Marinerds, etc.


Welcome to Monday Night Baseball! You are a pro baseball team in Japan!
Tonight you are facing the Yakult Swallows.
You have one runner on first base in the first inning.

> get a run

I don't understand that command. You must mean "bunt".

> bunt

You have a runner on second base and one out. Inaba is at the plate. He is good at baseball.

> hit the ball

You try, but you only succeed in grounding out and striking out.

> strike the opponents out

You try, but they aren't swinging. Perhaps you meant "walk them"?

> walk them

OK. Fortunately, your fielding prevents them from scoring... for now.
It's the third inning. You have a runner on first and one out.

> get a run

I don't understand that command. You must mean "ground into a double play".

> ground into a double play

OK.

> inventory

You are carrying:
1 decent outfielder
4 backup outfielders
3 catchers
3 decent infielders
7 dudes who really can't do anything but DH or play 1B
1 golden rookie (cursed)

It's the 4th inning. You have a runner on first and no outs.

> get a run

I don't understand that command. You must mean "bunt".

> bunt

OK. The rest of your batters also fail to do anything productive.

It's the 6th inning and the other team is up to bat.

> throw a strike

OK. The batter hits you for 1 base point of damage.

> strike them out

I don't understand that command. You must mean "walk them".

> walk them

OK. There are now runners on first and second.

> strike them out

I don't understand that command. You must mean "walk them".

> walk them

OK. The bases are now loaded.

> swear

You swear. It does 2 points of damage as Guiel hits the next pitch into centerfield.

They have gained the lead.

Swallows: 2
Fighters: 0

> change pitchers for the love of god already

OK. To who?

> put in Ejiri

OK. Ejiri allows another runner to score on a groundout but otherwise gets out of the inning intact.

Fighters: 0
Swallows: 3

> sing fight song

Your fans sing the fight song. You now have enough mana points to cast one spell.

> cast "hit ball"

OK. You wave your wand very hard and the ball goes bounding towards the third baseman and the throw is not in time! It does 1 base point of damage.

> get a run

I don't understand that command. You must mean "walk".

> walk

OK.

> hit the ball

OK. You wave a Nioka at the ball and it does another base point of damage. The bases are now loaded.

> sing bouncy chance music

OK. The chance music recharges your mana points.

> recast "hit ball"

You wave a Makoto Kaneko at the ball. It does another hit point of damage and loads the bases.

Fighters: 1
Swallows: 3

They change pitchers to Matsuoka.

> cast "hit ball"

I'm sorry, you are out of mana points. You fly out to second instead.

> cast "hit ball"

I'm sorry, you are out of mana points. You strike out instead.

> hit the ball

With what?

> kensuke tanaka's bat

OK. You hit the ball with Kensuke Tanaka's bat. It does 2 points damage.

They no longer have the lead.

Fighters: 3
Swallows: 3

> get a run

I don't understand that command. You must mean "strike out".

> kutabare yomiuri

You wave your umbrella around and dance for the 7th inning stretch.

> get a run

I don't understand that command. You must mean "fail to do anything productive against former closer Ryota Igarashi and current closer Chang-yong Lim".

> yeah that

OK.

> change to a decent pitcher for the bottom of the 9th

OK. To who?

> put in micheal nakamura

I'm sorry, that item is not in your inventory.

> put in tateyama

OK. Yoshinori Tateyama takes the mound for you.

> put in shohei tateyama

I'm sorry, that item is not in your inventory.

> steal their tateyama

I don't understand that command. You must mean "give up a double."

> put in the GOOD tateyama do you hear me

I don't understand that command. You must mean "lose the game 4-3 on a walkoff single by Shinichi Takeuchi".

> quit

Do you want to save before you quit? (y/n)

> y

Then why did you put in Tateyama? Zing!

Final score:
Fighters: 3
Swallows: 4

You are in a maze of twisty little interleague games, all different...

Softbank at Chiba Lotte. Hawks 7, Marines 6.

It was a hot, sunny day in Chiba Marine Stadium. There was no wind coming off the bay, and the ground must have been at least 40-45 degrees Celsius. Heat lines waved in the distance, and the grounds crew worked frantically to wet the dirt so people wouldn't end up with mouthfuls of dust every time anyone ran around on the infield.

Marines catcher Tomoya Satozaki stood on home plate with Ken Shinzato, tossing baseballs to batting coach Frank Ramppen to hit out for fielding practice. He watched the Marines players running around, thinking how they were at least lucky not to be wearing dark black uniforms like the Hawks on such a sunny day. He called Shinzato over.

"Dude, I have an idea," Satozaki said.

"What's that?" Shinzato said, tossing another ball to coach Ramppen.

"I think we've been going about this all wrong. We need to play a slightly different game today than usual."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. See, we've already beaten these big Kyushu birds twice this weekend. If we beat them again, it'll be a completely whitewashed series for us. But usually, when you want to clean something up, you get out a vacuum, right? And what does a vacuum do?"

"It sucks?"

"Yes. Exactly. It sucks. That is our problem. We suck. And for once, sucking is not the right way to clean this all up."

Shinzato tilted his head to the side, blinked, and threw another ball. "So what do you suggest?"

"We try a different tactic. Instead of being like a vacuum and sucking, I say we need to make like a broom and SWEEP."

"Oooh, that sounds really neat," Shinzato replied. "I'm not sure I've actually seen us do that before... I haven't been with the team that long... do you think it'll work?"

"Yeah. Look, I'm gonna tell all the guys in the dugout about it. Can you go find Hiro and the pitchers and let them know? New plan. Sweep. Break the vacuum, bend like the broom. We can do it."

"We can do it. Sweep." repeated Shinzato. "Today, we are not going to suck. Right?"

"Right. Sweep's the word. Spread it."

Shinzato ran off to the bullpen, and Satozaki went back to the dugout with the rest of the guys who had taken fielding practice. He explained the idea. There were quizzical looks from guys who hadn't seen a broom since elementary school, and thought sweeping things was more of a punishment than anything, but they agreed to go along with the plan. It sounded better than sucking, at least.

"WHAT TIME IS IT?" he yelled.

"SWEEP TIME!" the guys replied.

"Man, I WISH it was sleeptime," said Benny Agbayani. "I'm already dying from this heat."

The game started, and the Marines ran out to take their places on the field. The first batter, Yuichi Honda, came up to the plate. After taking a few pitches way outside, fouling off a few more, he singled to left. Munenori Kawasaki followed to the plate, and pretty much did the same exact thing. Along with Honda stealing second on the third pitch, Kawasaki singling gave the Hawks a 1-0 lead on the first two batters of the game when Honda scored on the play.

Satozaki got up and went to the mound, putting his glove over his mouth for Super Secret Sweepspeak.

"Hiro, hold on a minute. This is not part of the plan. Today we're sweeping. Not sucking."

"We're what?"

Satozaki rolled his eyes. "Didn't you get the memo?"

Kobayashi blinked. "Shin said something about a vacuum cleaner being broken, but I didn't really understand what he meant."

"Uhhh... let's just say that we can beat these guys if we don't beat ourselves. Okay? So throw a little better and let's see what we can do about keeping these guys off the bases."

"I'll try to keep them off first, but you've got to try to keep them off second."

"Fine. Consider it done." Satozaki put his mask back on and went back to the plate.

Kobayashi got behind on the count to Ohmura, but Satozaki nailed Kawasaki trying to steal. One out. But then Ohmura walked. So Satozaki had to gun him down at second as well, as Kobayashi was in the process of walking Nobuhiko Matsunaka. Two out.

"Hiro! I thought we had a deal!" shouted Satozaki.

"What?"

"I did my part, now you do yours! Stop sucking!"

It was like a film had lifted from Kobayashi's eyes. He focused on the plate. He kept the ball down. He struck out Nobuhiro Matsuda, ending the half inning.

"How about that?" said Kobayashi. "Will that help our cleaning problem?"

"Yeah. Great. Awesome. Keep it up. We'll try to get you some runs here."

Unfortunately the Marines couldn't seem to get much done in their halves of the first or second inning. They'd get the first guy on base, maybe the second, and then botch it up. They did make those Hawks run around a lot in those black uniforms, but for nothing... until Jose Ortiz singled in the third, and then Kazuya Fukuura followed it up with a foul deep into rightfield territory, and then another long ball which went to the back wall for a double! Ortiz ran, and ran, and ran, and scored, tying the game at 1-1!

"Yeah!" shouted Satozaki, waiting in the on-deck circle as Ortiz came in. "That's the way to do it!"

"You too, man," replied Ortiz, completing the high-five.

Satozaki dug in and waited for a pitch. Here he was, cleanup hitter, the once and future captain, and, well, the one who was going to have to do something about this all. A home run seemed like a good idea. So he hit the ball deep to right field. Going... going... going... CAUGHT.

"That didn't work," Jose Ortiz told him as he returned to the dugout.

"I'll get him next time. We're not losing this game."

Back in the field, Ortiz, muttering something about sweepstakes, made what should have been a really awesome play, a backflip to second for a forceout. But instead, it turned into two runners on. Which turned into two more guys scoring, for a 3-1 lead. Which really pissed off Satozaki. But he decided not to let it get to him; he'd take his revenge at the plate next time, for sure.

"Hey Nishioka," he said as the Marines went out to bat in the bottom of the 5th, "Remember the sweep plan? I think this is a good time to start working on it again. Can you like, jinx this Wada guy using your Tsuyoshi Power or something?"

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"What? Why not."

"No, 'cause we don't need no jinxin' for him, we're gonna kick him by just us." Nishioka called back as Toshiaki Imae led off with a double. "Y'see? Gori's got it done."

"Yeah, Sato, chill," said Jose Ortiz. "I'm also going to make up for last inning." He went out and hit a double, and the score was 4-3.

Fukuura walked, so Satozaki came to the plate with bases loaded, no out. This is perfect, he thought, almost anything I do will score a run as long as I make contact. But, if I hit a home run NOW, we will definitely, definitely, DEFINITELY not be sucking. It would be grand. It would be great. It would be, hey that pitch looks hittable--

And off it went. It wasn't a home run. It was going to be caught. Wait, it WASN'T going to be caught. And it was going to bounce off the right fielder. So it was a single! A single! Nishioka scored! Tie game! Tie game! No outs! Yeeeeeah!

Satozaki high-fived first-base coach Kenji Morozumi. "Now THIS is part of the plan."

Morozumi laughed at him. "Is this more of your broom theory?"

"It's not a theory. It's the truth. It's going to happen. I can FEEL it."

Satozaki did not make it back to home plate himself, but the Marines did add two more runs that inning, getting to a lead of 5-3.

Brian Sikorski replaced Kobayashi on the mound for the sixth inning. Satozaki came out to the mound to give him the ball. "Brian, you know about the plan, right? No sucking, all sweeping, everyone's got to bring it."

Sikorski stared into the catcher's mask. "Sato," he said in a deadpan, "I ALWAYS bring it."

Satozaki laughed. "Alright, let's KEEP this lead!"

And so they did. Two strikeouts, a single, and then a big popup behind the plate which Satozaki tore off his mask and ran down like a salaryman about to miss the last train home.

"Awesome run," said Sikorski as they met back by the dugout, punching a high-five.

"It's all part of the plan," Satozaki replied, a gigantic grin on his face.

He didn't notice the quizzical look Sikorski gave him as they went to sit down.

Nor did he give a peptalk to Yusuke Kawasaki. Kawasaki was a lefty coming in to face a lefty-heavy Hawks lineup anyway, where 5 out of the top 6 batters were lefties. He had everything under control. The Marines didn't add anything to their score, but it was still 5-3 going into the middle of the 8th inning. A fantastic Imae play and a strikeout later, there were two outs on the board, and even a single by Hasegawa didn't phase anyone too much.

Michael Restovich was due up to bat next. A big right-handed foreign hitter called for a change to a right-handed pitcher, perhaps, and Yasutomo Kubo rode out the bullpen car and met everyone on the mound.

"Sato!" he said.

"Yeah?"

"Your vacuum's broken, I heard? You've really got to try out one of those Roombas. It's so cool, it just goes around your room sucking up all the dirt for you, you don't even have to push it around or anything--"

"My vacuum's not broken. And the point is that today we are NOT supposed to suck. And we're not sucking. So don't start."

Satozaki walked back towards the plate, trying to think of a good pitch sequence for Restovich. Only he noticed that the guy taking warmup swings in the on-deck circle was not a big American, but instead a lanky Japanese guy with high socks. Yeah, indeed, it was Hiroshi Shibahara.

"That's a really good move by Oh," Satozaki thought to himself, getting into a catching position. "Kubo's been murdered by lefties this year, might as well put another one in since they've got them to spare."

Shibahara took the first pitch, and Satozaki continued his little mental soliloquy. "Infact, I feel like I've been here before. Like a few weeks ago, on another sunny day, when there was a righty-hitting foreigner batting in the 7th position. Wasn't it Lew Ford? Yeah, for Hanshin. That was also a crazy close game where we were only down by a few runs, going into the late innings after a fairly good start by Kobayashi. And then there was that parade of relievers, and then Kubo came out, and then Okada pinch-hit the lefty outfielder Katsuragi for Ford..."

The second pitch, Shibahara reached out a bit but ended up fouling it back. "And wait, that's right, Katsuragi came out with one guy on base, and he absolutely KILLED a pitch into the rightfield stands. I seriously thought that someone had fired a gun."

Satozaki threw the pitch back to the mound. "But that's okay. I mean, this is Hiroshi Freaking Shibahara we're talking about now. And today's the day of the Big Plan. We're going to not suck. We're going to sweep. We're going to... wait a minute." He looked out towards the mound. "I wonder if Kubo knows about the plan? Did Shinzato ACTUALLY tell the bullpen? Or did they just get some message about a vacuum cleaner? Not a broom? Could it be that he is NOT aware that today is NOT the day to suck, and..."

The ball came in to the plate. Shibahara swung.

"Oh crap," Satozaki finished his thought.

A few seconds later the ball landed in the right field stands.

"THIS IS NOT PART OF THE PLAN!" Satozaki yelled angrily, but he was drowned out in the noise of the Hawks fans.

The team regrouped in mid-inning with the game now tied. Saburo tapped Satozaki on the shoulder. "I know this isn't going according to your plan," he said, "but I'm going to do whatever I can this inning to get us back on track. Take no prisoners."

"Go for it. What could possibly go wrong?"

Saburo came back in at the end of the inning, covered in dirt and absolutely fuming. "What can go wrong? What can go RIGHT? Aside from getting tagged out at the plate trying to score from first on a long hit to left... nothing, apparently."

And then as if to add insult to injury, Satozaki got charged with an error when Nishioka threw home to try to cut off a few runs in the top of the 9th. Instead, the Hawks ended up ahead, 7-5.

"This is just getting ridiculous," he said. "I give up. We suck. We can't do anything right around here."

"Wait a minute, Sato," said Imae. "I'm sorry about the last inning, but you know, it's not over until it's over. Let's see what we can do now."

"Yeah," said Jose Ortiz, "We're just two runs down. Two runs is not impossible. We can do this."

Shunichi Nemoto stood up and walked over. "If they'd just put in a right-handed pitcher, I'd totally go kick some Hawk butt for you, Sato. Seriously."

"It's all my fault," said Kubo. "But if you give up now you'll never get a new vacuum cleaner, right?"

"IT'S NOT ABOUT THE VACUUM CLEANER," yelled Satozaki. A bit more quietly, he added, "I just thought we could win today. Didn't Shinzato tell you that?"

Kubo stared at him. "It's not about the vacuum cleaner?"

Shinzato, who was hiding behind the bat case, peeked out. "I think I got the message mistaken," he said. "Can we fix it now?"

"We can," said Nishioka.

"We can," said Fukuura.

"WHAT TIME IS IT? IT'S SWEEP TIME!" shouted Saburo and Hayakawa.

"Sleep time?" said Shoitsu Ohmatsu. "It IS getting awfully dark outside for 4pm, isn't it?"

Tsuyoshi Nishioka came up to the plate and sneered at pitcher Akihiro Yanase.

Yanase threw a ball, high and outside.

Nishioka sneered again. And again. And again. And three pitches later he was standing on first base.

"Nice," said Satozaki. "Was that an in-taunt-ional walk?"

Jose Ortiz came out and sneered at pitcher Akihiro Yanase. And ended up striking out. But Nishioka took off running and stole second on the last strike.

Manager Oh signaled for a pitching change, and CJ Nitkowski rode out of the bullpen in the nice shiny silver car.

"Dammit," said Nemoto. "So much for kicking."

"It's ok," said Fukuura. "I'll do enough kicking for everyone. Just gimme a minute."

And kick he did, hitting a double to right. Nishioka scored! 7-6! Just one run left!

"See, Sato?" Nishioka said, crossing by the on-deck circle. "Ain't no vacuums for us today. Y'know whatcha gotta do."

"Hmm. Yeah. Eyebrows." He motioned towards the bullpen door, where Yuuki Kume was riding out on a car, to replace Nitkowski on the mound.

Satozaki put on his best sneering face, raised his eyebrows, and looked at Kume. Kume threw the ball high and outside. Whoa, thought Satozaki, and sneered again. Sure enough, three pitches later he was on first base. He looked over towards the on-deck circle, and there was Nemoto, standing there with a determined look on his face.

Nemoto looked up at Satozaki and mouthed, Hawk butt. And on the second pitch he hit this beautiful low liner which arced its way into centerfield. Except that for some reason, Takeshi Tsuji was there to make the catch.

"That was not good," Satozaki said to coach Morozumi, as he ran back to first.

"No kidding. Where's your broom now?"

"I think I'm going to have to trade it in for a beer shortly."

Saburo took ball four. "And Benny's buying," Satozaki said as he walked off to second.

Bases loaded, two outs, bottom of the ninth. The fans were bouncing and yelling as loudly as ever, on both sides. Hawks fans were shouting encouragement to Kume; Marines fans were shouting cheers for Benny. Nobuhiko Matsunaka couldn't contain himself and actually stepped out of the dugout to start yelling encouragement to his teammates, since he'd been pinch-run for in the top of the 9th.

Satozaki looked behind him to see how the fielders were positioned. "Hey Mune," he shouted towards Kawasaki, "Bet you a beer we win this one. You old enough to drink yet?"

But his words fell on deaf ears, as Benny hit the ball up in the air towards left field and everyone ran out there, Kenta Nakanishi making the catch. The Hawks paraded to the mound and high-fived each other.

Ken Shinzato was waiting back on the bench when the players came through the dugout. "I'm really sorry I messed up the message to the bullpen, Sato," he said. "I'll buy you a beer or something to make up for it?"

"Nah, Shin," he said, "I think I'm going to just go home and sit under an airconditioner for a while to let off the steam from this crazy game."

"Wow, that blows," replied Shinzato.

"Exactly."

[The scene: Sapporo Dome, Saturday Oct 27th, afternoon. Chunichi Dragons players are taking batting/fielding practice. Masahiko Morino walks up to Hiromitsu Ochiai by the third-base bag.]

Morino: Uh, hey, Ochiai-kantoku, I was wondering...
Ochiai: Hmmm?
Morino: You know, this Japan Series thing. We're gonna win this time, right?
Ochiai: I really like tofu.
Morino: I'm serious. The Dragons haven't won a series since you were born.
Ochiai: I fail to see your point.
Morino: You're old.


(I took this on October 7th in Yokohama. It begged a caption.)

Ochiai: I'm just going to throw Ogasawara into the lions' den and everything will work out okay.
Morino: Actually, boss, it was the Giants' den...
Ochiai: They'll be expecting Kenshin and boy will they be surprised!
Morino: ...and you did it last week.
Ochiai: It'll nullify all of their big lefty bats.
Morino: This is the Fighters we're playing this week. They don't have any big lefty bats. I'm not actually sure they HAVE any bats.
Ochiai: That could be a problem. What about righty bats?
Morino: No, I mean, I don't think they own bats. I think they go out there and hit the ball with sausages. Isn't that why they're called Nippon Ham?
Ochiai: I'm not worried. I'll just play Kenshin. They'll be expecting Ogasawara and boy will they be surprised!
Morino: Uh-huh.

[They look around the stadium for a minute. Kawakami's doing long tosses with Tanishige over by the foul line.]

Morino: Kenshin vs. Darvish for the first game of the Japan Series? I feel like I've seen this somewhere before.
Ochiai: If there's another rerun on Japan Series tonight, maybe we can all go get some crab cakes instead of watching it? Find a good izakaya?
Morino: No, I think this one is a new episode, actually.
Ochiai: Apparently Masa's already down in Susukino drinking his sorrows away.
Morino: Anyway, I had this great idea for what we should do in the game tonight.
Ochiai: And there's this one sushi restaurant with the most astoundingly tasty sashimi, you'd have to taste it to believe it.
Morino: You know how we always have these patented "big first innings?" Where we score a whole bunch of runs in the first inning and the other team can never catch up?
Ochiai: The northern parts of Japan can be really boring, but damn the food is good.
Morino: I think we need to do that. Explode on the Fighters in the first inning and then just rely on Kenshin to keep it scoreless the rest of the time. It's worked for us many times this season.
Ochiai: Hmm... exploding ham...
Morino: Are you listening to me?
Ochiai: Big first inning and then a scoreless game? Yeah, I like that idea.
Morino: I'll hit a 3-run homer if you can just get Arakibata on base.
Ochiai: And then we can go drinking?
Morino: Sure thing, boss.

[The game starts.]

Morino: Hmm, Araki struck out.
Morino: Hmm, Ibata grounded out.
Morino: I can't hit a 3-run home run. Curses! [strikes out]
Ochiai: This plan of yours is not working so well.

Hillman: Okay, so I got ahold of Chunichi's secret plan to win the game! Seggy, can I talk to you a second?
Seguignol: Ok. How'd you get it?
Hillman: Some sushi chef gave it to me. Said it was foolproof.
Hichori: [walks]
Kensuke: [bunts]
Inaba: [walks]
Hillman: Heh, heh, heh. Now that Hichorinaba is on base...
Morino: HEY THAT'S MY PLAN! WHAT THE
Seguignol: Here I go! Watch this!
Darvish: I'm watching, I'm watching.
Ball: Wheeeeeee! I didn't like being inside the park anyway. [lands in stands]
Fighters fans: Woohoo! 3-0!
Ochiai: This plan worked really well!
Ochiai: Wait a minute, my team isn't at bat.
Morino: Ummm...
Ochiai: Exploding ham?
Morino: No, bananas.

Kawakami: If I can retire every other batter for the rest of the night, can you guys scrape up a few runs to help me out here?
Dragons: No.
Araki: Maybe.
Morino: We got one. Is that good enough?
Kawakami: [facepalm]

Darvish: Strikeout! Strikeout! Strikeout!
Tatsunami: Uh, could you please stop doing that?
Darvish: No. Strikeout! Strikeout!
Woods: Dammit!
Darvish: Strikeout! Strikeout!
Norihiro: Arrrrgh!!
Darvish: Strikeout! Strikeout!
Morino: I'm beginning to feel like I'm in one of those bug spray commercials, and we're the bugs.
Kawakami: May I remind you that my batting average in the postseason is better than yours?
Morino: May I remind you that I have a bat today and you don't?
Kawakami: Dude, we even put Arakibata on base for you in the 6th and all you could do was deliver a sac fly. I don't want to hear it.
Ochiai: Delivery? Maybe I can get some pizza.
Morino: I tried, didn't you see? If it'd had a little less top spin that would have been a 3-run homer.
Ochiai: Toppings? How about exploding ham?
Morino: You keep saying that phrase. I do not think it means what you think it means.

[Kawakami and Darvish continue to face off against each other until the bitter end. The ninth inning starts and Darvish is still on the mound!]

Morino: Argh! [grounds out]
Woods: Crap! [strikes out]
Tatsunami: Finally. [walks]
Hillman: Uhoh. [goes to mound]
Norihiro: A chance? Maybe?
Darvish: No. [strikes him out]
Norihiro: I really don't like that kid.

[The Fighters win the first game of the Series, 3-1!]

Deanna: Hey, I actually inhaled the data section of Shube last night.
Deanna: Did you know that Darvish's 13 strikeouts tied a Japan Series record?
Deanna: It was set by Kimiyasu Kudoh in 1999. Ironically, it was also the first game of the Japan Series, and he beat the Chunichi Dragons 3-0 in doing so.
Deanna: There was also a Hiroshima Carp pitcher named Yoshiro Sotokoba who won the Sawamura Award in 1975, who struck out 13 in the 4th game of the 1975 Japan Series. But, it was a 13-inning tie game. He only struck out 10 in the first 9 innings.
Fans: Uh, Deanna? We really don't care. Darvish is cool. Huh huh.
Deanna: Err... right. Exploding ham?
Ochiai: Exploding ham!
Morino: This must be why she calls me Dragonbutt.

Sunday, July 8th. Mariners 7, Athletics 3. Continued from part 1... kind of.

"It's really nice of you to take over running the campaign from Grover, Mac," Willie was saying as he grabbed the bag of chips. "He never let my character come along for any of the good adventure hooks."

"That's because Bloomquist of Bremerton isn't actually USEFUL for any of the good adventure hooks," muttered Richie.

"Anyway, where were we?" asked Jason. "I think I was, you know, kicking ass and taking names?"

"Sadly, Friar Feierabend fell to -10 hit points a few rounds ago," replied McLaren. "So he's out of the campaign for a few days until you find someone who can cast Raise Dead. Let's see... right, you guys are still fighting the evil demon Cupcakes, Destroyer of Worlds."

Willie giggled. "I'm so glad we've levelled up to the point that this thing isn't hard to beat anymore. Remember those sessions last year when he totally owned our party?"

Jose nodded. "Lopez Lightbringer has such a big bonus to his sneak attack damage now that he just waits for the right moment to strike big rather than trying to chip away."

"Yeah, that was a nice shot you got off against him earlier, dude," said Jason. "Was that for full damage?"

"I think so. He's probably getting low by now, a couple nice cuts should finish him off."

Jason picked up the dice and rolled. "I know I've been rolling really well today," he said, looking at the result. "Good thing I've got that +2 Mace of Demon-Slaying! I just barely hit again."

Ichiro nodded. "My wizard casts Scorching Ray and sends one out to the right."

Jose took a d20 out of his bag. "I'm going to try to sneak attack again, okay?" he said. "Hmm... I succeeded on the hit, but I rolled really horrible for damage. How's the Cupcakes Demon looking? Not dead yet? Still hurling white spheres at us?"

McLaren looked at the notes behind the screen, and grimaced. "I can't say anything," he replied, "but you have definitely pissed it off."

Raul pondered this for a minute. "Okay," he agreed, "I'm going to try a Power Attack for 3 points. That should take it out."

"Roll it."

The die landed on the table. "YES!!!!" shouted the whole party. "Nice hit, Raul!"

MacLaren rolled some dice behind his screen and scribbled a few things down. "I have good news and bad news for you guys. The good news is, you've disarmed the Cupcakes Demon's supernatural powers..."

"...the bad news is?"

"The bad news is that it's charged down in a blind rage and is attempting to engage the party in unarmed combat. He shoves Ichiro's wizard for," he paused to roll, "2 points of damage."

Jason stood up and banged his fists down on the table. "No way," he said. "No. Way. Ellison Elvenmoon does NOT take that sort of shit from anyone, even overweight puddles of green and gold goo. I shove it back."

"Nice, dude!" said Richie. "I totally back you up here!"

"Cupcakes is summoning help," said McLaren, "and a whole horde of green and gold goblins appear and come to his aid." He rolled some dice. "He also shoves back Ellison but does no significant damage."

"Bah. I'm not afraid of him. I shove his ass."

"Uh, okay, you get a bonus to hit for the size modifier when a Small creature attacks a Large creature, but you take a penalty for the unarmed attack..."

"I attack a goblin too!"

"Yeah, me too!"

"I've got improved unarmed strike! Let me smack it!"

"What do you mean I'm small?"

"When's it my turn to hit? Sexson Stormblade wants to mash!"

"Guys, guys," said McLaren, "Settle down. I can't run this game if you're all jumping all over the place at once."

"But I swung my fists at the--"

"I wanted to attack a--"

"AAAACK SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP." McLaren stood up. "An Umpire Spawn materializes and casts Mass Domination on the entire melee. He points a Finger of Death at Cupcakes, who immediately falls over, and is carried off the battlefield by the green and gold goblins. Meanwhile, you all need to make a will save or also immediately start walking off the battlefield."

"What? That's so unfair."

"Will save. Now. Also, the Umpire is starting to point at Ichiro's wizard."

"Uh, crap, we can't have Ichiro die," said Richie, as the whole group failed to make their saving throws. "Can't you do something about that?"

"Well, okay, I guess it'd be really bad for the campaign storyline for that to happen. How about Batista the Brainy? He's pretty useless."

"WHAT?" said Miguel.

"Yeah, sounds good!" replied Willie.

"Okay, so Miguel dies, and the party is victorious. I'll total up your XP and give you numbers next time we play. How's Thursday for you guys? Can everyone make it?"

"Yeah, I think so," said Richie. "It's back at your house, right? Who's bringing the chips and salsa?"

"I'm pretty sure it's Felix's turn," said Jose.

"Someone tell him to bring some mild stuff to go with the hot chipotle, okay?"

Twins at Mariners. Mariners 2, Twins 11.

KENJI JOHJIMA
Okay, let's play the game! We start with last week's loser... Mr. Jeff Weaver. Are you ready, Weaver?

JEFF WEAVER
I sure am, Kenji!

KENJI JOHJIMA
Okay, then you get over there on the mound and pitch to the Wheel of Twins! Go ahead, give it a spin!

[audience boos as the Twins lineup keeps going around and around and around, hitting singles and bunting and running wild around the bases. The action pauses with Justin Morneau at the plate and runners on second and third.]

KENJI JOHJIMA
A big lefty-hitting Canadian slugger! Very tasty! Okay, Weaver, now listen carefully...

You can either face your Canadian slugger, or you can go for what's taking practice swings in the on-deck circle right now! What's it gonna be?

[Weaver stands there thinking for a minute. Morneau takes a few practice swings outside the batter's box. Torii Hunter takes a few practice swings from the on-deck circle. The audience yells out lots of random things, like "Walk the Canadian!" and "Weaver, you SUCK!" Weaver looks back and forth between the plate and the on-deck circle.]

JEFF WEAVER
I... I'll take the circle!

KENJI JOHJIMA
Okay, Weaver, you took the circle! Let's see what's in the circle...

[Weaver intentionally walks Morneau, loading the bases. Torii Hunter comes to the plate, and after getting a few strikes on the outside corners, Weaver leaves a pitch hanging over the plate, which Hunter CRUSHES and sends into the Twins bullpen in left field.]

KENJI JOHJIMA
...IT'S A GRAND SALAMI!!! STUPID!!!! YOU SO STUPID!!!!!!


(In case the parody isn't obvious immediately, see here.)

I have pictures and game notes and all kinds of stuff from going to Safeco Field tonight, but I had a silly idea on the bus ride home for a new kind of "fantasy baseball", so I'm writing that now. Serious report will come later/tomorrow.

Athletics at Mariners. Mariners 8, Athletics 4.

"Hey guys, sorry I'm late," said Willie as he sat down at the end of the table.

"Did you at least remember to bring the chips and Dew?" Richie said.

Willie's face fell. "Crap," he replied. "I knew there was something I forgot... at least I remembered my character sheet."

Grover nodded. "No big deal, dude, it just means we're not going to include you in today's adventure."

Willie groaned. "What? BUT I TOTALLY NEED THE XP TO LEVEL UP MY ROGUE! You PROMISED!"

Yuniesky waved. "Sorry, I've got better skill checks than you do anyway, so I'm playing instead."

Jarrod laughed. "That's okay, Felix is sitting today's session out too, he's out of spells after blowing up a Harenculus with a couple fireballs."

Grover gathered up his notes behind the GM shield and started reading. "Okay... so, you are all journeying across a grassy field at the bottom of a valley. You can hear a low roar surrounding you, and in the distance you see several green and gold humanoid figures lurking in the shadows, wielding wooden clubs. Roll initiative."

Jarrod smiled. "Awesome, I go first. Washburn The Wise casts Bless on several spheres and hurls them at the enemies."

"Roll to hit."

He rolled a 2. "Crap! Goddamnit these dice suck, where the hell did they come from?"

"I think Gil forgot to take them when he left the campaign," said Willie.

"Well, uh, that's not helping, Ichiro, can your wizard do something?"

"What's going on? An aerial attack against us?" Ichiro looked through his character sheet. "I cast Shield."

Grover applauded. "You prevent the volley of flyballs from hitting the party. Good thinking."

Ichiro grinned. "Then I also cast Magic Missile and return their fire back upon their plate!"

Richie whined. "Is it my turn to attack yet? Sexson Stormblade wants to MASH!"

Grover said, "Yeah, but a more formidable foe has entered the fray."

"Oh?"

"It's a large beastly creature, swathed in dark green and gold robes, with a massive torso and fierce eyes glinting out from above a goatee."

"OH MY GOD," said Jose. "Guillen the Barbarian has seen this abomination before. Can it be..."

"No way," replied Yuniesky. "There's no way anyone would make a party fight one of these in only their second session."

Grover cackled. "Oh ho, that's what YOU think. The beast approaching your group is none other than the evil demon CUPCAKES, DESTROYER OF WORLDS!"

"ARGGHHH." Willie grimaced. "This is the monster that totally wiped out our last party. We couldn't dispel the curse it put on us."

Jose nodded. "I've seen this thing completely devour characters in three rounds! They barely even have a chance to react! It's inhuman!"

"I don't know what you're all afraid of," said Richie. "Now that I levelled up in the offseason I can use my new warrior skill to defeat it."

"Your what?"

"It's called Funk Blast. I basically take a penalty to my to-hit roll and automatically do full damage if I actually get a hit when I swing."

"Whoa. Awesome."

"Sweeeeet! Let's try it."

"We NEED the funk!"

Grover looked over his notes. "Sure, go ahead. Just make sure you don't roll a 1 or you'll break your club."

Richie took a deep breath and threw the d20 on the table. The icosahedron rolled around as everyone watched, and it finally landed on a 17. "YESSSSS," Richie pumped his fist. "Wait, what do I need to roll to get a hit off this guy anyway?"

"Uh, that'll hit," said Grover. "You've really wounded it. But in the meantime, the rest of its henchmen are still attacking Jarrod's cleric over there."

"Oh shit," said Jarrod, "I guess I go into a full defensive stance until the rest of the party can bail me out."

"Sure, I think we can hold off the henchmen for a while," said Jose thoughtfully. "What's your status like?"

Grover rolled a few dice. "Actually, Washburn the Wise just got bashed in the head by Milton of Bradley and fell over unconscious. Let me get you a replacement character." He shuffled around some papers. "Here's Julio the Horrible, try playing him for a bit."

After several rounds of battling against the Cupcakes demon and scoring some lucky hits, the party finally managed to tire it out, and it retreated, leaving a Kikobold slave behind to cover its exit.

"Wow, you guys are doing really impressive today," said Willie. "I just WISH MY CHARACTER WAS THERE TOO."

"Well, you're not, so shut up," said Richie.

"Hmmm, these should be a lot easier to finish off," said Jose. "I'll go around to the side so you get a +2 flanking bonus, okay, Yuni?"

"Gotcha," Yuniesky replied. "Can I sneak attack it too, then?"

"If you're flanking, yeah," said Grover. "Roll it."

Yuni threw the die.

"A NATURAL 20!!!" the entire party exclaimed.

"Dang," Grover said. "With the critical damage and your sneak attack damage, that adds up to... oh, screw it, I don't feel like doing the math. Fine, you've defeated the Gelatinous A's. Good job."

"Do we level?" said Jarrod.

"No, not yet," replied Grover. "This adventure arc isn't over. Next session I'm going to have you all infiltrate the castle of King Richard the Brokenharden."

Jim Tracy: Ahoy, mateys, ye might be wonderin' why I've called me fine crew together today!

Jack Wilson: Dude, we just swept the Mets.

Zach Duke: I rule, don't I?

Chris Duffy: I rule too! [high-fives]

Xavier Nady: WHY GOD, OH GOD, WHYYYYY? [breaks down in tears]

Jim Tracy: Avast, ye're all missin' th' point, men. Hear ye, we be about t'begin a three-battle melee with them scurvy dogs of th'western coast.

Ryan Doumit: No problem, chief, we can take them.

Ian Snell: Yeah, it's no big deal. I'll shut 'em down for the first couple of innings tonight and then Torres over there'll slam the door on them. Easy cheesy.

Jim Tracy: Yarrrr, but they be wily curs, full of deceit an' ready t'launch a grapeshot attack 'tany moment. Beware ye their late-inning blasts! 'Twere just Sunday they launched four back-t'back volleys over th'fence. Ye kinnae sink 'em that easy, lads!

Jason Bay: He's got a point. I've got no problem hitting four home runs myself, but I think some of the rest of you are going to have to step up for this thing to work.

Freddy Sanchez: Jay, you know we're not capable of hitting like you are. How about we just try to string together four back-to-back singles a couple of times? A wise man once pointed out that four singles in an inning equals a run.

Chris Duffy: Yo, I am the KING of singles.

Freddy Sanchez: Word.

Jason Bay: Uh, that works. You guys go man the bases and hoist the bats or whatever and I'll go drive in some runs.

Chris Duffy: I can't believe you just said "hoist the bats".

Rene Rivera, Mike Morse, Greg Dobbs, and Adam Jones were all sitting on the couch in the clubhouse.

"Goddamn, TV is boring these days," said Jones.

"Seriously," said Morse. "Everything's a freaking rerun."

Dobbs grabbed the remote control and turned on the TV. "Yeah," he said, "This is ALL a bunch of reruns. I don't even know what's good on TV anymore."

Rene Rivera piped up. "I hear 'Friends' is good!"

Dobbs snorted. "Rerun. Any other ideas?"

Morse thought. "Bloomquist likes Grey's Anatomy, so let's not watch that."

Adam Jones flipped through the channels. "Hey," he said, "It's an episode of Happy A's."

Dobbs blinked. "I've seen this one before too, dude. Washburn vs. Zito? That's TOTALLY a rerun. It was on, like, last weekend."

Rene Rivera tilted his head to the side. "Is this the show with Fonzie?"

"No, but it's got Kielty and Bradley and Swishie and Chavvy, does that count?"

Morse gaped as Ben Broussard hit a home run, giving the Mariners a 2-0 lead. "Wait a minute," he said, "That didn't happen last time. Are you SURE this is a rerun?"

Dobbs nodded. "I think so... I swear, I've been watching this show all season. It's true the plots start looking alike after a while, and there's only so many ways you can find for the Mariners to lose to the A's, right?"

"Yeah, they seriously need new writers," Jones agreed. "Maybe today something idiotic can happen like Bloomtard getting a home run, I bet that'd raise the ratings in Bremerton..."

The four sat there on the bench, watching the plot unfold. The A's scored a run in their half of the inning, and then Mark Ellis hit a home run in the bottom of the 4th.

"Oh my god, this is totally not a rerun," said Morse. "I've never seen Mark Ellis hit a home run before. Or anyone from South Dakota, for that matter."

Dobbs raised his eyebrows. "I don't know. I mean, it still feels really familiar, doesn't it? False hope, and then a bunch of guys getting cut down by Zito curveballs, right?"

The next inning started and Willie Bloomquist hit a home run.

Everyone looked at Adam Jones.

"What?" he asked.

"I thought you said you hadn't seen this one before?" blinked Rivera.

"I haven't! Have ANY of us been following this show long enough to have seen Willie Bloomquist hit a home run? I know it hasn't happened since I've been watching."

Dobbs got quiet for a second. "Actually," he said, "This is proof that it IS a rerun. Because, like, Willie's LAST home run was ALSO off Barry Zito in Oakland. I remember that episode. I was TOTALLY there. I even pinch-hit for him after that."

Jones tilted his head. "Oh yeah? What did you do?"

Dobbs blushed. "I struck out."

Morse shrugged as the score went to 4-2, but then Frank Thomas hit a home run and it went to 4-3. Zito and Washburn both came out of the game, with Washburn holding the win, and it seemed impossible: Seattle vs. Oakland in a battle of the bullpens? This couldn't possibly be a rerun. The bullpens hadn't had a lead to protect yet this season.

The game went on, and the Mariners' lead held. Mark Lowe pitched a beautiful sixth and seventh innings, as did Chad Gaudin.

Morse said to Dobbs, "If this is a rerun, what's going to happen next?"

Dobbs gulped. "Grover's going to mismanage the bullpen. Just wait."

Sure enough, lefty George Sherrill pitched to lefty Eric Chavez, who singled. Then righty Rafael Soriano came in to pitch to Jay Payton, who was obviously a huge power threat. Nick Swisher came up to bat, from his favored left side of the plate.

BOOM! Soriano got a 3-1 count on Swisher, and then he swung away, belting a shot just over the wall in right-center.

All four guys on the couch were silent as Swisher ran back into the dugout and did a series of high-fives and crazy frat handshakes with every person in sight.

Dobbs said, "I'm not going to say I told you so, but I told you so."

Rivera looked confused. "Then didn't you just say you told us so?"

Dobbs shook his head with an exasperated motion. "Great, I've got to go bat against the only guy in the league whose name I can't spell. See you all later." He walked out.

"Well, then," Jones said. "Let's all make bets on how we think the game will end? I'm going with Bloomquist caught stealing."

Morse grimaced. "Dobbs tagged out at home for the third out."

Rivera almost laughed. "I say Jose Lopez pops out to Kotsay at the wall."

They watched as Dobbs grounded out, and Bloomquist flew out into a beautiful diving catch by Mark Kotsay. Then Ichiro came up to bat and did his thing, fouling off a bunch of pitches until he got one he liked and could bloop into shallow left for a single.

Rivera said, "See? You see? I win! I bet Lopez will--"

Ichiro took a step towards second, Duchscherer fired the ball to first, and Swisher got the pickoff tag. Game over. The three just stared at the TV screen with their mouths open in shock.

Dobbs came back into the clubhouse. "God, that sucked. Since when does Ichiro get picked off bases? Freaking hell."

Morse glared at him. "See? I TOLD you it wasn't a goddamn rerun, dumbass."

Deanna's take on various trades, which have absolutely no bearing on reality or the standings, but just random thoughts, going from this list:

Mariners
Managed to acquire both parts of the Broussard/Perez platoon. Got rid of Carl Everett. This is sort of like being on Sesame Street and kicking out Oscar the Grouch and replacing him with that two-headed monster that would sound out parts of compound words slowly until they came together. "Pen... ant. Pen? ...Ant! Pen...ant. Pen-ant. PENNANT!"

Rangers
In a classic case of "Needs arm, gets bat", the Rangers' major additions were Carlos Lee and Matt Stairs... and Kip Wells. Thus, all I can say is that they are DOOOOMED. I mean, what were they thinking -- they pick up the DH from the worst team in the AL and the #5 starter from the worst team in the NL? I know Carlos Lee kicks ass and all, but it's sort of like buying an extremely expensive designer dress and then trying to accessorize it at Goodwill. This generally doesn't work; and I'm pretty sure most GMs can't pull it off, with the exception of Billy Beane, and when's the last time you saw any of the A's in high heels? (Besides rookie hazing day, of course.)

Tigers
You know, the people I feel worst for are the tons of people in Pittsburgh who bought Sean Casey jerseys and t-shirts, for the whopping 60 games he played in there. Of course, when I was back for Thanksgiving last off-season, they were still trying to pawn off Matt Lawton shirts for $10, and even had a bunch of Brian Giles crap left as well. I think a store attendant told me that they don't like printing player number shirts anymore, because of how lousy they sell and how often the turnover is around there. At any rate, the person I feel second-worst for is Chris Shelton, who's been optioned down to the minors, because I always thought he looked like a perfect throwback player -- as if you'd taken a picture of the Detroit Tigers playing circa 1906, ripped out their first baseman, and plunked him down on the field in 2006, and gave him a more modern hat.

White Sox
Uhh, they DFA'ed Chris Widger and traded for Sandy Alomar. This is sort of like replacing Dan Wilson with Pat Borders. Wait a minute, I think I've heard of someone doing that before.

Twins
Back in May, with Francisco Liriano breathing down his neck, one wondered whether Kyle Lohse had somehow become the world's best sleeper HACKING MASS pick in history (as only one person had picked him -- and in Gardy's words, "It's about a 9.00 ERA and not getting people out"), when they finally sent him down to call up John Wilkes Boof -- err, I mean, Boof Bonser. At any rate, Kyle's been sent out of Minnesota more than once now; hopefully he'll have more luck in the NL than he did in the AL, except for the fact that Cincinnati's a hitter's park, so it may be a wash. In other news, Torii Hunter came back off the DL, which is sort of like the traditional late-season trade of Advil for Griffey.

Indians
I went to the gym tonight, and was lifting weights and watching Baseball Tonight. They showed the end of tonight's Indians-RedSox game, where David Ortiz launched a 3-run homer in the ninth off of Fausto Carmona. I started laughing, and someone asked me what was so funny. "Looks like Cleveland *still* has a closer problem," I remarked.

On the other hand, BIG LEAGUE CHOOOOOOOOOOOOO! And at least Hector Luna has a lot less sleazy headshot than Ronnie Belliard. In general, I sort of see the Indians' trades as basically replacing spare parts with younger spare parts.

Royals
I'm kind of pissed off because Jeremy Affeldt was going to be the Royals' representative on the All-Cute team this year. Now I'm probably going to have to go with Grudzilla or something.

Yankees
You know, normally I'd be really psyched about getting to see two of my favorite players -- Bobby Abreu and Craig Wilson -- coming to Safeco to play in a few weeks. Unfortunately, since they're showing up in Yankee pinstripes, I'm sort of torn about whether I can cheer for them. And, of course, the Yankees will undoubtedly make Craig Wilson cut his hair. I suppose he can join Randy Johnson and Sal Fasano in the Former Mulletmen of the Apocalypse. It's still sad. I've already ranted enough about the Curse of the Bobbino on here, though.

Blue Jays
I hear that some corner infielder went inSHEAne and got himself traded to the Giants, but in reality, who cares? Alex Rios is back from the DL and will be further plaguing all of my friends' HACKING MASS teams, and it's about time.

Orioles
You know, if Miguel Tejada HAD actually been traded, would they have scratched him from the lineup and broken his consecutive game streak? And would it have eliminated at least 20 minutes of material out of each Orioles broadcast as the announcers would have to come up with some other way to work Ripken into their conversation?

Devil Rays
They traded Lugo, but if I was a Rays fan, I'd be more worried about what's up with Kazmir. Hell, I'm not a Rays fan, but I had to miss Kazmir last time he was in town due to it being a 1:35pm game, and I was psyched to see him pitch next Tuesday until this hit. Sigh.

Padres
"The Padres are still looking for someone to play third base on a regular basis." I think that several of us feel that they have a perfectly good option, but we're biased. Anyway, uh, Todd Walker? Huh?

Dodgers
They did a whole bunch of trades, each of which deserves some speculation, with parts coming in from all over the place. The irony being, if you told me that Wilson Betemit was going to South California to play third base, I would have figured he was going to the Padres, not the Dodgers. Still. The big one here is that they got Greg Maddux, and the really sad part is, it's been so long since I've actually watched Maddux pitch that I'm not really sure what to say. Even if he's getting kind of old, he's still one of the greatest pitchers of this generation. And just like Jamie Moyer, he now gets to suffer the indignity of being on a pitching staff with guys who were born after he signed his first professional baseball contract.

Reds
They added Rheal Cormier to join Eddie Guardado in the "Old Lefty Club". I'll always have a soft spot for Cormier circa 2003, just like I have a soft spot for Shigetoshi Hasegawa circa 2003, but... this is probably the only Phillies-related trade that I don't hate. I'm sure there's a good "Red Pen" joke in here somewhere, but I'm getting too tired to ink it.

Brewers
Once upon a time, before he was a favorite target of the Boo Crew in Philly, David Bell was the third baseman on the Mariners when they won a bazillion games. The next year, he was traded to the Giants, where he put up a .760 OPS and the team went all the way to the World Series. The Mariners traded for Jeff Cirillo, who immediately suffered Safeco Syndrome and posted a .629 OPS, and the team started its slow spiral to where it is now, still in its search for a non-cursed third baseman. Somehow, David Bell and Jeff Cirillo are now both playing for the Brew Crew. Life is weird.

Pirates
You knew that laundry cart that Oliver Perez kicked last year was going to get its revenge eventually, and here it is. But the really funny thing here is that Roberto Hernandez went from being the oldest guy on the Pirates roster by a good 5 years to playing on the same team as Julio Franco, who's a good 5-plus years older than him. Anyway, aside from the fact that it's going to kill me to see Craig Wilson in pinstripes, the Pirates moves were actually pretty reasonable. Xavier Nady should step into the Craig Wilson role, only with more playing time; they'll need a first baseman with Casey and Wilson both gone. He'll most likely also have some starts in the outfield, especially assuming Chris Duffy continues to be a headcase. And dealing Oliver Perez could come back to bite them in the future, especially if he eventually turns into that ace everyone expects him to be someday, but for now, the Pirates are awash in young lefty starters, and Perez wasn't having much success there. Either way, as always, on the surface I don't see a problem with the moves. Down the line, who knows what may happen. Overall, the lesson to be learned is, as mentioned before: Don't ever buy a number t-shirt or jersey of a Pirates player, unless his name is Jason and his number ends in 8. (I have two Pirates player number shirts -- Kendall #18 and Bay #38.)

Mets
HA HA HA. NO ZITO FOR YOU. NEXT!

Phillies
I've already ranted about them enough. Call me when C.J.Henry turns into Kevin Stocker.

Sleep
A good idea. Why the hell am I still awake looking through the crazy trade lists?

Today was the last softball game of the inaugural season for the House of Slack softball team. In proper style, we managed to lose this one spectacularly as well, though at least we showed some flashes of brilliance, and even had one or two 1-2-3 innings (on defense, not on offense). Because our stellar record was a hefty zero wins against a mere six losses, we did not progress to the playoffs. My goal in the offseason is to strengthen up my arm so I can throw harder than Johnny Damon.

I wore a Phillies cap to softball today. Hilarity ensued... kind of.

The Curse of The Bobbino
A short play in two acts

Act One, Scene One

Deanna approaches the plate for her first at-bat of the day.

Catcher: Oh, are you from Philly?
Deanna: Yeah. Are you?
Catcher: Yeah... I'm from Chester.
Deanna: Oh cool! I grew up in Northeast Philly.
Catcher: Ha, we're about the same then, huh?

Deanna hits the ball, but pops out to short.

Act One, Scene Two

Deanna approaches the plate for her second at-bat.

Deanna: So, are you a Phillies fan too?
Catcher: Yeah. Except that they always suck and always get rid of anyone who's good.
Deanna: Today is NOT the day to get me started on that.

Deanna watches four balls go by, and walks.

Act One, Scene Three

Deanna gets to second on the next play. The opposing shortstop is wearing a Mets hat.

Shortstop: Hahahaha, Phillies fan?
Deanna: Yeah, yeah.
Shortstop: I can't believe that Abreu trade. What a bunch of schmucks.
Deanna: And to the Yankees no less.
Shortstop: Uggggghhh.

Act One, Scene Four

Opposing shortstop is on second base, and Deanna's playing second, as there's a brief time-out.

Deanna: So, the Mets, eh? Do you think they'll really trade Milledge for Zito or whatever?
Shortstop: God, that'd be awesome, wouldn't it? I mean, they really just need another great starter to push them to the pennant...
Deanna: Yeah, it's not like they don't already have Pedro and Glavine and...
Shortstop: ...or like they didn't just lose a tough lefty opponent in their division...
Deanna: Ha ha. You're very funny.

Ball is hit, shortstop runs off.

Act Two, Scene One

Deanna is now playing in her second game of the day, subbing in on the Grand Salami team.

Jon Wells: You're up to bat next, Deanna.
Deanna: Okay... [gets bat, starts walking off]
Jon: Go up there and do a Bobby Abreu impression!
Deanna: I guess, I'm a lefty...
Jon: Be like Tomas Perez!
Deanna: WHAT?
Jon: He's with Tampa Bay now and just hit four doubles in a game against the Yankees!
Deanna: Uhh, okay...
Jon: Be like Kevin Stocker!
Deanna: He's not even left-handed!

Deanna hits a hard grounder towards third, hustles it out, but is thrown out at first.

Deanna: Well, that WAS a pretty good Kevin Stocker imitation, you have to admit.

Act Two, Scene Two

Jon Wells has just gotten himself ejected from the game for arguing a call, and the Grand Salami team has to forfeit the game.

GS Teammate: Uhhh, I didn't even know you could GET ejected from a softball game.
Deanna: This is all my fault. This hat is cursed. Goddamn Pat Gillick.

Deanna takes off the Phillies hat. It immediately starts raining.

THE END


The sad part is, that's pretty much exactly how things went today. I did get about ninety comments of "Phillies, huh? How about that Abreu trade?" from various people. I saw Jon Wells (the editor of the Grand Salami Mariners magazine, who had a team in the same softball league) and complimented him on his stirrups, and he asked if I could sub in for them for their game since one of their female players wasn't able to make it. So after my team's game was done, I ended up subbing in for a second game. I did enjoy playing with the Grand Salami team; they were definitely the nicest people of any of the teams I've subbed with, and very good players in general. Also, I got to try being catcher, which was fun after playing second base for the rest of the season.

I'm really not making up that part about Jon getting ejected from the game, either. It was a weird play, where he was running to home plate, and their catcher was blocking the plate, but the throw home was pretty much right there, and Jon went barrelling into the catcher, knocking her over and knocking the ball away. He was called out; a big argument ensued, and BOOM, the umpire ejected him and called the game a forfeit. Craziness.

Anyway, in the evening, I got to see Derek, Jason, and Jeff from USSM on the "Q It Up Sports" show on Q13, which was a real treat. PositivePaul posted videos of it in the comments on the show-watching thread, if you didn't catch it. Derek and Jeff even wore ties, and looked very spiffy. No, Derek wore a suit, he didn't wear a Doyle jersey with a tie. Jeff stole the show as usual, and Jason had to be prodded to talk. It was just like a pizza feed!

Red Sox 9, Mariners 4.

Jamie Moyer:
It's hot out at Safeco
Who knows where the plays go
I'd like to see some zeroes in their box.
I know I'm feeling rotten
My arm is made of cotton
I'm sweaty, I'm ready, so bring on the Sox.

Kyle Snyder:
How did I get here? It feels like a dream
From lousy Kansas City to this super-awesome team
I won't let them know
That I can't really throw.
It seems that I've got
to give it my best shot.

David Ortiz: Hey mon, I'm playing first!
Manny Ramirez: Ain't that where you the worst?
Gabe Kapler: I'm out in left field being Manny's feet...
Trot Nixon: At least I get to play.
Coco Crisp: You say that EVERY day.
Mark Loretta: Calm down, you guys, and revel in this heat--

Youkilis, Ortiz, Manny, Varitek: We'd like to hit the long ball!

Alex Gonzalez: That'd be sweet!

Red Sox (Chorus):
The long ball,
We hit 'em for Francona!
The long ball,
From here to Barcelona.
There's no corner of the outfield stands,
No spot in either 'pen
We'll hit the ball way out there
And we'll hit it out again!
Some people criticize us
And they say that we depend
On the glory of the home run
As our one offensive friend.
It's not that we're all slugging,
It's just that when it's hot
We'd rather circle bases on a trot.

Nixon: What?

Red Sox (Chorus):
The long ball!
The far wall--

Francona: Youkilis. You're up.

Ortiz:
Whoa, mon.
Watch that ball go, mon.
Youkie flies ta center and Markie goes ta right.
I'm gonna aim, mon.
This swing's my game, mon.
Slow-pitching Jame, mon...

[THWACK]

Adam Jones: Oh shit, it's gonna be a long night.

Ortiz:
I loving this first base!
I never lose my place.

Raul Ibanez:
Maybe if I hit a grounder
It'll smash your face.

Kapler:
Yippee! They made an error!
I thought that I'd be out.
But now I do the dance of joy and shout!

Gonzalez:
I love facing Jamie Moyer,
Truth be told.
It's not just pitching slowly
'Cause he's old;
It's that he's throwing cookies
And hitting them's so fun--
My average against him
Is a perfect number one!

Moyer: WHAT?

[THWACK]

Ibanez: Hey, that was a nice shot. He hit the Emerald Queen sign.

Betancourt:
You say Manny being Manny
I say Yuni being Yuni
Who say Richie being Richie?
You see Jamie being Jamie--

Bloomquist:
I'm Willie being Willie!

Betancourt: [rolls eyes] Really really?

Sexson: This is silly.

Moyer:
Why can't my team score some runs?
I'd like to have a longer rest just once.

Varitek: Trust me, Moyer, you will always remember this as the day you almost struck out...

[THWACK]

...Captain Jason Varitek.

George Sherrill: Jesus CHRIST will someone warn me when Moyer's gonna serve up another one so I don't get hit in the head on the way to the can.

Red Sox (Chorus):
The long ball,
The far wall,
We're gonna hit them out there
If we're hitting them at all!

Gonzalez:
My perfect average is intact,
I'm going to walk to first, infact.

Kevin Youkilis:
They call me the "Greek God Euclis",
They say I'm down with OBP.
Rather than being rebukeless,
I'd rather them think, "You KILL this"...

[THWACK]

Sox Fan in Section 152: Use the force, Youk. Use the force.

Mike Morse: What?

Greg Dobbs: Dude, you're not even here. Lay off my roster spot.

Moyer:
It's still so freaking hot out,
And I just can't get a break
How much freaking longer
Is this inning going to take?

Ortiz:
I loving this first base!
I can walk there at my pace!

Manny: [rapping]
Hey yo wussup hey
I'm Manny ya say
I'm the dude puttin' spikes in your E.R.A.
I'm the Moyer Destroyer,
I got a good sense
I'm puttin' the ball right over da fence
I'm the spark in the dark
Ain't no question no mark
That I'm gonna hit it straight outta da park

[THWACK]

Ichiro: The long ball...

Adam Jones: It has a sort of catchy tune, doesn't it?

Ibanez: The far wall...

Adam Jones: So this is what real major leaguers hit like, huh?

Moyer: I wondered when he'd finally go and make the bullpen call...

Johjima: You do okay, Moyer-san. Only give up six hits.

Sexson: Yeah, and five of them were jacks!

Johjima: Sounds like good poker hand!

Red Sox (Chorus):
The long ball,
The far wall,
Just give us a few hours, we'll hit homers to McCall.
We launch them to the outfield,
We don't know where they'll fall.
They could land in the bullpen
Or in the entry hall.
It's typical with Boston
To see the game be tossed in.
No matter the location
You'll see our dedication
To conquer every team for Red Sox Nation!

Mike Hargrove: Okay, guys, we're changing this musical to "Into the Woods."

Jake Woods: What?

Mike Hargrove: Just throw strikes, son.

Weekend Roundup - Mariners @ Angels.
Friday: Mariners 4, Angels 1 - Washburninated.
Saturday: Mariners 12, Angels 6 - Ichirollin' wit' da homies.
Sunday: Mariners 6, Angels 2 - Kompletely Felix.
Sunday at Maple Wood: Winner Buys Beer 35, House of Slack 13. Yay softball season! Yay getting stomped! At least I was 1-3 with an RBI.



Jeremy Reed walked into the clubhouse Sunday morning with a big grin on his face.

"Hey guys, can I get you all to do me a favor and sign this bat for me?" he asked, holding out a Sharpie.

"Sure thing, man," said Mike Morse, taking the bat and pen and signing.

"Ya sure, ya betcha," joked Jamie Moyer as he signed the bat.

"Yeah, Jer, whatever you need," Raul Ibanez remarked, signing. "What's it for, anyway?"

"Well," Reed grinned sheepishly, "I've been a good son this weekend, unlike last time -- I remembered to leave tickets for my parents to the games, and I even cleaned up my room when I visited their house. But I realized I didn't have a cool Father's Day present for my dad yet, and I thought he'd like something special like a bat signed by the team."

"Yes, Reed-san!" replied Johjima. "You have become very good son now." He signed the bat.

"Hey, little man," started Richie Sexson as he took the bat. "I don't know how to break it to you, but Father's Day isn't until NEXT weekend."

Jeremy Reed blushed. "Uhh... uhh... I knew that! I just wanted to make sure I got it to him really early!"

Jarrod Washburn nodded. "There's nothing wrong with making sure you have your bases covered early for these things, J-Reed," he said. "But, you know... I believe you still owe your parents a home run for last time. And you have an unsettled score with Jered Weaver's older brother. He's still giving up home runs like there's no tomorrow."

Reed laughed. "You're right, J-Rod," he replied. "But that's harsh, dude. Calling Jeff Weaver that... it's almost as if people were going to call me Mark Reed's older brother, y'know?"

Willie Bloomquist muttered, "What makes you think we don't already?"

Reed turned. "What?"

Bloomquist blinked. "I said, did you get your bat signed by Eddie?"



The score was 1-0 in the top of the second as Jeremy Reed stood in the on-deck circle, crouching with his bat over his shoulder, watching as Jeff Weaver pitched to Carl Everett, imagining these were his pitches to hit. Weaver's really got his stuff today, he thought, as Everett fouled off another pitch.

Reed usually hated to glance into the stands during road games, as there were always a few fans in those home plate seats who had paid tons of money to sit close and were going to make the most of it heckling the opposition. But today it was okay. He could see his mom and dad sitting there, wearing their Mariners jerseys, smiling and giving him a thumbs-up. It was always nice playing in south California, where his friends and relatives could come cheer him on. Good thing the Angels had all righty pitchers too, which meant lots of playing time.

Carl Everett swung and missed for Jeff Weaver's third strikeout of the day, and walked back to the dugout wordlessly. Two out. Jeremy Reed took his bat and walked up to the plate without looking back at the stands.

Jered Weaver's older brother, meet Mark Reed's older brother, he thought, as he grinned slightly and prepared to see what he could get.

First pitch, fastball, a bit outside. Reed laid off it, hoping for something he could really get a good hack at. The second pitch was inside, too far inside. He laid off that too. Ball two. A pause. He stared out, and Weaver wound up. The ball came in towards his bat, and Reed hit it hard.

He ran. The ball sailed out, out, out -- out! A home run! Yessssss!

Circling the bases, he kept his head down, but when he made it home, he looked up. His parents were applauding. Rene Rivera put his hand up for a high-five.

"That one's for you, man," Reed pointed at Felix as he came into the dugout amidst congratulations from his teammates.

"No... es para tu padre," replied Felix, high-fiving back.

"Yeah... your dad digs the long ball," muttered Bloomquist from his end of the bench.



Jeremy Reed caught up with his parents for dinner after the game, where he presented his dad with the baseball bat signed by the team. "Happy Early Father's Day, Dad!" he said as he handed it over.

His dad took the bat. "Hey, this is great. Even better than that home run you got me. This is from the whole team?" he said, examining it, reading the signatures.

"Well, almost everyone," Reed admitted. "Eddie Guardado slept late."

"This is interesting," his dad said. "Someone wrote 'Your son sucks' in really small print off to the side here."

"That's weird," Jeremy said, glancing at it. "I don't know who on the team would do something like that. Maybe they meant Mark." He grinned.

"I don't think so. He was 3-for-4 with a walk today. Scored three runs in a blowout by Peoria."

"Did he hit a home run?"

"No."

"Ha! I win! They even hit me with a pitch because I was so good today!"

Friday: Pineiro gets beaten open like a pinata; Dr. Livingston fares no better.
Angels 12, Mariners 7
Saturday: Old friends Lackey and Washburn face off, Richie gets sick of extra innings.
Mariners 5, Angels 4
Sunday: Jeff Weaver can't think pink, Fruto's fruitful MLB debut.
Mariners 9, Angels 4



Jeremy Reed walked into the clubhouse on Sunday looking sort of grim.

"Oh, man, guys, I totally screwed up. You wouldn't believe what I did this morning," he said.

"Lost your pink bat?" guessed Ibanez.

"Broke your wrist again?" said Bloomquist hopefully.

"No... I forgot to get tickets to the game for my parents. Here I am, finally back within driving distance of home, and they're going to end up sitting in the outfield seats or something because I'm an idiot," he lamented. "And on Mother's Day at that."

Johjima shook his head solemnly. "Yes, Reed-san. It is very bad to dishonor parents. You must find way to repay them for mistake."

Richie Sexson grinned. "Hey, little man, you've been smacking the ball good these past few days. Maybe them sitting in the outfield isn't so bad after all. What better way to show your appreciation for your mom than to hit a home run to her?"

Reed perked up. "Yeah! If I could hit home runs off Kelvim Escobar and John Lackey, of course I can hit one off of Jeff Weaver! I'll go see if I can conspire with the ball boys to see if I can get 'HI MOM' written on a few of the baseballs before I launch one into the stands!"

Washburn nodded. "Not that I'd ever be one to point out failings of Angels pitchers, especially other guys with the initials JW who may or may not have replaced me in the rotation here, but Weaver's given up more home runs than pretty much everyone in baseball right now. Kick his ass."



Jeremy Reed stared out on the field in disbelief as Cabrera and Kennedy turned an unbelievable double play, and got ready to take his place in the batter's box for his first at-bat of the day.

"You can do it!" shouted Johjima as he jogged back to the dugout.

Reed grinned and stepped in. Jeff Weaver threw the ball. It was a great pitch, a perfect pitch. Reed dug into it and the ball went flying to left field, deep, deep, deeper. A home run on the first pitch! he thought as he took off running. Smack! the ball fell into Juan Rivera's glove.

"Crap," thought Reed as the inning ended and he walked out towards center field. He looked up in the stands in right-center and thought he saw his parents waving, but couldn't be sure.



An inning later, when he took on the outfield wall making a catch of a long Rivera fly (ah, sweet, sweet revenge) he heard an anguished cry from the stands which was unmistakably his mother. He got up and straightened his cap with a grin, feeling good about saving a run or two. "I'm okay, Mom!" he yelled. A minute later, Adam Kennedy launched a home run into the stands anyway. That does it, he thought. Next inning is mine.



The word had gotten out around the team that Reed's parents were in the outfield bleachers and he desperately wanted to send a Mother's Day present out there.

Carl Everett hit a homer into the right field stands and came back in amongst the high-fives. "You gonna hit one for his momma too, Joe Momma?" he smirked at Kenji Johjima, standing in the on-deck circle as Adrian Beltre hit a single.

"I will do my best!" said Johjima as he went out to bat, but alas, he grounded out to short. "Ganbatte, Reed-san," he said encouragingly. "Do not fear his curve."

Raul got one. Jose got one. Even Carl got one. I can get one too, thought Reed as he stepped in for his second at-bat. He could see that Jeff Weaver was really losing it, as he watched the first four pitches go by to a 3-1 count. Wait, he realized, If I walk, Weaver will be out by the next time I'm up, and I'll never be able to hit a home run for my mom off this bullpen. So he started swinging. Damn! he thought. Strike two. No! Wrong way! Foul. He stepped in and chased the next pitch, which was way too low.

"Strike three! YER OUT!" yelled the umpire, as Reed walked back towards the dugout with his head down. He couldn't bear to look out towards the outfield stands.

"Sorry bro. I'll get you one," said Yuniesky Betancourt as he passed by.

"Sure, whatever," replied Reed.

A few pitches later, WHAM! Betancourt slammed the ball, and it went flying, flying, flying over the left field wall, bouncing in the tunnel, over the Taco Bell sign. Betancourt ran the bases and came back to the dugout with a huge smile on his face, as Mike Scioscia went out to the mound to heave it to Weaver.

"Whoa," said Jeremy Reed. "If this is how you guys step up to a challenge, I ought to see if I can get my parents to follow us around to more games."

"Yeah, your mom digs the long ball," muttered Bloomquist from his end of the bench.



Later in the evening, Jeremy Reed went home to catch up with his parents.

"Dear, you looked great out there in the field today," his mother said.

"Yeah, mom, but I'm really sorry about the tickets thing, and especially about how awful I was at the plate. I went 0-for-4, struck out twice, and got myself picked off of first base. Who gets picked off base anymore? God, I suck."

The phone rang. His dad picked it up. "It's Mark," he told them. "What? You did? Hey, kid, that's great. You wanna talk to your mom?" He handed over the phone.

"What'd he do today?" said Jeremy, fearing the worst. "Don't tell me he got a home run when I couldn't."

"Nah. But he went 2-for-3, doubled, walked, knocked in a run, scored two more, and made some great plays at third."

"Oh, is that all?"

"He also remembered to call for Mother's Day."

Reed blushed a deep pink.

"Very nice, son. Now you match your baseball bats."

The Mariners-Twins game today was a battle of the lefties -- J-Rod the Washburninator vs. El Presidente. Both of them were actually pretty good overall, but both of them had brief lapses of "Hits for Everyone! Wheeee!" times, and J-Rod's was just much more prolonged and painful than Santana's, thus resulting in the Twins winning the game 5-1.

Santana started off the game with his serving of hits, as Ichiro tripled, Willie Bloomquist drove him in on a single, and Ibanez followed it up with a single. Then, suddenly, he realized: "Wait a minute. I am Johan Santana, Destroyer of Worlds. I don't give up hits, I strike out everyone in sight. Duhhhhh." So he struck out Richie, Carl, and Beltre in a row, and then came back to the dugout and said, "None of you saw those first three batters, right? We cool?"

Jarrod Washburn got through the first inning just fine, but he hit the bottom of the second and suddenly started giving up hits left and right (and center). Leeewwwww singled. Morneau singled. Even Tony Batista singled. Rondell White doubled. Little Nicky Punto singled. It was a veritable hit parade. Shannon Stewart grounded into a double play, but by the time the dust had settled, the Twins were up 4-1.

Then nothing happened for a very long time and I went home from work, and by the time I checked the score again, the game was over and the Twins had won it. It appears that Sean Green got to make his MLB debut in the 8th inning though, so good for him.

I had this momentary flash of, er, brilliance, when I realized Lew got a single, White got a double, Ichiro had gotten a triple... obviously this calls for a new comedy duo named Everett And Castillo, to do their rendition of the classic routine, "Lew's on First":

Everett: You take these Twins, they've got such bizarre nicknames these days thanks to Bat-Girl. I can't keep track of who anyone is anymore.
Castillo: Yeah, I guess. Let's see, Lew's on first, White's on second, Ichiro's on third...
Everett: Wait, tell me about the guy on first.
Castillo: Lew.
Everett: The guy who just singled.
Castillo: Lew.
Everett: He nearly decapitated Betancourt.
Castillo: Lew is on first.
Everett: White's on second?
Castillo: Yes.
Everett: Yes is on second?
Castillo: No, White's on second.
Everett: And Ichiro?
Castillo: He's on third, we're not talking about him.
Everett: Now how did I get on third?
Castillo: Why, you said his name.
Everett: If I said his name, wouldn't Lew be on third?
Castillo: Lew's on first.
Everett: Wait, so if I stole the shoes of the guy on first, I'd have whose shoes?
Castillo: Lew's.
Everett: I lose?
Castillo: No, Lew's.
Everett: So I win?
Castillo: No, Winn isn't even at this ballgame. The shoes are Lew's.
Everett: I thought Shouse was playing for Texas.
Castillo: Oh my god, this joke is so lame. Go suck a dinosaur.

Then again, maybe this is just what happens to my brain when it can't take watching Washburn get hit like a printer in Office Space.

Speaking of getting hit, my favorite ex-Pirate Jason Kendall beat the crap out of John Lackey today. Wheeeee. Check out the video in this recap. Now, not that I'm in favor of these sorts of things, but that's a pretty entertaining brawl, relatively. Don't mess with Kendall, yo.

And speaking of Pirates, Zach Duke pitched a complete game shutout of the Cubs, and the Pirates scored 8 runs, which probably used up most of their run-scoring karma for the whole week. Oops. I guess the rest of their rotation will also have to pitch shutouts.

Have you all been reading Baseball Between the Numbers? Are you ready to come hang out and discuss it this Saturday?

Man. I'd been rooting all along for Japan to go all the way in this tournament, but it was looking so unlikely for a while, especially with that ridiculous bonehead Bob Davidson out there. (Can you believe he was yelling at the Japan team for some of the guys having their feet on the top step of the dugout in the 9th inning?) But, overcoming all sorts of craziness, tonight was the final game of the WBC, and Japan proudly takes home the trophy.

Japan 10, Cuba 6

(a good play-by-play account is at japanbaseballdaily; I'm too lazy to write one)

That was a really fun game. Despite Japan running away with the 4-0 lead from the first inning, the Cuban team played well and played hard, and came really close to tying it up in the later innings, getting to 6-5 with the help of a few Japan errors. The errors were a bit frustrating to see, but some of the really nice plays made up for it; Ogasawara was great in the field, even though he didn't hit a home run for me. (The 3 RBI without actually getting a hit made up for it.) Tamura didn't kill himself today. Matsunaka was hilarious lumbering down the basepaths. Kawasaki barely grabbing a tiny piece of home plate while being blocked by the Cuban catcher twice his size was pretty impressive; Ichiro nearly somersaulting over the plate a bit later was pretty funny. After the first batter or two, Matsuzaka really did show his true form, which was pretty damn good. Getting to see Watanabe pitch again for a bit was a treat as well. I really enjoyed the game overall, especially the part where I got to see all my favorite players celebrating their victory at the end. And unlike the Japan Series, I didn't have to stay up until 6am for it!

What I really wish, though, is that we'd come up with the ESPN Announcer Drinking Game *before* tonight so we could put it into action! Now I'll have to wait three whole years to use it!

The Japanese Baseball ESPN Announcer Drinking Game

Sip every time the announcer says:
- "The legendary Sadaharu Oh"
- "Oh-san"
- "868 home runs"
- "Bobby Valentine"
- "Bobby Valentine's Japan Champion Chiba Lotte Marines"
- "41 stolen bases last year"
- "These guys are masters at bunting."
- "His knuckles practically scrape the ground!"
- "These Japanese pitchers really can throw strikes!"

Drink every time the announcer:
- Confuses one player for another
(drink twice if they do the same thing twice in a row, as in when they kept saying Matsunaka was playing first base instead of Ogasawara for about two innings straight)
(drink three times if the ESPN *display* actually has the wrong name, such as the other night when Kosuke Fukudome went out to play CF and the screen showed him as "Seung Hwan Oh")
- Mispronounces a player's name
("Matsuzaki", "Oooeeey-hora", "Fuku-doom", "Aki", "Osawagara... er... I mean, Guts!")
- Tries to say "Kantoku" (manager); drink twice if it comes out more like "Kon-tiki"
- Mentions how Aoki got 202 hits last year and is the only person in Japanese baseball besides Ichiro to ever achieve that

Drain your glass when the announcer:
- Attempts to say something in Japanese and fails miserably (ie, "Watashi wa Petco Park ni orimasu")
- Tries to explain the name of the Nippon Ham Fighters
- Actually has more than a sentence to say about someone *besides* Ichiro or Sadaharu Oh

Alan Trammell followed Alex Rodriguez into the lounge, looking more than a bit confused as he looked at the group of guys hanging around. "Hey, Alex," he started, "I knew something strange had to be going on when you invited me to your house, but this looks like the weirdest party group I've ever seen."

A-Rod just smiled. "You're here by special invitation for a very special reason, my man." He waved an arm around, at the guys sitting, drinking, playing darts, pool, and poker. "What do these people all have in common?"

Trammell stared. He couldn't think of a single thing that Al Leiter, Albert Pujols, Alex Gonzalez, Alfonso Soriano, Alex Cora, and Alex Sanchez, among others, had in common. "They're all baseball players. Um. They're all baseball players whose names start with A?"

"You're on the right track. Keep going."

"Well, okay, their names all start with A and L. Except Sandy Alomar, what's he doing here?"

"Now you've got it! Everyone here, well, you can call them 'Al'. This is going to be the greatest team ever... it's the 2005 MVP AL STAR TEAM!" He waved Pujols to come over. "See, me and Al here, we realized that it was just too cool that both of the MVP winners were named Al. And so we wanted to come up with a special way to celebrate it."

"So," started Pujols, "We invited all of these other awesome Als here."

"Ha, guys," laughed Trammell, "Then what am I doing here?"

"You, Al Trammell," said Pujols, "are going to be the MANAGER of our awesome Al-Star Team."

Trammell glanced around. "I hate to break it to you, fellows, but most of these guys are shortstops. Who's going to play anywhere else?"

Pujols and A-Rod looked at each other and grinned. "Well, Rod's playing third and I'm playing first," started Pujols.

"Alomar's catching, obviously. We cheated, but the alternative was Alberto Castillo," A-Rod laughed. "As for the rest, well, it's obvious that the awesomest people would be Als and play shortstops, but the way I figure it, I'm the most awesome Al shortstop in the world and I've been playing elsewhere all year, so these guys can suck it up too."

"Alex Sanchez gets center field by default," continued Pujols. "Alfonso Soriano's playing second base, and we're giving Alex Cintron the shortstop job."

Trammell blinked. "Curious choice, men, why not Alex Gonzalez?"

A-Rod smiled. "Well, the problem is... which Alex Gonzalez? It wouldn't be fair to pick one over the other. And while the ALEX GONZALEZ SHORTSTOP DEATH MATCH sounded like a pretty cool pre-game event for our Al-Star Game, we figured it was a better idea to just put them both in the outfield rather than lose them to injury. One plays left, one plays right, we don't really care which."

Trammell seemed to accept this. "How about the bench? I assume Alex Cora is the infielder, Alexis Rios is the backup outfielder?"

Pujols nodded. "Yeah. Castillo's going to be our backup catcher, too. Al Leiter's the starting pitcher."

"You don't have much pitching for this team, actually. Alan Embree and... ah, another cheater, Alfonseca, in the bullpen?"

Pujols shrugged. "I wanted Al Reyes, but well, he's not throwing a ball again any time soon."

A-Rod said, "Well, now that it's all settled, we might as well get the party started, huh?" He clapped his hands loudly a couple of times. "GUYS!" he shouted.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked over at him.

"So, now that we've got our manager in the loop, we're ready to rock, I think. I'm guessing you've all figured out why you're here. Mr. Pujols and I, we could be happy just being the MVP's, sure. But we wanted to share the fun with an entire group. And all of you are what we consider the MLB's MAP's!"

"The Most Al-uable Players. This is going to be the most fun exhibition ever. We are all Als, and we are all stars. This is the greatest Al-star team ever assembled. Here's our proposed lineups," said Pujols, handing out sheets of paper to people.

A-Rod grinned as the papers were passed around. "We're celebrating all sorts of Als. In tribute to one of the earliest baseball Als, Al Spalding, the Spalding sporting goods is providing all sorts of equipment. In tribute to Alexander Cartwright, we're playing the game in New York."

"Oh, and wait until you hear the coolest part," said Pujols. "We contacted several celebrity Als to sing or perform for the pre-game. Weird Al Yankovic said he respectfully didn't think he'd fit in well with our Al-Star team, but he *did* write us a song for the occasion. Hey Rod, strike up the karaoke machine, man, and toss me a mic..."

A-Rod flicked a few switches on the complex media center, and music started blaring from the speakers. Pujols caught the microphone and started singing in a falsetto voice in the intro.

"I won my MVP..." he sang in his best imitation of Sting. The drums pounded. "I won my MVP..."

The rest of the room started nodding their heads to the guitar of Mark Knopfler and Dire Straits as the music to "Money For Nothing" played.


A-Rod:
Now look at them voters, here's the way you do it
You play the baseball as a stud Yankee
We got the writers, got the big-ass payroll
But money means nothin' to a guy like me.
Now that guy Pujols, playin' on the Cardinals
Lemme tell you, that guy can jam
Maybe'd be his second if not for that Bonds guy
Maybe he's as awesome as I am

I fought to win some mighty great sluggers
Vlad Guererro, and Dave Ortiz
I got to send them back to the dugout
'Cause they ain't this year's MVP's

Pujols:
See that A-Rod with his ribbies and his homers?
Yeah, buddy, he's a nightmare
That crazy slugger's gonna be a hall of famer
That crazy slugger is a zillionaire

I fought to win some mighty great sluggers
Andruw Jones, and Derrek Lee
I got to send them back to the dugout
'Cause they ain't this year's MVP

A-Rod:
I shoulda learned to pitch like a star
I shoulda learned to strike out bums
Look at those slackers, they're out there, sitting in the outfield 'pen
Goofing off all day
The call comes, "What's that? Pitch for an inning?"
They're throwin' on the mound for just an out or three
See, that ain't workin', that's the way you do it
Get your money for nothing and your naps for free

Both:
We had to beat some mighty great sluggers
But we're the finest as you can see
We got to send them back to the dugout
'Cause they ain't this year's MVP

Pujols:
Now we're the winners, any way you cut it
We worked our butts off for that MVP
We're always out there, lookin' at those bench guys
They get their money for nothing and their naps for free

A-Rod:
You get your money for nothin', and your naps for free

Pujols (overlapping):
I won my, I won my, I won my MVP...


Everybody applauded. The music faded out.

"So, um, hey, A," said Alfonso Soriano. "Having an Al-star team is good and all, but who exactly are we going to play against?"

Pujols shrugged. "Well, that isn't exactly clear yet. It's looking like it'll probably be Ryan Howard and the All-Ryan team, though."

"Yeah," agreed A-Rod. "For some reason, Vlad's having issues getting together an All-Vlad team."