I think Hernandez died in your arms tonight. It must’ve been something you said.
May 2018 M T W T F S S « Jun 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31
I think Hernandez died in your arms tonight. It must’ve been something you said.
Hernandez and I took a bye week last week from our picks column as I travelled to Spain, particularly Barcelona which translates loosely from Spanish into “land of beautiful women on mopeds”. They should strongly consider making this an Olympic sport by the time they get to to Rio de Janeiro. I was discussing with some Brits while I was there that all you really need to get by without any Spanish is ‘hola’, ‘gracias’ and ‘cerveza por favor’, but now I need to add “¿Puedo satisfacer me siento en la parte posterior de su motocicleta?” (May I please sit on the back of your motorcycle?)
Two hours to Sunday gametime? What? As I foggily wipe my drool away, I must postpone the mammoth post I had planned for this week and get to my picks.
But first let’s take a realllllly close look at the score after week 3. I pulled off an *amazing* week of picks, going 15 and 1, and I missed the Monday night game. I was this close to having a perfect week. A coworker said that if I had bet $20 on a 12-team teaser (all teams must win), his bookie offers, he wasn’t sure if I would’ve been rich or killed.
Hernandez, meanwhile, with his belief that Dolphins can play football, went a paltry 7-9. For shame! Losing to the soccer fan! Stop watching preseason hockey and the Disney Channel and start paying attention.
I’m now up 34-14 to 23-25. Good start, me.
Well hey, Casanovaginas!
You may need to read that twice. It’s really better to say out loud–now that I think about it, it looks a lot like Casino Vaginas, which was not what I was trying to get across at all, and I duly apologize to any casino vaginas currently residing out there. Try this — Casanova(gina)s. Any better?
I was hoping to skip over here during the week and talk about something, anything really. Like the fact that Champions League soccer started again this week and defending champions Barcelona wore pink uniforms against top Italian squad Inter Milan. (I’ll tell you right now, that takes some serious balls. You’ll never see NFL players do that, and you know why? Because they’re huge pussies, afraid of their manhood. That’s why they wear so many pads.)
But work was a bitch this week and kept me far from the stocked cooler that is IKH. So bad, in fact, that my company bought some beers and pissed away the end of the week in our kitchen/lounge.
As is usually the case in these Friday afternoon sessions, the guys are congregated, and the women cower in the corners, or hide in their cubicles so as to avoid sexual assault. One of their rank bravely approached the kitchen at 5:00 to announce she was heading to Vegas for an extended vacation with her husband. A very bold move, considering the audience and the alcohol intake.
One of the guys coolly suggested she visit the Spearmint Rhino while she was there, and that her husband would really enjoy it. Now I’m not a big Vegas guy, nor were the majority of the other guys in the room, but it’s so obvious just from the name that the Spearmint Rhino is a strip club. (And frankly, a pretty gay sounding one.)
But as we sat there, I realized that there is a winning formula for naming a strip club. It’s very similar to coming up with your Porn Name–your first name is your first pet and your last name is the street you grew up on. Mine is Rusty Hazelwood, which is a fucking awesome porn name. I have a friend from Germany whose porn name is about 10 syllables long, and is the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.
But like I said, the formula for the strip club is this: Flavor + Animal. You can’t go wrong. For the next two hours, my coworkers and I came up with 75-100 skin joint names that would do great business in a cesspool like Vegas, or our kitchen. So I thought I’d roll them out with my Week 2 picks, in case there are any horny entrepreneurs out there. Or, as I like to call them…Casino Vaginas.
Hey dick biscuits!
You’d think that a blog named after a baseball player would’ve been busy all spring and summer talking about baseball. Well, it turns out that baseball is boring to write about. I think we all know it’s boring to watch unless you’re watching the team you root for. My Cardinals have kept me captivated, as I’m sure Mex’s Red Sox have, but Hernandez’s Mets opened their new stadium with a season in crap. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Mets have a ‘Shit the Bed’ promotion later this month, where the first 5,000 paying fans get to head down to the field and excrete on a custom-built 90′ by 90′ mattress. I’ll be selling chili and whiskey outside.
Yes, I know the Mets were plagued by injuries this year. But usually one of the richest teams in baseball goes out and spends money on new players when these things happen. The Mets just rolled over and died. Is this because owner Fred Wilpon got hosed by Bernie Madoff? Boohoo, Freddy. You should’ve invested your paycheck in rent, booze and tacos like the rest of us.
That felt good! It’s been a few months…
Anyway, baseball’s not IKH’s favorite subject to write about. I don’t find it boring to read about, and there are a great number of excellent baseball writers who write about my Cardinals. But I’ve come to the conclusion that the guys who write that stuff do a lot of research, present even-handed arguments, etc. They have a lot of time and semen on their hands.
So what better day to get back to insulting you and entertaining ourselves than the opening day of the NFL season? Let’s do this!
First order of bidness: NFL picks. Hernandez and I did this last year, we had a blast, and he got a free burger out of it. This year we’ll add in Mex, so we may need to switch the prize to all-you-can-eat tacos. And that reminds me–if you come to IKH for tepid, diarrhea-causing jokes, you are in luck, my friend. We have grand plans for you.
Keith’s pick! Steelers -6
Sunday picks coming soon. I need to charge my phone and find out where the hell everybody is.
Yesterday, Hernandez answered my 5 questions about the Mets, and tonight, I answer his Cardinals’ questions:
1. I don’t really know anyone on the Cardinals besides Albert Pujols, Rick Ankiel and Yadier Molina. (And I only know Ankiel because of his meltdown against the Mets in 2000 and Molina because of his lucky-as-fuck HR to beat the Mets in Game 7 of the 2006 NLCS.) So who should I be keeping an eye out for in this series? Sleepers, rookies, under the radar guys, etc.
The first guy you should look out for is Adam Wainwright, who struck out Carlos Beltran on a looking curve ball in the 2006 NLC– wait, you’ve probably heard of him. You’re just being coy.
The main guy to watch right now is 22 year-old CF Colby Rasmus, who is the highest-touted prospect in St. Louis in awhile, and a viable Rookie of the Year candidate. He has decent power, great speed and a decent eye at the plate, but he also patrols CF in a way that reminds me less of Jim Edmonds and more of Beltran — he always takes a great path to the ball, has great range and as a result never has to or tries to make highlight-reel circus catches.
The other guy to watch is Cardinals ace Chris Carpenter. After winning the Cy Young Award in 2005 and pitching extremely well in ’06, he missed almost all of ’07 and ’08. After a 6-week injury at the beginning of this year, he’s been lights out.
SS Brendan Ryan has hit two of his five career homeruns against the Mets; one in his first MLB game at Shea and one in the first game of this series. He’s nothing special, but seems to love it in Queens. Also, he wears a neck chain made out of bicycle chains and cockrings.
2. How have the Cardinals fixed the bullpen woes you alluded to? Is it because of the genius of Dave Duncan, who we all know is actually the brains behind the overrated drunk Tony LaRussa, or is it something else? However it happened, kudos to them for not overspending to fix the bullpen like the Mets did with Putz and K-Rod.
LaDunc had nothing to do with it. Journeyman and ex-juicer Ryan Franklin has emerged as a bona fide closer to the point where he may get some All-Star consideration, and it’s one of the reasons we’re lucky to find ourselves at the top of the NL Central.
Beyond that, the Cardinals have “fixed” the bullpen by carrying 13 pitchers all year. We’ve seen a hodgepodge of unproven rookies (Motte, Hawksworth, Boggs, Perez, among others), promising but recently injured guys who haven’t quite come back (McClellan, Kinney) with a couple of veteran leftys.
My favorite of the bunch is definitely Motte. He’s an ex-catcher who won the closer role in spring training but got bombarded in his first few save opportunities. He still isn’t pitching that well, and it’s because he only throws one pitch: a 96 mph fastball. But he has that crazy catcher’s delivery like he’s hallucinating Speedy Gonzalez stealing home on every pitch that makes me root for him.
But none of them have been that effective. In short, don’t worry about the bullpen.
3. Along those lines, why do the Cardinals only have the 17th highest payroll in MLB? Their fans are supposedly the best in the league. (Just ask one – they’ll definitely tell you!) St. Louis also has a brand new ballpark that practically prints cash, and an owner who is a huge George W. Bush backer. So what gives? High payroll doesn’t automatically mean a better team, but shouldn’t a rich owner be putting more of that money back into the club? Do St. Louis fans even care, or is their self-righteous image as the most forgiving, mild mannered fanbase more important to them?
A doozy! Let’s break this one down.
Their fans are supposedly the best in the league. (Just ask one – they’ll definitely tell you!)
No argument there. We are the best fans in baseball, and it’s gracious of you to say, Hernandez.
St. Louis also has a brand new ballpark that practically prints cash
and thank Fredbird for that! Let’s hope other franchises don’t build new ballparks to make money and accidentally name them after financial institutions that are living off TARP money…oops!
an owner who is a huge George W. Bush backer,
Ouch, and correct.
So what gives? Why do the Cardinals only have the 17th highest payroll in MLB?
Albert Pujols. Before this year, the Cardinals have had one of the top 10 payrolls in MLB. Albert is only under contract for two more years. Diehard Cardinals fans like myself have to believe that owner Bill DeWitt is making space to offer Albert the chance to stay with St. Louis for the rest of his career, because what other hope is there for this franchise?
Do St. Louis fans even care, or is their self-righteous image as the most forgiving, mild mannered fanbase more important to them?
Well, of course we care! Uh, we care… right? Maybe we should move on to the next question.
4. The Cardinals lead the league in pitchers who have suddenly died during the season. Which member of the current roster do you have next in the Dead Pool?
Whichever member of the bullpen charters a plane in New York this weekend, and convinces the Big Bopper (Joba Chamberlain) and bespectacled Buddy Holly (K-Rod) to join in.
That, or lefthander Dennys Reyes.
He’s an Egg McMuffin away from getting his number retired.
5. How disappointed will you be when Albert Pujols is finally exposed as the steroid cheat you know deep down that he is? As disappointed as you were in that other Cardinal fraud Mark McGwire, or less?
You know what? I’d feel relief.
Believe me, I’d be extremely, extremely bitter that the best hitter I ever saw with my own eyes was juicing, especially because he’s been the core of my team for so long. But if he *were* juicing? At least then, all of baseball would know that Albert was cheating, and would know why he’s been the best hitter on the planet. There’d be that same reaction we had to the years that McGwire, Sosa, Palmeiro, Clemens, Bonds, Giambi et al. had way past their prime; the same reaction to that time Brady Anderson hit 50 HRs; the same reason we know why A-Rod appealed to Madonna and other muscular strippers (other than his unique lactating ability).
But if Albert is juicing, he’s done a Hall-of-Fame job of keeping the dosage consistent. No one in baseball has put up the numbers in the first 9 years of their Major League career as a hitter. And yet there’s no evidence of crazy peaks in his numbers. He hasn’t spent too much time on the DL. This year, his home runs have been up, but at the same time he hasn’t been able to extend his arms and hit the other way on outside pitches like he did so effortlessly earlier in his career.
My feeling is that Albert is the real deal. But no matter how long he plays or what numbers he puts up, there will always be doubt in his abilities because of the era he’s playing in.
How can I explain it? Albert Pujols is like Mr. T. It doesn’t really matter to me what he does or doesn’t do anymore. He’s godsauce.
My Cardinals came to New York this week, and Hernandez and I are attending the last game of this series, and right now it’s slated to be Cardinals ace Chris Carpenter vs. Mets ace Johan Santana. This is also the week where Hernandez gets his complimentary Donovan’s burger for beating me at football picks last year.
Leading up to that Thursday game, Hernandez and I are going to engage in some good old-fashioned trash-talking. I’ve sent him 5 questions about his badly underperforming team, which he’ll respond to shortly. Then he’ll return the favor, asking me 5 questions about my equally flawed team, which I’ll respond to a day later.