Monthly Archives: January 2012

And Diogenes of Sinope Thought He Was a Cynic…

Well, he probably was.  He lived in a tub on the streets of Athens, for goodness’ sake.   That should probably be enough to earn him the title of Certified Cynic.

But the Ultimate Certified Cynic?  (Who is, perhaps by coincidence, also the Ultimate Tim Lincecum Fan?)

No, she came about 2397 years later.  Her name was Diamond Girl.  And she had a dual personality, part of which was very optimistic and nice and rooted for Joey Martinez to have a huge comeback and win a Cy Young Award and the other part of which was… skeptical of Ryan Vogelsong.  Very skeptical.  You can lynch me now, Giants fans.

It’s not that I don’t want to root for Vogelsong.  He’s a completely root-worthy guy and a darn good pitcher, too, but I can’t help wondering if the terrible baseball word “fluke” is at play here (that would be, fluke).  Which is awfully cynical of me, but there you have it.

And that’s why when I heard about the two year, $8.3 million the Giants gave him earlier this week, I felt torn.  Vogelsong has earned that security fair and square and I don’t doubt that he deserves the deal.  I think I just feel that, in some way, this is a sentimental deal on the part of Sabes et al.  Good stories only go so far and that’s not very far at all, when we’re talking about the actual playing field.

But you know what?  I hope that he comes out over the next two years and completely proves my skepticism wrong and tears it up.  Because that would be a good story.  And I am rooting for it, in truth.

Forget it, Diogenes of Sinope can have the Ultimate Cynic title back.  I am softie at heart.

Diamond Girl

p.s.  You should still sign my petition to help me become the new commish of Major League Baseball.  And make all your friends, too.  Tempt them with chocolate fudge.  Trust me, it works.

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10 Things I Promise If You Make Me Commissioner of Major League Baseball

We need to talk about Bud.  Yes, that is a play on the weird horror-ish indie movie that is making waves right now with Tilda Swinton, We Need to Talk About Kevin.  It’s about a… serial killer.  Kid.  Teen.  I think.  Something like that.

Slightly unfair, seeing as Bud is not (that I know of) a serial killer kid person, but he is, well, a commissioner who won’t go away.

So not completely unfair.

Look, I don’t want to seem ungrateful.  I understand that Selig has done many fabulous things for Major League Baseball and is passing up the awesome opportunity to teach at the University of Wisconsin to (probably) keep being commissioner for a couple more years, but still.  Really?  Two more years of this at 20 million a pop (year)? 

I mean, I could do the job for a tiny fraction of that cost and probably make everyone happier while I’m at it.  No offense, Selig.  I have serious respect for you.  There is just… shall we say, too much of a good thing.  Yeah.  That’s it.

So!  10 reasons I would make a fabulous commissioner!

10.  I promise there will be a chicken in every dugout.  Live.  And squawking.  Take that, Herbert Hoover.  You were just one-upped.

9.  I promise to swiftly and promptly discard any idea of the commissioner being out of touch by having one of those nine hour meet-and-greets a la Taylor Swift.  Hey, she’s pretty darn popular.  And We All Belong With Her and she is not Mean.  (So punny, I know.)

8.  I promise that whoever wants a new stadium will get one.  Seriously.  We’ll fund them with bake sales and car washes and all that and I also got this idea from some homeless people I saw the other day to give away friendship bracelets on the street with a humble sign asking for donations.  People melt.  Such is the power of friendship bracelets.  A’s, you are getting new stadium!

7.  I promise to kiss lotsa babies and shake lotsa hands.  Granted.  Next, please.

6.  I promise to only love u, Ryan Braun from afar, so as not to seem all Brewer sympathetic.  Gotta learn from your predecessors, people.

5.  I promise that my first action will be to unequivocally ban the hideous rainbow uniforms that the Marlins are currently plotting to don next season.  You are goin’ down, hideous unis.  The End.

4.  I promise to do weekly web streams where you (my minions, that is) can all submit questions via chat, Twitter, Facebook, whatever.  There will also be prizes.  Cracker jacks.  Stuff like that.  It will be fun.  (Maybe.)

3.  I promise that I will not go by a silly nickname.  Looking at you, Bud.  (FYI, Diamond Girl does not count as silly.  Just to be clear on that.)

2.  I promise to be the first commissioner to have a Twitter.  @AwesomeCommissioner or something like that.  Hashtag parties will ensue, rest assured.

1.  I promise to be a completely fab commissioner and retire at a (semi) reasonable time. 

M’kay?  Sound good? 

No need to answer that one.  I know it sounds super good.

I’m decided to make this official and made a petition, in fact, that you can sign right here:

http://www.gopetition.com/petitions/emily-for-commissioner.html

If you want me as the new Major League Commissioner, sign it, pass it along to your fabulous friends and let’s do this thing!

Diamond Girl

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Time is Ticking

I get equal parts very nervous and very excited when people rattle off their Spring Training countdowns.  (According to a website I recently discovered called www.springtrainingcountdown.com) it’s currently at 40 days, 9 hours, 35 minutes and 25 seconds.)

Excited?  Need I say why?

Nervous?  Yes, I should probably say why.  Why: because time is ticking.

(Incidentally, you should maybe/probably/definitely watch the clip that the above screenshots are from here, because Alice in Wonderland, 2010 version, is one of the most wonderful movies you are ever likely to see in your lifetime.  Not to mention, it has provided some pretty good material for my blog.)

To put it frankly, every hour we get closer to Spring Training makes the magic of the offseason-anything-can-happen vibe fade a little.  Really, we don’t even need the time and day to tell us that.  The Giants management hasn’t been any sort of epitome of subtle and the likelihood is that we’ll be setting up camp in Arizona in a month or so with the guys we have at this moment.  They’ve said that.

Which is, of course, not entirely bad.  And I am partly excited about this upcoming year.  I’m particularly excited to see Freddy Sanchez back in action and Melky Cabrera donning the orange and black and even if it’s not spectacular baseball, it’s baseball.  Baseball = good.  You knew that. 

It’s really the mindset, probably, that’s messing with me.  My mindset is still firmly placed in winter (because if I let it move on, hey, I wouldn’t get to make hot chocolate all the time) and the notion of starting the season up again makes me all squirmy and squeamish.  Until I convince myself that smoothies are as good as hot chocolate, I will probably not be able to muster an appropriate amount of excitement for Catchers and Pitchers Reportin’ Day.

This is just proof that I almost as bad at being a beginning-of-the-season-fan as  I am at being an end-of-the-season-fan.

Offseason of Hope, stay with me a little longer will you?

And bring your buddy Hot Chocolate too, please.  He’s rather nice.

Diamond Girl

p.s.  Believe me when I say I was tossing the idea for this blog post around in my head before the Obama/Alice in Wonderland party fiasco hit the news.  Which is to say I am either totally a trendsetter or far too obsessed with Tim Burton films.  The only thing I’m annoyed with Obama about right now is that I was not invited to aforementioned party.

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The Giants Did God-Only-Knows-Whatever-They-Do-All-Offseason

Before I get all snarky, I’d like to thank you all once more for reading.  The MLBlogs Top Blogs of 2011 list came out and I’m at #9 which is one of those things that makes me grin like silly for an incredibly extended period of time.  Not quite as much as aforementioned delicious coffee ice cream, but almost.  Almost.

Congratulations to everyone else who made the list and a semi-apologetic hug to anyone who didn’t.  Keep at it, bloggers, and things will fall into place, trust me.  (Trusting me is probably-actually not a smart idea, but hey, you could try and see what happens.)

Anyhow!  Let’s flip the calendar back to January 3rd, 2011, when I posted this:

“The Giants did God-only-knows-whatever-they-do-all-offseason.”

“Looks like it’s boring for Sabean too.”

This is the kind of thing that transcends time, my friends, because it is just as apt now as it was then.  Also, that ring?  Gives “absolutely atrocious” a whole new meaning.

In other news, whoever said Google Translate is unhelpful has obviously never been in love with Ryan Braun.

Unfortunately, the voice recognition thing do not catch the “u” instead of “you”, but they did spell Brauny’s name right, so I probably shouldn’t be complaining.

Diamond Girl

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Why I Am Stoked About the Dodgers

I am stoked about the Dodgers!  Which is weird, seeing as me + Dodgers = extremely bad match.

But this news that Torre may be making an attempt at buying the Dodgers?   That is more than enough to be stoked about.  Fantastic news, my friends.

I mean, it means we won’t get to see him every five seconds doing interviews during postseason rain delays as a rep for MLB (which was completely fun) but it does mean that we may have a very villainous, loathe-worthy Dodger owner in the foreseeable future!

Loathing McCourt doesn’t feel right, because even hardcore Dodger fans mostly loathe him.  Not an arguing piece.

Torre?

Absolutely dripping with Dodger blue terribleness.

In addition to which, it would make the rivalry more fun again and all that because we’d actually (hopefully) have a driven organization to compete against.  Assuming we are actually competing.  Which, with Baer the Evil Usurper in charge, is vaguely doubtful.

Speaking of which… has the offseason gotten eerily quiet lately or has the offseason gotten eerily quiet lately?  Sabean has either pricked his finger on a spindle and fallen asleep for 100 years (that is, until Spring Training) or Baer has a knife to his back and is all, “Do not make any moves, my young Padawan!”

Yes, I think Baer totally speaks Star Wars talk.

And no, I do not know if Sabes is actually younger than Baer, so the “young Padawan” thing is probably a little weird.

Yes, I could just Google it and be Creepy Stalker Diamond Girl and find both their birthdates, but you wouldn’t want to make me do that and keep me from the delicious coffee ice cream I am about to eat, now would you?

I thought not.

Diamond Girl

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