Tag Archives: mvp

Catch-Up Time

Sorry for my absence!  I’ve been sick and going through prolonged baseball withdrawal, which is not a good combination.  (Also been eating a lot of cranberry chocolate, which is pretty much the greatest thing currently on Planet Earth.)

I know what you’re thinking, but you need to go buy your own.  You can’t have mine.

But I am back and ready to tackle some big things like the fact that every single MLB player is fleeing to the Blue Jays and also that our very own Buster Posey was named Most Valuable Player.

We knew he was most valuable.  But it’s still pretty marvelous for everyone else to confirm it.  We are very lucky to have Buster in San Francisco and while it’s faded from memory now, it really wasn’t a given that he’d be back every day after his injury in 2011.  There was a lot of uncertainty that his mammoth season just about wiped out, but it’s incredible all the same.  Congratulations, Buster.

The American League was a bit of a murkier prospect.  Much was made of the Mike Trout vs. Miguel Cabrera thing and there were more than a few outraged baseball fans when Cabrera took the award in what ended up being not a very close race at all.  And I was annoyed by that.  Because frankly, what it came down to was one very good baseball player vs. another very good baseball player.  I saw Trout play in Anaheim and he was amazing to watch.  I’ve never personally seen Cabrera play, but I have no doubt he is amazing as well.

I would venture to say that this wasn’t all about advanced statistics and sabermetrics; I think as the arguments went on, Cabrera came to signify old school and Trout, new school, in some people’s minds and while that’s fine, it sort of defeats the original argument that these decisions should be entirely based on advanced stats.

I also have to what the point is of an award that is voted on by people if those people are all going to vote based on a certain stat sheet – which stats are important to different people?  I have always thought the point of the BWAA awards was that writers who see these players every day make judgment calls.   A judgment call cannot, really, be right or wrong.  The writers picked the person they picked and ultimately, he’s one of the best players in the game right now.  End of story.

But were you all on Team Trout or Team Cabrera?  Maybe they should have just named Buster Posey Most Valuable Player in the League, People, Deal With It and left it at that.  Much less controversy.

Diamond Girl

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And I Am Not Making This Up

Yu Darvish was named a finalist for the AL Rookie of the Year award this evening.

Photo proof.  It’s for reals.  I’m not making this up, guys.  You can read about it ici.

That is all.  Thank you, ladies and gentleman, and good night.

Diamond Girl

p.s.  Oh, and Buster Posey was named a finalist for MVP.  Butweallknewthatwasgoingtohappen.

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I Will Keep Adding To This Photo…

…until the Brewers finish paying Ryan Braun in 2030.  Or sometime close to that.  (Original loving u, Ryan Braun, story is here, in case you missed it.)

September 2010

October 2011

 

November 2011

I think I would have gotten a manicure if I had known how many times I would repeat this picture.

Diamond Girl

p.s.  Oh, yeah.  Congratulations to Ryan on his fabulous, awesome, wonderful MVP victory.  I am happy Pooh Be—that is, Diamond Girl today.

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One Tough Act to Follow

(How cheesy is it to use an Eminem line when talking about a Detroit ballplayer?  Very cheesy indeed.)

Verlander.  One tough act to follow, no doubt about it.

Not only is he funny and sweet and humble, he also won 20+ games, went to the ALCS and then won the American League MVP today, backing up his Cy Young Award win last week.  First pitcher to do it since 1986.  (Cue the googly eyes.)

Whoa.  Whew.  And other expressions of surprise and admiration that begin with “W”.

Congratulations to Justin and the Tigers and the city of Detroit and Marshall Mathers, III, while we’re at it.  And Chrysler.  And Ford.  Actually, not Ford.  They make hideous cars.  Just Justin and the Tigers.

But can I just get all critical here, though, and suggest how mega-ly dramatic this all would have been a red carpet show?  I think I’ve said this before.  In fact, I’m sure I have.  But really, picture it.  Baseball players in wonderful silver suits and funny presenters- like, yes, myself- and major drama, camera-cutting-from-face-to-face as the announced the award winners.

Some crocodile tears wouldn’t be too bad either.

And hey, if you can get someone who happens to be Jennifer Lopez to wear a sparkly bodysuit and drive around in a weird car on stage?  That’s even better.

But why or why or why do the Rangers insist on Neftali starting and then put a knife to his back and make him pretend to like it (looking at you, Jon Daniels Knife Bearer)?  Speaking of drama.

Diamond Girl

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This One Has a Short Title: Blissful Ignorance.

You know what’s a completely surreal feeling?  Sitting in a dark concert, having fasted from internet or radio for going-on-four hours so as not to know the World Series outcome, watching a performer who I am still somewhat convinced is a demi-god.  And yet knowing that someone is already the World Champion.  That it’s been decided.  That the series is over.  It was a lot more of an interesting psychological experiment than I meant it to be.  I was actually just caught in an epic overbooking of myself.

Allow me to explain!

I bought those concert tickets long before Game 7 was on the radar screen and travelled to Los Angeles for it.  For a second (okay, more than a second) I considered playing hookey but I ended up going and yeah, the singer, Philippe Jaroussky, was all demi-god-ish and brilliant and sang three encores and I swooned and got his autograph (it’s perfectness is slightly decreased by the fact that it says, “To Emily” not “To Diamond Girl”, but he was French and I didn’t want him thinking Americans normally have names like Diamond Girl, so…) and was more than, much more than, glad that I went.

So I then plugged my ears, did not turn on my iPod or talk to anyone, spent two hours in LA traffic (I am gritting my teeth together at the thought) and then, around midnight, turned on my television and speed watched the game, through the seventh inning.  At which point, by some strange luck, the DVR informed me that the recording had ended, because it conflicted with a taping of Grey’s Anatomy Desperate Housewives of Kansas.  Or something.  So after swirling my ice water around in my glass and screaming at the screen for a minute, I took a deep breath and checked my trusty At Bat App.

And my blissful ignorance went up in a cloud of Southern California smog.

I stared for a good long moment.  And then for a few more good long moments.  I tried to muster some congratulatory feelings towards St. Louis, but they didn’t really flow easily.  Even more so when I saw David Freese getting his hip little sports car.  I am going to need a little while to get over this one.

But yeah, congratulations to the Cardinals.  Because really, they had an amazing, bizarre year and Showtime now has a darn perfect team to follow next year.  And Texas put up a heck of a fight.  It was a dramatic, basically well-played series overall and both teams are really, truly great.

And now the season is over.  That’s the part I can’t get over.  I keep expecting there to just be another game, another anything, but there isn’t.  Free agency kicks in pretty soon, the Hot Stove is heating up and we have a million and one Giants and Rangers topics to break down and beard choices to dissect.

So this is where I say thank you all for following this year and all that jazz and wonderfulness.   Let’s comfort each other at this difficult time.  I, for my part, promise frequent offseason posts, in between Philippe videos, and photos of my blue Coraline hair on Halloween.  Because I know you totally want to see it.

Xs and Os, my friends.  Xs and Os.  We can survive these months together.  Listen to Aubrey Huff sing, for starters.

Diamond Girl

p.s.  Tip of the day: all you need to get into a snazzy, members-only lounge with brazed lamb chops and a bunch of desserts and the best coffee in the greater Los Angeles area and candlelit tables without paying is an adorable little brother.  I mean, it worked for me.  And it was awesome.  That is what I will be meditating on in the cold winter days to come.

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