Monthly Archives: September 2012

I Made Cupcakes

Of course I did.  It’s Bilbo Baggins’ birthday (therefore, fellow geeks, Frodo’s too) and it’s also the Giants you-know what day.

The game starts in under two hours, so I won’t keep you.  Go make some cupcakes of your own and enjoy today because it’s going to be legen(waitforit)dary.

 

Diamond Girl

 

p.s.  When I made this photo my profile picture a year ago or so, I was obviously just doing the Magic Number 1 before it was cool, because I’m a hipster like that.

 

 

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Wanted: A “No Comment” Blimp

It’s that time of year again!  What time of year, you ask?  That very special time, I say, when a million odd Giants fans opinions are worth as much as one Barry Zito opinion.  I’m talking about the Willie Mac Award, of course.  The recipient of the award will be announced tonight (spoiler alert: it’s Buster) and the fan vote tallies to one vote, vs. all the players who get a vote apiece.  I’m of the opinion that they should just not let the fans vote at all if they’re going to be so stingy about.  Why one vote?  Why not three, in honor of – you guessed it – the magic number?

All kidding aside, I’m kind of jittery going into this series against the Padres.  (It’s the Padres.  Who am I kidding?)  Jittery in a good way.  Jittery in a they-don’t-even-have-Jed-anymore way.  I’m going to need to stockpile more blood orange San Pellegrino for the *coughjinxcough* potential big moment this weekend.  Can you believe we’re that close to a champagne party?  Didn’t the season just start?

Not to dampen the mood, but it was also announced today that Melky has become ineligible to win the batting title.  He wasn’t exactly eligible to begin with, but through some loopholes he was and… now he’s not again.  Confusing, I know.  The story is that Melky requested not to be eligible because of his image issues or whatever (I think his image issues run a little deeper, but he knows better than I do) and MLB granted the request.  (Bud Selig was all, “We have a second wildcard.  My life is compete.  Do what you want, interns.”)

The MLB web team is evidently too busy making their Twitter account private and then public and then private again and then public again to update the batting average list.

I’m not sure how I feel about this.  Melky took performance-enhancing drugs.  It should be a simple answer, probably: he’s not eligible.  But I don’t necessarily feel that way.  There are so many tainted records and awards in the history of baseball that this move feels fairly arbitrary.  It doesn’t change my opinion of Melky either way.  I don’t think he’s the only one doing it, so I don’t have a particular amount of distaste for him.  I understand why he’d want to be out of the running for the title, but the whole situation is just icky.  I’m not sure what would have been the best path to take with this, but I do know that whoever does end up landing the batting title is going to be fielding a whole lotta questions.  If I were him, I’d start stocking up on the “No comment” t-shirts/blimps right about now.

Must go prepare for Orange Friday.  Catch you all later.

Diamond Girls

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Just 3.

This post was all ready to go with the number 4, but then I went to eat dinner – it was pasta and yes, it was delicious, thanks for asking – and when I came back, the magic number was 3.  Which was an awesome end to an awesome dinner.

Also, Pablo Sandoval.  And since this state of perpetual winning has reduced me to a non-verbal state, a Kung Fu Panda GIF.  (Incidentally, I don’t care what people say.  GIF is pronounced as an acronym with a hard G.  It just is.)

Diamond Girl

p.s.  Kidding about the non-verbal state.  My family wishes, but…

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What James Bond Has to Say About All This

 

(Kinda.)

Diamond Girl

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A Totally Theoretical Cliff Lee

(First a PSA:  If you so happen to write a blog or just be in possession of a computer – which I assume you are, if you’re reading this and you’re not an alien reading it on a cool, futuristic bot thing – don’t try at home what I’m doing right now.  That is, balancing a laptop and an extremely full and extremely hot mug of orange tea.  However, getting this tea will change your life, so I do recommend that.)

Anyhow, I spent yesterday at the beach, mediating on the meaning of life and singing Western States Motel songs at the top of my lungs and when I got home, it was all Giants game time.  It did not disappoint.  I mean, it did in some ways, but the team did what we’ve come to expect over the past several weeks and they pulled out a win, even though Madison was not nearly at his best and even though it took a million and one relief pitchers.  They didn’t tear it up with the bats, either, but in case I’ve failed to mention it before, 2-1 games are my very most favoritest.  (Yes, I am of the opinion that for every time we shave a number off of the magic number, I get to use another made-up word.)  2-1 where the Giants win, of course.

It’s a strange time around Major League Baseball, with the second wildcard – which. is. not. wild. – weirdness and all sorts of teams that are in no way, shape or rational form in contention being… in contention.  I feel like if I were (totally theoretically) on one of those teams I would feel a little trippy about this whole thing.  “Man, we’re 74-74 and we might get into the playoffs?  Duuuude,” says Totally Theoretical Cliff Lee.

Or maybe the players aren’t saying that kind of things at all.  Maybe they’re too busy sending flowers to Bud Selig to talk about that stuff.

My tea is completely cold by now, so that’s probably my cue to end this.  Terribly excited for the game tonight.  Isn’t this playoff race wondrous in that it’s not totallycompletely a race anymore?  I did not enjoy this part of the 2010 season at all.  We have a little more wiggle room right about now.  And it’s magical.  (Inside.  Outside.  Everywhere.)

Diamond Girl

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