SB Nation User Blog: Ice Cream

Blame It

Ice Cream — Mon, 15 Jun 2009 16:44:34 -0000

Jamie Foxx featuring T-Pain - Blame It (via jamiefoxx)

Original lyrics here.

Blame it on the juice, had to cut it loose
Blame it on the (testos) 'terone, no more in the zone
Blame it on the A-A-A-A-A's brand o' ball
Blame it on the A-A-A-A-A's brand o' ball

Lew said he usually don't
But I know that he front
'Cause Billy know what he want
They don't wanna seem like it's easy

I ain't sayin' what Lew won't do
But you know they're probably goin' to
What they been feenin' deep inside

(Get an out now)

Geren what you drinkin', don' let it sink in
Fear for the weakened, thinkin' we can
See if we can sweep if we press fast forward
Just one more round and you're bound to blow it

Fill another lineup, need another butt (what?!)
Lew don' even care now, I was unaware
How bad you was before
My Bud said, "In." My Bud said, "In."

Blame it on Foss, notch another loss
Blame it on Cotron', wretched at the 'phone
Blame it on the A-A-A-A-A's brand o' ball
Blame it on the A-A-A-A-A's brand o' ball

Blame it on Croz, blame it on Hanny
Blame it on the bat tap, hittin' like my granny
Blame it on the A-A-A-A-A's brand o' ball
Blame it on the A-A-A-A-A's brand o' ball

Ooh see, Lew gave a wink to Fre'
But now we know they ain't tipsy
He put some chips on Fre'
But he keeps Santa Clara in his eye

No tellin' what he gon' do
Baby he would rather show you
What you'll be missin' in your life
When he goes southside

Geren what you drinkin? Don' let the stink in
Here for the weekend, thinkin' we can
See where we could be if we press fast forward
Just 2010 if you're down, I'm fallin'

Botch another lineup, need another butt (what?!)
Lew don' even care now, I was unaware
How bad you was before
No butts sat in, no butts sat in

Blame it on the juice, had to cut it loose
Blame it on the (testos) 'terone, no more in the zone
Blame it on the A-A-A-A-A's brand o' ball
Blame it on the A-A-A-A-A's brand o' ball

Blame it on the quad, blame it on the hammy
Blame it on the bruised calf, gotcha feelin' clammy
Blame it on the A-A-A-A-A's brand o' ball
Blame it on the A-A-A-A-A's brand o' ball

(T-Long)

Lew, I know you feel good
Just like you look, couple more stats
You open like a book, I ain't trippin 'cause I'ma read ya
Lew, I ain't trippin', I jus' wanna please ya

Gotta take a shot of Novo, Chavy, then you know
Back's goin' down, gotta cut it like micro
You know what I mean
Lew got drunk, thought it all was a dream
SJ made him say aye, aye

Now he got his hand on my stad'
Got my seats all tarped in my ride
All over my ride

SJ looked Lew dead in the eye
Then their bats got bigga
SJ already knew what to figga
Had Lew lookin' at Oakland like, "F*** dat n****"

Blame it on the juice, had to cut it loose
Blame it on the (testos) 'terone, no more in the zone
Blame it on the A-A-A-A-A's brand o' ball
Blame it on the A-A-A-A-A's brand o' ball

Now to the owners poppin' bottles
With they penny in they cup screamin'
Money is the thing, if it is throw it up in the sky
Just hold your fans up high

And to the independent owners
Who can buy they own ballas
If you lookin' like a model
When them broke fellas holla, tell 'em bye
Rev' sharin's too high

You can blame it on the juice, had to cut it loose
Blame it on the (testos) 'terone, no more in the zone
Blame it on the A-A-A-A-A's brand o' ball
Blame it on the A-A-A-A-A's brand o' ball

Blame it on the 'pen, blame it on Ziggy
Blame it on the flu that ya got from a piggy
Blame it on the A-A-A-A-A's brand o' ball
Blame it on the A-A-A-A-A's brand o' ball

José

Ice Cream — Sun, 08 Feb 2009 00:20:43 -0000

[Original lyrics here.]

José

We're gonna flush out the rats and looters
With José's hormone
We're gonna rev up the thick-guaged shooters
When José comes home to stay
We're gonna buy in the street

Shoot on the bench and make it
Throw down the clear till the A's say when
Say anabolic, take it
With José's hormone

With José's hormone, so good
He's the pride of the Oaktown 'hood
He's A-Rod's flame, with Mark McGwire
He played while a-roidin'
(But he's not a liar)

Jo would you love to BALCO
He'll never say no, no
Shine up the butt with andro
We'll shoot it all up tonight
We're gonna mix in the cream

Prick at the stroke of midnight
Dance on with Bonds till D.A.'s say when
Pick up what's left at daylight
With José's hormone

With José's hormone, so bad
He's the Bash Friend you never had
He's A-Rod's flame, with Mark McGwire
He played while a-roidin'
(But he's not a liar)

With José's hormone, so good
He's the pride of the Oaktown 'hood.
He's A-Rod's flame, with Mark McGwire
He played while a-roidin'
(But he's not a liar)

O Beaneian Rhapsody

Ice Cream — Tue, 30 Dec 2008 22:43:18 -0000

Queen - Bohemian Rhapsody (via Frozentoast)

Original lyrics here.

O Beaneian Rhapsody

Is this the real team?

Is this just fantasy?

Caught in a nonslide

No escape from that Jeremy

Open your eyes

Look up to these guys and see

I’m just a poor boy, don’t need free agency

Because I’m easy come, easy go

Bid too high, bid too low

Anyway, the win’s blown; doesn’t really matter to me, to me

Macha, just quilled a man

Put a pen against his head

Squeezed the barrel, now the dread

Macha, budget’s just begun

But now I’ve gone and blown it (Holliday)

Macha, ooo.

Didn't mean to make you cry

If I'm not back again this time tomorrow

Carry on, carry on as if no team really matters

Too late, L. Davis gone

Send shivers down my spine

Chavy’s aching all the time

Good-bye everybody – I’ve got to go

Gotta leave you all Devine and face the truth

Macha – ooo – (anyway the win’s blown)

I don’t want RyRy

I sometimes wish I’d never seen Brown at all

I see a little silhouetto of a man

Scary Lewis, scary Lewis, will you hit the damn fungo?!

Under belts are tightening, very very frightening

Mike Gallego, Mike Gallego

Mike Gallego, Scutaro!

Magnifico!

But I’m just a poor boy and nobody loves me

He’s just a poor boy from a small market team

Spare him his life from this monstrosity

Crosby come, Crosby go – will you let me go?

Beane’s milieu! No! We will not let you go! Let him go!

Beane’s milieu! We will not let you go! Let him go!

Beane’s milieu! We will not let you go! Let me go!

Will not let you go! Let me go!

Never let me go! Ooo …

No, no, no, no, no, no, no –

Oh Macha see ya, Macha see ya, (my Casilla) let me go

See, Ellis, bub’s, seen a devil with a side d’livr’y

D’livr’y

Ziggy!

So you think Jason Giambi can spit in my eye?

So you think you can love me despite Jermaine Dye?

Oh baby -- can’t do this to me baby

Just gotta get out – Josh gotta get right Outman here

Ooh yeah, ooh yeah

No team really matters

Anyone can see

No team really matters – no team really matters to me

Anyway, the win’s blown …

Projecting the Friendliest A's

Ice Cream — Wed, 12 Nov 2008 06:14:04 -0000

C: Kurt Suzuki--Kurt is from Hawaii and Hawaiians are hella friendly. Grade A

1B: Daric Barton--friendly but could be friendlier with the right person. Grade B+

2B: Mark Ellis--would be friendlier but unicorn duties often supercede friendship. Grade B

SS: Bobby Crosby--not playing well + still a relative newlywed = not very friendly. Grade D

3B: Eric Chavez--used to be really friendly but injuries and surgery have hampered him; could bounce back in 2009. Grade B

LF: Matt Holliday--married with two sons, "Big Daddy" figures on prodigious friendliness in his new Oakland digs. Grade A

CF: Ryan Sweeney--see Daric Barton. Grade B+

RF: Travis Buck--wants to be friendlier but needs to get his confidence back. Grade C+

DH: Jack Cust-- friendly enough but a little too selective at times. Grade B

SP: Justin Duchscherer--as with Ellis, Duke would be friendlier if he wasn't so focused on the task at hand; knows how and when to turn it on/off. Grade B+

RP: Brad Ziegler--AN brother has answered all our questions and been awesome on and off the mound. A baseball blogger's best friend. Grade A+

But (should we reacquire him) the odds-on choice for Friendliest Athletic of 2009 will turn out to be ...

OF/1B: Nick Swisher--with Swish's track record it isn't even a contest. Nuff said. Grade A++

Weekend Link Dump 11/8-9 Simon Says

Ice Cream — Sat, 08 Nov 2008 14:40:23 -0000

Simon Says promotion falls short of world record.

Other Simons say: "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"Where have you gone, Joe Dimaggio?"

"Mickey Mantle wet his bed 'til he was 16 years old?"

"Eaahh!"

"I want to apologize to her and the fans of Milwaukee."

"I'm thirsty. Give me a cup of tea!"

"If only I had been born Italian. All the best Yankees are Italian."

Dump away.

Ha! You're out.

I didn't say, "Simon says...".

"Write Like Ratto" Contest

Ice Cream — Tue, 12 Aug 2008 22:48:59 -0000

For all you Ray Ratto lovers and haters out there and assuming that imitation (or parody) is the sincerest form of flattery, here's your chance to declare yourselves in the first ever "Write Like Ratto" contest.

Ratto is the S.F. Chronicle sports columnist whose work can inspire admiration or derision. Sometimes both. Here's his latest column on the end of Brad Ziegler's streak.

The rules are simple: write a sentence, paragraph or column-length piece that captures the essence of Monsieur Ratto for you but at least it should include a tangential mention of the A's. (Pseudo-hip pop culture references and the phrase "boys and girls" to indicate expertise as a teacher and sports columnist are encouraged but not required.)

There will be no disqualifications in the event the rules are not followed.

Judges: none other than our own resident Ratt-o-philes ruben sierra and monkeyball!

Prizes: are you kidding?

Decisions of the judges are final. In case of a tie, an All-Star game will be declared.

There you have it.

So that you know just how low the bar is being set, I'll offer the following:

Today, boys and girls, we consider the plight of Rob Bowen--backup catcher du jour of the current incarnation of your Oakland Athletics. Of course every team, from the venerable New York Yankees down to the most infinitesimal Little League ballclub from Pawtucket, needs some sort of backup catcher to, you know, fill in now and then--namely, to spell the first-stringer in case of fatigue or injury.

But would anyone, save the most sober Beane-o-holic, not agree that an Athletic backup catcher is the least valued player in a hierarchy that values the undervalued? Other than warming up relief pitchers, the rare pinch-hit opportunity or the occasional start where he's dangled out there like a Duncan Yo-Yo rocking the baby--of what good is the backup catcher?

With Kurt Suzuki firmly entrenched in the #1 role, Bowen is left to ponder the would haves, should haves and could haves that define being numero dos behind the mask. Add to that the incessant nipping-at-your-heels feeling you get from cheap up-and-comers like Sacramento Rivercats Landon Powell and Justin Knoedler, and you have as much job security as a third-deck Coliseum usher.

In the current A's binge-and-purge milieu, it makes sense that the more anemic the offense, the more bulimic the attempt will be to bring in some bats, any bats, to fill in a hit-starved batting order. And when the young bucks are brought up, then who you gonna call?

Adam Melhuse?

Tales From the Crypt(ic): All-Star Edition

Ice Cream — Tue, 15 Jul 2008 13:48:21 -0000

The All-Star Oakland Athletics from the last 40 years have been horribly mangled.

The vault of horror is about to open.

Who's next? Perhaps you?

Tales From the Crypt(ic)

"The foulest stench is in the air

The funk of 40 Oakland years

And grisly A's from every tomb

Are closing in to seal thy doom ..."

Survival Guide

1. Bungled long relief, sir!

2. Unsound Harden, AN.

3. Whoa! Jelly jiggled.

4. Partly desire nap? Mac trebled and backed up.

5. Bash jocose acnes.

6. Wildly herd unjust riches.

7. Utterly cater to Clinton flip-flop.

8. Haystack after Sunday.

9. Scuff Scully's partner.

10. Eccentric hits mound.

11. Attach microphone to Harry Potter cat.

12. Harm AN nerd zone? Outrageous!

13. Memo: Doubloon misplaced.

14. Needles? I go jam in abs.

15. Stones' Richards' abominable strikeout and error.

16. To know Zito, Ziegler or Zagaris nickname follows otter's den.

17. Engineer vetoes investor.

18. Club mars Kerrigan rival first.

19. Salb! AN does not compute and is partially deleted.

20. A ritzy bro shelled?

21. Gertrude and Johann reportedly stay on first.

22. At first, jamming outfielder's errors reduces unexpected defensive implosions.

23. Mourn after Willard's rat.

24. Agreeing jocks should get tossed.

25. Disfigured elbow hit by car, at first.

26. Elite mug shot--Will Smith's wife!

27. Brady mom ends up shaky without tea, I hear.

28. Digital Animation and Visual Effects pairs with yo-yo maker.

29. Unsophisticated rustic leads Northern Califonia mountain range.

30. Local area networks cross last funfair employee, they say.

31. Hooker patron needs joint; aha!

32. Fred Dryer! Show puss angle first.

33. Golden Fleece captor in a siren's hug at sea.

34. LL blogger Seinfeld's sworn enemy?

35. Hereditary marker sounds like a gentlemen's sport.

36. 3rd-tone strikeout energy twisted Juliet's sweetheart.

37. Befuddles, silence key nerd.

38. Initially, VORP indicates distribution and baseball leagues' utility equivalency.

39. OMG! teh time = knowledge browser crashed!

40. Harden? Do seven? Questionable.

41. Bashed? Am a grim wreck.

42. Flipped 12 dozen archaic wagons? Not quite.

43. Doctor averted swat.

SPOILER ALERT: ANers may post answers below!

Thanks, AN! I won!

Ice Cream — Sun, 13 Jul 2008 13:53:02 -0000

Thanks, AN! I won!

Just want to say thank you to everyone here who voted for me in the A's "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" contest. I won! Mrs. Ice Cream and I got two MVP tickets to Friday's 9-2 beatdown of the Angels by Billy O'Beane and his Irish Mob (Jack Hannahan, Donnie Murphy, Andrew Brown, Dallas Braden and the new muscle imported from Chicago--Sean Gallagher and Matt Murton.) Along with the Sweeney boys and the younger laddies coming up like Patterson, Donaldson and Doolittle--we'll be running the AL West in no time.

(Special thanks to Englishmajor for keeping my name out there! You can change your sigline now!)

Ice Cream Sings

Ice Cream — Fri, 23 May 2008 23:17:23 -0000

Last month, on that day game vs. the Red Sox that was originally scheduled to be a night game, I found myself limping across the BART bridge (hobbled by a bout of plantar fasciitis) after reading on the A's website about their "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" contest.

I couldn't go to the game itself because my older scooplette had a half-day at school and I had to pick her up at noon but the contest was from 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. and I thought, "Heck, that's something I can do."

I was the first one there at the booth outside D gate and the A's video production crew was almost finished setting up. I volunteered to do a sound check for them and sang a rendition of the National Pasttime Anthem before proceeding to the real deal.

The crew was fun and afterward I got a "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" T-shirt for Mrs. Ice Cream. I made my way back to the BART parking lot with a little story to tell my wife when she got home and asked, "So what did you do today?"

Anyway, the video auditions are up. (I'm the guy not wearing a cap.)

(For those that know me, yeah, they got my name wrong.)

Oh, well. Go ahead and get your licks in.

Q: Can a team without HR power win a championship or WS?

Ice Cream — Sat, 12 Apr 2008 17:51:57 -0000

The 2008 A's (with the exception of Jack Cust) don't seem to have much home run power. Nevertheless, I'm enthused that the A's can go far as long as they keep hitting and driving in runs. You know, that and scoring more than other guys.

So my question for you guys is: Do you think a team (any team) can win a division or championship or World Series without a lot of HR power? Are there historical examples of that and if so, what did those teams have in place, e.g. pitching, great hitting, particularly weak opponents etc., to make up for the deficiency?

Thanks in advance to all of you who know more than me about this stuff and know how to look it up.