along. Players all across the major leagues are fighting for roster spots, Ryan Braun apparently can’t not hit the ball (hmm, suspicious…maybe…PED’S?!?!?! *cue screeching violins*), and yours truly is equally focusing his attention between baseball, his own outside projects, the final month ever of How I Met Your Mother, and trying to decide which NBA team he should root for. (I mean, Stephen Curry is awesome, so Golden State? Or the Bulls, even though they’re perpetually doomed?)

What this means is that there’s not terribly much for yours truly to write about. Fortunately, I have made promises, promises that I intend to keep. Thus, a book review.

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A Tale of Three Rosters: Thoughts from the Dugout

Philadelphia Phillies v Atlanta Braves

Good afternoon.

As the Addison Recorder’s resident baseball columnist/editor/self-appointed scribe, I’m making a resolution this year to bring you the weekly baseball column I’ve always wanted to write. I’ll continue to write about movies, theatre, and whatever other events cross my path, but after joining the IWBAA, I feel it’s my personal duty to live up to the standards that membership in such an organization calls for. (I.E., more baseball writing) Hence, consider this my first column from the Dugout across from Wrigley Field (otherwise known as Bag End). It is my hope to be the closest baseball writer of residence next to the greatest ballpark in America (and possibly any ballpark, unless someone can tell me that they live closer to a stadium than I do. The challenge is out!).

Having said that, I am aware that Spring Training has just begun. Which is awesome, but far from a wealth of immediate topics to write about.

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Breaking Down the Baseball Hall of Fame 2013 Ballot Part 2: The New Blood

A good portion of my reasoning for breaking down the Hall of Fame ballot this year (beyond providing reasonable analysis for all twenty of our devoted Recorder readers) is strongly driven by nostalgia. Ballots from the past years have slowly started featuring the players that I identified with growing up (Barry Larkin! Barry Larkin! Barry Larkin!), and when I look over the names appearing on this ballot for the first time, the realization strikes me that I was up in arms about every single one of the players for one reason or another. Whether it was making cracks about Julio Franco’s age while he was still producing at a reasonable clip for the Braves or wondering exactly how many Flintstone’s Vitamins I would have needed to take to look like Sammy Sosa (Answer: All of them, only replace chewable vitamins with testosterone pills shaped like Dino the Dinosaur.), these are the players of my youth, and a sign that we are all sure as shootin’ getting older. Call it the Boys of Summer Effect.

Which is why the fact that these are the ballots the Steroid Era is mildly upsetting to me.

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The Tragedy of Narrative: World Series 2012 Game Four Recap; PLUS 2012 MLB Awards Wrap-Up

As October turns into November, so yet another baseball season draws to an unspectacular conclusion. (What makes it unspectacular? Well, this particular World Series does, as well as anything that involves the Yankees winning. But that’s besides the point.) Now we turn to the inevitable stream of awards and hardware handed out to assuage the fragile egos of many a ballplayer, as well as to celebrate what went right for so many teams and what went wrong for all but one of them.

When last we left the World Series recap, the Giants had just gone up 3 games to zip-zada-zero on the Tigers, with imminent demise highly foreseeable for the boys from Detroit. Once again, I was at work during the majority (i.e. all) of Game Four, yet with the game featured on the big screen televisions in the bar at which I work. I did manage to see Miguel Cabrera’s home run that gave the Tigers their first (First!) lead of the Series, followed by raucous celebration from the Detroit fans.

And then the channel was switched over to showcase some football game featuring the New Orleans Downtrodden and the Surgically Prepared Monster that is FrankenManning.

Sigh. So much for prescient analysis.

However…

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A Certain Certainty of Fate: World Series 2012 Game Three Recap

The World Series returned to Detroit for the first time since 2006 (back in the days when The Office and How I Met Your Mother weren’t hollow shells of themselves, and before we knew that Daniel Day-Lewis would, in fact, drink your milkshake) not with a bang, but a whimper. And what a whimper it was. Unfortunately, owing to commitments elsewhere (Recorder Halloween Party 2012?), I was unable to observe and comment upon the actual nature and intrinsic shape of the game. Things would have been different if one of the members of the staff were not only historically adverse to the sport of baseball, but also hosting the party. I’m sure there’s a provision about this in Robert’s Rules, and thus it went unchallenged. Consequently, I only witnessed brief snippets of the game last night.

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