Know Your 2009 Cleveland Indians

Major League Baseball is just days away. 5 if both my math is correct, and the world continues to revolve around the Sun in the same speed and frequency for the next week or so. After that the Sun can do whatever the hell it wants. I mean, it should probably go on nourishing all life on this planet and everything, but if it wants to put a Kenny Chesney album on it's thermonuclear Ipod, who am I to frown upon a celestial body's taste in music.

Considering the fact that a majority of my readership isn't interested in baseball, or if they are, not in the Cleveland Indians specifically, I thought I would write a little piece introducing some of the players on my favorite team in an unorthodox manner. I've tried to gather some unusual facts on these men to retain your attention. The accuracy of some of these statements is certainly contentious. However if you are thinking of hitting the brakes and running off to your Twitter, now would be the time. And away we go...

Asdrubal Cabrera. Nicknamed "AstroCab" or somewhat unfortunately, "Droobs". Cabrera plays second base and is just 23 years-old. He was born on an oil-rig off the coast of Puerto la Cruz, Venezeula. In fact, 'Asdrubal' is Spanish for 'Petroleum Child' and his outstanding defense is just as slick. *rim shot*

Victor Martinez. Curiously, Victor has no known nicknames and demands to be called by his first, last and middle name (Jesus) at all times, which I will immediately fail to maintain. Vic is the Indians primary catcher. Baseball Insiders call playing this position 'donning the tools of ignorance' which is largely because catchers in general are incredibly stupid.

Kerry Wood. This oft-injured former Chicago Cubs relief pitcher will serve as the Indians closer. It is said that his right arm, from rotator cuff to the third joint on his middle finger is composed of chewing gum, rubberbands, sawdust and a surprising number of small tacs. What would hamper a normal man only increases the velocity of Kerry's devastating fastball.

Shin-Soo Choo. One of the majors few Korean born players, the "Choo-Choo Train" is actually still required to serve in the Korean military and may miss some MLB time in the near future because of this stipulation. Or he could just change his name to 'Dan Heimerdinger' and go into the witness protection program. I hear they have excellent house-boats.

Anthony Reyes. This starting pitcher joined the Tribe late last season after spending too much time in the St Louis Cardinal doghouse. This isn't strictly true, however with his pitiful salary of just under $400,000, Anthony was unable to afford a large home and was teased mercilessly by the team, particularly manager Tony La Russa who refered to his 7 bedroom riverfront apartment as a doghouse.

Carl Pavano. Another of the Tribe's new starting pitchers, I need not make up anything silly about this man, Wikipedia has done the heavy lifting for me: "In 2006 the Yankees expected [Pavano] to be healthy but he began the year on the disabled list after brusing his buttocks in a spring trainging game. Pavano would subsequently miss the entire 2006 season." That's one hell of an ass bruise.

That's if for this edition of "Know Your 2009 Cleveland Indians." I hope you found this as informative as I did.

Well I Wouldn't Say I've Been Missing it, Bob.

The past week, coming on the heels of a whirlwind vacation/wedding planning extravangapalooza, has been a blessing in that my average work day has basically consisted of the following rough outline:

8:00am, eat breakfast while reading my comicbook websites (newsarama, IGN, comicbookresources, etc). They are like my soap-operas. I needs my stories!

8:30am, as the store opens, i try to improve my sluggishly underperforming fantasy baseball squadrons. wtf CC sabathia!?

9:45am, visit and loiter in the Onion's AV Club.

10:30am, check my work email, yep, still empty of everything not containing the improper phrases "take her to seven heavens," "Make God in the bedroom," "I'm bored/tired and am using my friend's email address and would like to show you some pictures." All spam dead giveaways, except for that one time a professor assigned that classic University of Chicago Press work: Making God in the Bedroom: From Aquinas to Pope Benedict the 16th, or, How Religion Took Her to Seven Heavens While America Was Bored/Tired and Using His Friend's Email Account, by Arthur Bangability, 2005

11:15am, refresh "Oline In the City" for the 1,113th time.

11:30am, leave to 'go buy lunch' even though i clearly brought one with me that morning. Hey, it's like paradise on earth outside, well, minus the hurricane winds and schlumping U of C coeds moaning under overstuffed backpacks like 18th century child mining-slaves.

12:00pm, take lunch, play online card-game Hearts. lose horribly. Damn you BitchQueen of Spades!

1:15pm, ardently defend the goddam Cleveland Indians on the ESPN MLB Forum from upstart Royals fans claiming that with 150 games left, the season is over. (but on a more serious note, wake the fuck up, Tribe! This Fall was supposed to be a delirious trifecta of getting to marry the only woman silly enough to say yes to me, the election of a Democratic President (I just don't care anymore Dems, just pick a candidate already!) and the obligate Tribe World Series Championship (over, let's say... the Phillies).

2:00pm, stare vacantly into space.

2:30pm, yep, still staring.

2:55pm, read a strip or two of my favorite web-comic, 8bit theater by brian clevinger. so funny.

3:13pm, decide that I don't deserve to bleed any more money from my employers, leave early, fill up the gas-tank for $85.30 and reconsider leaving early ever again and working for 60 hours a week instead, just to fuel the Jeep.

-----
what's that? it's only 10:40am still? hmm... wonder what Oline's doing over on her blog...

Series of Thoughtlings

lately, this blog has been more dinosaur (i.e. 'extinct') than zombie (unstoppably ravenous but brain-dead) or robot (super-helpful but destined to try, unsuccessfully, to take over the world). So time to harness my inner undead and walk/blog the land of the living once more, even if only to feast on the brains of the unwashed masses. Because I'm not up to taking over the world just yet.

Yesterday my beloved Cleveland Indians proved their mortality and teased me for 4 innings before imploding and losing game three of the American League Divisional Series. Previously charmed or at least impervious to Yankee mystique (a sort of musk that screams Bronx, bandwagon, 27 World Series Titles, unimaginable arrogance, and massive salary expenditure all at the same time), the Indians had delighted me twice over by winning the first two games.

Tonight the teams play game 4 in NY and the Yankees are once again favorites. I am nervous because momentum appears to swinging back NY's way, the game is being held on their home field, they are coming off a very strong performance, and the Indians pitcher this evening, a guy by the name of Paul Byrd, is one of those wily veterans who don't inspire fear in opposing batters. The worst part is that if NY wins this evening it is as if the first 4 games never happened. The series becomes a best of one. Granted, that One will be played in Cleveland with their ace on the mound, but the yankees will have at that point won two in a row. It seems like tonight is almost a must win for the Tribe.

How did this happen?

In other news, the new radiohead album 'comes out' on Wednesday. Released via download, the password issued in an email and good for one person only. And as well debated and documented in the media, you can pay whatever you like for the songs. I paid the 'full' price, which will net me a bunch of crazy art and vinyl I can't actual listen to, but also cds and pretty packaging etc. All for 40 pounds. thats British slang for 80-something bucks. Silly amount for music, but its not like i'm lining the pocket of some record label goon. This will actually go to the artists in question and hopefully contribute to more cool music down the road. Way to be a team player, Thom Yorke says to me in my imaginarium.

having been on a strict diet of coca-cola zero and diet pepsi, this morning's lack of either and subsequent purchasing/imbibement of a full fledged Mt Dew is like a shot of heroin. I feel incredibly good and kinda sick all at the same time. How on earth did i have one of these every day?

Later this month a huge X-men crossover event begins. For the lay-person (i.e someone who isn't 'rad' and doesn't read comic-books--the dorks) this means that all the different comic series involving X-men characters align and tell one big story, one that will (obligatory movie trailer over-statement) "change their world forever." I already read most of these series and I am pretty excited about this. Its like all of your favorite tv show characters being involved in the same story. But not really since Dwight Schrute (sp?) from the Office would never hang out with Sawyer and that Japanese guy on Heroes. At least not voluntarily.

The best part about getting to work early is getting a parking space. The second best thing is getting to LEAVE early, and beating all of the traffic home. Getting up certainly does have its sucking points (blech, gross phrase) but its all worth it in the end.

This post was written with Spoon's Series of Sneaks playing in the background.