We here at Greg and Yoshi rarely post blogs pertaining to things non-Red Sox. Heck, we rarely post blogs at all. But something bit us in the Groshi tonight and we couldn't refuse sounding off.
Ryan Braun, the 2011 National League MVP tested positive for steroids. He faces a 50 game suspension unless he can prove that he was not at fault for ingesting the 'roids -- i.e., there was no possible way he could've known he took 'em. No matter the results, Greg and Yoshi are the first to call bullshit!
Fact -- 'roids make you stronger. Fact -- 'roids make your body recover faster. Fact -- you take 'roids so that your body functions better.
We've discussed logic on this blog before, so you know we're experts. What are the odds that you are a major league baseball player and you just happen to take 'roids, the one illegal thing that will make you do your job so much better? We might be logic experts but that doesn't make us statisticians. But let's assume the odds are not in your favor. Now, add another premise to those odds -- You also win the league MVP. Whoa!!!!! One word -- Guilty Ass Mother--Who? Braun.
Ryan Braun --- As ODB said -- Shame on a Brewer! Dude, you're talented. You're rich. You're a major league ballplayer. You came up in the minors at a time when minor leaguers were being tested. So you made it to the majors without 'roids. You succeeded immediately. Then you start taking 'roids? How come major league baseball players don't mistakenly take study hall? If they did, they might have the sense to stop doing stupid shoishit like taking 'roids.
Peace and happy holidays for Greg and Yoshi.
ps -- We're gonna big in 2012 so make sure to keep an eye out.
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Friday, April 22, 2011
Rebounding from Rock Bottom
This will be the last blog I write with Boston in last place. Aside from the bad news I received recently regarding Yoshi, things appear to be on the up and up. The Red Sox are... wait, what's that? What's the bad news I received? Well, it turns out Yoshi is cheating on me. My partner has been playing in a fantasy baseball league behind my back. You know how it goes, first you start getting cryptic messages then you find out somebody named Pete invited your Yoshi to join his "fantasy baseball league."
Sadness. Betrayal. Cocaine and Mafia wars. No, I didn't just finish watching the Italian film "Gomorrah"; I just found out why Yoshi is hip to comprehensive MLB statistics and transactions (minus the cocaine and Mafia wars).
When you play fantasy baseball, you track how every player is performing. What random players did I draft, who are performing amazingly well in the first few weeks, can I package together and trade to the nitwit invited into the league who was luckily awarded the first pick and who inadvertently drafted the great Tim Lincecum? A schemer. That's what I'm dealing with. What about you? Look for parallels in your spouse or significant other. I hope you don't find any.
Not to say it's been all bad. I only get the good Yoshi: insightful data analysis, who's doing what where, and possible transactions to look out for. Basically, he's been perfect. No griping. No, "Why do you wait three weeks in between each blog?" Or, "Have you heard of grammar? Try using some every once in a while." Instead, all I get is, "...I know, I totally agree. The Red Sox should trade Carl Crawford for Starlin Castro." Which was a joke Yoshi! When you said "yes" my ears should've perked up. Humor is not your thing. Of course I had no idea that he was a shortstop phenom; but you did. You did because you've been following him behind my back in your secret fantasy baseball league!
So no, I won't write another blog while the Red Sox are in last place because they will win tomorrow, the Blue Jays will lose, and they will be tied for fourth (kind of the same as last place, but only if you are a pessimist). And no, I will not live in the dark anymore. If Yoshi wants to play ball with Pete, I won't stand in his way. Just as long as Pete knows that Yoshi is only using him as an avenue to gather in depth analysis so he can contribute greater insight to what we started: Greg and Yoshi Talk about the Red Sox (and don't mention that asshole Pete).
Sadness. Betrayal. Cocaine and Mafia wars. No, I didn't just finish watching the Italian film "Gomorrah"; I just found out why Yoshi is hip to comprehensive MLB statistics and transactions (minus the cocaine and Mafia wars).
When you play fantasy baseball, you track how every player is performing. What random players did I draft, who are performing amazingly well in the first few weeks, can I package together and trade to the nitwit invited into the league who was luckily awarded the first pick and who inadvertently drafted the great Tim Lincecum? A schemer. That's what I'm dealing with. What about you? Look for parallels in your spouse or significant other. I hope you don't find any.
Not to say it's been all bad. I only get the good Yoshi: insightful data analysis, who's doing what where, and possible transactions to look out for. Basically, he's been perfect. No griping. No, "Why do you wait three weeks in between each blog?" Or, "Have you heard of grammar? Try using some every once in a while." Instead, all I get is, "...I know, I totally agree. The Red Sox should trade Carl Crawford for Starlin Castro." Which was a joke Yoshi! When you said "yes" my ears should've perked up. Humor is not your thing. Of course I had no idea that he was a shortstop phenom; but you did. You did because you've been following him behind my back in your secret fantasy baseball league!
So no, I won't write another blog while the Red Sox are in last place because they will win tomorrow, the Blue Jays will lose, and they will be tied for fourth (kind of the same as last place, but only if you are a pessimist). And no, I will not live in the dark anymore. If Yoshi wants to play ball with Pete, I won't stand in his way. Just as long as Pete knows that Yoshi is only using him as an avenue to gather in depth analysis so he can contribute greater insight to what we started: Greg and Yoshi Talk about the Red Sox (and don't mention that asshole Pete).
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Balance
The Sox lost on their first game. Some players played well and others not so much. Oh well. No biggie. Greg and Yoshi give 'em a mulligan. Just better not happen again, boys, or Yoshi's bright idea to order 2,000 161-1 tee shirts won't look so bright. Why did he want 2,000? No idea. When I asked Yoshi all he gave me was: __________________________ -- which is the closest I can get to expressing a blank stare with words.
Speaking of blank stares, that's what my assistant got when he showed me this quote from today's Boston Globe:
“Do you believe in the Baseball God? Do you know what the Baseball God is? Sometimes things happen just to show the world that this ain’t easy. Not to him. Just to the whole world. This game doesn’t come easy. You’ve got to keep working and be consistent in the long run, which is going to happen with him.’’
It's not 100% clear, but we think David Ortiz said it in defense of Carl Crawford's opening day performance. David, David, David... no one thinks baseball is easy. Baseball is hard. And what's even harder? Being skilled and talented enough to compete against the most skilled and talented. We who criticize do so because we are not good enough to compete. Hence, A-Rod and Jeter don't have a rad blog with a killer name like: "Alex and Derek talk about the Red Sox". Instead, they perform day in and day out so we can point out the similarities between A-Rod's career and A-Rod's girlfriend, Cameron Diaz: they're both past their prime.
Balance is important. Without it, chaos and unrest ensue. Based on the amount of unrest in the world -- human and environmental -- we don't need anymore un-balance.
Yoshi said it best: "For the fan, baseball lives and breaths in his fantasy mind. He believes that if he didn't have to go to work everyday and pay bills, he would be on the diamond, April through October, playing ball for the Red Sox. But since he has other obligations, he sends players to do his work by proxy. Therefore, the fan's relationship to his team is to monitor the players who are doing the job he would otherwise being doing and hold them accountable for their performances."
So David, rather than making an attempt to appeal to our rational mind, stick to targeting our emotions. If you start sucking and have only one HR at the All-Star Break, blame the sun. Blame us for not supporting you. Blame Yoshi. But don't use the sport's inherent difficulty as an excuse. Don't break the fourth wall. The last thing we want to think when you step to the plate is that you think what you are attempting to do is hard. If you fail, we will criticize you and call you mean names. We'll be downright vicious. But it's just us holding you accountable. If we didn't, we wouldn't be able to claim responsibility for when you fix your game and start lunching bombs like a rebel in a no-fly zone. You're right -- it's not fair. But it's the reality of our relationship. You get to play baseball and we worry about everything else. Balance.
Speaking of blank stares, that's what my assistant got when he showed me this quote from today's Boston Globe:
“Do you believe in the Baseball God? Do you know what the Baseball God is? Sometimes things happen just to show the world that this ain’t easy. Not to him. Just to the whole world. This game doesn’t come easy. You’ve got to keep working and be consistent in the long run, which is going to happen with him.’’
It's not 100% clear, but we think David Ortiz said it in defense of Carl Crawford's opening day performance. David, David, David... no one thinks baseball is easy. Baseball is hard. And what's even harder? Being skilled and talented enough to compete against the most skilled and talented. We who criticize do so because we are not good enough to compete. Hence, A-Rod and Jeter don't have a rad blog with a killer name like: "Alex and Derek talk about the Red Sox". Instead, they perform day in and day out so we can point out the similarities between A-Rod's career and A-Rod's girlfriend, Cameron Diaz: they're both past their prime.
Balance is important. Without it, chaos and unrest ensue. Based on the amount of unrest in the world -- human and environmental -- we don't need anymore un-balance.
Yoshi said it best: "For the fan, baseball lives and breaths in his fantasy mind. He believes that if he didn't have to go to work everyday and pay bills, he would be on the diamond, April through October, playing ball for the Red Sox. But since he has other obligations, he sends players to do his work by proxy. Therefore, the fan's relationship to his team is to monitor the players who are doing the job he would otherwise being doing and hold them accountable for their performances."
So David, rather than making an attempt to appeal to our rational mind, stick to targeting our emotions. If you start sucking and have only one HR at the All-Star Break, blame the sun. Blame us for not supporting you. Blame Yoshi. But don't use the sport's inherent difficulty as an excuse. Don't break the fourth wall. The last thing we want to think when you step to the plate is that you think what you are attempting to do is hard. If you fail, we will criticize you and call you mean names. We'll be downright vicious. But it's just us holding you accountable. If we didn't, we wouldn't be able to claim responsibility for when you fix your game and start lunching bombs like a rebel in a no-fly zone. You're right -- it's not fair. But it's the reality of our relationship. You get to play baseball and we worry about everything else. Balance.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Lee "Ino Guerrero" Oswald
I was hit in the face with a baseball while a guest at my friend Ryan Shannon's 6th birthday. To be clear, I was 5 at the time. Aside from being cool enough to hang with the older crowd, with the application of steady pressure and an ice pack wrapped in a dishcloth, I was back on my feet and ready to go by the time my mom picked me up. I cried when it happened. I'm man enough to admit it. I also broke the legs on the kid who threw the ball. He was 18 years old, 6' 3", 285 lbs. But that's not important. What is important is that I recovered fully and eventually went on to be named a Rhodes Scholar.
Josh Beckett was clipped in the head yesterday by a bonehead coach wielding a fungo bat. For those of you unfamiliar with one, a fungo bat is an oddly shaped, light weight bat, designed to offer coaches greater accuracy and ease while hitting ground balls and fly balls to players during fielding practice. Obviously, Ino Guerrero was trying to kill Josh Beckett. The question is: Why?
Cary once pegged a telephone pole with a baseball unintentionally during a little league game. But that's not important. What is important, however, is that Josh Beckett predicted that the Sox are going to win 100 games this season. I'm not positive he said that because "Greg and Yoshi" had to lay off our research team. Not because of the economy, but because we realized that when we pay fewer people, including insurance companies and utilities, we get to keep more money for ourselves. It is also why we cancelled the "Little Yoshi Sports Foundation" which awarded scholarships to Japanese immigrants who exhibit excellent skills in mathematics and baseball. It's called greed. Get some! But to get back to what I was saying, without researchers, we -- and by we I mean "I" since Yoshi refuses to contribute so much as a spell check to this blog -- am left to fabricate every detail of every story that is posted on this blog. Please don't quote us (me) unless you're trying to pick up chicks. Then, it's like liquid gold.
So Cary pegged this pole, everyone laughed, except me who was embarrassed because I just saw my older brother, the person I was supposed to look up to and learn from, humiliate himself and our family in front of the entire Warwick branch of the the International Little League. But again, not important. What is, is the 100 wins prediction. If it were ever actually predicted, it would've been predicted predicated upon Beckett being healthy and pitching a few no-hitters and one or two perfect games. Or otherwise known by Vegas standards as a 'sure thing'. Well now, knowing that and knowing that Ino Guerrero had an off-season fueled by alcohol and poor betting practices -- practices that left him in the hole for exactly $1.632 million -- is it any surprise to learn that two weeks ago, two or three unsavory characters privy to Mr. Guerrero's off-season antics visited him in his driveway while he was working on his mint condition 1976 Thunderbird - the one with the racing stripe on it - and made a threatening demand?
They said, "Make it happen or else." To which Mr. Guerrero replied, "What?" The two or three unsavory characters looked at each other like, "Is this guy for real?" But what had happened was that Mr. Guerrero had not understood them. When the two or three unsavory characters made their demand, they each said the same sentence at the same time but with different cadences with alternating sequences of inflection. Mr. Guerrero, who was whistling the tune to "To Much Time on My Hands" by Styx and doesn't hear well to begin with, just didn't understand what they said when they said it. He was definitely not trying to give them a hard time. The two or three unsavory characters realized this and repeated themselves without delay. This time Mr. Guerrero understood them and knew exactly what the 'it' was they were referring to.
'It' was exactly that: Make sure the Red Sox don't win 100 games. Or otherwise known by Vegas standards as the opposite of a sure thing; which is i.e. a Big Pay Day. Now if it were me, I would've been driving my T-Bird instead of fixing it in my driveway for two reasons: 1.) I love to drive; and 2.) I don't know how to fix cars, especially '76 Thunderbirds. But Ino isn't me, and if I weren't me, I would go straight for my fungo bat. And that's exactly what Ino did. Unfortunately for Ino, he didn't consider what would happen if the crackpot team at Greg and Yoshi got a hold of the story and turned it out like a hooker in Bloemfontein.
Now Ino, the attempted murderer, is on the run. We call on you, the good people, the people who do good things, not like Ino Guerrero who tried to murder Josh Beckett with a fungo bat, to apprehend Mr. Guerrero and take him down like I did the 18 year old, 6' 8", 380 lbs. giant who purposely pegged me in the face with a baseball when I was only 8 years old. In other words, actually in the words of Lt. Aldo Raines, "We're gonna be dropped into France dressed as civilians...and I want my scalps. Sound good?" Go get 'em Gregandyoshiites!!
As a side note, although we think Ino Guerrero is a coward and attempted murderer, we wish him no harm. Even though we are both 3rd degree black belts and capable of kick'n copious amounts of ass, Greg and Yoshi preach pacifism. You can attend our seminars every Saturday at the Doc Fry Community Center in Madison, Wisconsin. Home of the 8 mile hell run. Good times.
Josh Beckett was clipped in the head yesterday by a bonehead coach wielding a fungo bat. For those of you unfamiliar with one, a fungo bat is an oddly shaped, light weight bat, designed to offer coaches greater accuracy and ease while hitting ground balls and fly balls to players during fielding practice. Obviously, Ino Guerrero was trying to kill Josh Beckett. The question is: Why?
Cary once pegged a telephone pole with a baseball unintentionally during a little league game. But that's not important. What is important, however, is that Josh Beckett predicted that the Sox are going to win 100 games this season. I'm not positive he said that because "Greg and Yoshi" had to lay off our research team. Not because of the economy, but because we realized that when we pay fewer people, including insurance companies and utilities, we get to keep more money for ourselves. It is also why we cancelled the "Little Yoshi Sports Foundation" which awarded scholarships to Japanese immigrants who exhibit excellent skills in mathematics and baseball. It's called greed. Get some! But to get back to what I was saying, without researchers, we -- and by we I mean "I" since Yoshi refuses to contribute so much as a spell check to this blog -- am left to fabricate every detail of every story that is posted on this blog. Please don't quote us (me) unless you're trying to pick up chicks. Then, it's like liquid gold.
So Cary pegged this pole, everyone laughed, except me who was embarrassed because I just saw my older brother, the person I was supposed to look up to and learn from, humiliate himself and our family in front of the entire Warwick branch of the the International Little League. But again, not important. What is, is the 100 wins prediction. If it were ever actually predicted, it would've been predicted predicated upon Beckett being healthy and pitching a few no-hitters and one or two perfect games. Or otherwise known by Vegas standards as a 'sure thing'. Well now, knowing that and knowing that Ino Guerrero had an off-season fueled by alcohol and poor betting practices -- practices that left him in the hole for exactly $1.632 million -- is it any surprise to learn that two weeks ago, two or three unsavory characters privy to Mr. Guerrero's off-season antics visited him in his driveway while he was working on his mint condition 1976 Thunderbird - the one with the racing stripe on it - and made a threatening demand?
They said, "Make it happen or else." To which Mr. Guerrero replied, "What?" The two or three unsavory characters looked at each other like, "Is this guy for real?" But what had happened was that Mr. Guerrero had not understood them. When the two or three unsavory characters made their demand, they each said the same sentence at the same time but with different cadences with alternating sequences of inflection. Mr. Guerrero, who was whistling the tune to "To Much Time on My Hands" by Styx and doesn't hear well to begin with, just didn't understand what they said when they said it. He was definitely not trying to give them a hard time. The two or three unsavory characters realized this and repeated themselves without delay. This time Mr. Guerrero understood them and knew exactly what the 'it' was they were referring to.
'It' was exactly that: Make sure the Red Sox don't win 100 games. Or otherwise known by Vegas standards as the opposite of a sure thing; which is i.e. a Big Pay Day. Now if it were me, I would've been driving my T-Bird instead of fixing it in my driveway for two reasons: 1.) I love to drive; and 2.) I don't know how to fix cars, especially '76 Thunderbirds. But Ino isn't me, and if I weren't me, I would go straight for my fungo bat. And that's exactly what Ino did. Unfortunately for Ino, he didn't consider what would happen if the crackpot team at Greg and Yoshi got a hold of the story and turned it out like a hooker in Bloemfontein.
Now Ino, the attempted murderer, is on the run. We call on you, the good people, the people who do good things, not like Ino Guerrero who tried to murder Josh Beckett with a fungo bat, to apprehend Mr. Guerrero and take him down like I did the 18 year old, 6' 8", 380 lbs. giant who purposely pegged me in the face with a baseball when I was only 8 years old. In other words, actually in the words of Lt. Aldo Raines, "We're gonna be dropped into France dressed as civilians...and I want my scalps. Sound good?" Go get 'em Gregandyoshiites!!
As a side note, although we think Ino Guerrero is a coward and attempted murderer, we wish him no harm. Even though we are both 3rd degree black belts and capable of kick'n copious amounts of ass, Greg and Yoshi preach pacifism. You can attend our seminars every Saturday at the Doc Fry Community Center in Madison, Wisconsin. Home of the 8 mile hell run. Good times.
Monday, February 21, 2011
This Time (as in Next Game) it's Personal (as in Personnel)
What does "Stomly Pimentel" mean to you? Until Yoshi told me he's the next big thing, I thought it was a spelling mistake. Stomly is slated to pitch against Boston College, my alma mater, on Feb 26. It was exciting to hear about Stomly. It was more exciting to hear from Yoshi. The most exciting thing would be to hear about Yoshi, but he doesn't talk about himself; which only makes him more interesting. He should sell Dos Equis.
Speaking of selling, I don't know if I'm buying this:
http://www.boston.com/sports/baseball/redsox/extras/extra_bases/2011/02/a-rod_loves_igl.html
What the blood clot? It's creepy. Things you don't do if you're a Yankee:
1. Pee standing up.
2. Finish Sudoku
3. Hangout with Red Sox players, then talk about how rad you think they are.
Numbers one and two need no further explanation. So let's dedicate a few thoughts to number three. A-Rod complementing a Red Sox player is like gushing about how awesome your ex-girlfriend's new boyfriend is. A-Rod complementing a Red Sox player is like using gasoline to extinguish a fire. A-Rod complementing a Red Sox player is like complementing Cary on his aim (ref:http://gregandyoshi.blogspot.com/2011/01/phew-adrian-gonzalez-can-throw.html). A-Rod complementing a Rod Sox player is like exactly what baseball doesn't need -- niceties being thrown back and forth between the greatest rivals in professional sports. In short, A-Rod complementing a Red Sox player is yet another example of how A-Rod is attempting to ruin baseball.
Yoshi wasn't there last Tuesday when I had dinner with my friend, Paul. Paul is from Boston. We never talk about the Red Sox. We're almost like Greg and Yoshi. But, then I heard something: Our (me and Yoshi) mutual friend, Scott, is having sessions with Yoshi. They're not talking about the Red Sox either, but they are talking. We're going to keep an eye on this.
I think that covers it. Great job Greg! Keep up the good work. We can't wait to see what's next.
Speaking of selling, I don't know if I'm buying this:
http://www.boston.com/sports/baseball/redsox/extras/extra_bases/2011/02/a-rod_loves_igl.html
What the blood clot? It's creepy. Things you don't do if you're a Yankee:
1. Pee standing up.
2. Finish Sudoku
3. Hangout with Red Sox players, then talk about how rad you think they are.
Numbers one and two need no further explanation. So let's dedicate a few thoughts to number three. A-Rod complementing a Red Sox player is like gushing about how awesome your ex-girlfriend's new boyfriend is. A-Rod complementing a Red Sox player is like using gasoline to extinguish a fire. A-Rod complementing a Red Sox player is like complementing Cary on his aim (ref:http://gregandyoshi.blogspot.com/2011/01/phew-adrian-gonzalez-can-throw.html). A-Rod complementing a Rod Sox player is like exactly what baseball doesn't need -- niceties being thrown back and forth between the greatest rivals in professional sports. In short, A-Rod complementing a Red Sox player is yet another example of how A-Rod is attempting to ruin baseball.
Yoshi wasn't there last Tuesday when I had dinner with my friend, Paul. Paul is from Boston. We never talk about the Red Sox. We're almost like Greg and Yoshi. But, then I heard something: Our (me and Yoshi) mutual friend, Scott, is having sessions with Yoshi. They're not talking about the Red Sox either, but they are talking. We're going to keep an eye on this.
I think that covers it. Great job Greg! Keep up the good work. We can't wait to see what's next.
Monday, January 24, 2011
The Logical Choice
If you work really hard in high school, then you go to Yale.
Ryan Lavarnway worked really hard in high school.
Ryan Lavarnway was drafted by the Red Sox.
-----------------------
Above is an example of modus ponens. If you don't know what modus ponens is, ask Ryan Lavarnway, the Red Sox catching prospect. He learned about it a Yale, where he studied philosophy. As if being a philosophy major at Yale wasn't evidence enough of his genius, he took it to the next level when he chose to play baseball for the Red Sox instead of returning for his senior year.
-----------------------
If a Yale diploma is better than Playing for the Red Sox, then you should return to Yale for your senior year.
A Yale diploma is not better than playing for the Red Sox.
You already proved your smart, now do something meaningful with your life (like play catcher for the Red Sox).
------------------------
Hey A-Rod, want to learn about modus tollens? Don't worry, Ryan will tell you all about it on your next trip to the plate. Next thing A-Rod (who didn't even go to college, let alone and Ivy League one) would hear? "Strike three!"
"Thank you, Ryan. I learned a lot during that at bat."
"You're welcome A-Rod. Now take a seat."
Don't be surprised when Robinson Cano show's up to hit with a wire-bound note book and a multi-color pen. "So Ryan, I was thinking about what you said in the third inning. But what does it mean to be virtuous?"
"What do you do after strike three?"
"Compliment Jon Lester on his cutter?"
"Why?"
"Because he just struck me out for the fourth time today?"
"Is that because of his cutter or because you were distracted by my banter?"
BOOM! Cano's mind coats the field and the Yankees scamble to replace their All-Star second baseman.
Ryan is still in the minors. He's working on his defense and pitch IQ. Coaches are quick to compliment his progress. The metaphysics of his mechanics will surely result in a potent dualistic catcher. Sorry Jarrod Saltalamacchia, time to pack for the trip to your next team.
(http://www.boston.com/sports/baseball/redsox/articles/2011/01/20/lavarnway_next_in_receiving_line/)
Ryan Lavarnway worked really hard in high school.
Ryan Lavarnway was drafted by the Red Sox.
-----------------------
Above is an example of modus ponens. If you don't know what modus ponens is, ask Ryan Lavarnway, the Red Sox catching prospect. He learned about it a Yale, where he studied philosophy. As if being a philosophy major at Yale wasn't evidence enough of his genius, he took it to the next level when he chose to play baseball for the Red Sox instead of returning for his senior year.
-----------------------
If a Yale diploma is better than Playing for the Red Sox, then you should return to Yale for your senior year.
A Yale diploma is not better than playing for the Red Sox.
You already proved your smart, now do something meaningful with your life (like play catcher for the Red Sox).
------------------------
Hey A-Rod, want to learn about modus tollens? Don't worry, Ryan will tell you all about it on your next trip to the plate. Next thing A-Rod (who didn't even go to college, let alone and Ivy League one) would hear? "Strike three!"
"Thank you, Ryan. I learned a lot during that at bat."
"You're welcome A-Rod. Now take a seat."
Don't be surprised when Robinson Cano show's up to hit with a wire-bound note book and a multi-color pen. "So Ryan, I was thinking about what you said in the third inning. But what does it mean to be virtuous?"
"What do you do after strike three?"
"Compliment Jon Lester on his cutter?"
"Why?"
"Because he just struck me out for the fourth time today?"
"Is that because of his cutter or because you were distracted by my banter?"
BOOM! Cano's mind coats the field and the Yankees scamble to replace their All-Star second baseman.
Ryan is still in the minors. He's working on his defense and pitch IQ. Coaches are quick to compliment his progress. The metaphysics of his mechanics will surely result in a potent dualistic catcher. Sorry Jarrod Saltalamacchia, time to pack for the trip to your next team.
(http://www.boston.com/sports/baseball/redsox/articles/2011/01/20/lavarnway_next_in_receiving_line/)
Friday, January 21, 2011
for the record
Yoshi and I have spoken little during the off season. Aside from a picture of a waffle he posted on Facebook yesterday which inspired a few comments, Yoshi has been silent. Bears hibernate. Maybe Yoshis do too. Or maybe Yoshi chooses to remain silent because there's nothing interesting to talk about.
Off season trades are done. Post season awards are done. Spring training starts in a month and all of baseball is focusing on one thing: vacation. But baseball writers have to justify their salaries so they kick out c-r-a-p stories like this (I recommend not clicking on the link because it's so boring): http://www.boston.com/sports/columnists/massarotti/2011/01/this_offseason_red_sox_owned_u.htmlhave . And that is what you'll never get at "Greg and Yoshi" -- meaningless drivel. You just won't see it here.
Here's some other stuff you won't see:
1. A video I made (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WRcAul7hMHo) of my Mom's kitty playing in a basket. Just won't see it. Not here. No matter how touching it is. This is Greg and Yoshi talk about the Red Sox not Greg and Yoshi Show Sweet Videos of Kitties Playing in Baskets.
2. Pictures of waffles. What Yoshi wants to do in his free time is his biz. Pictures of breakfast items are rad. No doubt. But I'm pretty sure this isn't called Greg and Yoshi talk about Pictures of Breakfast Items. So no. Not here.
3. Me talking about my girlfriend's blog: apresfete.blogspot.com. Sure, it's great. Blah, blah, blah... She's a really good cook and her catering business/private chef service is something you would have to be brain dead not inquire about if you live in the greater Los Angeles area. But this isn't called Greg and Yoshi Promote Greg's Girlfriend. So no. Not here.
4. Technology. 'Nuff said. We just won't talk about it. I mean, what were we talking about? I can't remember, but definitely not technology.
5. The upcoming ski trip I'm going on with my brother, Cary. Yesterday we talked about Cary because it (I mean "it" in the nicest possible way) related to a story about Adrian Gonzalez. But unless Yoshi is going ride the chair lift with Cary and I and talk about the Red Sox, then no, you won't hear about our ski trip to Utah where we are going to rip figure eights in knee-high fresh pow pow. And even if Yoshi does show-up and ride the lift with us, we still won't include that conversation on this blog because I'm pretty sure it's not called Greg and Yoshi and Cary Ride the Chair Lift and Talk about the Red Sox. Though, I agree, not a bad idea for a spin-off.
6. Long blogs. Just won't happen. Out of respect. Spoiler Alert! There will be a blog this season that is only one word long. And it'll be awesome.
Tell your friends,
Greg & Yoshi
(and again, for the record, Yoshi contributed nothing to this post. nothing. zero. the opposite of everything.)
Off season trades are done. Post season awards are done. Spring training starts in a month and all of baseball is focusing on one thing: vacation. But baseball writers have to justify their salaries so they kick out c-r-a-p stories like this (I recommend not clicking on the link because it's so boring): http://www.boston.com/sports/columnists/massarotti/2011/01/this_offseason_red_sox_owned_u.htmlhave . And that is what you'll never get at "Greg and Yoshi" -- meaningless drivel. You just won't see it here.
Here's some other stuff you won't see:
1. A video I made (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WRcAul7hMHo) of my Mom's kitty playing in a basket. Just won't see it. Not here. No matter how touching it is. This is Greg and Yoshi talk about the Red Sox not Greg and Yoshi Show Sweet Videos of Kitties Playing in Baskets.
2. Pictures of waffles. What Yoshi wants to do in his free time is his biz. Pictures of breakfast items are rad. No doubt. But I'm pretty sure this isn't called Greg and Yoshi talk about Pictures of Breakfast Items. So no. Not here.
3. Me talking about my girlfriend's blog: apresfete.blogspot.com. Sure, it's great. Blah, blah, blah... She's a really good cook and her catering business/private chef service is something you would have to be brain dead not inquire about if you live in the greater Los Angeles area. But this isn't called Greg and Yoshi Promote Greg's Girlfriend. So no. Not here.
4. Technology. 'Nuff said. We just won't talk about it. I mean, what were we talking about? I can't remember, but definitely not technology.
5. The upcoming ski trip I'm going on with my brother, Cary. Yesterday we talked about Cary because it (I mean "it" in the nicest possible way) related to a story about Adrian Gonzalez. But unless Yoshi is going ride the chair lift with Cary and I and talk about the Red Sox, then no, you won't hear about our ski trip to Utah where we are going to rip figure eights in knee-high fresh pow pow. And even if Yoshi does show-up and ride the lift with us, we still won't include that conversation on this blog because I'm pretty sure it's not called Greg and Yoshi and Cary Ride the Chair Lift and Talk about the Red Sox. Though, I agree, not a bad idea for a spin-off.
6. Long blogs. Just won't happen. Out of respect. Spoiler Alert! There will be a blog this season that is only one word long. And it'll be awesome.
Tell your friends,
Greg & Yoshi
(and again, for the record, Yoshi contributed nothing to this post. nothing. zero. the opposite of everything.)
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Phew! Adrian Gonzalez can throw!
Good news everyone, according to the Boston Globe, Adrian Gonzalez can throw (http://www.boston.com/sports/baseball/redsox/extras/extra_bases/2011/01/gonzo_starts_th.html). Not that I was ever worried since throwing is not an essential tool for a first baseman. My brother Cary proved this in 1991 when he played a full season at first base without the ability to throw.
Cary's shoulder was dislocated during a two-hand-touch football game. It was serious enough to require surgery. All the physical therapy in the world would not be enough to restore the range of movement required to throw a baseball by baseball season. So springtime arrived and brought with it a difficult decision: Play baseball or don't play baseball. My Dad, a Yankee fan, pointed out that Joe Dimaggio had sustained a debilitating shoulder injury during The War, but returned to the Yankees and still manned a formidable center field. How did he do it? He kept the injury a secret. Opponents couldn't take advantage of the handicap because they didn't know about the handicap. Cary would utilize the same psychology.
To execute the plan, Cary had to sell it. Luckily, years earlier, my Mom had enrolled us in a theater workshop at Orange County Community College. The final production was a stage adaptation of Charles Schultz's "Peanuts" in which Cary played Charlie Brown, the lead role. Though overshadowed by my scene stealing, gut-wrenching portrayal of Woodstock, a mute bird, the acting skills Cary learned stuck with him. So years later, when faced with having to keep a debilitating injury a secret, Cary reached into his actor tool kit and pulled out another great performance. Watching him was like watching Daniel Day-Lewis in "My Left Foot", except the opposite -- you had no idea Cary was a gimp.
By mid-point in the season Cary was flying high. His teammates had come accustomed to his pre-game ritual of working with a red rubber strengthening band (prescribed by his physical therapist) instead of having a catch. Offensively he was doing great. A perennial .300 hitter, the injury (or "lack-there-of-any-injury", wink wink) proved little effect on his swing. His performance was so convincing, no one noticed anything was wrong. Until IT happened.
It was the top of the 3rd inning of the sixth game. Ryan Gillespie was on the mound. Kyle Knapp was at bat. Ryan threw a 2-1 fast ball. Kyle's big swing unleashed a routine ground ball to shortstop. Pete McMahon fielded the ball and came up throwing. From the bleachers behind first base, I watched the ball soar over Cary's out-stretched mitt. Cary hustled to retrieve the ball. Kyle rounded first and headed for second. Cary picked up the ball. From where he stood, second base was approximately 115 feet away. Kyle, a slow runner, had only made it halfway. Cary gripped the ball; he had to at least try. He reached back, stepped forward, and released. Now imagine throwing a sponge with your non-dominant hand on a windy day. That's what it looked like. But that's not where the humiliation ended. A hollow thud echoed. Like a dog who's owner pretends to throw a ball, but instead hides the ball behind his back, it took a moment for everyone, including Cary, to realize what had happened. There was a light post positioned in foul territory behind first base. Normally, I wouldn't have noticed it as it was well out of line with the trajectory the ball needed to travel from Cary's hand to second base. Somehow, though, Cary managed to peg the post squarely, with a direct hit. The ball careened off the post and landed somewhere deeper in foul territory. Kyle made it to third.
Unfortunately for Cary, his performance had been too good. After the game, when he tried to explain his errant throw by unveiling his secret injury, no one believed him. After all, he wasn't even part of the Thespian Society. So instead of being lauded for his toughness and determination to play the game he loved, he was saddled with a reputation that he threw like a girl. As that weren't enough, to add insult to injury (or just a pun), for the rest of the season, whenever he picked up the ball, everyone in the stands ducked.
On second thought, maybe throwing is a valuable tool for a first baseman. I know so because my brother Cary proved it. Good thing Gonzalez is getting back to form.
(Please note that Yoshi contributed nothing to this.)
Cary's shoulder was dislocated during a two-hand-touch football game. It was serious enough to require surgery. All the physical therapy in the world would not be enough to restore the range of movement required to throw a baseball by baseball season. So springtime arrived and brought with it a difficult decision: Play baseball or don't play baseball. My Dad, a Yankee fan, pointed out that Joe Dimaggio had sustained a debilitating shoulder injury during The War, but returned to the Yankees and still manned a formidable center field. How did he do it? He kept the injury a secret. Opponents couldn't take advantage of the handicap because they didn't know about the handicap. Cary would utilize the same psychology.
To execute the plan, Cary had to sell it. Luckily, years earlier, my Mom had enrolled us in a theater workshop at Orange County Community College. The final production was a stage adaptation of Charles Schultz's "Peanuts" in which Cary played Charlie Brown, the lead role. Though overshadowed by my scene stealing, gut-wrenching portrayal of Woodstock, a mute bird, the acting skills Cary learned stuck with him. So years later, when faced with having to keep a debilitating injury a secret, Cary reached into his actor tool kit and pulled out another great performance. Watching him was like watching Daniel Day-Lewis in "My Left Foot", except the opposite -- you had no idea Cary was a gimp.
By mid-point in the season Cary was flying high. His teammates had come accustomed to his pre-game ritual of working with a red rubber strengthening band (prescribed by his physical therapist) instead of having a catch. Offensively he was doing great. A perennial .300 hitter, the injury (or "lack-there-of-any-injury", wink wink) proved little effect on his swing. His performance was so convincing, no one noticed anything was wrong. Until IT happened.
It was the top of the 3rd inning of the sixth game. Ryan Gillespie was on the mound. Kyle Knapp was at bat. Ryan threw a 2-1 fast ball. Kyle's big swing unleashed a routine ground ball to shortstop. Pete McMahon fielded the ball and came up throwing. From the bleachers behind first base, I watched the ball soar over Cary's out-stretched mitt. Cary hustled to retrieve the ball. Kyle rounded first and headed for second. Cary picked up the ball. From where he stood, second base was approximately 115 feet away. Kyle, a slow runner, had only made it halfway. Cary gripped the ball; he had to at least try. He reached back, stepped forward, and released. Now imagine throwing a sponge with your non-dominant hand on a windy day. That's what it looked like. But that's not where the humiliation ended. A hollow thud echoed. Like a dog who's owner pretends to throw a ball, but instead hides the ball behind his back, it took a moment for everyone, including Cary, to realize what had happened. There was a light post positioned in foul territory behind first base. Normally, I wouldn't have noticed it as it was well out of line with the trajectory the ball needed to travel from Cary's hand to second base. Somehow, though, Cary managed to peg the post squarely, with a direct hit. The ball careened off the post and landed somewhere deeper in foul territory. Kyle made it to third.
Unfortunately for Cary, his performance had been too good. After the game, when he tried to explain his errant throw by unveiling his secret injury, no one believed him. After all, he wasn't even part of the Thespian Society. So instead of being lauded for his toughness and determination to play the game he loved, he was saddled with a reputation that he threw like a girl. As that weren't enough, to add insult to injury (or just a pun), for the rest of the season, whenever he picked up the ball, everyone in the stands ducked.
On second thought, maybe throwing is a valuable tool for a first baseman. I know so because my brother Cary proved it. Good thing Gonzalez is getting back to form.
(Please note that Yoshi contributed nothing to this.)
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