SB Nation User Blog: ReasonableDoubt

OTTOTD 11/20: I'm not dead yet edition

ReasonableDoubt — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 13:08:41 -0000

I kind of miss having a job where I could sit around here all day. Not dead yet, though. Enjoy.

CUSTOMER: Here's one -- nine pence.
DEAD PERSON: I'm not dead!
MORTICIAN: What?
CUSTOMER: Nothing -- here's your nine pence.
DEAD PERSON: I'm not dead!
MORTICIAN: Here -- he says he's not dead!
CUSTOMER: Yes, he is.
DEAD PERSON: I'm not!
MORTICIAN: He isn't.
CUSTOMER: Well, he will be soon, he's very ill.
DEAD PERSON: I'm getting better!
CUSTOMER: No, you're not -- you'll be stone dead in a moment.
MORTICIAN: Oh, I can't take him like that -- it's against regulations.
DEAD PERSON: I don't want to go in the cart!
CUSTOMER: Oh, don't be such a baby.
MORTICIAN: I can't take him...
DEAD PERSON: I feel fine!
CUSTOMER: Oh, do us a favor...
MORTICIAN: I can't.
CUSTOMER: Well, can you hang around a couple of minutes? He won't
      be long.
MORTICIAN: Naaah, I got to go on to Robinson's -- they've lost nine
      today.
CUSTOMER: Well, when is your next round?
MORTICIAN: Thursday.
DEAD PERSON: I think I'll go for a walk.
CUSTOMER: You're not fooling anyone y'know. Look, isn't there
      something you can do?
DEAD PERSON: I feel happy... I feel happy.
      [whop]
CUSTOMER: Ah, thanks very much.
MORTICIAN: Not at all. See you on Thursday.

We few, We happy few, shall remember this Niemann's Day.

ReasonableDoubt — Wed, 12 Aug 2009 12:21:20 -0000

via img524.imageshack.us

I know the past few days have been tough. You're broken, you're sore, you're tired of staying up until 1 or 2 in the morning just to see another heart-wrenching loss. But Boston's pitching is still horrible, and their lineup is about to take another hit with Youk's suspension. Texas is faltering against the Indians, and they're just as bad on the road as we are. They have to go through the entire AL East, including the Rays, in the next few weeks. This can be done. Nay, this must be done. The bandwagon is emptying so the idiots can focus on fool's ball. This is the time. This is the place. The comeback starts now. The comeback starts today. The comeback starts on St. Niemann's Day.

    What's he that wishes so?
    The user Raymondo? No, my fair DraysBay’rs;
    If we are mark'd to lose, we are enough
    To cheer the team, even if a loss; and if to win,
    The fewer fans, the greater share of bandwagon to ourselves.
    God's will! I pray thee, wish not one fan more.
    By Jove, I am not covetous for no-hitters,
    Nor care I how many sit in the Dome;
    It yearns me not if BJ Upton strikes out;
    Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
    But if it be a sin to covet the playoffs,
    I am the most offending soul alive.
    No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from the Bay.
    God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour
    As one fan more methinks would share from me
    For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
    Rather proclaim it, Raymondo, through my host,
    That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
    Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
    And crowns for convoy put into his purse;
    We would not cheer in that man's company
    That fears his fellowship to cheer with us.
    This day is call'd the feast of Niemann.
    He that outlives this season, and sees a playoff game this year,
    Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
    And rouse him at the name of Niemann.
    He that shall survive this season, and see these playoffs,
    Will yearly on the vigil brag to his co-workers,
    And say 'To-morrow is Saint Niemann.'
    Then will he make a joke and talk about the WAR,
    And say 'These thingss I learn’d on Niemann's day.'
    Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
    But we'll remember, with advantages,
    What feats we did that day. Then shall our names,
    Familiar in his mouth as household words-
    David the King, MVB and Beejus,
    Evan and Zaun, Maddon and Friedman-
    Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb'red.
    This story shall the good man teach his son;
    And Niemann Niemann shall ne'er go by,
    From this day to the ending of the world,
    But we in it shall be remembered-
    We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
    For he to-day that cheers this team with me
    Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
    This day shall gentle his condition;
    And gentlemen in Tampa Bay now-a-watching-the-Bucs
    Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
    And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
    That cheered with us upon Saint Niemann's day.

OTTOTD 8/11 - The Hulk Hogan Birthday Thread

ReasonableDoubt — Tue, 11 Aug 2009 13:46:54 -0000

It's Hulkmas, brother!

Today's starting off topics:

I watched exactly three outs of last night's game, and then fell asleep on the couch. I gather it was another frustrating loss.
In three weeks, it'll be September. Who do you call up, and do you wait for the IL playoffs to end first?
We're depending on the AL Central to help us out this week. That has FAIL written all over it.
Hurricane season is cranking up, and I'm not talking about Miami. Is this the year we get wiped off the map?

Discuss

How the Grinch Stole Our Payroll

ReasonableDoubt — Sat, 01 Aug 2009 14:53:21 -0000

via img38.imageshack.us

Before I begin, thanks to everyone who helped me edit for clarity and the rhyme scheme. It's a long read, but I hope you find it worth it. Now, for the benefit of Mr. Kite, please enjoy How the Grinch Stole Our Payroll.

Every Ray down in Rayville Liked the Playoffs a lot. But the Grinch, who lived just west of Rayville, Did NOT! The Grinch hated the Playoffs! The whole playoff season! Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason. It could be his head wasn't screwed on just right. It could be, perhaps, that his back was too tight. But I think that the most likely reason of all may have been that his balls were two sizes too small. But, whatever the reason, his back or his balls, He stood there on Playoffs Eve, hating the Rays mere gall. Staring down from his house in California with a sour, Grinchy frown at the warm lighted windows in the tiny Rayville town at such a late hour. For he knew every Ray down in Rayville beneath was busy now, rosterbating all day and night. And they're scouting other teams!" he snarled with a sneer, "Tomorrow is the Playoffs! They're practically here!"; Then he growled, with his Grinch fingers nervously drumming, I MUST find some way to stop them from going at all! For, tomorrow, he knew, all the Ray girls and boys would wake bright and early. They’d rush for their computers and check DRaysBay! And then! "Oh, the noise! Oh, the Noise! Noise! Noise! Noise!"

That's one thing he hated! The NOISE! NOISE! NOISE! NOISE!

Then the Rays, young and old, would sit down to the game. And they'd cheer! And they'd cheer! And they'd CHEER! They would cheer on their team, and their newest acquisition, which was something the Grinch couldn't stand in the least! And THEN they'd do something he liked least of all! Every Ray down in Rayville, the tall and the small, would stand close together, with cowbells ringing. They'd stand hand-in-hand. And the Rays would start winning! They'd win! And they'd win! And they'd WIN!

And the more the Grinch thought of this Rays and their winning, the more the Grinch thought, "I must stop this whole thing! Why, for fifty-three years I've put up with it now! I MUST stop these Playoffs from coming! But HOW?"

Then he got an idea! An awful idea! THE GRINCH GOT A WONDERFUL, AWFUL IDEA! "I know just what to do!" the Grinch laughed in his tum. And he started to blow games, and still get paid his awful sum. And he chuckled, and clucked, "What a great Grinchy trick! If I suck this bad, I’ll get DL’d right quick! All I need is a few homeruns." The Grinch looked around. But, since homeruns are scarce, there was none to be found. Did that stop the old Grinch? No! The Grinch simply said, "If I can't find a few homeruns, I'll throw softballs instead!"

So the next time he was called to pitch in a game. He started to pitch as if he was quite lame. He sucked! And he sucked! And he sucked AND HE SUCKED! The team had no choice. They sent him back home. He was sucking so much, he took the air from their dome.

All their windows were dark in the quiet Rayville Square. All the Rays were all dreaming sweet dreams without care. When he came to the first little house on the square, "This is stop number one", the old Grinchy Claus hissed. And he climbed to the roof, empty bags in his fist. Then he slid down the chimney, a rather tight pinch. But, if Santa could do it, then so could the Grinch.

He got stuck only once, for a moment or two. Then he stuck his head out of the fireplace flue where the little Ray trade deadline wishlists all hung in a row. "These rosterbations", he grinned, "are the first things to go!"

Then he slithered and slunk, with a smile most unpleasant, around the whole city, and he took every dream of a player! Halladay! Vmart! Cliff Lee! Clement! King Felix! Qualls! Gonzalez and Salty! And he stuffed them all in bags. Then the Grinch, very nimbly, stuffed all the bags, one by one, up the chimbley!

Then he slunk to the payroll. He took the Rays money! He took the 4 million! When he didn’t do shit! He cleaned out that payroll as quick as a flash. Why, that Grinch even took his shitty car back! Then he stuffed all their money up the chimney with glee. "And NOW!", grinned the Grinch, "I will stuff up their dreams!" And the Grinch grabbed the tree, and he started to shove, when he heard a small sound like the coo of a dove. He turned around fast, and he saw a small Ray!

It was Joeybw, who was not more than two. The Grinch had been caught by this tiny Ray child who'd only got out of bed for a cup of cold water. He stared at the Grinch and said, "Troy Percival, why? Why are you taking our payroll? WHY?"

But, you know, that old Grinch was so smart and so slick. He thought up a lie, he thought it up quick! "Why, my sweet little tot", the silly Grinch lied, "I’m a team player, and I can come back in a week. My back is all healed, and I’ll set you all on a huge winning streak!"

And his fib fooled the child. Then he patted his head and got him a drink and he sent him to bed, because he was so tired. And when Joeybw went to bed with his cup, The Grinch went to the chimney and stuffed the dreams up!

Then he went up the chimney, himself, the old bint. In their wallets he left nothing but dust and some lint. And the one speck of payroll that he left in the house was a crumb that was even too small for a mouse.

It was quarter past the trade deadline, all the Rays, still a-bed, all the Rays, still a-snooze, when he packed up his sled. Packed it up with their payroll!

The awards! The wins! The tickets! And the FrankTV! The hopes! The dreams! Five thousand miles west! Up the side of Mt. Crumpit, he rode with his load to the tiptop to dump it! "Nay-Nay to the Rays!", he was grinch-ish-ly humming, "They're finding out now that no playoffs are coming! They're just waking up! I know just what they'll do! Their mouths will hang open a minute or two then the Rays down in Rayville will all cry Boo-Hoo! That's a noise," grinned the Grinch, "That I simply MUST hear!"

So he paused. And the Grinch put his hand to his ear. And he did hear a sound rising over the snow. It started in low. Then it started to grow. But the sound wasn't sad! Why, this sound sounded merry! It couldn't be so! But it WAS merry! VERY! He stared down at Rayville! The Grinch popped his eyes! Then he shook!
What he saw was a shocking surprise! Every Ray down in Rayville, the tall and the small, was cheering! Without any new players at all! He HADN'T stopped the playoffs from coming! They came! Somehow or other, it came just the same!

And the Grinch, with his grinch-feet ice-cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, "How could it be so? It came without VMart! It came without Cliff Lee! It came without a new catcher, a hitter or me!" And he puzzled three hours, till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before!

"Maybe the Playoffs," he thought, "don't come from a store. Maybe the Playoffs...perhaps...means a little bit more!"

And what happened then? Well...in Rayville they say that the Grinch's small balls grew three sizes that day! And the minute his back didn't feel quite so tight, he whizzed with his load through the bright morning light. And he brought back the dreams! And the payroll for the team! And he... HE HIMSELF...!

Finally retired so we don’t have to pay him anymore.

Beckett Suspended 6 Games (1 Start) For Headhunting

ReasonableDoubt — Tue, 14 Apr 2009 18:44:34 -0000

Beckett Suspended 6 Games (1 Start) For Headhunting

In a related story....hahahahahahahahahahahaahahaha

If anyone wants Opening Day tickets, the Rays started releasing the seats they were saving for...

ReasonableDoubt — Wed, 08 Apr 2009 14:38:34 -0000

If anyone wants Opening Day tickets, the Rays started releasing the seats they were saving for opening day packages today. I just snagged a seat out in left field.

Dumb Luck

At least they have the next Bob Gibson.

ReasonableDoubt — Sun, 29 Mar 2009 14:51:13 -0000

At least they have the next Bob Gibson.

D-Train goes to the DL with "anxiety disorder". We know it isn't stage fright--he can pee in public no problem.

Games with odd start times

ReasonableDoubt — Mon, 16 Mar 2009 13:01:55 -0000

I went down to the Trop to get my first set of tickets this year (Screw you Ticketmaster, and your 7 dollars a ticket surcharge), and as I looked through the schedule, I noticed there are some odd start times this year. I remember last year with its random 12:40 PM "School Day" start times and everything, but some of these are just awkward.

For example, there are four games this year (4/15 v. Yankees, 5/5 v. O's, 5/21 v. A's, and 6/4 v. Royals) with start times at 4:08 PM. These are weekday home games. If all we're going to hear this year is attendance, attendance, and attendance, why are these games being scheduled for such awkward times?

There are two additional games (7/9 v. Blue Jays and 8/2 v. Royals) that have 12:08 starts, but I'll assume those are the "Back to School Days" start times.

I know there were a number of 1:00 starts last year, usually on a Wednesday or Thursday to round out a homestand, but who benefits from a 4:00 start?

Rays 2009 Promotions Announced

ReasonableDoubt — Thu, 22 Jan 2009 13:23:51 -0000

Rays 2009 Promotions Announced

If the "Aki Imawura Rattle Drum" becomes the new fad, I'm quitting sports. I will not sit in the Trop while 30,000+ people act like it's the final scene of Karate Kid II.

Memo to the Rays: You're reverting back to your roots. Stop it.

ReasonableDoubt — Sun, 19 Oct 2008 14:51:51 -0000

No, this isn't a post about the team's performance. It's about something else that made me leave the Trop disgusted.

I've been a fan of the Rays since Day 1. I was there for the first game against Detroit. I was listening on the radio when Wade Boggs cranked hit 3 grand. I sat and watched Vinny Cash-steala and Greg Vaughn suck so hard I could mistake them for an Asian chick walking down Nebraska Ave. I still own, sadly, a Ben Grieve jersey.

All that culminated in a game last summer where James Shields had 10+Ks against the Indians, left with a nice lead...and Brian Stokes went Brian Stokes.

Even though the game was a gutpunch, I realized something. The ushers, who under Namoli were pricks that not only would chide you for having fun, but would have you ejected for moving up in a section that was nearly empty. I'm not one of the douchebags who brings signs or airhorns, but I'm not of the opinion that you should deny the people the right to cheer how they like.

With the new ownership, and the 30 or so games I've gone to this year, that all changed. You were encouraged to let loose your inner douche without the ushers getting on your back. I bought Party Deck tickets and sat in the baseline boxes all year. I could heckle the opposing bullpen. I could be the prick that I actually am.

But last night, I was sitting in left field near the foul pole. I personally saw an usher chide a group of jackasses in front of me. For what, you may ask? Did they have a huge sign that was blocking a view? Were they abrasively drunk? No. They were standing up and cheering with Upton up, one man on, and down by 1 in the 4th inning. And after this crochety old man scolding these guys, one of the other guys they were with walked up to the guy, astoundingly calmly, and asked why they had to sit down. There was no row behind them (They were at the entrance). The host said, and I quote, as I was sitting maybe 10 feet from the exchange, "I was talking to them. If I was talking to you, maybe it'd be your business. You'll know when I'm talking to you because I'll look at you. Sit back down or you're out of here."

Maybe this usher was having a bad night. Maybe he woke up on the wrong side of the bed. But guess what, Old Man Winter? It's a playoff game. If I hadn't had my Dippin' Dots, I'd probably have been standing up with them. Grouchy Old Fan Hosts scolding people for cheering is not how a fanbase grows. It's how it shrinks.

I was so astounding by this (I hadn't seen this since the Namooli days) I actually went ot Guest Services to say something. I was heard out by someone that may or may not have been of legal voting age, and I was probably ignored.

I know this is a long rant, and I'm probably making a mountain out of a molehill, but when you start chiding people in the outfield for standing up and cheering during an at-bat, you take the fun out of the game. If those folks were anything like me, they paid a lot of good money for those seats. Chill out and let them have fun. Doing otherwise just turns off the people who want to sit and relax. I was so frustrated by the end of the night, I was tempted to wind down my window in the parking lot and sell my seat for tonight.