Thanks for coming to my office, Tom. Please, sit down.
I do not require a seat at this particular juncture.
Well, there’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll cut right to the chase. We know you’ve made a lot of strides in your rehab, but the Braves organization has made the decision to release you.
I understand.
I know this won’t make it any easier, but this was purely a financial decision for us. In these times, we simply can’t afford to put you on the major league roster.
I concur that such a course of action could prove fiscally disadvantageous in the current economic climate. Particularly when it hinges on a pitcher of my advanced age and recent injury history.
Tom, I want you to know that this decision was really heartbreaking for us. You’ve meant so much to the Braves, and we know the fans won’t be happy about this.
Perhaps, but one shouldn’t let such emotional considerations interfere with the conducting of one’s business.
I thought you’d be more shocked to hear this. Or at least a little bit shocked.
‘Shock’ is a word that has no meaning for me. There is only probability. A more appropriate word for this particular contingency is ‘unlikely’, as, according my calculations, I had only a 7.53% chance of being released before this moment. Of course, over time, the likelihood of all events veers either toward 100% or 0% certitude.
I meant, this is the team you came up with, the team you won a World Series with, you won a bajillion division titles with…
I am aware of all these past events, having participated in them. I’m not quite quite sure what point you are attempting to convey.
What I mean is, I thought this news would stir up more emotions in you.
No, that would be impossible. Prior to my junior year of high school, I found myself imprisoned in a profound depression that negatively impacted my ability to pitch. So I endured an experimental surgical procedure called an empathectomy. It was originally developed as part of the CIA’s MK-ULTRA project to help breed an army of remorseless super-assassins, but Dr. James Andrews was able to learn the procedure’s secrets and develop it for more benign purposes. I believe it is now popularly referred to as Tommy Glavine Surgery.
How do they even do that?
I have no memories of the procedure, or of any part of my life prior to it. Due to the pure physical trauma required by the procedure, my brain has eliminated all recollection of it as a psychological defense mechanism. Regardless, the procedure left me unable to feel any human emotion and transformed me into the future Hall of Famer you see before you.
You can’t feel any emotions at all? No joy? Fear? Ecstasy? Anguish?
None of these.
Not even devastation?
Particularly not devastation. Perhaps some emotions are best unfelt.
I don’t know, that sounds like horrifying way to live.
Perhaps it would be, if I could feel horror.
I guess there’s nothing more to do but to shake your hand and wish you good luck…yikes, your hand is as cold as ice! You’re not sick, are you?
No, my blood has simply been removed and is currently being fortified in a powerful nutrient-rich incubus of my own design.
Wow. I am profoundly disturbed.
As would I be, were I able.
Tag Archives: braves
Zen and the Art of Hating Chipper Jones
I cannot possibly express to you the depths of my hatred for Chipper Jones. I’m not even going to try. The English language doesn’t have the right words. Not even the German language does.
But I can provide some reasons for why he should go eat several bags of dicks. Like him bitching about the umpires in last night’s game:
Let’s just say the baseball gods owe us one… The game came down to one play, and the umpire got it wrong. Why he got it wrong, I don’t know… I never had a guy slide into my glove and be safe… That’s the whole game… We played a perfect game and got it taken away from us… It was a well-played game on both sides… That was top-notch baseball, and it was decided by a blown call.
Odd that Chipper would invoke the baseball gods, since I also mentioned them in a pair of tweets last night. I mentioned them because the Mets got a bad call to their detriment in the bottom of the 8th, when Jose Reyes tried to stretch his 1-out 2-RBI double into a triple. The throw beat Reyes, but a replay showed that Chipper didn’t apply a tag in time.
It was the kind of bang-bang play that only instant replay could definitively resolve. But since baseball thinks easily fixable human error is charming, the incorrect ruling stood.
Chipper didn’t say anything about that play, even though he was the man who fielded the ball. The play Chipper chose to whine about, though it was a stolen base attempt instead of an extra base hit, involved an essentially identical set of circumstances: a very close play on a runner who represented the tying run trying to reach third with less than two out.
I don’t think it was the umps’ intent to give the Mets a break after screwing them earlier. In the absence of available replay, I doubt the umps knew they blew either call. But in essence, that’s what they did. I even said at the time, “That’s totally a make-up call for the last inning.” (The Wife will bear witness that I actually said this out loud in full Baseball Nerd mode.)
This year and last, the Mets seem to get an enormous amount of blown calls in their games–most of which go against them. I know that sounds like Total Homer-ism, but my totally unscientific mental survey will bear me out.
It’s hard to prove, since neither MLB nor Retrosheet keep Blown Calls as a stat. But I recall at least four homers hit by Mets that were ruled ground-rule doubles or fouls last year, and at least two balls hit against the Mets that should have been ruled doubles/fouls that were called home runs. My point is, I think the baseball gods owe the Mets some good karma. (I’m not referring to the collapses of the two previous seasons, which are almost entirely bad karma of their own design.)
Not to mention that historically, when the Mets play the Braves, they never get any kind of break whatsoever. Granted, that’s because for many years the Braves were just flat-out better. But there were plenty of games that turned on worse blown calls than the ones Chipper was involved in.
Chipper said the game was “decided by a blown call,” but it was actually decided by two blown calls. One took a runner that should have been on third and called him out. The other took a runner that should have been called out and put him on third. Both men represented the tying run. One was erased, another took his place. The run scored, even after a delay in his arrival
You wanted a balancing of accounts from the baseball gods, Chipper? You got it. Yin and yang. Go in peace, my son.
And as you go in peace, please fall into an open manhole.
Fanning the Flames: Lowe-Down
I often write about the Mets on this site, but I realize that my perspective is not necessarily that of the average fan. So as the Hot Stove League heats up, I want to get the viewpoint of another Amazins enthusiast. Today Scratchbomb welcomes back Sean from Massapequa, a union pipefitter and frequent WFAN caller, to discuss the Mets’ pursuit of Derek Lowe.
It looks like the Mets’ next free agent target is Derek Lowe. Do you think he’ll round out the rotation?
Yeah, if by “round it out” you mean “ruin it.” That guy’s a bum! I don’t want him nowhere near my team!
He’s not an ace, but you can’t call him a bum. He’s won a World Series, he’s got a good track record in the post season, he’s a solid starter, groundball pitcher, throws 200 innings every year…
Yeah, 200 innings of solid suck! Once again, we see the Freddy Coupons cheapin’ out on this team and not goin’ for the big guns.