Kuzul

In a strange turn of events, an unknown source reports that Joe Buck paid off Lance Berkman.  The bounty was placed to hit a line drive off Yankees third baseman Alex Rodriguez while the superstar wasn’t paying attention.

Buck, known by many as a Yankee hater, allegedly told the struggling Berkman he would give him $75,000 if he hit a screaming line drive that hit A-Rod, while Buck would distract A-Rod by talking to him. Rodriguez is now considered day-to-day. 

Berkman, as of August 6th, is 2-for-19 in five games. 

It is unclear why Berkman would agree to go through with this idea, since he is making over $10 million this year, and has an option for over $14 million next season. 

When approached by reporters, Buck said, “I didn’t do anything wrong. But I still hate the Yankees.”

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I feel obligated to snap this off tonight.  The Tex Mex Phillies aka Astros are a much different team and Roy Oswalt deserves some advice upon his arrival.  Considering Houston is like our second home I would like to help him adjust once he gets to Philly (he pitches tomorrow night at the Nats for anyone who has been asleep).

Big Texas Howdy, Roy!  I hope this helps you as much as you will help us on our quest to the World Series!

• There is no Original Momma Nifa’s or anything quite like it anywhere in the area (and I mean it).
• There is no Luling City or Goodes BBQ and BBQ in Philly is hickory or mesquite, no walnut and apple wood unless you search.
• We do not go to the beach, we go down the shore.  Our water is more grey than blue-green.
• Our stadium has no cover so be prepared to play no matter what.  Fire works look better here than at Minute Maid Park.
• Philly fans love to love you and will not hesitate to hate you.  Houston fans just love having you and a baseball team in town.
• Get a cheese steak anywhere.  Texadelphia is not a real cheese steak place despite what Houstonians think.  
  
• Eat some real Italian food in South Philly
• Take a ride to the Poconos –  America is not flat, just Texas.
• Learn to deal with the Mets fans who invade our stadium like mad, crazy bees.  They can be a distraction.
• Finally, ignore the boo’s.  We love having you here – we are just lacking that southern warmth.  we will make up for it in spirit.

The City of Brotherly Love guarantees you a parade you won’t soon forget when we win the World Series.

Advice to J A Happ –  everything above in reverse!  See you in Houston!

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First of all—to those of you who, like me, spell his name Dominic, we are wrong!  I stand corrected and wish his parents took spelling lessons, seriously!

Now to the new Phillies superstar, hopefully!  A shot in the arm was needed and Victorino provided us one by getting injured. 

Enter Domonic Brown! 

The anticipation this season has been unreal.  We were clinging to hope that this kid was the answer to losing Cliff Lee, Drabek and assorted other problems.

Well, he sure Razzle Dazzled me last night.  What a first inning!  Willie Mays took about 22 innings to get his mojo going.  This kid was rough and ready.  He caught a fly ball, hit in a run with a double, and then scored.  Not exactly shabby.   He earned the standing O he got when he came on the field.

The other star (no razzle dazzle here, just great pitching) is the consistently fantastic Roy Halladay, who had the bats to back him up last night.  He broke Tommy Greene’s record for most consecutive innings without a run at home and almost kept it going til a score in the ninth by the Rockies.  He managed to hit a nice single, but was left stranded. 

Ryan Howard cold again—nothing, zip, zilch.  Here I am staring at an autographed Jersey, ball, bat, and two framed photos waiting for the long hot street to make him marketable.  Come on, do something!

Talk shows are all about the trade with the Astros.  Having been attending their games in Houston regularly, it will feel like old home week.  We seem to trade players back and forth. 

Oswalt will involve a three-way or four way deal—almost sounds like a bad Saturday night at the bar.  He certainly deserves a shot in a major market and Phillies need pitching (Cliff Lee, hello?).  Besides, they have Brett Myers who is doing well, so payback time!

I have to say the I felt like last night’s game was the beginning of something magical.  The spark was back, ignited by Domonic (spelling people, please) Brown.  I was immersed in the game for the first time in quite a while.  I decided that listening was enough and America’s Got Talent was far more interesting.

Last night the show was Philadelphia’s Got Talent.  We had the wow factor, the IT factor, the razzle dazzle, and the entire team (with the exception of Howard) found their mojo.  A star was born last night and the Phillies officially can begin a quest for the NL league title again.  No turning back now!

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A “real fan” will tell you that when he watches a baseball game, all he notices is the ball. He doesn’t notice the architecture of the surrounding stadium, or the design on the players’ uniforms, or the guy in the colorful costume dancing on the dugout and throwing T-shirts to kids in the stands.

But, while these ultra-serious spectators might not have time to acknowledge an artful logo or a big scoreboard, you can bet they notice when something like that isn’t to their liking.

Yesterday, I released the first half of this week’s Bleacher Report Featured Columnist Poll results—the best stadiums, mascots, logos, uniforms, and team names in baseball.

But today is the fun part—our picks for the worst of these ballpark distractions.

In addition to the full vote totals, each slide includes three quick sound bites from the writers explaining the reasons behind their picks.

Thanks to everyone who participated!

Note: I sent this survey only to the Featured Columnists who have been active in previous polls. If you are a new FC or you have changed your mind about wanting to participate, send me a message and I’ll be sure to keep you in the loop for next time!

Begin Slideshow

It’s been a wild season of pitching this year in Major League Baseball, with five no hitters and two perfect games so far this year, but yesterday’s events may just be the icing on the cake. Only 24 hours after Matt Garza tossed the first no-no in Tampa Bay Rays history, teen singing sensation Justin Bieber was on hand to throw out the first pitch at the Cincinnati Reds game.

But Bieber’s pitch looked so unhittable, manager Dusty Baker decided to just leave him in there for the rest of the game.

“He had a no-hitter going after that first pitch, you can’t take a pitcher out when he’s got something going like that,” said Baker after the game. “That first pitch was so unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. It couldn’t even reach the plate, it sort of bounced off the ground and then way over the catcher’s head. I knew no one could come close to hitting something so horrible, so I told the kid he was staying in there to finish this thing.”

Pitching in street clothes, Bieber baffled the Milwaukee Brewers for eight dazzling innings, who were likely so confused by the turn of events they couldn’t concentrate on hitting the ball.

“Wow, my daughter isn’t going to believe I was struck out by Justin three times in one game,” said All-Star Prince Fielder. “I couldn’t hit a home run off that kid, despite the fact the couple balls that he managed to get to the plate were right in my zone. My daughter wouldn’t have spoken to me for a year!”

Bieber’s agent was happy with the performance of his client, but furious at Baker’s mismanagement.

“Obviously he should have been pulled after that first pitch,” said the agent, Saul Washington. “Justin is supposed to be on a pitch count! We talked to Dusty beforehand and he said that count would be one, maybe two pitches. This kid has a bright future ahead of symbolic athletic honors before games. I want him to be able to sing a national anthem, toss a coin, or wave a flag at a NASCAR event. Now his whole career could be in jeopardy.”

Bieber was backed up by some stellar defense behind him to pick up the no hitter, but it really served to highlight that indeed anyone can pitch a perfect game this year.

SportsComedian.com

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So, I’m watching TV waiting for these people to get eaten by sharks when a thought crosses my mind: They can’t get eaten—they’re telling the story.

But wait. I can only see them from the neck up. Perhaps someone lost a limb.

There is hope.

There is hope for a pennant too.

That same “Throw them to the sharks” mentally is what Phillies fans are notorious for, so will they sigh with content at two straight four-game sweeps at home or will they expect the team to go in for the kill?

I’m not suggesting the Phillies will have to claw and scrape their way to the top of the division but it sure is nice to attain something with the effort the team has extended lately.

Take Ryan Howard for instance. He’s my vote for hardest working first baseman in America. It’s easy to observe his greatness, especially when he’s playing opposite Jason Giambi. Ryan was sliding and diving and working so hard he looked like he was dipped in chocolate sprinkles.

Someone should lick him off.

I’m sorry, I meant clean him off.

Then there’s Placido Polanco. He’s my vote for greatest spaz at third base. And now he’s playing Chase Utley quite well at second. Polly rules the Phillie Playmate of the Week pinup in my head and excites me so that I extend to him my highest rating yet—.

Wait, my husband says I can’t say that on public access. Let’s just call the third baseman my own Steely Dan.

Jimmy Rollins is back as the renewed leadoff hitter, Shane Victorino is stealing bases so fast I had to check to see if I still had my pants, and the Jayson Werth signs are back. Whatever Greg Gross is giving out, I’m sure it’s a secret and illegal and I want some.

Now that the lineup is hitting, Ruben Amaro, Jr can turn his attention to pitchers not named Hamels or Halladay. I hate to see him scrape the bank account dry but it’s not like he hasn’t tried some insiders.

We’ve seen Antonio Bastardo, Sergio Escalona, and I even had a dream that Brett Myers was back. But they were all gone by sunup.

Then there’s Scott Mathieson: He’s had more elbow surgeries than he has elbows. At this point why wouldn’t he just have them remove those ligaments altogether. Then he could be like RA Dickey, throw the elusive knuckleball, and set the record for most wild pitches in an inning.

Or he could find a side job as a contortionist. Either way, he’s wowing people.

Andrew Carpenter is a name that comes and goes like Hugh Hefner’s wives.

And who the hell is Vance Worley? He was gone before I could pull up the 25 man roster that bore his name. Now he’s mentioned as a candidate for a trade. It’s like the bullpen’s in a game of hide and seek.

Not long ago the Phils had a guy named Dane Sardinha catching pitches from the unknown Mike Zagurski.

Did you know Zagurski is Polish for “No neck?”

I thought not.

Did you know Dane is from Hawaii and his name rhymes with Shane so he and Victorino are neighbors?

Okay, maybe not. That was judgmental of me. It’s like saying since Pamela Anderson and I both have breasts we must be equally as buoyant.

We all know there’s no comparison. She’s like her own personal life vest. Well, unless she gets deflated. Unlike a guy, there’s nothing Viagra can do for her.

Men have all the options. They virtually pull up to the pharmaceutical air compressor when it’s honky-tonk time while girls have to wear their sex appeal around like a BabyBjörn.

Okay, maybe baby Björns are just what mine look like.

Wait, I’m completely off the subject. Where were we?

I know, things that interest me the most: sweaty men in uniform not married to me.

See, if I put it that way, my husband can’t put on a fancy hat, stand in the sun for a second, and think he has a chance without Tequila. I tell him that’s why The Village People haven’t staged a comeback—like a Charlie Manuel pinup, I think it’s illegal.

Like me going for a swim at the Playboy mansion. I can pay my way into the public pool but a fake bunny tattoo doesn’t get me into Hugh’s place even with my A-cup discount.

Besides childbirth has left me a little leaky—plus my stream now pulls to the right. If Pamela and I were in the pool together I’d have to stand to her left when I have to sneeze, especially if Hugh has that blue indicator in the pool.

I’m like a peeing ventriloquist.

I’m sorry. My husband says that’s too much information.

Speaking of my beau, he’s now following my blogging progress online. He said, “Dolly Pardon has 674-some thousand followers and you have 56. There are two reasons for that and both of them are holding up her blouse.”

What’s he saying—I need a strap-on chest?

Maybe I need a BigMamma Björn.

My husband says I need more help than that. Even the sharks won’t come for me.

That’s because they know I pee in the pool.

I’m done now.

See you at the ballpark.

Copyright 2010 Flattish Poe all rights reserved.

Catch life one-liner at a time on Twitter http://twitter.com/ABabesTake

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Spoiled food in the clubhouse and concession stands at Tropicana Field nearly resulted in two no-hitters in the July 26 contest between the Tampa Bay Rays and Detroit Tigers.

When a report from Sports Illustrated stating that 100 percent of concession stands in Tropicana Field failed their food safety inspections in the last 12 months began circulating on the internet, players and fans alike were skeptical but no more after the results of today’s contest.

“I got up to the plate in the 3rd, and I just had the worst stomach cramps,” Detroit catcher Gerald Laird said after the game. “So did everyone else. We figured if we just swung, swung, swung, we could just go back to the clubhouse and, you know.” Laird went 0-3 with two strikeouts on the day.

Matt Joyce says the Rays had the same problem when he was up to bat in the bottom of the 6th.

“The bases were loaded even though we weren’t trying to get hits and didn’t have any at all, you know?” He said in the clubhouse after the game. “The other guys out there on base were staring at me like, ‘you better do something big here, I gotta get back in there.’ So I swung and knocked it out of the park.”

No Ray got a hit until Joyce’s slam in the bottom of the 6th, but no Tiger got a hit at all in this ballgame which is the first no-hitter in Tampa Bay Rays history.

“It was great, I didn’t have my best stuff, but I did it anyway with the help of my defense and the free-swinging Tigers. Now if you’ll excuse me,” said Garza as he ran into the clubhouse after the brief post-game celebration which consisted of players running to the mound, stopping halfway, and going back into the clubhouse.

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The June swoon, the July good-bye, the August bust, and the September to dismember could all be used to discuss the ghosts of Cubs’ season past.

There are a few exceptions of course; one being the ’84 team that headed into San Diego up 2-0 and found a way to cough up the NLCS. I am sure that Gatorade on a glove had everything to do with it.

The ’89 team showed promise until they met up with a buzz-saw in the San Francisco Giants and were taken in five games.

Then the ’98 squad behind Slammin’ Sammy Steroid-Osa made it to a play-in game for the wild card and actually won. That made it even more disappointing to Cubs fans when the Braves scalped them in three.

In 2003, the Cubs gave their fans what maybe the biggest tease they’ve seen in 90-plus years. They had an amazing divisional race that saw them take the Central on the next to last day. They took the Braves into Game Five of the series, and actually found a way to win their first series since Moses parted the Red Sea.

Then, with only five outs left until a trip to their first World Series since 1908, well, you know the rest.

You also know the recent history of the Cubs if you are a true fan.

So, the question I wish to ask with this particular article is, which is better, knowing you have no chance and enjoying the season, or setting yourself up for heartache?

Before you get too set on saying one or the other, let me explain.

In recent years, the Cubs have been 50/50 on whether they are in the race late in the season. It seems like they are either at the top, or at the bottom. No in-betweens, and I do not count the Pirates as a team, just an FYI.

Those seasons when they make the playoffs seem to be magical, until the D-Backs,  Dodgers, Braves, or whoever sweep them right into Gary, Ind.

In my opinion, that just sucks the air out of the entire season and makes me want believe that they will actually never win a World Series in my lifetime.

On the other hand, in a season that nothing is expected, or they are out of it by mid-to-late June, I can just sit back, drink a few beers, and watch the Cubs play baseball, for better or for worse.

There is no worrying about magic numbers, trade deadlines, or really anything. It is just relaxing to watch Cubs baseball without any talk of Billy Goats, curses, and Bartman balls.

This season is one of those. Sweet Lou is finishing up his career at season’s end. The Cubs are double digit games out. Young players are on the roster looking to make a name for themselves.

This is just as great as if they are in a pennant race. My hair isn’t going gray, I’m not losing any sleep, and I don’t want to drive to the suburbs and kill a guy with glasses that tried to catch a foul ball.

It all comes down to whether you want to set yourself up for heart break. It’s almost like you are seeing a girl who you really like, but she is not into you at all. Sure, she’ll show you some attention every now and again when she wants something or when she is drunk and you’ll do. But in the end, you are just setting yourself up for a letdown.

I guess, for many Cubs fans, being one is like going on a date, paying for everything, then at the end of the night having the girl go off with some guy she met at the bar while you were taking a leak.

As always, that’s just my opinion, I could be wrong.

So I ask, is it better to win and take the chance of having your heart broken, or losing and just enjoying the great game of baseball?

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The Vampire Baseball Players Union today released a scathing report about the rash of broken bats taking place at MLB games all across the country. It has reached near epidemic proportions in recent years, with multiple bats per game shattering into dangerous shards of wood.

Vampire Union president Randy Johnson spoke out against the troublesome bats.

“These are an extreme danger to any vampire who may be on the mound,” said an irate Johnson. “In all my years of being a creepy, pale, unnatural looking vampire out there on the rubber, I have never seen so many stakes fly right at people.

“It’s just a matter of time before one goes right through someone’s heart, and we have a pile of burning clothes where a decent, family-loving vampire’s body used to be.”

He went on to call the stakes exploding from bats borderline racist, and asked how African Americans would feel if bats exploded and fried chicken came out. He said clearly the bat manufacturers are designing these things as an insult to Transylvanian-Americans.

Other vampires are weighing in on the matter, such as Eternal Undead Jamie Moyer.

“I’ve personally had to dodge several of these things over the years,” Moyer said. “Luckily I’m older than even the game of baseball, so I’ve learned how to get away from flying stakes, but I’m worried about these young blood suckers.

“Between this and all the day games I keep complaining to the schedulers about, it’s just dangerous out there for us. Next thing you know they’ll be pretending like Sammy Sosa’s garlicked bat incident didn’t happen.”

The Vampire Union says it will wait for a solution from Louisville Slugger, the manufacturers of all MLB bats, but not forever. They then said they could technically wait forever due to their immortality, but would only give them another Twilight movie or two to find fix.

SportsComedian.com

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