Category Archives: Baseball

Pictures of Zack Greinke Kissing a Cat on the Head and Having a Goddamned Cat Party

I mean, holy shit. There are not words to express the equal mix of shame and excitement I felt, and continue to feel, upon learning that these pictures exist. Zack Greinke saw a camera in front of him and then kissed his cat on the head. He and his wife and family and friends had a goddamned cat party. They celebrated the birthday of their beloved cat friend and dressed up in cat themed clothing. This happened. I don’t even know what to do with myself.

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Photos courtesy of Emily Greinke’s Twitter account

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Jim Leyland Churning Butter

 

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I Found This Figurine of Barry Bonds at My Parents’ House

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A figurine is a statuette that represents a human, deity or animal. Figurines may be realistic or iconic, depending on the skill and intention of the creator. The earliest were made of stone or clay.

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One Year Anniversary Repost: Felix Hernandez Throws Perfect Game: A Story

Felix Hernandez completed a perfect game some hours ago and I was present at Safeco Field for the final six outs. This is my story of how that came to pass. It is not going to feature any statistics or analysis or insight of any kind, this story is a simple one and I’m telling it because I honestly don’t know what else to write right now. I am a Mariners fan and so this is a very enjoyable day/evening for me. I am currently experiencing a lot of positive feelings and emotions and while those feelings and emotions are very nice and pleasant, they make writing about baseball with a clear head somewhat difficult. I’ve also been celebrating with an adult beverage or two which means this blog post is part of a grand literary tradition, a literary traditional that usually ends in tragedy and liver failure but a tradition nonetheless. Felix Hernandez has thrown a perfect game. This is my silly little story of how I experienced history. You have been warned.

I did not have tickets to attend this afternoon’s Mariners game but my wife did. This is one of the myriad examples of why my wife is smarter than I am. Put in charge of a work function, my wife made the particularly inspired choice to attend today’s game with a group of co-workers. The fact that Felix Hernandez was pitching seemed reward enough for her clairvoyance, but we all know there was more to come. I was tasked with picking her up in my car after the game ended and the timing seemed to be perfect. When the game started, my wife sent me a taunting text featuring a picture of a full beer and a hot dog and it made me very jealous. From that moment on, I began following the Mariners/Rays game very closely, texting my wife comments about certain happenings in a feeble attempt in interject myself into her revelry and good times. By the fourth inning I was discreetly watching the game on MLB.TV, what with it being the special free selection of the day and all. Painfully aware that Felix was pitching a perfect game, it struck me that his breaking ball was noticeably sharp and difficult to make contact with. I’m by no means an expert on this sort of thing, but I’ve watched the man pitch quite a few times and he was beginning to show signs that he was at the very top of his game. Unhittable. Perfect. Knowing that I had to drive to Safeco Field to pick my wife up from the game regardless, I told myself that were Felix to remain perfect through six innings, I would leave work early and make an attempt to attend the final innings live.

It happened. I left work. I drove very fast. I struggled to find parking for quite a while before an above-average spot opened up before me. I ran towards Safeco Field. I asked for the cheapest ticket available. I paid thirteen dollars and ran some more. I entered the stadium in time to watch Brendan Ryan battle and foul off many pitches during a lengthy at bat. I stood behind the seats behind home plate. Other things happened and then Felix was pitching and it was the eighth inning. He was to face Longoria/Zobrist/Pena. Snark all you want about the Rays lineup but I defy you to disrespect that collection of hitters, especially given the circumstances. All three struck out. The atmosphere of the stadium was electric, metaphorical sparks and all that. I spoke to my wife on the phone and after some more running around the two of us ended up standing behind the seats on the third base line as Felix faced the final three batters of the game. I’m unclear on the details but I’m pretty sure all three were retired from the game without a successful hit or walk. Two of them struck out, the eleventh and twelfth of the contest. Everyone yelled loudly and jumped into the air. Emotions were purged. Catharsis was achieved. There was joy.

Joy, perhaps the rarest of human emotion. A word that looks strange in isolation. Say that word—Joy. Think about what it actually means. Delight, gladness, pleasure, mirth, rejoicing. This is what sports did, what baseball did, what Felix Hernandez did. There’s something to be said here about how bad the Mariners have been at playing baseball and how long things have been this way. I’ll leave this truth to more thorough writers. I’ll compromise by saying they’ve been pretty damn bad for a pretty long time. And then there was this, and all of a sudden everything was worth it. Everything we had endured up to this point only served to heighten the elation of the experience. Pain provided perspective and our appreciation was stronger for it. That sounds lame, trite. You might sense hyperbole in those words but I swear that they are true. Felix Hernandez pitched a perfect game and I can say that I was there. I was there with my wife and we were happy and things were good and baseball was the cause. That’s validation enough for this ridiculous hobby we all share. That’s something be grateful for, that’s something to celebrate.

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You are Dead to Me, Carlos Quentin

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That’s it, Carlos Quentin. You are dead to me. Following your inevitable suspension, the next time you come to bat or take the field, I will see nothing. I will see air. You have become an apparition. Like the ships of Columbus set down on the shores of the New World, unseen by the bewildered eyes of the native peoples, your visage to me will be invisible, incomprehensible. For you are dead to me, or even more than dead, you are a void, a blank line. Erased. Never existed. Your father’s seed never swum, your mother’s womb never blossomed. You were never conceived nor nurtured nor birthed. You are dead to me, Carlos Quentin, or even more than dead. No one fucks with my Zack.

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Some Baseball Blog Posts Featuring the Seattle Mariners

I definitely write for Lookout Landing now. I’ve penned three posts at this point and I’m still there and they haven’t asked me to leave. It’s happening. It’s real. Seeing as Lookout Landing is a baseball blog that focuses on the Seattle Mariners, and I myself am also a Seattle Mariners fan, it seems like a not terrible idea to compile a few links to the posts I’ve written in the past that were about said Mariners. There have been 288 submissions around these parts and 50 of them have been tagged with “Seattle Mariners.” So those are some numbers. Below, you’ll find a link to all 50 (if you hate yourself, I suggest reading them all), as well as a hand-picked sampling from that number that I don’t completely despise. Maybe you came here from Lookout Landing and want to know how terrible I am at writing. Maybe you’re just super into the Seattle Mariners and lord help you. At any rate, there is Seattle Mariners content here, if you’re into that sort of thing.

All posts tagged “Seattle Mariners”

Oliver Perez: Vessel of the Divine

Please Remember That Felix Hernandez Threw a Perfect Game and Me and My Wife Were Both There As Witnesses

An Open Letter to the Person Selling an Autographed Erik Bedard Jersey on Seattle Craigslist

Purchased: Randy Johnson and Ken Griffey Jr. 1991 Fleer Baseball Cards

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Banknotes Harper Surrounded by Banknotes

After one fateful evening, in which I read Dayn Perry’s modern masterpiece “Banknotes Harper is Going to Have to Take This Call” and figuratively laughed my literal ass off, I awoke the next morning and browsed the myriad tubes of the world wide web, inspired and compelled to find and purchase the Brian Harper Cell Phone Baseball Card featured in the post. Let’s not examine my motivations and desires too much here, for there can only be losers. At any rate, I was able to procure my treasure for the extremely reasonable price of $3.19 plus $0.39 shipping. It was mailed my my home address and is now in my possession.

Now, if the baseballing internet and one Mr. Perry will allow me a humble homage, I would like to present my own awkwardly plagiaristic submission to the prestigious blogging genre of Men Surrounded By Things. I give you, for some reason, Banknotes Harper Surrounded by Banknotes:

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