Well, no. Not fishing.
Brandon Crawford- aside from the whole looking-like-Zac-Efron-thing – is the kind of guy you want to like from minute uno. His first Major League hit being a massive grand slam doesn’t hurt either. So I like B-Craw and I am perfectly happy with seeing him at shortstop when I look into my semi-distant-future crystal ball. But when I look into my not-so-distant-future crystal ball and see him? Hm. Not necessarily so happy.
But sources (who may or may not be the writer’s big-mouthed relative posing as a source) say that Sabean et al. are looking around for shortstop option cautiously but like Crawford as a candidate.
My “hm” just became a “hmmmm”.
It’s not like I’m pressing a knife to anyone’s back to sign a shortstop to a million and one year deal. At some point, hopefully soon, Crawford will be ready for the bright lights and all that, I’m just not really willing to trust to that personally.
Would O-Cab be better? Nah. That is, no. But there mightbeprobablyis someone out there who could fill the role nicely, because I’m just not read to put a whole lot of faith in Crawford. While his defense is bee-yoo-tah-ful, he batted .204 last year and was somewhat dismal at more than a few points.
I have one eyebrow raised and my fingers crossed, behind my back.
(Fun fact about me: I once had a clam named Spock. He lived for, oh, 24 hours? Don’t call Animal Control, please. We gave him a rocking name, if nothing else.)
Anyhow, maybe me and Sabean would get along after all. We seem to have eerily similar feelings about them young players.
This is creeping me out. No, Brian has not taken over my body and is now operating as me. But I should probably go now and wash my hands anyway.
Verlander wins the Cy Young award unanimously!
Er, that is (bring in the friendly photo, pronto, please and thank you):
Ah, there we go!
No, seriously. I’m happy for him. Way happy for him. Grinning-from-ear-to-ear-because-it-couldn’t-happen-to-a-better-guy-happy. Congratulations, Justin. You make me proud to have Detroit pride (oxymoron? Maybe.). And yeah, you’re kind of awesome yourself.
Keep it up, kiddo.
Papelbon to the Phillies was announced officially today.
(Do I use those eyes too much? Well, of course I do. But then again, I am so bemused most the time that they are the only way to express my emotions. A picture speaks a thousand words and all that.)
It’s a boatload of money and a boatload of years. You want specifics? Fine, more specifically, it’s four years, 60 million. For Papelbon. Yeah. That makes sense, right? I don’t meant to question the wonderfulness of Rubén Amaro Jr. or anything like that, but I personally would pay that kind of money to send Papelbon elsewhere- anywhere else than my team. Still, if he was going to leave, him and dem Phils were probably a match made in heaven. Okay, yes, I kinda really don’t dig Jonathan. That much is clear.
But does he like cheesesteaks, I wonder?
(Sorry, terribly, necessary joke.)
Anyhow, my whole thing from last year about being willing to get stuffed into someone’s suitcase to go the General Manger meetings still stands true.
I mean, don’t endless talks about labor plans and the ‘Stros moving leagues- will they? Won’t they? Will they? Won’t they?- sound absolutely riveting?
(Not, that is.)
Then again, I would dearly love to be there when Jon Daniels is named Executive of the Year.
Because he will.
He most definitely will.
Or else… there will be consequences. Dire ones.
p.s. And, oh, Dodgers? Not to question your brilliance either, but do you really- and I mean really- want Kemp for so many billions of years? Think carefully. Yes, there is a right answer. Yes, you are totally being tested.
Let’s do a li’l poll today, shall we?
After we went on Daylight Savings, everyone asked, What are you doing with the extra hour? But baseball fans know that after the season comes to a close, the question is, What are you going to do with extra three hours? The three hours you would have spent listening to/watching/following with bitten nails The Game of that day.
Every year it’s different for me. As of yet (thankfully) I have not taken up knitting or potholder weaving or anything like, but I have started to actually read things I’ve been meaning to read for… a while.
Yesterday, as I got to the end of a book, I actually found myself wondering why, after all these months, I was finally reading this book, and then realized that it is, of course, due to the offseason.
But enough about me (okay, it’s never enough about me, but let’s just pretend it is for the time being).
Or are you just spending a million hours a day on baseball trade rumor websites? Because if so, I’d like to inform you that experts have concluded that is really not good for your mental health, so I suggest you cease and desist on that. Then again, if your Twitter feed becomes overrun with boxing talk like it did for me last night, it might be the only way to stay sane. Paradoxes, paradoxes.