2000
Unfortunately, it’s that time again. Time for us to take a look back at a few of the more memorable TZ moments that have amused, irritated and horrified Zone-dwellers over the past year. Some you will remember, some you won’t, but all struck us as unique. Like last year, at the bottom of the list, we identify the 2000 TalkZone MVP, so you might be interested in checking out who’ll be hoisting the coveted Golden Scott Award aloft in victorious fashion…
THE JOE NIEKRO “UNSUNG HERO” AWARD
Wild Dog
Let it be known that Wild Dog becomes the first winner of the AstrosConnection Joe Niekro Unsung Hero Award. Named after the tremendous, yet often overshadowed ex-Astros pitcher, this prestigious honor is presented to deserving Zone-dwellers for unique service to TZ. Props and thanks to Wild Dog for his tireless efforts towards creating a better-informed TZ through the weekly tradition “Rev. Wild Dog’s Sunday Morning Trivia Service.” Not only does this spectacular, if unofficial public service cleanse TZ of residual vitriole from Saturday, but is considered by hundreds of Zone-dwellers to be a legitimate substitute for church. Hail to Wild Dog – you da maign.
FAVORITE EXCERPTS FROM TZ DISCUSSIONS
Various
“How dare you cloud the issue with facts!” – MusicMan
“Only my laundry man will know what this division is doing to me.” – AstrosGuy
“True homerism doesn’t need to seek out the enemy camp and run through with its ass hanging out.” – Holly
“I’m going to stuff the Martin in my pants and head for The Tavern…” – Wild Dog
“Still waiting for the one-legged cross-dressing German midget on a horse who can hit leadoff and play short.” – Doran19
“In my extensive travels around the world, I’ve seen a lot of dirt. And the best I’ve seen is the red kind.” – Dirt Boy
“Cookies, apples, and pie are deserts.” – AstrosGuy
“Any of those Astros show up at my door, forget it, no way you’re gettin in my house. Lessen you have a pizza and a sixer.” – pravata
“(The Astros) revenue is higher than the Indians, and I have the facts to prove it.” – Hetero Doxy
“Come hither son, and I will layeth my hands upon your sinus area.” – Paul G
“Perhaps we should be like the hippies and pretend that rubbing a crystal in our pits actually does anything other than upset the crystal.” – Andyzipp
“Check your diaper, son, the Reds got a higher rating than the Tigers.” – Michael N
“you too can have access to the Mistress of the Keyboard to speed up your hunt and peck sausage fingers as they mangle their way through an all left hand typing of the word ‘wasted'” – Derek in Tucson
“Astros suck, Reds don’t” – Mr. Red
“Your bullshit level exceeds your stupidity, and that’s quite an accomplishment.” – MusicMan
“I wave my private parts at your aunties, you brightly colored, mealy templed, cranberry smelling, electric donkey bottom biters.” – Ray K
“Really good phlegm has nice range and picks up anything it touches. Though the throw to first may be difficult since it has trouble with the release.” – Jacksonian
“I see more crotch grabbing in here than the last time Alfonseca pitched.” – pravata
BEST OLD MAN POST OF THE YEAR
Grandpa Simpson
Surprisingly, this one didn’t come from Spider Pellini, Spack McGrim, OR Jim R. Anyway, JayR asks the simple question, “where did the term ‘rubber game’ come from? Grandpa Simpson’s (Ray K) response…
“Ah, that’s easy. Back in 19-diggety-2, we used ‘diggety’ because the Kaiser had stolen the word ‘twenty’, players back in the old days were real men. They wouldn’t think anything about playing hurt. I remember a game where One Eye Brown, we called him ‘one eye’ because he once played an entire road trip with a broken bat handle in his left eye. The owners wouldn’t let him see a doctor until the road trip was over. It took two surgeons and a cobbler to make an eyepatch to fit over that bat. Anyway, where was I? Oh, like I was saying players were tough back then. You kids today might not know it, but the old-timers thought nothing about playing two, three or four games in one day. In fact, good ole Bernie Planks used to say “Let’s play three!” Those dadburned reporters thought he meant three innings and the manager suspended him without pay for being a slacker for twenty-two years. I still remember him begging everyone for bread, but none of use would take kindly to slackers back then. Back to my original point about the games, why we often played triple-headers in the summer heat. It would get so hot that some of the players would get delirious and start eating the outfield dirt. Back then, as you know, we couldn’t afford none of this fancy grass that you kids today get to roll around on. Why only the Yankees could afford grass, and those carpetbaggers used a fancy imported grass. It was a hybrid of Kentucky bluegrass and something else I can’t recall. Not only could you play three games on it, but the players would often set fire to it between innings and get stoned out of their minds. Those were the days before rolling paper, you know. If you think fields get hot today, you should have played in twelve hours of summer heat on packed dirt. We couldn’t afford thermometers then, so we’d measure how hot it was by frying our meals on the pitcher’s mound during the seventh-inning stretch. Hey, where are you going? I’m not finished yet! The food would be gritty, but by the last game of the triple-header the pitcher’s rubber would be hot enough to cook on. There’d be a big fight every day between the players over who would get to cook their food on the pitcher’s rubber and not have to take their tetanus shots that day. Tetanus shots were no big deal back then. In fact, we’d often have to take booster shots between innings in Cleveland. Fortunately for the hometown Indians, the extra lead in the air gave them some immunity. Like I was saying, in the huge brawl in 19-diggety-3, Ty Cobb clubbed Honus Wagner and stole his dinner, not because Cobb hated dirty food but because he thought Honus was a pansy. They didn’t call him the Flying Dutchman for nothing, if you get my drift. After that, the owners stopped playing triple-headers and eliminated what everyone called the rubber game. It wasn’t until the Bambino came along that the league ran out of tetanus shots and the owners gave us metal plates to cook our food on.
What was the question?”
BEST FRONTRUNNING SMACK OF THE YEAR
Doxman
After the Astros ripped through the Cubs last year at Wrigley, with Carl Everett going 9-for-13 with 10 RBI in the series…
“CUBS LOSE !!! CUBS LOSE !!! CUBS LOSE!!! Sorry Skip & Chip…. Looks like old Harry wasn’t smiling down on Wrigley this weekend…. Probably got baked on gin and Budweiser and passed out face down in his cloud. HOLY CARL!!! How ’bout our man Everett. Guy comes off the DL and goes McGwire on chi-town. Can you hear the pre-game on this….
Milo: ‘Say Carl, It’s great to have you back with the team.’
Carl: ‘Thanks Milo, It’s great to be back.’
Milo: ‘Do you have any strategy for your return, I mean, How’re you gonna play ’em today?’
Carl: ‘Well Milo, I’m just going to take it easy and enjoy myself, and I thought maybe I’LL MAKE THE ENTIRE CUBS PITCHING STAFF MY BITCH!!!!!!’.
I love it. God help me I love it so.”
BEST YACKBALL-INSPIRED POST
Dr. Seuss
“Oh, the Yacks you could yack
if only you’d hack
You could yack like a grak
On a hackberry track
To yack is such fun
When Yack has begun
Yack under the sun
with a fun-gundy-bun
You can yack by yourself
Or yack with an elf
Or yack by the shelf
Of a fair flerry-felf
If you want you can try
To yack in the sky
But try not to ask why
A yack-bird can’t fly
To Yack you must click
And your fingers must flick
But don’t go too quick
Or the jav-jav will stick
Oh, the Yacks you could yack
if only you’d hack
If your high score’s on track
You could run TZ smack”
MOST EMPHATIC SLAM OF A CARAY
Kevin
When responding to Dabird’s question as to why Braves announcer Skip Caray is hated so intensely at AstrosConnection, El Jefe provided the shortest possible explanation (excerpted)…
“…one would think that The Ridiculous Bastard would possess some tinge of humility in his voice/style, having been present for the entirety of the eighties, during which the Braves were for the most part absolutely horrific. Instead, The Ridiculous Bastard embodies all that we hate. A smart-ass, condescending, bitter litany throughout the entire period that he defaces a broadcasting booth has contributed mightily to my white-hot hatred of the Braves organization in this decade. Homerism is fine, but The Ridiculous Bastard is not content with mere homerism. The Ridiculous Bastard’s father (The Bud Man) and son (Candy Ass) had/have a gig calling MLB games, and bigger homers have never been heard anywhere in the civilized world. Still, their commentary would never drip with the disdain, contempt, and arrogance such as spewed forth by this gravy-training, flippant a-hole. Yea, the list is long when I think of the examples of The Ridiculous Bastard’s wretched speak. Many are the times when an opposing batter has gotten wood on a ball, that The Ridiculous Bastard quickly fires off an impudent “grounder short side retired” before the ATL fielder has even gotten his glove on the ball. Yes, there have been those joyous moments when The Ridiculous Bastard botches such calls, tripping on his own arrogance, but like an AndrUw Jones/Michael Tucker “look at me everybody I’m being nonchalant” snap catch to retire the side, The Ridiculous Bastard all too often gets over with his flippant takes and the ATL-hate among non-bandwagonners grows even hotter. When Smoltz retires the side on five pitches, The Ridiculous Bastard is there to count them for us and remind us that Smoltz is the light and the way. When Holt duplicates the feat five minutes later, it is dismissed as merely a favor granted by the mighty ATL. A more monotone, unexciting announcer we have never heard. A grating, nasal voice that is truly the sound of hell. Ass-kissing his own organization at a level unseen since the last time Jim Rome had an in-studio guest, all the while maintaining a collective yawn at the merits of other teams and their players. A bigger scoreboard-watcher than The Ridiculous Bastard you will never see, especially in this period of long decline for Atlanta and challenge from New York. The smugness, vanity and self-loft of The Ridiculous Bastard is reflected in perhaps the most arrogant permanent sneer ever witnessed on a human face. It is horrible to behold, and has never failed to give me the urge to break everything in the house when I am unfortunate enough to see it fill my television screen…”
WORST SINGLE REPRESENTATION BY AN OPPOSING FAN
REDSFAN
During a heated battle between Zone-dwellers and invading Cincinnati fans last August, REDSFAN could hold back no longer and let loose with…
“there is a hits leder tho’ some hogheads would like to ignore that. ruin it? hold your own without slinging insults, and that would be BUFOON thank you.”
Who says Cincinnati can’t deliver in the clutch? Honorable mention goes to bearer of truth, who addressed the Astros’ monumental drop from first to worst with this classic…
“You shouldn’t have run so much smack in the offseason, queers!”
BEST SLAM OF A CONTRIBUTING EDITOR
Ray K, MusicMan
The infrequency of Minor Opinions columns is a favorite slam topic of Zone-dwellers. Here is an epic exchange on the topic of TZ-legend Michael N’s slacker tendencies…
Ray K – “My analysis shows that Nash’s column production this season is way below his career averages, leading me to think that he’s slacking. When’s the last time anyone saw Nash hustle to get a column in on time?”
MusicMan – “No, no, no, Ray. In past years, Michael was producing during the “juiced modem” era. Adjusting for “terminal effects” will make this obvious to you.”
Ray K – “But even considering the juiced modem, you wouldn’t expect to see his content/column ratio drop so drastically. Oops, I forgot to take into account the effects of aging.”
MusicMan – “That’s what happens when organizations hold on to players too long. In an ironic twist, MN should have been traded for prospects before the season began. While many would cry that such a move would show no loyalty from Kev and Scott, the Big Freight Train must keep moving to the future. Face it Ray, someday, someone will come along with a nicer ASS, and you’ll find yourself on durhambulls.com, desperately trying to squeeze out another year of columns. It’s just the nature of the game.”
MOST LONG-WINDED ENTYMOLOGY OF A BASEBALL TERM
Two Moon – (Honorable Mention for Take Of The Year)
“The term “pastballs” was coined in reference to eunuchs, as some have guessed. There is quite a bit more to it, however. The phrase fell out of favor for many years, until revived by Voltaire when describing masquerades already completed — as opposed to upcoming events. Thus it was that persons who had lost their popularity and would no longer be invited came to be known as “pastballs.” That particular bastardization did not resurface until the 20th century.
In the meantime, Samuel Johnson adapted the antiquated form in reference to sovereign rulers who governed poorly — effectively saying they had lost their “manhood”. This is noted on page 794 of Boswell’s Life of Johnson. Boswell inquires as to Johnson’s opinion of Napoleon Bonaparte, to which Johnson replies, “He, sir, was a brilliant strategist. When the conquering was done and time came to rule, however, Napoleon joined the overflowing ranks of pastballs.”
At the same time, the American colonies were in the process of revolt. Thomas Jefferson, a Francophile, commonly included the term “pastballs” in his public speaking appearances. He used the word loosely, though. Jefferson once said, “That King George, whose rule is unquestioned only by His own Self, has exposed these Colonies to Tyranny for too long a time. We will have our own way then, for we Recognize the Right of Man to Proclaim another a Pastball, Who has no Right of Rule or other Dominion over Free Men.”
Gradually this usage came to mean that any idea whose time had long since come was a “pastball.” This was true in Boston when angry colonists took to the streets in protest of the continued British military presence. “Taxation without representation is a pastball!” was the shout that carried the day. When Publius (Madison in this case) penned Federalist Paper 19, he said, “That the States united should have the power through the consent of governed to keep separate the church from the state is pastball. This tradition continued when Martin Luther King led a march to Washington. At the Mall he was heard to say, “Free at last, free at last; Great God Almighty it’s pastball.”
Meanwhile, on Capitol Hill, Sen. Joseph McCarthy (WI) was busily accusing a plethora in the entertainment industry of Hollywood of being communists. They became pariahs, and were referred to by some as “pastballs,” who one should not be known to fraternize with. The Busch family, avowed communists in St. Louis, decided to divert attention from the Red Scare. They began the practice using “pastball” in reference to the catchers on their baseball teams that played poor defense and were doomed to be released. The best example was probably Billy “Thumbs” Mulligan. One local newpaper account of a 1958 game read, “Mulligan is a pastball through and through and will not rejoin the team next year. The phrase caught on, and now refers to any pitch that escapes the catcher and is not the fault of the pitcher.”
BEST ACCOUNT OF AN AA MEETING
Alkie
Posted in the middle of the night towards the end of last season, this one requires no explanation…
“It is 3 in the AM and I just returned from, without question, the single most frustrating night of my entire life, save my first prom night.
First I would like to tell Queen B and anyone else that still thinks Derek Bell has any worth at all as a Major League ballplayer: sorry, but if you still like him, you need to learn more about baseball, because like Derek, you obviously don’t understand how it works. Derek Bell is inept as a baseball player. Maybe someday I’ll vote for him as mayor, but that’s about it. Ben, I believe you offered to buy him a bottle of Jack and a rental car, I want you to know that we have a fund started so you don’t have to front all the money yourself.
Second, I would like to apologize to the owner of the Tavern (who was nice enough to not only Air Condition his restaurant, but appearantly the whole f***ing town, as the temperature outside had dropped 35 degrees thru-out the night). It seems that between me, Michael N, and AZ’s Lackey, we made quite a mess of the place. Our bad. Well, actually it was the Reds fault, but I apologize for all of us. I can’t tell you what a pleasant experience it was discovering that the only time the Astros do WELL is when I am sitting in the men’s room, listening to the rest of the meeting whisper (as if they were in a saw mill) about me in the next room. Fantastic. At least I almost started 3 different fights with members of AA. My grandpa would be so proud.
Third, I want to express my many deepest thanks to the Houston Astros Baseball Club for allowing me this extra month of October to worry about my job, my classes at UT, and my friends. Without you guys bowing out before the postseason, I might have actually neglected those facets of my life for yet another 30 days or so. Look at it this way…the Spurs used to choke every year in the NBA playoffs. Maybe after the next strike shortened season (in two years) we can be the Houston Astros — world champs… but never in a non-strike shortened season, too. Good luck, guys… you’re REALLY gonna need it.
Fourth, I wanted to “thank” mr k for paying that kind woman to rub her sweaty cleavage in my face while he laughed hysterically. Yes, to celebrate the big Reds win, Michael N, mr k, and I went to the Yellow Rose to spend all of mr k’s earnings for the week in grand fashion. Not only does my face smell like 6 hours of sweaty guys now (thanks, BITCH) but I have almost no more self respect and I managed to piss off a dancer. Ha. At least mr k is quite the magnet and MAN does he know how to sweet talk the dancers. Props to him. Oh, and to Michael N, who was so drunk, he kindly allowed some horsebeast to sit in his lap while she tried to steal his wallet, his ring, his watch, his glasses, only to manage to get away with his pride. Kudos, buddy.
I finally return home; cold, stinky, sober, broke, pissed, frustrated, horny, and depressed. So, what could possibly make me feel better? How about two emails from ex girlfriends, berating me for SOMETHING I did (probably years ago) and a phone call from two banks that payments are overdue.
But, there is some good news in all this for you Astros fans out there in Astros Land…since nothing ELSE has gone right for me the last 24 hours, you’ll be pleased to hear I’m considering using this battle cry for Wednesday night…
LET’S GO REDS!
So, a goodnight to all and to all a goodnight. Except Derek Bell, who I sincerely hope finds religion overnight and realizes his lifelong duty of giving out pamphlets on Westheimer.”
BEST SUGGESTION FOR BRAVES MANAGEMENT
AZ’s Lackey
Amid a ridiculous discussion last October on racial stereotypes, the political incorrectness of the Atlanta Braves’ name and their fans’ lame chant, AZ’s Lackey provided a suggestion that no doubt several Zone-dwellers would find fitting…
“Personally I think Atlanta should change their mascot to the ‘Redneck’. Their chant would be ‘Somebody jiggle the handle’ and their mascot would be some fat white guy in a ‘WIFEBEATER’ t-shirt that doesn’t make it to his bellybutton and a huge beergut hanging over his 1982 Lee Jeans… They could wave big foam beer cans…”
MOST MIND-BOGGLING POST OF THE YEAR
Andy Cleary
While the actual reasons that Mike Hampton left H-Town may never be known, we knew things had gotten way out of hand in a Hampton trade aftermath thread when Andy Cleary hit the TZ with this after Breedlove stated that “not all facts are true”…
“I happen to dabble in philosophy (comes with the math background). There is no 100% thing as truth, fact, or any other construct of the human mind. All constructs of the mind are *models of reality*, useful because they can help us to predict and/or control the future of reality (to evolutionists, this is the “selective advantage” that the mind gives us). The more accurate they are, the more useful they are. We might say that the sun will rise tomorrow, and we have an enormously high chance of that being an accurate prediction of that aspect of the future. However, it most definitely has a miniscule chance of being a poor model (the sun could blow up, etc). Just because something has happened so many times before that we cannot count it does not *guarantee* that it will happen again, it is just a very good prediction when you say it will happen again.
Even the “laws” of physics lie in this realm: they have always held (at least through human history), but that is no guarantee that they will always hold… They are just observations of how things *have been*, not guarantees of how they will be.
In this sense, then, all a “fact” or the “truth” is is a model for which we have very, very high confidence in its accuracy. If I think something is 99.99999999% accurate, I’ll probably call it a fact. Drop a few 9s, and I might still call it a fact. Take it to 90%, and I’d probably say something like “I *think* this is true”. Take it to 50%, and I’m certainly not going to say it is a fact.
It is oftentimes easier to be confident in a model of reality when it has occurred in the past; hence, many people are uncomfortable calling something in the future a “fact” (note, though, that just because something happened in the past doesn’t guarantee it as a fact; there are still a lot of people arguing about whether or not Jesus really rose from the dead, for example). There is nothing absolute in making this restriction, but certainly you are missing one very helpful thing in feeling confident about your model when you talk about the future: you can’t *measure* something that hasn’t happened yet, and measurement is an important part of making accurate models of reality. I think it is fair to say that most people would not count a prediction about baseball players’ futures as “facts”, just because history shows how unpredictable performance is. I suspect everyone would buy your prediction on Hampton as “you feel very strongly that Hampton has had his best year”, but I doubt anyone feels confident enough to call it a fact. But there really aren’t any black and white rules. I mean seriously, I’m not even sure we could agree on a definition of “best year” even in retrospect, so this can’t possibly be a “fact”.
As an aside: if you disagree with my statement that things in the past cannot be 100% accurate, consider an example like, oh, “I went to work yesterday”. Sure, that’s a “fact”, but there are still fuzzy edges all around. For example, where do I draw the boundary on “I”? When I eat a cheese-nip, is it part of “I”? This isn’t nearly the conundrum that the Greeks (big eaters of cheese-nips, the Greeks) made it: there is no magical point at which it becomes part of me. It is just that the model of reality that is the word “I” is a model that isn’t 100% accurate.
Similarly, all nouns are a little fuzzy if you go all the way down to the quantum level, since you can’t even tell where things are at that level. That doesn’t make these concepts useless, not at all: I have (there I go again, using that word “I”) been reasonably successful manipulating the world using a model of reality in which I approximate some part of it collectively as “I”. The problem with the greeks was they wanted things either exactly right or exactly wrong, whereas every single construct of our mind lies somewhere in between. What is needed is an aualitative and perhaps even quantitative understanding of the difference between good, accurate models (like the laws of physics) and poor models that have no predictive value (like “if I *believe* in something, that will make it happen”)(I was going to say “religion” but I’ve overstepped my TZ bounds enough already…)”
Sus S’s response…
“Welcome to the Talk Zone. You are now a full-fleged member.”
BEST DEER STAND TAKE OF THE YEAR
Melville, Saskatchewan
During speculation on Ken Caminiti’s back injury due to a deer stand incident in the offseason, Melville, Saskatchewan busted out with this…
“Are you the kind of guy who loves wacky hijinks and shenanigans? Do you entertain your friends with joy buzzers and whoopie cushions? Have we got the product for you!!! The Deer Blind Funseat 2000!!! With its special Collapse-O-Matic (patent pending) seat back, you’ll roar with laughter as your friends come tumbling down. Just listen to what these celebrity endorsers have to say:
‘This ol’ boy asked me to come huntin’, and I wuz just sittin’ in the blind thinkin’ about trucks when I fell right down and busted my butt,’ – Houston Astros slugging third baseman Ken Caminiti.
‘I just sat right down and the dang thing fell apart. I broke my dang leg,’ – San Diego Padres hurler Carlton Loewer.
‘Ever since I saw the plaintive look of a deer trapped in my car’s headlights, I’ve been unable to find the strength within myself to shoot one. I don’t want to hurt anyone. Do you like poetry?’ – Houston Astros pitcher Chris ‘Tabu’ Holt.
‘Did somebody say huntin? Count me in!’ – random NASCAR driver.”
BEST PERSPECTIVE ON THE DOC GOODEN ACQUISITION
Dwight “Doc” Gooden
When TZ went off the hook in January after Gerry The Hun signed the aged Gooden to a minor league contract, the man himself allegedly offered a few words to bolster confidence among fans…
“anybody got a taste? Juss a little taste, man. Thass all I need. That and a bottle of fine brandy. An some wimmens.”
BEST COMMENTARY ON EFUS SCOREBOARD ANIMATIONS
The DH
During a discussion of the sad and inapproprate pre-game animation at EFUS that portrays the infamous locomotive blasting through the logos of other teams at high speed, The DH suggested a more fitting solution…
“I think the train tonight, instead of running into logos of other teams, is going to run over a blind man with an irritable bowel and a 400 pound woman with gout in her big toe.”
BEST BREAKING NEWS DELIVERED IN TZ
pravata, Limey, Arky Vaughan
Immediately after the Giants announced “Rusty The Mechanical Man,” a freaking ridiculous 14′ robot that rides down a track and blasts water into the air as the potential feature attraction at PacBell Park, the wires became hot with controversy…
“The Mechanical Man, a promotional gimmick from Old Navy has notified the club that since the advertising contract was for one year only, he will explore his free agent options next year. The Man’s agent, Scott Boras, says that ‘The Man is a legitimate three tool player, he can run, slide and swing the bat, I think there will be some interest’ … A spokesperson for the Giants said, ‘in today’s market stuff like this happens all the time, I think that if we lose The Man we’ll just stuff confetti in the cannon, sheesh I dunno.’ The Mets have already contacted the Giants about their one track right fielder.” – pravata
“Reports coming out of the Commissioner’s office indicate that the Giants may be under investigation. Sources suggest that San Francisco signed the Mechanical Man to a major league contract before his sixteenth birthday. Mechanical Man’s agent, Scott Boras, said ‘this is a terrible violation of my clients rights, and he is suffering terribly as a result.’ Boras is campaiging to have Mechanical Man declared a free agent … MLB’s Commissioner, Bud Selig, has called a press conference for 3.00 pm EST. He is expected to announce the investigation into Mechanical Man’s signing, and also to confirm the controversial sponsorship deal struck recently that will have the World Series renamed the Hair Club for Men Series.” – Limey
“Rusty the Mechanical Man of the San Francisco Giants is in hot water these days over published remarks made during an interview with Sports Illustrated. In the interview the Mechanical Man, who is thought to be made of steel, insulted other automated beings made of aluminum, tin, brass, and iron. ‘How the hell did they get into this country, anyway?’ the Mechanical Man asked rhetorically.” – Arky Vaughan
“THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE” AWARD
Breedlove
Breedlove’s take on the Astros organization allowing kids to run the bases (a firing offense for unauthorized staff) as part of a special promotion in July…
“The small sacrifice of kids getting to run the bases is only being made so the children can be tagged for observation. This is also why you are allowed to check out books on making bombs from your local library… so you can be identified as a potential terrorist. Expect crotchety taxpayers aplenty to shout “you kids get out of my yard” on the 9th, unaware that undercover AstrosSecurityServices officers are carefully monitoring the children to identify just who might run on the field to wreak havoc as an adult.
The ASS officers can be identified easily if you know what to look for — Hawaiian shirt busy enough to hide the bulge of the gun, sunglasses with built-in digital camera, a leftover Astros spring training cap with easy-breathing mesh covering the wire to the earplug, a box of popcorn hiding the taser, and a soda in an Enron Field commemorative cup, just for suggestive selling. If these fine people had been on the job in Milwaukee twenty-five years ago, we may never have heard the name Burly Visgar or seen John Rocker mooned in Chavez Ravine.
The crime in all this is not that the children are allowed to run on our field. Far from it. That damage will be quickly and easily repaired by the recently hired head of the grounds crew. Roger Swain, the small, roundish, bespectacled man with the Quaker demeanor and smurfy overalls from “Victory Garden,” takes over after Independence Day. (http://www.victorygarden.org/cast.html)
No, the crime is that the ASS officers are largely comprised of off-duty HPD officers working second jobs. Perhaps you’re thinking “Oh no, I’m paying more than necessary for my tickets to have these guys around.” Don’t worry. The joke of the whole thing is that the city is providing these officers to Drayton McLane to use at his whimsy, at overtime pay rates.”
BEST COMMENTARY ON THE SUBJECT OF BAGWELL’S BEARD
various
When an offseason appearance at the club’s annual awards banquet revealed that Jeff Bagwell had a long-ass beard, all hell broke loose in TZ…
“I don’t know whether I was expecting Bagwell to: a) Break into the opening strains of “Tush”, b) Produce the trophy from his chin, or c) Command Pharoah to let his people go.” – MusicMan
“Think of the nourishment value. After about a month of crumbs and drippings and spit and stuff collecting in his beard, when it rains he will have instant soup… the one to keep an eye on is Lima – God only knows what he would come up with to top Bags… I definitely feel the ghost of Charley Kerfeld at work here.” – Stain
“This is giving me Captain Caveman flashbacks.” – Holly
“The underlying question here is, if Brillo Goat Gruff takes one in the beard, does he get a free pass to first?” – Mooch
“We need a lefty hitting second. That way, whoever it is won’t be interfered with by Baggy’s beard extending from the on-deck circle if they’re hitting from the far side of the plate.” – Limey
“Is he trying to force a trade to the House of David?” – Jim R
BEST SLAM OF BUD ADAMS
ric
This one appeared in a football-related thread after the Oilers ERRR…Titans rolled into the Super Bowl, and Zone-dwellers were speculating on a postgame scene that might feature The Bastard hoisting the Lombardi Trophy in victorious fashion…
“I’m actually looking forward to it, as I really think Bud’s emaciated arm muscles will give way, unable to keep the trophy aloft above his head as all 30 pounds of it crashes against his noggin … of course, his toupee may actually provide ample protection”
MOST CREATIVE PREDICTION
Roger Cedeno’s Spleen
Prior to the horrific Astros facing the 11-2, 1.60 Randy Johnson for the first time…
“WWUS84 KHGX 270908
SPSPHX
TXZ163-164-176>179-195>200-210>214-226-227-235>238-272100-
SPECIAL WEATHER STATEMENT
NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE PHOENIX AZ
928 AM PDT THU JUN 29 2000
…NO-HITTER WATCH IN EFFECT FOR THE PHOENIX METROPOLITAN AREA…
THE NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE HAS ISSUED A NO-HITTER WATCH FOR SOUTH-CENTRAL
ARIZONA EFFECTIVE UNTIL 12:00 AM PDT
A STRONG RIDGE OF OFFENSIVE INEPTITUDE IS EXPECTED TO DEVELOP LATE THIS AFTERNOON AND CONTINUE INTO THE NIGHT OVER MOST OF THE WATCH AREA. A LARGE UNIT… 98 MPH HEAT… AND ABUNDANT TROPICAL MOISTURE WILL COMBINE TO PRODUCE THIS ACTIVITY. ASTRO MENTAL OUTLOOKS ARE BLEAK SO ANY STORMS THAT DO DEVELOP WILL BE SLOW MOVING. STRIKEOUT RATES IN THE SLOWER MOVING STORMS MAY EXCEED 2 WHIFFS PER INNING.
AT THIS TIME IT APPEARS THUNDERSTORMS, RANDOM OUTBURSTS OF PROFANITY AND THOUSAND YARD STARES WILL DEVELOP INSIDE THE CLUBHOUSE AROUND 4 PM AND REACH INTERIOR COUNTIES BETWEEN 7 AND 10 PM. A WEAK LOW PRESSURE TROUGH ROUGHLY ALIGNED WITH THE ASTROS DUGOUT MAY FOCUS HEAVY RAINFALL ALONG A BATTER’S BOX TO BATRACK LINE DURING THE NIGHT. THESE HEAVY RAINS MAY FLOOD LOW SPOTS AND OTHER LOCATIONS WHICH TYPICALLY FLOOD WHEN WATERCOOLER SMASHING OCCURS.
IF A NO-HITTER DEVELOPS PLEASE AVOID FLOODED ROADWAYS. NEVER DRIVE A VEHICLE THROUGH AN ANGST-FLOODED ASTRO BROADCAST. FIND AN ALTERNATE STATION.
THIS IS A DANGEROUS SITUATION! IF A NO-HITTER DEVELOPS, QUICK ACTION MAY SAVE YOUR LIFE. MOVE TO A SMALL INTERIOR ROOM ON THE LOWEST FLOOR. ABANDON YOUR TELEVISION OR RADIO IMMEDIATELY AND FIND A STRONG SHELTER. IF SHELTER IS NOT AVAILABLE… MOVE TO A DITCH OR CULVERT AND COVER YOUR EARS.
PLEASE REPORT SEVERE WEATHER TO THE COUNTY SHERIFF…LOCAL POLICE… OR DEPARTMENT OF PUBLIC SAFETY. THEY WILL RELAY YOUR REPORT TO THE NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE.
STAY TUNED TO NOAA WEATHER RADIO FOR FURTHER UPDATES AND STATEMENTS.”
MOST WIDESPREAD ANNIHILATION DISHED OUT BY TZOL
February 1, 2000
As most Zone-dwellers are aware, debates of politics and religion account for a vast amount of Talk Zone Overlord activity. Off-topic or inane discussion usually accounts for the rest. January 31 – February 1 had it all. Rams QB Kurt Warner’s on-field prayer for injured Titans DB Blaine Bishop during the Super Bowl predictably started a war in the TalkZone, and TZOL enjoyed a banner day. Among the casualties, 142 posts (at the time, 57% of the board) – outdistancing the “Battle of ’98” as the most prolific carnage ever delivered by TZ’s grim defender.
FINEST RETORT IN THE FACE OF VALID STATISTICS
RocketMan Tex
After the Astros rolled the Pirates in the 2000 season opener, Cam Bonifay was quick to announce that Biggio and Bagwell were a combined 1-for-16 against game 2 starter Kris Benson, setting the stage for one of our favorite takes of the year…
“You’re going to need more than that drivel to cheer yourself up after this series, nutbush! I guess you’ll have to parade in front of the mirror in your old, stained ‘Franco’s Italian Army’ t-shirt. You know… the one with the holes in it and the Rolling Rock drool stains…”
Still cannot believe that dude dropped the “Franco’s Italian Army” reference. That and “nutbush” in the same take? It’s unreasonable smack like this that reminds us why we started the site in the first place.
BEST USE OF A SITE RESOURCE
RocketMan Tex – (Honorable Mention for Take Of The Year)
Back in May, dude used the entire contents of the massive Astrosconnection site glossary for perhaps the most epic take ever seen in TZ. The fact that dude was able to mix in a Philo Beddoe reference elsewhere in the same thread was just too monumental for us to handle.
“AA meetings are great because the topics of conversation run the gamut. Sometimes we discuss Adolf’s Cincinnati regime, sometimes Agent Jones’ random acts of kindness. But what’s most important is the guaranteed AIS. It’s always fun when someone shows up with an Angelos Fallacy and buys mugs of draft beer with Astro-Puff heads for everyone. Any who’d like to try it are most welcome; hell, for free beer AA members might even tolerate an ATL fan, as long as he enjoys making fun of B-Fat. Odds are he’d be yet another bandwagonner on the biggest bandwagon of all, but maybe we can show him Benito is an ass. Surely he already knows that if he reads the BFT.
Astros of yore like the Big Bopper are another favorite topic of conversation. If they played before the Big Milo, we can’t hear enough about them. We can hear enough about the Big Phone by the Bay, however. Billy D talk would surely be better.
As I write this, the goons on the rerun of Baseball Tonight are tsk-tsking Bionic Fat’s weak start. With any luck, the BFT’s blowtorch can handle the overload of traffic from Reds fans reading up on their hero.
Anyway, in the days before the BOB, the Bonham Bullet was the master of the brushback. The only guy in the world who didn’t know when he was going to hit a batter was the Bud Man. It’s difficult to imagine a better at-bat to watch than the Bullet throwing to C4 after hitting one of his teammates. Tense stares and random barking make for great television– if the Candy-Ass is calling it, just turn down the volume.
Not that Houston doesn’t have its own seemingly drunk PBP man. One night in the summer of ’99, the Astros were at Cape Coors and the Captain described a batted ball as a “smash” some 68 times. The Astros mounted a comeback reminiscent of the Cardiac Kids that night, but waving helplessly at cheese destroyed any hopes of a win. Maybe Cheo should drop the stopwatch and give some hitting tips, or at least fire the guys up like Chester Charge fired up the fans.
A little chin music always fires up hitters… maybe it could’ve helped the Chokers in the World Series, but it’s doubtful. That’s no Cinderella team. Watching them get rolled year after year is absolutely Clark, especially with Cletus spurning the Coif in favor of greasy curls only the Coneheads would properly have hidden. It never matters which crib they’re playing in, it always comes down to a Crisco K or a Cro-Magnon dong. I wonder why there’s nothing like CRUUUUUUUUUUZ going on for the Astros now? Does it have to do with the dumbing-down of fans by PBP-announcers crying yard with abandon? Is it part and parcel with the ADD of fans today? Maybe if it was shortened we could handle it. Obviously we don’t have the time for the announcer to say “The Demolition Man,” we can’t even stay all nine innings, like Dicketies fans flocking to the exits in droves after McGwire’s fourth at-bat.
The Mets look better than I thought this year, but still not that good. Dinero doesn’t play as much as he should, they really need a Doggie type in the outfield, and they’d be better served with the Donut Truck at first. They’ve got a Dr. Death wannabe in Turk Wendell, but that isn’t enough to overcome the soon-to-be-released Rickey Henderson doing his best E7 impression in left. It’ll be great when they roll into the EFUS. It’s not the Eighth Wonder of the World, as El Jefe will be quick to remind you, and El Loco can’t seem to pitch there or anywhere, but there’s nothing quite like beating a rich New York team; even if it’s not in the World Series against the Evil Empire with the Express on the hill.
A big part of Ryan’s longevity as a pitcher can be credited to his conditioning, which is why we were all shocked to hear of his heart trouble. It almost seemed the Fat Pig wasn’t fit to call his games, and surely the Fat Toad isn’t fit to be a Major League pitcher. But Berman can be avoided by listening to the Flag, and so can looking at Irabu.
I hope not to get flamed for this; it might not be as popular as the trough urinals on Foamer Nights, but Irabu made me think of Padre Phil and his band of California Frontrunners with zero game. The Padres need a pitcher who can throw gas. Name a pitcher on that team who can approach the Gas Can’s speed. You’d have an easier time convincing me that General Admission was a worthwhile addition to Astros baseball. I hope Gerry the Hun didn’t make that call. He’s got enough problems dealing with the Gestapo and Carl Everett gloss.
There was a notable absence of commentary on the looks of the Astros players from the GameZone last night. Maybe it really was GNO. I expected something on Caminiti’s going yard, but nada. Pitchers are really serving them up these days, and for once that includes all the Astros pitchers. The Golden Ruhle needs to get a handle on it; even Gortex blows saves by dropping balls, not gopher balls. Speaking of big flys, is that a gravy train in left field? It’s no substitute for the Great Wall of Houston, that’s for sure. Grimace would never of hit that, but he can certainly hit the tracks. Thanks, Grocer. Of course all the hacks at the lackey rag will gloss it like it’s a positive or something, but the fact that Baseball Annie Gammons likes it says it all. Now Hatcher’s Homer set it off, but Heavy D might’ve been able to hit the scoreboard– he could have hit the ball out of Hell on high cheese. I can just imagine the shooting guns on the Homerun Spectacular now. Oh boy, that makes me think of The Homer again. Homeron Field just isn’t home yet.
Lots of milestones are falling around baseball of late, including the 47-year career of Homo-Erectus. Not exactly huge, IMO, when compared to the 3000 hit barrier being broken by the Iron Nag. Lots of jack for that ball, I’d bet. I imagine Ripken would have liked being managed by Jalapeno Head because they’re cut from the same cloth in a lot of ways. Jimmy D might opine that two guys that tough were cut from the same burlap.
Could there be a more ridiculous mascot than Orbit? Hmm… Junction Jack springs to mind. WTF a rabbit has to do with Astros Baseball is beyond me. I wonder if it’s really Mike Magnante in that suit– JUNKtion Jack for the junkballer. Alas, M-squared has gone the way of the Killer B’s with the long-awaited departure of Derek Bell. Boy am I glad there’s not a “B” in La Mala’s name. Only real lackeys liked that nickname.
Speaking of lackeys, the Lackey Chron and Jim “Late” Rome must fairly be given that label since both have glossed Houston’s new launching pad, which doesn’t even have a Lefty’s Pub for Legend material. It’ll be interesting to hear what Little Joe has to say about it on ESPN Sunday Night Baseball this week. I’ll probably have more opportunity to LOL than when Ray K springs to the defense of Luca Brasi for getting unfairly treated for dropping a ball on the mound when he was facing lumber anyway. See how it feels to be in the minority, John, you missing link?
Man, after last night’s game I sure am glad the Murph’s favorite hero Nails returned home to end his career. When Nitro came in I was about as confident as the GameZoners who furiously write “The opposing pitcher has a no-no going (nm)” to jinx the opposition. I guess the Old Man knows a little about no-no’s, but I get the feeling any talk of OBP or OPS would be wasted on him. The only numbers he cared about were how many cans of Orange Whoopass he would open on the Dodgers, causing Tommy Lasorda to whine until he got thrown out of the game like that other fat-gutted team mascot Orbit, nee Orbit Simmons. Maybe the Outlaw will eventually pitch like Nolan. For now, he’s inspiring enough profanity to keep the Overlord wary. It was nice to see Pig-Pen come alive, too. It sucked to watch him get outplayed by the Piss Ant the last month; just knowing he had no chance against the Plumber unless the Brown was wild was disturbing. I bet PoH would’ve had a few things to say about Kevin Brown these days. Anyway, the game was a great turnaround from the ponche-infested impression of the Professor that Astacio put on Monday night when the Stros got punked worse than in the Racket fiasco. Still, all those runs make one long for the days of Rainbow Guts, a time before the Record, even before the Red Messiah was laid in that manger. The days when the Red Rooster ruled the roost.
There’s plenty of good in baseball today, though. Before you start ROFL, remember, every era has it’s Ronalds and Rynebergs and Scooby-Doos. We may not have the Scoreboard, Scotty’s no-hitter, or Scrap Iron anymore, and maybe we do start a few scrubs. We don’t even have the Sea Hag anymore, who might have had the best brief stint in Astros history, even better than Senor Smoke. But there’s plenty of Shiner, we theorize getting Slacker Jones, and we’re not a slappy team anymore. A few guys even have a decent SLG. It’s not a good time to talk smack to other teams’ fans; we just don’t have the smoke in our guns. But at least we can laugh at the Sniveling, Uptight Women as they rediscover the strike zone against other teams’ spares. And Caminiti instead of the Speed Bag is looking okay today. With his stick and defense, he’s playing like the Strangers of the last ten years, but there’s no doubt where his heart is, unlike T2. Yeah, TBS will continue to roll the Snivelers out there while we’re stuck with Taboo, but hey, with him we get beautiful takes after one of his tank jobs that raise the TalkZone Overlord from his slumber. How is he still an Astro? By day he’s a double agent in the offices of Team Bastard.
It would be great if we could have matchups of good players from different eras in their primes, like the Toy Cannon vs. the Trained Gorilla, or even grudge matches like the Traitor against Traitor II. The Truth would say they throw junk, but it’d still be fun to watch. The TZ would be spinning, and the TZOL would be reeling like Andruw Happy Jones did against Kile’s Uncle Charlie. He jumped out of the box so fast I thought he come out of his uni, inspiring razzing clearly heard from the upper tank.
Maybe I wouldn’t yearn for those matchups if the Wallet would let a little bread fly from his grocery store. Trading for the Whiner and the Witch, managed by the Wrangler, would be a beautiful thing. Add an X-Man type reliever, and Drayton would start to look like the Yacht Captain. Add in some hitters who can yack off a yacker instead of sitting dead-red, and the Houston yackwagon would grow to epic proportions.
But what do I know, I’m just a Zone-dweller.”
An “A” for effort, and without a doubt the longest TZ take of the year.
BEST REACTION TO GRIFFEY OVERHYPE
geezerdonk
“Following weeks of intense pressure from Peter Gammons and ESPN, Major League Baseball has announced that Ken Griffey, Jr. has been voted the NL and AL MVP, not only for the year 2000, but in perpetuity. Baseball has suffered widespread criticism lately for adhering to its reactionary policy of waiting until season’s end to announce award winners. The Commisioner’s Office denied charges that the delay was racially motivated. The ceremony will be held on April 13, the Reds’ next open date, at the foot of Mt. Rushmore where skilled craftsmen from all over the world are laboring 24 hours a day to transform the monument into four giant busts of the baseball legend. The award will be co-presented by holograms of Mother Teresa and Martin Luther King, Jr. created by famed movie maker and special effects wizard George Lucas. Griffey is reportedly miffed that the presenters are not appearing in person. During the ceremony, Griffey will be seated on a golden throne encrusted with diamonds from his discarded ear rings. The holograms of Dr. King and Mother Teresa will come forward with the award on their knees, eyes downcast to demonstrate appropriate respect. Reaction from Griffey headquarters has been sparse. “It’s about damn time.” his mother said. Griffey himself would only comment “I am exalted. I will be exalted.”
MOST INEBRIATED TAKE
nhcohen
“Yeah, I have had a little bit to drink tonight, but I jsut wanted to say that the Astros are reassly going to pull it togither now, the win last night was really big, and I think we aer going to tkae out the ass redbirds bitches. Have a nice night.”
Posted the morning after an off day, so we’re still not sure which game dude was watching.
FINEST ASTRODOME TRIBUTE
Carnac
“‘The Old Man and the K’
by Carnac Hemingway
A two-act play loosely based on a true events.
START OF PLAY
ACT ONE
The Setting: The Astrodome, circa 1983. Young Carnac, his old man, and his old lady have commuted to Houston to see The Old Man hurl against the Dodgers. The Astros lead 2-0 at the end of two, on the strength of a two-run clout by Jose Cruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuzzzzzz. The Old Man has fanned three Dodgers to this point including Pedro Guerrero, Greg Brock, and Jack Fimple.
Young Carnac: (informingly, to his old man) Dad, did you realize that Jack Fimple just became the 923rd different player to be struck out by the Ryan Express?
Carnac’s old lady: (angry) I can?t believe they let them do that!
Carnac’s old man: (perplexed) What?
Young Carnac: (confused) Huh?
The Old Man: (releases warm up toss) Grrrunnnttt!
Beer vendor: Coldest foam in the dome! Collllllllddddd Beeeeeeerrrrrr! Colbeer!
Carnac’s old lady: (angrier) I can?t believe they let them do that!
Carnac’s old man: (perplexed further) Who?
Young Carnac: (confused further) Huh?
The Old Man: (releases another warm up toss) Grrrunnnttt!
Carnac’s old lady: (angrier still, gestures toward the right field seats) The KKK has a sign hanging in the outfield!
Carnac’s old man: (Dome foam spews from the mouth, laughing hysterically).
Young Carnac: (dismayed by his old lady’s lack of baseball savvy) No, Mom. They hang a K for every strikeout Ryan records. He has THREE K?s!
Carnac’s old lady: (eureka) Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Huggins: Now batting for the Dodgers, Fernando Valenzuela.
The Crowd: (pockets of Mexican-Americans salute Fernando Valenzuela as he strides to the plate).
The Old Man: (releases first pitch to Fernando) Grrrrrrrrrrunnnnnttttttttttttt!
END OF ACT ONE
ACT TWO
The Setting: May 14, 2000. Ohio.
Old Carnac: (mourning, despondent) God bless her. I miss her dearly. Rest in peace, Astrodome.
Old Carnac: (to TZers) End of an era? Or the end of Astro baseball as we know it?
END OF ACT TWO
END OF PLAY
C.H.”
BEST EFUS COMMENTARY
Duez
After the Brewers overcame a 7-run deficit in the bottom of the ninth to punk the Astros back in May, sending them 12 games under .500, Duez reflected on the true price of EFUS…
“Man, I remember staying up late the night of the vote on the stadium referendum… I remember hoping and praying for the new stadium… although I knew the polls showed there wasn’t much chance. Then we win the vote by 1%.. whew… or NOT!”
Looks to me like Drayton made a deal with the DEVIL…
DEVIL: Well, Scrawny Grocer… I’ll give you your stadium… but, you’ll never win again!
GROCER: Can I have a train? With Smoke and a Bell?
DEVIL: Deal, sucka.”
TOP 10 ALAN ASHBY “GLASS HALF FULL” OBSERVATIONS OF THE YEAR
Austin Astroholic
“10. ‘On the plus side Milo, while Ward let the ball go over his head and roll to the wall, he didn?t smash his head into the wall chasing it down, which might have ended what is sure to be an incredible career from this youngster.’
9. ‘Milo, a win today could really signal that the Astros are ready to turn the season around and sustain a .900 winning percentage from here on out.’
8. ‘Jose Lima is fortunate that that was a baseball hit over the train tracks and not a pointy rock hit right back to the mound, because the way it was hit, it might have severed a vein, causing Jose to bleed out right on the field.’
7. ‘I don?t care what anyone says, that ball hit off of Dotel would have been out in ANY major league park.’
6. ‘The way Tony busted it down that line shows me he?s feeling no lingering effects from that hamstring, because he almost beat out that double play.’
5. ‘Every single position player was in the clubhouse on time today and that shows me this is a team with some real discipline.’
4. ‘As he steps in as the tying run with two outs in the ninth, we should remember that Tim Bogar has been known to hit for power on occasion.’
3. ‘The good news is that no one feels worse about that than Doug Henry, and that tells me what a fiery competitor he is.’
2. ‘That?s a mistake Julio Lugo will make less and less as his career progresses.’
And the number one Top Ten Alan Ashby ‘Glass Half Full’ Observation:
‘Remember, those runs are unearned.'”
FINEST “D WARD” TAKE
D WARD
Ah, the TZ cultural phenomenon known as the D WARD Take. TZ’s most famous troll has done plenty over the past year to make Zone-dwellers feel better about themselves, has killed innumerable threads with his quick wit, and has introduced “U FOO” as the first defining phrase of the new millennium. As the mysterious and ephemeral D WARD continues his climb towards Legend status, we felt it only fitting to preserve his most ridiculous retort for all posterity…
“IF U ON CRASH DIET THAN U FOO”
BEST STATEMENT REGARDING OPPONENTS’ GARB
Andyzipp
After Jim R had explained to BudGirl what the “TC” stood for on the Twins’ current cap and stated that it may have been the franchise’s original cap, Andyzipp disclosed a little known fact…
“Not really… the original hat had 2 live carp stapled to it. Worked fine in the cooler climes of the Twin Cities, but not so well on road trips.”
BEST DAVE CLARK REFERENCE
Breedlove
Breedlove’s quick look at the stats through June revealed a possible new standard for Astro pinch-hitting futility, but more importantly revived the spirit of the epic Andyzipp “Clark” takes for a new generation of TZ-dwellers…
“In 1998, Dave clark brought a twelve-year resume of lefthanded pinch-hitting excellence to a Houston ballclub sorely lacking just those talents. He produced a season that can only be described as Clark. In 131 at-bats, with a sneaky .548 OPS (yes, that’s the whole thing, not just SLG), Clark drove in a total of four runs, or one every 33 AB’s.
Now, lost amidst the Astros season of woes, at least one player is quietly attacking one of the teams’ more notable records. He too is a specialist; a righthanded pinch-hitter who chews up lefties and spits them out. Matt Mieske’s assault on Clarkdom looks like this: 50 at-bats, a shifty .521 OPS (yes, that’s the whole thing, not just SLG), and 2 RBI. At one RBI for every 25 AB’s, Mieske remains behind Clark’s record-setting pace, but Clark should be warned that the chase is on.
Mieske’s assault may go unnoticed but for those in the know, but people around the league are starting to follow The Chase. Shawn Green remarked, “I was just getting used to calling everything Clark.” Craig Biggio said of his teammate, “Mieske is a little harder to say than Clark, but we’ll adjust.” “%#&*!” was Mitch Meluskey’s mercurial reaction, which captured the mood of teammates split in their loyalties between the man who did so much for the ’98 playoff team and the man they now share a clubhouse with. “We won’t let this affect us on the field,” manager Larry Dierker remarked.
Lefthanded pitching killer Mieske has left quite an impression around the league. Asked to comment, Randy Johnson declined. Tom Glavine responded, “Matt who?” “Yeah, I remember him,” was Mike Hampton’s elusive reply.
In this disappointing season Astros fans looking for something to cheer for may have finally found it in The Chase.”
MOST HEARTWARMING STORY OF THE YEAR
Alkie
“It’s Mardi Gras ’99, New Orleans. We’re walking from our camp (a minivan) at Tulane University to the French Quarter, stopping at every liquor store along the way. My good friend Matt decides to get a bottle of Boone’s Strawberry Hill and whips it out on the street to start drinking it.
One of the nastiest, most disgusting, trashy whores I’ve ever seen in my life (two legs) walks over to him, grabs his shoulders and yells ‘DRINK THAT BOONE’S BABY! OHHHHH YEEAHH!’
The story loses something on the Net, but just trust me, it cured us forever.”
BEST ADVICE FOR LARRY DIERKER
JB – (Honorable Mention for Take Of The Year)
Immediately after the Astros dropped a 9-6 10-inning affair to the Dodgers in June which was fraught with confusing late inning moves and non-moves…
“Dear Mr. Dierker:
I’m glad you’re the Astros manager. You have managed through some amazing difficulties in the past and skippered them to three division championships. That’s good.
I’ve just returned from tonight’s game, and while you don’t know me from Adam, I’d like to point out a few features of the game with which I believe you may be unfamiliar.
1) A REGULATION GAME IS 9 INNINGS. This is important to remember. Say, for example, that you are the home team and the score is tied in the bottom of the ninth. If you can score just one run, the game is automatically over. The other team will not get another chance.
2) WHEN PLAYING AT ENRON FIELD, THE ASTROS ARE THE HOME TEAM. If you can see a great big choo-choo on the left field wall, your team (the Astros) is the home team.
3) BASE RUNNERS MAY ADVANCE ON FLY BALLS. If you can get a man to third base with less than two outs and then manage to get a batter to hit a deep fly ball, the runner at third is allowed to run from third to home after the ball has been caught. If you are the home team and the score is tied in the ninth inning, this could win the ballgame.
4) THE RULES ALLOW A PLAYER TO “BUNT” THE BALL, INSTEAD OF SWINGING AT IT. Say you have a player at second base (let’s call him . . . “Lance”) with no outs (and just for fun let’s say it’s in the bottom of the ninth and the score is tied). You may instruct your batter (by having your third base coach use “signals”) to hold his bat parallel to the ground and simply tap the pitched ball, causing it to roll slowly away from home plate. This is called “bunting.” By bunting the ball toward the third baseman, and forcing him to field it, you can force the defense to settle for throwing out the batter at first and successfully move “Lance” from second to third. In or hypothetical situation, you would now have a man at third with less than two outs. (Please see #3, above.)
5) THE RULES OF MAJOR LEAGUE BASEBALL ALLOW A MANAGER TO SUBSTITUTE ONE HITTER FOR ANOTHER. This little-known tactic is called “pinch hitting.” The theory is that in certain situations, it may be more important to get a hit than to stay with a particular position player. For example, let’s say its the bottom of the ninth inning (see #1, above), you are the home team (see #2, above), with men on first and second and no outs you have just bunted the runners to second and third (see #4, above), and now, with one out, you just need a fly ball to bring home the winning run (see #3, above). Assume for a moment (just assume) that the batter who is due to hit came into the game hitting .125 on the season (see #6, below) and that you have sitting on the bench another player who plays the very same position who came into the game hitting .386 (see #7, below). You may remove the .125 hitter and substitute the .386 hitter, thus roughly tripling your chances of getting a hit or a deep fly ball.
6) .125 IS NOT A GOOD BATTING AVERAGE. A player whose batting average is .125 is not a very good hitter. He is not a player you would want to have batting in a pressure situation like, for example, the bottom of the ninth with men in scoring position and the game tied. You might want to consider pinch hitting for him (see #5, above).
7) .386 IS A PRETTY GOOD BATTING AVERAGE. A player whose batting average is .386 is a pretty good hitter (or is at least on a pretty good tear). As a general rule, players with higher batting averages make excellent pinch hitters (see #5, above) for players with lower batting averages.
I hope that pointing out these admittedly obscure and arcane facets of our national pastime may be of some use to you should you ever find yourself in circumstances such as those described above. Thank you for all that you have done for the Astros and for all that I know you will continue to do.”
BEST ACCOUNT OF HUNSICKER REVISIONISM
pravata – (Honorable Mention for Take Of The Year)
After providing an account of a Gerry The Hun interview back in March, pravata was questioned as to whether the issue of Biggio’s glaring lack of triples in 1999 was addressed at all…
“There was a preternatural, eerie, unnatural, weird, odd, bizarre, almost conspiratorial, silence which precluded any mention or thought on the matter of triples. There were vague hints, references, furtive movements just out of the peripherial vision, suggestive of vast unknown landscapes, hollow places in the black spaces between the stars, blackness upon blackness spiraling into an abyss of unknowing, daring anyone of mortal sanity to mention the lack of triples. Biggio is said to have brooded in the off season, on the steps of an ancient and crumbling temple, despondent and dour, despairing of his brush with the greatness of the statistic of the accumulation of doubles.
I swore an oath that I’d never mention the suspicious lack of triples for Biggio in the 1999 season, and so I failed to report on the hints and innuendo pregnant in every pause of Hunsicker’s soliloquy on Biggio’s spring training labours. In short, no.”
BEST OFF-TOPIC COMMENTARY
pravata
Minutes after ABC announced its new Monday Night Football announcing crew of Al Michaels, Dan Fouts and Dennis FREAKING Miller, all hell broke loose in TZ. pravata summed up everyone’s thoughts of a broadcast featuring the smug Miller.
“…God forbid we should get some commentary that is vaguely related to the game we are watching. I can imagine this pre-Parkinson’s head bobber blabbering about pop cultural references while trying to find a connection between whatever psuedo-philosophical misconceptions are chasing their tails in his head on that particular day and the fact that Tampa Bay just ran the ball on 3rd and 7. Like I don’t have enough of that in my life. I know it’s just entertainment but what is entertaining about it is that it is football. Do us all a great big moon pie favor and stick to stringing your pretty word pictures together about a topic that has no possible effect on our lives, politics. OK? That’s just my opinion, I could be wrong.”
BEST COMMENTARY ON ALKIE’S PERSONAL LIFE
various
How many messages does it take to get from Whitey Gammons bashing to Alkie’s seemingly unrelated sordid past? Lets find out…
Breedlove: “Mr. Jackson is getting up in years and cannot be expected to remember what he has written from one week to the next. Darts, a scratched off Mass lotto ticket, and a beagle with a cone over his head all figure into his trade scenarios.”
Trey: “Don’t forget about the three shaved monkeys, a bicycle, a midget, and two cans of tennis balls.”
Wild Dog: “Was that a male or female midget, and if female, how many legs did she have?”
Trey: “Technically she had three, but one only had two toes, so I don’t know if you can really count that one. Gammons is such a total freak. I mean, what sick twisted person would think about dogs with cones on their heads and female midgets with two and a half legs?”
Wild Dog: “Alkie.”
Trey: “Alkie can’t ride a bicycle, and he likes hairy monkeys.”
Wild Dog: “Ask him about his one-legged midget experience.”
BEST HUMOR AT THE EXPENSE OF THE DISABLED
Limey
In response to a recent Rob Neyer article highlighting the history of player ejections that among other things, brought to light the fact that deaf mute Dummy Taylor was ejected five separate times…
“just picture the scene…
Ump: ‘Don’t you look at me like that!’
Dummy:
Ump: ‘I’m warning you.’
Dummy:
Ump: ‘That’s IT! You’re OUTTA HERE!’
Dummy:
Ump: ‘I SAID, YOU’RE OUTTA HERE!’
Dummy:
Ump: ‘GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!'”
FINEST SLAMZONE MOMENTS
various
Ah, who can forget the historic first post of the ill-fated ALL-SLAM FRIDAY, that unfortunately set the tone for the kind of generally weak smack that we would witness over the next five weeks…
“Kyle’s mom is a fat bitch.” – Eric Cartman
Despite such humble beginnings, the SlamZone did provide the setting for a select number of genius blasts, which were recognized at the time with “Slam of the Week” honors. Here they be, in chronological order…
All-Slam Friday, 09/03/99 – hosted by Bill Clinton, president of the United States
Winner: JB
Subject: MLB Umpire Union Chief Richie Phillips
“Dear Mr. Phillips:
Let me be the first to congratulate you on your fine representation of your clients at Overeaters Anonymous, a.k.a, the Major League Umpires Association. Without you, these men would be working a grueling 600 hour work year for as little as $150,000. Thanks to your tireless efforts, however, they can now look forward to a life spent cashing generous unemployment checks and selling used baseballs on Ebay.
WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING!!!! Have you ever opened your mouth, even once, for any purpose other than changing the foot that was previously in there?! What delusions of adequacy led you to so totally misrepresent your clients? Stop now, and crawl back into the cesspool from which you arose. You are depriving a village somewhere of an idiot. Lest there be any doubt as to utter contempt for your legal skills and judgment, let me just say that I wouldn’t piss on your face if your teeth were on fire!”
All-Slam Friday, 09/10/99 – hosted by Ricky Martin, latin sex symbol and international superstar
Winner: Colt45
Subject: Cleveland Indians Fans
“Good God! Have ya’ll run into any of these stupidly fat, pompously deluded, morally corrupt assholes?! They’re worse than Cryboys fans. I’ve attended a home series in Cleveland every year since ’96 and they get more f***ing obnoxious every year. They have surpassed Cubs fans in spewing “We Rule! You Suck!” rhetoric and excuse making for why they haven’t won it all since 1954. It’s always a conspiracy when things don’t go their way especially regarding free agency signings and trades. Everybody’s out to screw the Indians (never mind that John Hart is seemingly unable to pull the trigger on a single deal to aquire a true number one starter). The Braves screwed them out of Neagle, the Astros screwed them out of Randy Johnson, the Yankees screwed them out of Clemens. They’re already discussing who’ll be screwing them out of A-Rod and Griffey. Everybody’s jealous of the Tribe! Everybody is in cahoots to screw the Tribe!!
F*** them!! Tell Hart, for once, to trade some friggin’ prospects for a starter and stop your goddamn puking! Facing the facts and admitting their rotation is woefully inadequate would be the first step of many toward growing the hell up and rejoining reality.
The final straw was last season when I attended a series between Cleveland and Detroit in Tiger Stadium. A partisan Tribe crowd schlepped up from Northern Ohio, Oldsmobuicks festooned with Chief Wahoo (you could stamp Chief Wahoo’s face on a turd and make a mint in Cleveland), fishbelly white flesh oozing from beneath Wahoo bedecked garb and proceeded to make a complete and utter ass of itself by acting like they own the place. It’s one thing to run smack in your own house but, these classless assholes were acting as if it was Game 7 of the Series. I witnessed more than one yelling match between some drunken Son of Geranimo and a truly perplexed Tiger fan who kept pointing out that the Tribe was in the midst of a pummelling. And of course, after dropping a laugher to the lowly Tigers, we were treated to a barful of these idiots chanting, “Tigers suck!” at an establishment just outside the ballpark. They were briefly quieted by some stray Yankees fans who politely asked if anyone had actually witnessed the Tribe’s most recent World Series championship. A chorus of “Yankees suck!” began shortly after the New Yorkers left. Assholes AND Cowards!
No one will be happier than I when the Tribe plummets back to mediocrity (granted that may take awhile what with them playing in the AL Comedy Central) and all these hypef***s jump off the bandwagon. I am already relishing the impending implosion once this over-hyped, over-exposed (how many f***ing times has ESPN televised Cleveland – Seattle since the ’95 playoffs?) and over-achieving pack of beer-leaguers faces some real pitching in the playoffs.”
All-Slam Friday, 09/17/99 – hosted by Neil Armstrong, first man to walk on the moon
Winner: RocketmanTex
Subject: Aggies
“Texas A & M Aggies are walking, talking sociological mutants. They aren’t born…they are either hatched or they spring forth from under a cowpie mushroom. Name another college football team that has all male cheerleaders in garbage suits. Name another college football team whose all-male cheerleaders squeeze their squishy peanut-sized testicles as hard as they can while yelling “Hold ’em Ags!”. I dare you. When I see those farmboys in military dress & sandpaper haircuts kissing their swine-like sweethearts after an Aggie touchdown, I want to puke green bile. What makes me even sicker is knowing for a fact that Buford B. Aggie’s high school girlfriend was a sheep. Woman, do you know where this retard’s mouth and genitalia have been?? If I were you, I’d run for the hills and if I were him, I’d stick with the sheep…at least you can cook em up for dinner after you finish your post-sex dip of Skoal (do you really think an Aggie would smoke a cigarette after sex?). In conclusion, I beg Governor Bush to build an electric fence around the A&M campus so that Aggies can no longer escape to pollute the rest of the state. It is the morally correct thing to do, and he would win my vote for President if he did.”
All-Slam Friday, 09/24/99 – hosted by Masaharu Morimoto, Iron Chef Japanese
Winner: Dan Blocker
Subject: Los Angeles
“I realize that bagging on L.A. is about as fresh as Angeline, but I feel I’ve got a certain sense of entitlement since I?ve had to live here for the last five years.
How do I hate thee, Los Angeles? Let me count the ways:
Could it be because I’m forced to watch the execrable Dodgers battle the likes of the Marlins every night and on every Fox Game of the Week, just because their baseball-ignorant, dingo-loving owner owns every freakin? network in America? Could it be because overhyped five-tool Raul Mondesi is such a supreme tool, yet the Dodgers, despite Raul’s recent meltdown, want sign him and his beer gut to a $100 million contract extension? Could it be because Eric Karros, the Dodger’s best first-sacker since Greg Brock, has once again managed to hit 90% of his home runs off September scrub call-ups? Could it be because the Dodgers gave a convicted sodomite, Carlos Perez, a $35 million contract to pitch in AAA, and I’ve got to pay for it with their ridiculously jacked up concession prices? Could it be because the Dodgers are now such a classless and reviled organization that Don Sutton, of all people, questions their loyalty? Could it be because the Dodgers’ last more-than-memorable memory came 11 years ago, when Jerk Gibson took Eckersley yard, as half the fair-weather Dodger fans were already in their cars hauling ass for the parking lot exits? Could it be because Scully himself called the shot from the back seat of a cab?
Could it be because the Lakers, like the f***ing Knicks, have that special “salary structure”, one which allows them to magically “squeeze” lard-ass Shaq, Kobe, Rice, Horry, Fox, and $40 million uber-stiff Travis Knight under the cap? Could it be because they still have enough “under the cap” to throw $25 million at that toe-tag Derrick Fisher, who, despite lighting up the Rockets in last year’s playoffs, is quite possibly the worst starting point guard in the history of the NBA, at least since Pooh Richardson. Could it be because 100-year-old Chick Hearn, seemingly like every other old-fart announcer from a “fabled” franchise (i.e. sphincter-throated Johnny Most; slavering, stroke-riddled Harry Carey), is blindly venerated even though he’s long since been able to distinguish Fred Roberts from Nick Van Exel? Could it be that the Lakers are on national TV about 50 times this year, even though the last time they won anything was way back when parachute pants were in style?
Could it be that since L.A. has some God-given right to be awarded a football expansion team, even though 98% of its viewing audience thinks “football” means soccer? Could it be that when L.A. last had a football team, the only highlights were of somebody getting shived, pissed on, or set ablaze in the cheap seats of the Mausoleum?
In fact, the only thing there is to like about L.A. is that thanks to this f***ed-up time zone, I get to miss Ray Knight?s big head and ignorant blatherings on the early edition of ESPN Baseball Tonight.”
All-Slam Friday, 10/01/99 – Lionel Ritchie, Motown legend
Winner: Spinal Tarp
Subject: The SlamZone
“Two words: Shit Zone”
ROOKIE OF THE YEAR
Limey
Despite tarnishing the Colonist’s English with crap like “colour”, “centre” and “Bollocks”, Limey managed to dominate the field in route to the coveted 2000 ROY award. In addition to adding some relative class to this freaking place, dude instigates some of the longest threads you will ever see, delivers quality blasts against trolls and idiot opposing fans alike, posts breaking news ripped off from the wire services with astonishing frequency, and has often been the only guy posting on the board during many wee hours. Jolly good show.
TAKE OF THE YEAR
JB
As the Astros dropped to 7-13 and the NL Central cellar after a 12-3 drubbing at the hands of the lowly Cubs back in April, Counselor brought the goods…
“Well, here we are mired in the bowels of the standings, finding comfort in the fact that at least we’re better than Detroit. Who would have thought that I’d ever get teary eyed and feel actual gratitude listening to a Mr. Giant-Foam-Finger-Maker commercial. Oh, yes, I know. It’s a long season. Indeed. At this rate, it will be a VERY long season. Somebody wake me up and tell me this is all a bad dream.
And now, a reading from the book of Stros.
Stros 1:6-12 (God’s bet with Satan)
6 One day the angels came to present themselves before the LORD, and Satan also came with them.
7 The LORD said to Satan, ‘Where have you come from?’ Satan answered the LORD, ‘From roaming through the earth and going back and forth in it.’
8 Then the LORD said to Satan, ‘Have you considered Stros? There is no one on earth like them; they are blameless and upright, a team that fears God and shuns evil.’
9 ‘Do the Stros fear God for nothing?’ Satan replied.
10 ‘Have you not put a hedge around them and their household and everything he has? You have blessed the work of their hands, so that their division titles are spread throughout the land.
11 But stretch out your hand and strike everything they have, and they will surely curse you to your face.’
12 The LORD said to Satan, ‘Very well, then, everything they have is in your hands, but on Dierker do not lay a finger.’ Then Satan went out from the presence of the LORD.
Stros 30:20-30 (The Stros Lament)
20 ‘We cry out to you, O God, but you do not answer; We take the field, but you merely look at us.
21 You turn on us ruthlessly; with the might of your hand you attack us.
22 You snatch us up and drive us before the wind; you toss us about in the standings.
23 We know you will bring us down to death, to the place appointed for all the living.
24 Surely no one lays a hand on a broken man when he cries for help in his distress.
25 Have we not wept for those in trouble? Have not our souls grieved for the poor?
26 Yet when we hoped for good, evil came; when we looked for light, then came darkness.
27 The churning inside us never stops; days of suffering confront us.
28 We go about blackened, but not by the sun; We stand up in the batter’s box and cry for help.
29 We have become brothers of Tigers, a companion of Phillies.
30 Our skin grows black and peels; our bodies burn with fever.'”
Amazing. Dude posts exactly five times a year (two if you don’t count Santurce Crabbers winter ball updates) and clocks multiple HOF recognition, while hundreds toil in virtual TZ obscurity.
2000 TALK ZONE MVP
Alkie
(intro paragraph – obligatory diss)
An unusual road to fame, this year’s recipient emerged strong from the torched earth of TZ left behind by the monumental 1999 performance of TZ Legend Andyzipp. Once a red flag on TZOL radar, this Zone-dweller survived to deliver a seemingly endless supply of material, and some of the strangest takes ever seen.
After limited success as “Zac G,” dude implemented a controversial name change to “Astro Alcoholic” which created an immediate impact, reminiscent of vigilante millionare Bruce Wayne coming up with the idea for the Batman suit and gaining a profound tactical advantage after getting his ass kicked in the street a few times. After shortening the moniker to its now-famous version, everyone’s favorite bartender gave us unique insight into the life of the typical early-20-something Austin freak.
While not exactly the stories of wine, women and song (more like beer, prostitutes, and unemployment) one might have anticipated, his late night ramblings, reactionary tangents, Holt-bashing, and whack perspectives led the way for TZ in 2000. Kev & Scott are pleased to name Alkie as the winner of this year’s Golden Scott and your 2000 KING OF THE ZONE.