A really long post with a somewhat underlying theme.

A while back I was watching baseball tonight, and known political commentator George F Will was brought on to give his expert insight on the game of baseball today as we know it. I do not know why. I mean, I don’t see Larry King bringing on Billy Bean or even the Twins’ allegedly alive GM Bill Smith (who masterfully oversaw the Johan Santana in exchange for several Box Car Children trade) to give their two cents on the Gulf of Mexico catastrophuck.

Anywho… where were we? Ah yes, George Will. Say what you will about him politically, as I have vehemently agreed with him and disagreed with him on a wide array of topics. That is not what this is all about, because politics have become increasingly too polarizing and is making people too unreasonable. What really grinds my gears to quote the great Peter Griffin is that this dude really doesn’t have a clue when it comes to baseball.

He’s a famous fan of the game. I get it. He’s well read, respected, and articulate. Doesn’t mean he knows what the F he’s talking about. The problem with this cat is that he is trying to embrace new age stats, but really doesn’t understand their practical application.
He started prattling on about how the triple crown is dumb. I disagreed, because the triple crown seems timeless. Regardless of live ball eras, dead ball eras, steroid eras, or even the Mesozoic era, you still essentially are the best contact and power hitter in your league that respective year if you win it.

He went on to say that the problem was with the average stat being included, that this should be replaced with On base percentage. Really George Will? Your astute baseball mind thinks average is the problem? Anyone with half a brain could tell you of the 3 stats, RBI’s are the least reflective of how good a player is. That is not to say they have no value whatsoever, but they are a better reflection of how the hitters ahead of you are fairing, not your personal performance. Throughout his poorly educated rant, he failed to even mention VORP and OPS, my two favorite new age stats. OBP is a nice stat, but to make your stand at OBP is comparable to vacuuming while your house is burning down. (I know this is probably a poor simile, but when trying to think of an appropriate one, I pictured Gary Busey doing just this, and I chuckled to myself…just try it, I’ll wait)

I think these sites do a nice job of VORP if you are unfamiliar.
http://www.stathead.com/bbeng/woolner/vorpdescnew.htm (complicated VORP explanation)

http://www.baseballprospectus.com/glossary/index.php?search=vorp (simple VORP explanation)

And OPS is on base percentage plus slugging percentage. So basically any base you achieve from the plate is considered a hit. A walk leads to a 1000 OPS, as does a single. A 1-4 game with a home run would still equal 1000 OPS because the 4 bases would equal essentially 4 “hits”

When I look at these stats I feel I have a lot better picture as to the impact a player has on his team offensively, showing what they do compared to an average player, and how many total bases they get per plate appearance essentially. These stats are all that is good in the world

This got me to thinking- why is punditry such a huge business? It’s rampant in every sector of life. Columnists in various sections of the paper essentially are paid to give their opinion on matters, folks like Bill O'Reilly and Chris Matthews and other political pundits make millions attempting to find unique angles that would be pleasing to their target audience. I, myself have been known to watch two cranky old men argue sports on PTI, and have my very own blog so I can share my opinions with the world. What is its allure?

I think people enjoy listening and reading pundits work because it helps us form our own opinion on matters. I’m not saying we are all sheep that vehemently agree with everything that is said. But, rather, we may not know exactly how we felt about that new bill passing/that big basketball trade/ the latest Hollywood break up until we hear another person’s take on the matter. We can pick and choose things that are said that agree and disagree with, further narrowing the scope of our emotions and thoughts. Plus either way, we can smirk quietly to ourselves at what an idiot the particular talking head is.

Take this NBA draft for instance. As I was watching it with my buddies we had a wide range of emotions (having a few brews in us only aided these mood swings). At first we loved the Wesley Johnson pick, then complained about not moving up in the draft. Then we hated Luke Babbitt, talked ourselves into him after 10 minutes of banter, then were actually upset with the trade with the Trailblazers. It was only after the draft, and after having looked over some analysis that I came to the realization I already knew: David Kahn is a moron.

We netted 3 small forwards from our first round picks, continuing the streak of Kahn feeling the need only to address one position per draft with a serial killer-like coldness. Can we please put someone up there with a brain who understands the game of basketball? We needed a center. He said it himself. K-love and Big Al can’t play together because they are both below the rim power forwards and don’t anyone dare tell me Darko Millicic is the answer or I will stick this keyboard where the sun don’t shine! (gasping for breath while massaging knuckles in fury)

That lovely Timberwolves tangent aside, I was able to articulate these thoughts better after hearing what other people had to say, and molding and melting and rejecting those ideas to form my own unique perspective. So as annoying as pundits are (see Limbaugh, Rush) they do facilitate our processing of information, and with all the outlandish statements I’ve heard them make in my day, if nothing else, have huge cojones.

I will now go lay down a towel, face southeast, get on my knees, extend my hands towards the heavens and proclaim KAHN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! for no fewer than 72 consecutive hours. Good day.

DS/Twins

An interesting thing you’ll note if you grace the halls of Concordia is these posters. The posters consist of advertising for the dining services. There are roughly infinity things wrong with this picture. First of all I’ll equate these to the advertising by the Census bureau in terms of just how flawed it is. Isn’t the census something we theoretically have to do anyway? Why are you wasting millions of dollars to try to convince someone to do something that is considered an obligation in your eyes? I didn’t do my census right away and nothing happened, eventually a guy started coming to our door, until we did it, and that was that. I was not swayed by all of the hip suburbanites who were having such an awesome time telling the federal government they were white in the commercials.

Similarly, I feel DS does not need to waste their time with awful posters around campus. Freshman and sophomores must, I repeat must, (some very crafty sophs excluded), live on campus and have a meal plan. Eating somewhere around twice a day for eight months will lead someone to make their own opinions a million times over. These underclassmen need no posters, they are already going to eat there because they have to. And not one of them after 2 full years doesn’t know -exactly- all of the pros and cons of continuing a meal plan there.

I feel insulted by the posters every time I look at them as well because to think they’d persuade even one person to go from not having a meal plan to having one is appalling. One of them says something along the lines of “20 dollars for an entrée, appetizer and dessert? Not here! With some smiling person in the background naturally eating there less than 20 dollar meal. I don’t drop 20 bucks a pop at any restaurant I frequently attend DS. Nobody is thinking, Hmm where can I pay less than 20 dollars for a decent meal in today’s day and age… where?!?!???

Dumb.

Save yourself some paper, ink, and four idiots time thinking up these posters, probably getting paid too much per hour from my tuition to advertise something that need not be advertised.

I filled out my census (eventually), and I had my mandatory meal plans. Both times have now passed. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to create a propaganda campaign to promote this new wave that will soon be sweeping the country, breathing!

Twins Talk 2010:
The Twinks are in first place and feeling fine. Francisco Liriano looks so great right now. I don’t know what happened. Maybe we all just rushed to judgement (oops), and forgot he’d undergone major elbow surgery, but wow. Fastball touching 97 at times, that same slider that lefty after lefty wave over by 6 inches, realizing only at the last moment how silly they are about to look.

This is not your Twins of old, either. We got guys that can drop bombs. Thome, although we could put against Vlad Guerrero in a “who looks like their legs are filled with country fried steak” contest, still mashes. Cuddyer, Kubel and Morneau are still home run threats. And Span, Hudson and Mauer look to be on pace to put up some crazy OBP numbers. I especially like this team because they are fun to watch. The old pitching and defense teams of old were efficient, and won division titles, but fizzled in the playoffs. Looking back, I was a bit of an optimist to think that an infield of Corey Koskie’s back, Cristian Guzman (guz- MAN) if you’re Jon Miller and have to pronounce everything properly in Spanish to remind us you can speak it sort of, Luis Rivas’s sorry ass, and Dougy fresh.

The lone flaw of the team is spotty starting pitching at times (See Blackburn, N), and of course the compost known in some cultures as Jesse Crain. (See above picture begrudgingly signing autographs to reduce value of goods he is signing) Recently I suggested online that “Jim Abbott’s nub could deliver better pitches than Jesse Crain.” After reflecting upon this further I decided this was a very unfair and unflattering statement to make… to Jim Abbott’s nub. I meant no disrespect Jim, I mean your nub was at least useful, you could put your glove on it when you pitched. To compare it or you in any way to Jesse Crain was wrong of me. Jesse Crain isnt useful. He can best be compared to having a microwave on a deserted island. Sure he throws hard/ can handily heat up food, but there is no plug in available/breaking pitch of any significance/ability to spot up/ soul (in both cases) to be found.

Let it be known that is was right here that America was first reminded that nobody wins the crane game…nobody. I pray every night that I am wrong, but I guess some prayers do go unanswered (sappy acoustic guitar in background) This picture has nothing to do with anything. I just think its awesome.

North by Northwest

Not long ago, I was helping out at the Great Plains Food Shelf, and the experience was a very strange one to say the least. First of all, we were marking, and packaging Ugg boots, loading them by the box onto palate after palate. These things are retailing for 150 a pop. Don’t these people have greater needs than being fashionable? I am picturing a homeless man in south LA wearing a garbage bag- pancho, and Uggs. Let this sink in please. If you haven’t started to gauge your eyes out in frustration read on.

There was a worker there shuffling things around on a forklift, and I happened to ask him where the bathroom was. Reasonable question. He responded by telling me it was around the corner and east of the stairs. East of the stairs? I’m not Ferdinand Magellan over here. I frantically looked up to find the north star, but in vein, considering we were INDOORS. I dislike when people don’t give directions in terms of left and right when I’m outside, but come on man. My pocket contents are typically phone keys and wallet. I typically leave my compass hiking stick, and merit badges at home, so unless you’re getting molested by your troop leader please refrain from telling me stuff is “East of the stairs.” Athank you. (Fumbling for number of good lawyer)

Something every person who takes living in 2010 for granted absolutely must do is re-watch the original “Mission Impossible.” Not only will this make you hate Tom Cruise even more (possible??), you will laugh out loud at the alleged technology. The computers are so clunky and obnoxious. The dialogue in hindsight is completely laughable. And best of all, I think Tom Cruise is wearing a mask, and dramatically unveils himself as someone else about infinity times. Tom Cruise had probably been practicing this maneuver for years in front of a mirror every night, just waiting for his chance to do it in every scene in a movie.

Also, the deaths of all of Tom’s colleagues (way overly done line- very funny—(THEY’RE DEAD…THEY’RE ALL DEAD!!) are so melodramatic and stupid. The old man dying on a bridge then falling into the river, and his female counterpart watching someone being pulled against a gate, walking over there, and being stabbed by the same assailant. Dumb. After Last Samurai I didn’t think I could hate Tom Cruise anymore. I type corrected.

To put this movie into perspective, the N64 was the best video game system in the year it came out… Oh wait, it still is! (Receiving scorn of 1000 nerds who are angerly reaching for their PS3 controllers/inhaler)

Starbucks

I have never been a coffeeshop guy. Maybe it’s because I’m stubborn and have already condemned that entire crowd irrationally as hippie punksters. Maybe it’s because I’m cheap. Or maybe it’s because I don’t drink coffee. Regardless, I recently reluctantly agreed to study at Starbucks, and my world got turned on its head.

There is a harmony about the place, an inexplainable quality. I literally hadn’t been in a coffee shop in years. The employees rocking the dramatic headsets caught me off guard, each one it seemed should be shouting instructions at a pilot, not brewing up a cappacino. Ordering coffee is like a language unto itself, and I realized how unprepared I was as I listened to customers ahead of me in line order extravagantly, using words I had never heard before. I went with the hot chocolate.

When I did muster the courage to order, I noted how the smile of the girl taking my order seemed so sincere, like there was nothing she’d rather be doing that getting me my grande hot chocolate. Such a far cry from what you usually get from fast food joints, whose employees’ eyes are tired, and whose smiles are those who have served too many fries, robotic.

As we sat down to set up shop, I started to take the place in. It had a very distinct style. Unique artwork was plastered all around with no explanation or cohesion. One, a painting of a depression-era building, near collapse, caption-less, next to it, an upbeat collage of bright colors.

There was a certain buzz about the air. The anticipation of caffeine junkies getting their fix, white noise meshing with the soft acoustic music that filled the air, as though people would hear this. No ear was naked, each branding their very own pair of Steve Jobs brand white earbuds, drinking the apple kool-aid. And why not? I was just as guilty as the rest of them, and without hesitation slipped mine in and hit shuffle. I was there for the long haul.

I felt insanely productive. I felt at home. After about 20 minutes, however, my ADD got the best of me and I started to people watch. It was like the coffee shop brought out an inner person some people did not know they had. They exuberantly and feverishly talked with their hands in between sips. Mundane topics seemed so much more intellectual as they bounced off the brightly colored walls that jutted out at random places.

And there I sat for hours on end, entertaining myself as I watched the air traffic controllers whip up their elaborate perky concoctions as others studied, talked, laughed, and consumed. The constant buzz of activity and restlessness willed me on as I stared blankly at my notes, Starbucks making a believer out of me.

Contrary to popular belief Hillary Rodham Clinton is not a Starbucks employee... yet.

N Scott, Gus and Kev

Announcers can make or break a game. Bad announcing can stick out like a sore thumb, and great ones blend seamlessly into the game. But, I’ve decided the top 3 announcers based on the simple test of who I would want to narrate my life. (Which will happen once a billionaire decides to philanthropically donate all his money to me for no apparant reason…just you wait)

3) Gus Johnson. The man will always have a special place in my heart. He gets excited when things are only borderline exciting, and when things are actually exciting…oh boy- look out. This is a man who once nicknamed a white player from Maine “The White Lobster”, and when he hit two threes in a row screeched “THE WHITE LOBSTER (pause for effect) IS COOKIN’!!. Brilliant. I would love to listen to him get animated over me doing something commonplace like brushing my teeth. (He cuts towards the incisors... and look at Molars!?!? He Cant be stopped!! he cant be stopped!!) Check out this clip and try to argue with me that he’s my number 3:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sgeqrYxu_YM (Batista with the caahhhhtchhh!!!)

2) Kevin Harlan- Nothing brings back childhood memories like listening to Kevin Harlan’s melodious baritone call a game with such a suave debonair aura about him. AP for 3 was emphatically bellowed, and whenever Tom Gugliotta (my vote for person who would make the best celebrity “guido”) did anything, and I mean anything A googili-googili-oogili!! would be howled for all to hear. Seriously, I think mundane defensive rebounds were given this royal and raw treatment to everyone’s delight. There is no way that everytime Gugliotta was celebrated aloud by Kevin Harlan, an angel got its wings.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nc-DV-RB0mg Not a video of the greatest quality, but watch just to hear his voice, and weep that TNT ever stole him from FSN silently with me.


1) N Scott Momaday (Not actually a sports announcer, but back off its my list)
Complete Bauss. N Scott Momaday is a Native American poet, artist, and historian, and he has the greatest voice in the history of anything. I could listen to him say or do anything. Seriously, he could read every word of the wretched script to “XXX” and it would be absolute perfection. (Listening to N Scott Momaday read a Vin Diesel line just got added to my bucket list) When I rule the world, N Scott Momaday is going to read me a bed time story every night. Elongating words at the most perfect time, and having immaculate and unparalleled cadence.

This video really doesn’t do him justice, but rest assured, you will fall in love with his voice just as I have, and you will thank me. You’re welcome.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1v0zR_VvEco

BAMF

NASCAR: code for Mensa?

Check out this vid Exactly how I envision the inner workings of NASCAR:

http://www.theonion.com/content/video/nascar_coach_reveals_winning

There's no place like less rock more talk for the holidays

At first, I thought the Giants were fools to rent AJ Pierzynski for perennial all-star closer Joe Nathan, the once cool Francisco Liriano, and Boof Bonser. But then I realized, they got rid of Boof Bonser, so they were the true winners. Seriously. His fastball is straighter than Brad Pitt in a strip club. (can that define straightness?? I mean if I were to make a crooked joke, I’d say Freddy Mercury at a Village people concert. Screw it, just think Brad Pitt in Fight Club... if that’s not straight I don’t know what is) Furthermore, the pitch always located with all the precision of a recovering meth addict with Parkinsons. I think if a sea lion mated with raccoon, and that offspring and a large turd produced a child, that child would be Boof Bonser.

Boof Bonser: I hate you. I’ve hated you since I first laid eyes upon you. I hate everything about you, your stupid face, your stupid name, the stupid red bulls you pound in incessantly with that “woe is me” look on your face. And now you are gone!!! (Cue up the stereotypical cinco de mayo celebratory trumpets… you know what I’m talking about people!) .

Can we just establish that this guys’ name is John, but wants to be called Boof. I know we’ve become desensitized to this being Twins fans over the years, but something is seriously not right about this. No one’s nickname should be Boof. Have fun with him Red Sox! Best of luck, and hope you like unmeasurable ERAs! (restraining….self…from…further…personal…attacks)

I apologize to anyone who has made one of these groups, and please prove me wrong- But I do not feel the whole If (unrealistic number) people join this group my (insert relationship to other person here) will (do something crazy/kick a bad habit/stop going on murderous rampages) is a reasonable way to attempt to do something crazy/kick a bad habit/stop going on murderous rampages.

*editors note- this blog does not condone murderous rampages regardless of the amount of people on facebook that support you not killing people without mercy. Please refrain from killing people no matter what happens on your profile on your social networking site of choice Thanks. *
If you want to quit smoking, quit smoking. If you can’t kick the habit on your own, elicit the support of your friends and family. I fail to see how the feigned support of 10,000 random strangers could persuade anyone to take some sort of action. This is reaching a “farmville/mobsters” zone of annoying aspects of facebook.

Facebook is a great way to keep with your friends, but let’s not make it into something it’s not with these annoying groups. Pretty please? K thanks

----These 2 guys support your quest to conquer mount Everest!! Only 39,998 people to go before you summon the courage to do so!

Also, when you google image search Boof Bonser, one of the results is Doug Funny. I don't know what this means. All I know is that I like it.