Frenchyphobia

"Given its lengthy history and various changes in relative international status, properly qualifying hostility toward Frenchy and his fans with one term is difficult.

Frenchyphobia is used here as it is the historically understood term for the most pronounced and longest running hostility toward things Frenchy — that of the United Kingdom from the 17th to 19th centuries, though it continues very much to the present day amongst the general populace. Francophobe and Francophile, along with the now archaic[citation needed] Gallophobe and Gallophile, would have been well understood to British commentators of the period and the former terms are still easily grasped today, even by Royals announcers. 

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It seems likely that a certain Mr. Jason Daniel Kendall will haunt Kauffman Stadium no more. 

In other words, HWSNBN can now be named, once again.   His season/career ending injury is unfortunate--no person of good will should wish such injury upon another.    Let us stipulate that I am not the court-appointed Hall Monitor on this site--nevertheless, I have been pleased to see the collective restraint my fellow RR brothers and sisters have shown in the last few days as regards Mr. Kendall.   Since it was I who, not unlike Gandhi, inspired a movement against the use of the Kendall name, I feel compelled to withdraw the ban.    My friends, let the Fredo treatment end.

May the road rise up to meet him, may the wind be ever at his back, and may he learn to pick on people his own size.

Am I the only person growing tired of the pandemonium that results from these walk-off wins?    

Have the playoffs suddenly arrived whilst I wasn't looking?    Call me a curmudgeon, if you must, but I really don't think a 3-2 win on a cold Thursday night should result in every Royal going apeshit, running around pinching and grabbing and fondling each other like they're at a Tailhook convention.

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The optimism Royals' fans have from our team going 4-2 is a sight to behold, or hear, at least.   

Listening, for instance,  to Kevin Keitzman's high-pitched rhapsodies yesterday, I was tempted to divert my high-performance rig over to the 810 Zone and engage in on-air medical heroics, but I figured the Plaza parking situation would be a headache.   Nevertheless, if heart attacks can be induced by jumping on the Royals' Bandwagon, then Keitzman's health is in danger, nay, even grave danger.  (Then again, is there any other kind?)

Therefore, in keeping with the learned and somewhat effete nature of this website, but also as a gentle reminder that realism is the more healthy lifestyle choice, especially for Royals' fans generally and Kevin Keitzman in particular, I offer as a public service, an excerpt from Houseman's famous, Terrance, This is Stupid Stuff:

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No, not in a Plaza Parade sort of way.   

This team may be interesting simply because it appears, after a very small sample size, to be made up of competitors.  Now, some on this site may poo-poo the notion of "competitiveness" because it  sounds dangerously close to a nothing-term, or a one-word substitute for saying "I like the cut of this team's jib."    Fair enough.   But it is an empirical fact that some people are more competitive than others, and if this is true, for instance, in my world of Lawyer Land, why wouldn't it be true in Baseball Land as well?

It turns out there is some data to support the notion that "aggressiveness", a word we have heard a lot about during Spring Training as relates to baserunning, for example, is more or less synonymous with competitiveness.    It also turns out that there is a growing belief that there is a way to quantify competitiveness, both individually, and in the aggregate.  If aggressiveness leads to competitiveness, then a box score with seven (7) stolen bases on it may be telling us more than we think.

Please note the title of this post:   this team may actually be interesting.    That is not the same thing as saying they will play .500 ball over the long term.   At this point in my career as a Royals fan, however, I will take interesting over the past quarter century of alternatives.

Here's to hoping that Spring Training ends at some point. 

We have grown old together during this Spring Training season.   The world has endured earthquakes, wars and rumors or war.    More close to home, so to speak, when this Spring Training started, Tim Collins was 6 feet tall.   I hear Collins has now shrunk to 5' 4", and, because his throwing arm has fallen off, his playing weight has dropped 12 pounds.    Let's call him the Royals' Owen Meany this season, and hope he doesn't suffer the same fate.   Say your prayers for Tim Collins, my friends.

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This year, a year we call 2011, and a  year that the Mayans might have called "Run For Fuckin' Cover!!", I plan to abstain from Jason Kendall, and I think everybody else should too.   

There is nothing new to say about Jason Kendall.    There are no novel complaints left about his skeels.   All the grit jokes are so worn they couldn't be used to sand a spanked baby's ass.  There is no new annoyance in his game that hasn't been covered, here and elsewhere.   My modest proposal is that we no longer discuss Jason Kendall.     Let him be the Ellsworth Toohey to our Howard Roark:  we won't even think of him.

Jason will be with us the rest of the year, my friends, this much is true.   He is like a rash on that part of your body you can't scratch, because your gut hangs over your belt and you are out of breath by the time you try to reach it.   In other words, he will be here until he is gone.   But that doesn't mean Kendall must occupy every third comment on every other thread, and I can confidently predict there is no useful Fanpost or Fanshot worthy of Jason Kendall--except this one, of course.    In short, let's give him the Fredo treatment, prior to the rowboat and firearms.

Won't you join me in this journey of self-discovery, this act of civilly disobedient anti-suckitude?  This will require some self discipline for all of us, but, just like the showing of a bluff after the bet is won, I believe this will be "good for the game."

Please sign up below.    You'll be proud you did.

I caught up with Jose Guillen's bank account (JGBA) just a few moments ago, and am able to file the following interview report to Royals' Review Nation:

-----------------------------

Me:   How do you feel about the Royals' decision to waive Jose?

JGBA:   Mostly empty inside.

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I caught up with Jason Kendell's bat ("JKb") the other day, and, although much of what I was told was "off the record", I am able pass along some significant insights to Royals' Review Nation.

The following is a rough transcription of my interview with JKb:

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I am not here to judge those who claim to have found the LeBron saga the slightest bit interesting.  

I might be tempted to swear them under oath and see if the really truly found the saga interesting, but that is a different question altogether.  

Students of Roman history are well aware that the term "bread and circuses" refers, in a nutshell, to the era of Rome's decline when its citizens were appeased by entertainment, and directed mainly to the shallow, immediete needs of the populace, i.e., in brazen appeals to their need for instant gratification.  

 If ever one were in doubt that we have culturally reached the "bread and circuses" stage of the American experiment, last night surely stomped that doubt in the head with a steel-toed cowboy boot.

In the spirit of full disclosure, I will admit I did not watch the hour-long program devoted to "The Decision".   No, it was enough to merely see the ESPN "leadup" to "The Decision" in the hour prior to the program involving "The Decision."  I watched about 40 seconds of speculation about "The Decision," at approximately 7:40 p.m. CST,  and that was sufficiently depressing to hit the off button.

But that 40 seconds actually made me think of the Royals, and why it is good to be Royals fan.

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Or, to put the question a different way:  should a rational Royals' fan want this particular team to win?

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Fellow Fans:  

If we win the next ten games and everybody else loses a bunch of games, we're going to be right back in the Thick of Things!!  

Also, if Gil Meh-che comes back from the DL and starts throwing pitches worthy of $1 Million Dollars per month, $250k per week, and/or 75 Thousand $$ per diem, we could leap frog some teams, pronto!!   Finally, don't forget that the guy we took over Timmy Lincecum is poised for a breakout season--just as soon as his elbow stops throbbing and he learns to avoid the occasional 10-run inning!!   

I have a strong feeling that Kyle Davies is going to go on a run, that Banny is going to pitch only in day games, and that JoGi has another 20-30 game hitting streak in him.   If that happens, lookout because we're going to be playing some Ball at the K in October, especially if we can dump some prospects to pick up Cliff Lee or Victor Zombrano (or whatever that angy Cub pitcher's name is) !!!

Consider this Post your Sanctuary for Optimism here at RR!!   

All you Yost and Yuni-haters stay away and quit your whining!!  

This post is for Optimists Only!!!

At the risk of stating the obvious, the Royals are not playing well this year. 

At the risk of understatement, the Royals are not much fun to watch. 

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10 thoughts on why every Royals' fan may wish to reevaluate his or her man-crush on Ned Yost:

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It looks like He isn't going to take things lying down: 

YOSTRADAMUS QUATRAIN #6-101

   THE LAW  AGAINST INEPT CRITICS

   LEGIS CANTIO CONTRA INEPTOS CRITICOS   

   Let he who reads certain blogs, consider carefully,

   Quos legent hosce versus mature censunto,

   Evil doers & idiots, be not interested:

   Profanum vulgus & inscium ne attrectato:

   Seers, Flawed Astrologers, Barbarians stay away,

   Omnesq, Astrologi Blemee, Barbari procul sunto,

   He who does otherwise, must be priest to the rite.

   Qui aliter facit, is rite sacer esto.

Man, talk about a high hard one!    

Not to be self-centered, but I read this quatrain to be aimed directly at those of us here at Royals Review...

The headline speaks for itself, but let me explain:

Ned Yost is a pretty odd name for someone.  

We can all agree that most people of the people named "Ned" that we met growing up were not professional athlete material in junior or senior high, so you have yourself an an anomoly right there.   Also, the last name "Yost" sounds like it would be a Dr. Seuss character, not the "take no prisoners when going up against the White Sox" type of guy we were treated to over the weekend.  

Finally, the dude doesn't look like a "Ned Yost" in the dugout:  he looks more like "Lance Manion", "Hank Reardon",  or "Not Trey Hillman", to me at least.

So let's put our heads together and give Ned a decent nickname.   

I will get the ball rolling with some ideas, but am willing to be overruled:

1. Yostradumus.

2. Yostus Maximus.

3. Yost of the Town.

4.  Yo, Nedrian!

5.  Yostest of the Not So Mostest.

6.  Hopefully, Not Trey (a throwaway, I admit).

Let's do this thing right!

I am getting so sick of the Royals' actions under Trey Hillman!

Trey needs to be fired!

And no, just because Zack got his first win yesterday, that shouldn't save him, either.  Yes, the Royals played decent baseball yesterday, but so what!!   They were on a 7 game losing streak forchrissakes.   They're more than 10 games out and it isn't even Memorial Day yet.   Bringing Dusty Hughes into yesterday's game, with the chance to blow another win for Zack, well, that is almost criminal. 

And don't even get me started on the whole Yuni thing with his lost popups, his swing at a crappy pitch with a man on third, and/or the junk in his trunk.

Consider this my Open Letter to Dayton Moore:   Trey Hillman needs to be fired!!! 

As we all grow weary of the Hillman Era, please ponder the following: 

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In baseball statistics, pitch count is the number of pitches thrown by a pitcher in a game.   None of the normal guidelines in the area apply to a certain pitcher by the name of "Gil Meche". 

Pitch counts are apparantly a concern not a concern for young pitchers Gil Meche, pitchers recovering from injury such as Gil Meche, or pitchers who have a history of injuries such as Gil Meche. The pitcher normally wants to keep the pitch count low because of his stamina  otherwise his arm may fall to the ground and quiver with exhaustion. Often a starting pitcher will be removed from the game after 100 pitches, unless his game is Gil Meche and he is making $1M per month as a starting pitcher on a team with limited payroll options, regardless of the actual number of innings pitched, as it is reckoned to be the maximum optimal pitch count for a starting pitcher.[1][2]

Pitch counts are sometimes less of a concern for veteran pitchers persons such as "Gil Meche," who has a history of arm and back and should problems and who was put on the DL last year after having to pitch 164 pitches in an otherwise meaningless game, and who after years of conditioning is are often able usually unable to pitch deeper into games. A pitcher's size, stature, athleticism, and pitches style (and/or type of pitch thrown) can also play a role in how many pitches a pitcher can throw in a single game while maintaining effectiveness and without risking injury, but his performance over the past 12-24 months in the area is irrelevant, especially if the pitcher has a first name of "Gil", and/or is otherwise known as a "warrior".

Pitch count can also be used to gauge the effectiveness of a pitcher. It is better under most circumstances for a pitcher to use the fewest number of pitches possible to get three outs, unless circumstances dictate otherwise, such as when the pitcher's name happens to be "Gil Meche".

Opposing teams also pay attention to pitch counts, and may try to foul off as many pitches as possible (or at least any difficult-to-hit pitches) either to tire the pitcher out, or to inflate the pitch count and drive a pitcher from the game in favor of a possibly less effective relief pitcher. , or they may just throw their hands up and assume they are never going to get the dude out of the game, no matter how hard they try.

[The way pitch counts apply to pitchers not named "Gil Meche" can be found here]. 

Mortality

By William Knox

Oh! why should the spirit of mortal be proud?
Like a swift-fleeting meteor, a fast-flying cloud
A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave
He passeth from life to his rest in the grave.

The leaves of the oak and the willow shall fade,
Be scattered around, and together be laid;
And the young and the old, and the low and the high,
Shall moulder to dust, and together shall lie.

The infant a mother attended and loved;
The mother that infant's affection who proved;
The husband, that mother and infant who blest,--
Each, all, are away to their dwellings of rest.

The maid on whose cheek, on whose brow, in whose eye,
Shone beauty and pleasure, -- her triumphs are by;
And the memory of those who loved her and praised,
Are alike from the minds of the living erased.

The hand of the king that the sceptre hath borne,
The brow of the priest that the mitre hath worn,
The eye of the sage, and the heart of the brave,
Are hidden and lost in the depths of the grave.

The peasant, whose lot was to sow and to reap,
The herdsman, who climbed with his goats up the steep,
The beggar, who wandered in search of his bread,
Have faded away like the grass that we tread.

The saint, who enjoyed the communion of Heaven,
The sinner, who dared to remain unforgiven,
The wise and the foolish, the guilty and just,
Have quietly mingled their bones in the dust.

So the multitude goes -- like the flower or the weed
That withers away to let others succeed;
So the multitude comes -- even those we behold,
To repeat every tale that has often been told.

For we are the same our fathers have been;
We see the same sights our fathers have seen;
We drink the same stream, we view the same sun,
And run the same course our fathers have run.

The thoughts we are thinking, our fathers would think;
From the death we are shrinking, our fathers would shrink;
To the life we are clinging, they also would cling; --
But it speeds from us all like a bird on the wing.

They loved -- but the story we cannot unfold;
They scorned -- but the heart of the haughty is cold;
They grieved -- but no wail from their slumber will come;
They joyed -- but the tongue of their gladness is dumb.

They died -- ay, they died; -- we things that are now,
That walk on the turf that lies over their brow,
And make in their dwellings a transient abode;
Meet the things that they met on their pilgrimage road.

Yea! hope and despondency, pleasure and pain,
Are mingled together in sunshine and rain;
And the smile and the tear, the song and the dirge,
Still follow each other, like surge upon surge.

'Tis the wink of an eye -- 'tis the draught of a breath--
From the blossom of health to the paleness of death,
From the gilded saloon to the bier and the shroud:--
Oh! why should the spirit of mortal be proud?

I suspect it is rather odd for those who aren't baseball fans to stumble upon a website like this, and witness the passion that some adults have for baseball.   

Most of us have jobs and families and hobbies and worries about the real world, and yet, the regulars around here spend a great deal of time rooting for a baseball team that has done nothing of significance for almost a quarter of a century, or, if one is feeling generous about such things, a decade-plus. 

How can this be? 

My guess is that most hardcore baseball fans learned to love baseball in their youth, either by playing little league and its successors, or by listening to their favorite team on the radio, or some combination of both.   I fall into the "combination of both" category, and by far the most significant person in my baseball life as a youngster was Ernie Harwell, the legendary Detroit Tigers radio broadcaster, who passed away yesterday.    

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Waiting for Gordo (pronounced /ˈɡɒrdoʊ/) is a play by Samuel Beckett, in which two characters, Trey and Dayon, wait for someone named Alex Gordon, aka "Gordo."

Gordo's  injuries and bad attitude, as well as numerous other aspects of the play, have led to many different interpretations since the play's premiere. The play is considered by some critics to be one of the most prominent works of the "Theatre of the Absurd".

Also described as "nonsensical", Waiting for Gordo is Beckett's translation of his own original French version, En attendant Gordo, and probably just goes to show why a GM shouldn't acquire or trade for sub-par second basemen and left fielders from the Chisox in the off-season, without considering the obvious additional implications for a MLB roster.

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I realize this season already feels like the Battle of Little Bighorn, but it's true:  I'm starting to feel sorry for Trey. 

Hey, I know he pulls some boneheaded moves now and then, and he promiscuously uses that dreaded word "hopefully" the same way [feel free to insert clever analogy or metaphor here].   And, true enough, I was never a fan of the Missouri Compromise (by this I mean Trey's brief dalliance with a mullet, not the Congressional action that ultimately led to the War Between the States).  

Finally, there is no explaining Trey's man-crush for Bloomquist or his seeming contempt for Gordon, but frankly, he will have to answer for that to God at some point anyway, so I figure that issue will work itself out in Trey's very, very long Afterlife.

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I believe he might sing something along these lines, with the same heartfelt resignation, about the Bullpen:

E lucevan le Bullpen

How the stars used to shine there,
How sweet the earth smelled,
The bullpen gate would creak,
And a footstep would lightly crease the sand.
Chen would come in, fragrant as a flower,
And he'd promptly issue a bases loaded walk.

* * *
Now, my dream has vanished forever.
My last hour has flown, and I die, hopeless!
And never have I hated life more!

 

[Serious note: do yourself  favor and watch this version of E lucevan le stelle].

[Second serious note:  some say nobody does it better than Mario Lanza].

I have generally resisted the urge to insult Dayton Moore, either on this site or in general.    

I don't expect a Purple Heart for this.   I do think, however, it is far too easy, behind the comfort of anonymity especially, to claim somebody is "incompetent", or that they don't know what they're doing, or that they should be fired, etc.     I don't blame others for such comments about Dayton Moore, and I don't mean to knock anybody who contributes such comments on this site for doing so.

By way of background, I happen to work in a profession (lawyering) and a niche within that profession (trial lawyer/employment cases) where second-guessing is the name of the name of the game, so I am not temperamentally inclined to believe that most persons intentionally screw things up.    What looks like a grand plan or incompetence is. in my opinion, usually simply a good old fashioned mistake, armchair psychology notwithstanding.

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Anyone Lived in a Pretty Cow Town

anyone lived in a pretty cow town
(with up so floating many baseballs down)
spring summer, but not autumn or winter
Trey sang his didn't he danced his did

Women and men(both little and small)
cared for the bullpen not at all
they sowed their isn't they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain--and too much pain

children guessed(but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that noone loved the relievers more by more

when by now and tree by leaf
we laughed our joy we cried our grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone's any was all to us

someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then) they
said their nevers they got picked off first base

stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how children are apt to forget to remember
how bad last season truly was)

one day anyone died i guess
(and noone stooped to kiss Slugger's face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was

all by all and deep by deep
and more by more, but only to the warning track
noone and anyone earth by april
wish by spirit to go 18-11 again.

Women and men(both dong and ding)
summer autumn, but not  winter or spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain--and too much pain. 

[Based on an ee cummings poem, such as this.]

Advanced statistics can be applied to Royals' announcers too, you know. 

I have developed a rating system for announcers which I like to call the announcer's WAR/WAR rating:   i.e., Wild Ass Remarks/While Announcing (for) Royals.   

It's time to quit talking about our announcers' grit, hustle, etc.   I propose here nothing less than an objectification of the announcers' performance.   During the course of the season I shall be rating the announcers on a periodic basis, but for now, on this day of great optimisim, all announcers will start with a Zero WAR/WAR rating.   Then,hypthetically, if somebody brings up their playing days at the University of Minnesota, or rhapsodizes about the virtues of bunting, their WAR/WAR rating will be adjusted, accordingly.    Since I made this up, my decisions are final.   I am, for present purposes, not unlike the much-maligned Thing of Icelandic legend, and expect to be treated accordingly. 

Do bear in mind:   a UZR (unusually zany remark) will be worth double points in this system.    

Please feel free to post your predicted WAR/WAR ratings for your favorite announcer in the comments.    I shall give such predictions due regard.   

This fanshot by Royals Retro is chuck full of interesting information, and here is it is in all its glory:

"There are still guys on our team that make the same fundamental mistakes as they always do because they don't value it," Greinke said. "If someone thinks it's important, they'll do it better, but there's still a couple people that don't truly feel it's that important to their game."

I trust Greinke's judgment on this.   His brain pops the clutch of his mouth, so to speak.  He is one of those rare guys who has no filter, and we can safely credit the above quote as accurately depicting his state of mind.   So here are the questions:

1. Who are the guys "still .. on our team" Greinke is referring to?

2.  What "fundamental mistakes" are Greinke referring to?

We can clearly rule out newcomers from this list, as Greinke seems to imply by his term "as they always do" that (1) he's seen it before (alot), (2) that it's starting to really piss him off, and (3) that whoever is pissing him off doesn't seem to care about it very much, "because they don't truly feel it's important to their game."

I realize Sister Souljah Moments usually are meant to apply to politics, but perhaps, after 15 futile seasons in a row, it's time for a Royals player, our best Royals player, to start naming names, and have himself a Sister Yuni Moment.   

 Zack is untouchable.   Maybe he needs to take this sloppy gang that can't shoot straight by its collective pony tail and shake it vigorously.  Better yet, maybe Dick Kaegel or Dutton could get off the Homer Arses and actually ask Zack who he's talking about.  

My guess is they would get a straight answer, and my guess is Yuni ain't going to like it. 

1. Gil Meche would seem to currently have a sore shoulder.    For those who just crawled out of an Okinawan cave, please recall that  "Meche was limited to 23 starts and 129 innings because of shoulder and back problems in 2009."

2. Alex Gordon is injured early in the year, which may delay for him a much needed "breakout season."    And he still doesn't listen to the coaches.

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1.   "Camp Hopefully."***

2.    "Camp No Surprise". 

3.    "March Sadness". 

4.    "Moscow, 1812, An Encore, Minus the Upsides".

5.   "Can We Get A Breakout Season From Somebody Just Once?".

Please add your pick or vote in the comments, since I don't know how to do that vote-thingy. 

[***As an online journalist, I take my commitment to objectivity very seriously.    You know this from my extensive body of work at this site.   With that said, and with no intention to influence the vote, I am going to go ahead and say the winner should be Camp Hopefully.  I'm telling you, this organization is attracted to That Word (I refuse to use it again in this column) like flies to a hog farm in Northern Missouri--the same flies that then go buzzing around and ruining farmers' picnics.

For perspective, That Word is the verbal equivalent of dropping your drawers and running the base paths with your thumb in your mouth, and with your hat on backwards at that.    Imagine, for instance, if you asked a subordinate if she planned to get you that project on time, and her response was...That Word.   See what I mean?   Take all of things wrong with writing in the passive voice, and combine them with the image of a fat man at the swimming pool in his speedo from two seasons ago, and you have something merely approaching the foul and insidious effect of using That Word.   

But, hey, I don't mean to influence your vote or anything.]