Tag Archives: Boston Red Sox

Call to the Pen: Carl Crawford Begins Throwing Program

Carl Crawford baseball player plays sport plays baseball throws ball hurt arm rehab good program for throwing sweatpants now Dodgers not Red Sox cross trainer arm throw shoes blue Los Angeles rehab ball throw injury good opening day outfield player wild card fortify playing team begin throwing.

Please click this internet hyperlink to read the entire post over at Call to the Pen

Reports are swirling that Carl Crawford, recent addition to the Los Angeles Dodgers baseball team, has begun to throw a baseball. Mark Saxon kicked off the media firestorm yesterday with this scintillating story. Attempting to return from reconstructive surgery on his left, throwing elbow, Crawford has recently begun to pick up, hold, and then throw a baseball. These are the facts. There remains a high probability that Crawford has started to throw a baseball various lengths, probably from shorter distances at first, followed by a slow progression to longer throws, and so on. These throws were more than likely accompanied by a catching and throwing partner, with Crawford expected to catch return tosses himself, one would assume with a baseball mitt.


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Call to the Pen: Is Kevin Youkilis Too Sweaty to be a Yankee?


The Question: Kevin Youkilis too sweaty to be a New York Yankee?

The Process: A whole lot of ham-fisted prose and thesaurus words and Wikipedia information.
_____________Occasional joke attempts.

The Answer: It wasn’t a real question.

Please click this internet hyperlink to read the entire post over at Call to the Pen

 It starts at the temples, pools and spreads across the forehead. Once volume meets critical mass, surface tension takes over, and the liquid begins to travel outward, onto the brim and then to the tip of the bill. The perspiration converges, multiplies, drips. Drips a lot. More so when present on a batting helmet, the wool absorbancy of the the on-field cap no longer an obstacle. This is the sweat of Youkilis, the excretion of a Red Sock, the sudor of a heathen. Greek God, pshaw! This is not the way of a gentleman Yankee.


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A Picture of Some Baseball Players Enjoying Their Move More Than the Author

Here is a picture of some professional baseball players who are no doubt having a much more enjoyable and carefree experience moving than the author, who is currently in the midst of transporting all of his belongings across the city of Seattle from an apartment to a house while also painting many walls of said house and not getting very much sleep.

Also, Nick Punto lol.

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FanSided: Red Sox Fire Hitting Coach, Instantly Improve Hitting

Oh man, the Red Sox sure have been bad. But they fired their hitting coach! So now everything will be better! I investigated this exciting new development over at FanSided and wrote words about it. Congratulations on winning the 2012 World Series, Red Sox!

PS: I was going to add an image to this post and so I Googled “Red Sox suck” and holy shit, was that ever a terrible idea. It was almost enough to make you root for the Red Sox. The internet is such a stupid place. What the hell are we all doing here at this stupid place?

Please click this internet hyperlink to read the entire post over at FanSided

Dustin Pedroia was asked about the firing and he responded with great optimism. “I feel awesome,” said the second-baseman, currently sporting an OPS of .333, the lowest mark of his career since his rookie season. “Don’t get me wrong, Bob was a good guy, but now that he’s gone I just feel like such a better hitter, you know? All that junk he used to tell me about my front foot and clearing my hips and all that? Yuck. Confusing. Now I’m free, man. I feel great.” Slugger Adrian Gonzalez agreed with his teammate, he himself posting near career low hitting numbers this season. Gonzalez was confident improvement was coming soon. “Bob was always telling me these strange things, things like ‘Be bad at hitting’ and ‘Don’t worry about hitting the ball hard.’ I never understood that,” said the first-baseman. “Now that Bob is gone, I won’t be hearing that kind of instruction, and I’ll be able to better focus on other things, like being good at hitting.”


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Call to the Pen: An Interview with Dustin Pedroia’s Balding Head

Sometimes you write about real baseball, about players, their talent, their teams, the moves in which they are involved. Sometimes you write about the baseball standings, or the baseball news,
or the popular baseballing topics of the day. And sometimes you write about Dustin Pedroia’s Bald Head, and you conduct a fake interview with said dome. Sometimes that happens.

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Words to Describe the Cody Ross Bat Flip








Hat tip to Green Line Outfit for the giffage

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Let’s Just Look at All These People’s Faces For a Minute

The great thing about this photograph is that it is hilarious and also has something to do with baseball. Bonus points for the inclusion of Mariners fans and for Red Sox fans seemingly taking the brunt of the punishment. I’m looking at the picture right now and I’m laughing out loud real-life-not-internet style. Literal guffaws and chuckles. Mirth abounding. I have half a mind to break this fucker down one face at a time but that would require some real effort and commitment. I don’t care for either of those things. Instead, I’ll convince myself that the journey of discovery is best left to the reader and his or her imagination. Scan this photograph with your eyes, look deeply and leave no visage uninspected, for there are treasures to behold and rewards to be reaped for the discerning viewer. Hahaha, the looks on all the faces. A tip of the imaginary cap to Adam Kramer for alerting the world to all of this on the Twitter machine.

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The New Yorker Archive: John Updike on Ted Williams

There’s something going on at Fenway Park today. I’m not really sure what but everyone seems to be really excited about it. To mark whatever the occasion may be, The New Yorker has opened up it’s archives and allowed us peasants to access John Updike’s article about Ted Williams’ final game at Fenway. It’s rather wonderful, in my estimation. You should read it. You should read all the really good combinations of words that are in it. And you better move fast, because the free ride is good for today only, and is well worth the time, I promise. How strange and refreshing to read a bit of earnest sports writing for a change. I remember what it was like to be earnest. I should be more earnest. For posterity, I’ve taken the liberty of shamelessly plagiarizing some of the passages that spoke to me most. All credit is due to my wife for alerting me to this whole thing. She’s a smart lady.

… indeed, for Williams to have distributed all his hits so they did nobody else any good would constitute a feat of placement unparalleled in the annals of selfishness.


Baseball is a game of the long season, of relentless and gradual averaging-out. Irrelevance—since the reference point of most individual games is remote and statistical—always threatens its interest, which can be maintained not by the occasional heroics that sportswriters feed upon, but by players who always care; who care, that is to say, about themselves and their art. Insofar as the clutch hitter is not a sportswriter’s myth, he is a vulgarity. Like a writer who writes only for money.


All baseball fans believe in miracles; the question is, how many do you believe in?


… the second baseman turned ever grounder into a juggling act, while the shortstop did a breathtaking impersonation of an open window.


The afternoon grew so glowering that in the sixth inning the arc lights were turned on—always a wan sight in the daytime, like the burning headlights of a funeral procession.


Have you ever heard applause in a ballpark? Just applause—no calling, no whistling, just an ocean of handclaps, minute after minute, burst after burst, crowding and running together in a continuous succession like the pushes of a surf at the edge of the sand. It was a sombre and considered tumult. There was not a boo in it. It seemed to renew itself out of a shifting set of memories as the kid, the Marine, the veteran of feuds and failures and injuries, the friend of children, and the enduring old pro evolved down the bright tunnel of twenty-one summers toward this moment.


Nevertheless, there will always lurk, around a corner in a pocket of our knowledge of the odds, and indefensible hope, and this was one of those times, which you now and then find in sports, when a density of expectation hangs in the air and plucks an event out of the future.


He ran as he always ran out home runs—hurriedly, unsmiling, head down, as if our praise were a storm of rain to get out of.


Every true story has an anticlimax.


So he knew how to do even that, the hardest thing. Quit.

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Call to the Pen: 2012 AL East Division Preview

There’s only so many hacky ways one can write that the AL East has a ton of good teams. You know this to be true, I know this to be true, there’s not a lot of room left over for creative insights. Well, sure, there probably is, actually, but let’s not sit here and pretend like I’m going to come up with any of them. All I’m going to do is write semi-ironic sentences that end in lazy exclamation points. Something like: The American League East sure does have a lot of teams that are really good at playing the sport of baseball!

Moving on: I previewed the AL East over at Call to the Pen. Click yourself on over there to read about all five teams—a best case scenario, worst case scenario, and storyline to watch for each of them. I have this little hope inside that that Blue Jays put everything together, catch a few breaks, and somehow snag one of those weird Wild Card spots. That would be a lot of fun, I think.


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