On World Series Home-Field Advantage

Some hot baseball numbers for your Monday morning consideration.

Here’s the Texas Ranger’s regular season record:

Wins – 96, Losses – 66, Winning Percentage – .593

Here’s the St. Louis Cardinal’s regular season record:

Wins – 90, Losses – 72, Winning Percentage – .556

The team from Texas played better baseball over the long regular season than the team from St. Louis, and yet, the Cardinals will enjoy home-field advantage in the World Series because the National League won the (should be) unimportant and (should be) meaningless All-Star Game like, 4 months ago. Maybe this home-field advantage won’t play much of a factor, maybe (probably) the series won’t even reach a 7th game, but the advantage, or potential for it, exists nonetheless. All of this is kind of funny, considering that C.J. Wilson, the de facto ace of the Ranger’s staff pitched in the All-Star game and took the loss, giving up 3 runs in 1 inning of work. It’s kind of funny, but mostly the way Major League Baseball determines home-field advantage for the World Series is just stupid. And dumb. And I hate it.

Prince Fielder and Albert Pujols Discuss Their Finances

Multi-Millionaires

Albert: Prince, I probably shouldn’t be asking you this, what with the very important baseball game we’re currently playing still going on—but I have to know, what are you going to buy with all that money you get this off-season?

Prince: Inappropriate as this topic of conversation may be given the present circumstances, I too was eager to hear of your monetary plans as well!

Albert: Great minds, Prince. Great minds.

Prince: I hear that, brother. Anyway, I’ve given this a lot of thought, and I think the first thing I’ll do is solidify the college funds I’ve created for my two children, Jadyn and Haven.

Albert: Haven is a funny name.

Prince: You’re one to talk, my man, did you really name one of your kids Ezra? Big fan of the Cantos, are you?

Albert: Actually, I found the Cantos to be a bit too preoccupied with its own notion of cultural awareness. Pound’s ambivalent use of quotation as a vehicle for incessant historical and societal emptiness was a bit problematic for me, as well.

Prince: Holy shit, nevermind, forget I asked.

Albert: I’m much more taken by his earlier work, Personae and the like. The lucidity of the prose allows for his superior technical ability to really make an impact.

Prince: I don’t have any idea what the fuck you’re talking about. I just remembered the book from high school, dude.

Albert: Sorry Prince, let’s get this conversation back on topic. I’ve been known to deviate a bit when an influential master such as Pound enters the discourse. I’m probably just going to give most of the money to Glenn Beck.

Prince: Hold on, what? That crazy white guy from Fox News?

Albert: He can be very convincing when presenting his three-stage plan for the evolution of American society. I could introduce you sometime if you’d like.

Prince: No thanks, man. I think I’m just going to invest in the college.

Albert: Fair enough.

Prince: I’ll probably also buy like a pile of diamonds.

Image courtesy of Jamie Squire/Getty Images

Regarding Octavio Dotel’s Throw, and What Followed

There’s probably a metaphor here, with this subject kicking off my inaugural post. Read into it what you will.

Sports fans, myself included, are fond of mentally elevating their own athletic ability after a professional makes a particular mistake. It’s often you’ll hear from a casual observer, “Oh, I could have done that.” It’s a fun thing to say, even if it is sort of dickish. It allows the speaker to inhabit the realm of the supremely talented, if only for a single fleeting moment. It’s kind of a funny statement, sometimes, I suppose. Oh that highly paid professional athlete made a blunder that I also could have made with my significantly smaller paycheck and talent level! is the implication. The dirty little secret is that most of the time, and depending on the speaker, these statements are usually wrong. Hilariously wrong, even. Most sports fans probably don’t even posses the ability to put themselves in the proper position to make such a mistake. They aren’t fast enough, can’t jump high enough, can’t throw a ball as hard, can’t swing a bat as fast. Most sports fans would need an infusion of talent to simply attempt to make the mistake of a professional athlete.