Viva La Revolucion!

Do you think I'm stupid, Major League Baseball? Do you think I don't see what you're doing?

I understand that baseball is a game of trends. First it was "Moneyball," the genius strategy of Oakland GM Billy Beane which focused on defense and on-base percentage. This revolutionary gameplan brought the Athletics years of prosperity and only stands to reap future benefits for the club.

In Beane's twelve year tenure, Oakland has been to exactly one ALCS (and lost), they are dangerously close to moving the team to Freemont, and Mark Mulder's career collapsed on itself like a vacuous black hole.


Brilliant.
The next great trend was steroids. Whoops...disregard. That never happened.

And now? Teams all over the league have entirely too many starting pitchers and are forced to sort it out over the course of the season. I see what you did there, Major League Baseball.

You stole my idea.

Consider: The Cubs move their ace Carlos Zambrano to the bullpen to make room for Ted Lilly, who's returning from the DL. Days later, the Milwaukee Brewers announce that Jeff "Junkball" Suppan, a former NLCS MVP, is also being removed from the rotation.

Boston is likely shifting veteran knuckleballer Tim Wakefield to the 'pen to make room for a returning Dice-K, and the Phillies' cup runneth over with JA Happ, Joe Blanton, Jamie Moyer and Kyle Kendrick all clamoring to fetch Roy Halladay some coffee.

This is getting out of hand, baseball. Did you think I wouldn't find out? Or did you think I would just sit back and take it? I'm the same guy who once had a snack stolen from him by his little sister, so I got really, really mad and totally told on her.

You have no idea who you're messing with, Mr. Selig.

Lucky for you, Bud, I love the game about as much as I love anything, so I'm willing to negotiate. This latest strategical revolution will be called Uphamball, and it will be glorious. Teams who employ this strategy will be "pulling an Upham." I've always wanted to be a verb. In exchange for leasing my idea to you, baseball, I make the following demands:

(1) I want a Constitutional amendment outlawing astroturf, the designated hitter and Kevin Youkilis.

(2) I want a kitten. It must be all black and named Sprinkles. If it's not the cutest widdle kitty ever ever, I will destroy it.

RIP Sprinkles, 2010-2010

(3) I want Chad Billingsley to pitch next year on April 19th, and before the game he will sing me "Happy Birthday" from the pitcher's mound. This is non-negotiable.

(4) I want Jay Mariotti to shut the hell up. Also non-negotiable.

Those are my demands. Failure to meet them will result in a cease and desist order being filed on my behalf, legally barring any starting pitcher from being moved to the bullpen, or vice versa.

Joba Chamberlain, your career hangs in the balance.

I will also shut down this blog, making it impossible for future GMs to steal my ideas and forcing my mother to find something else to do while at work. If you're reading this, Brian Cashman---and I know you are---make the right call.

While we await baseball's decision, we look to the future. The Darling Asteroids defeated NCSU Sluggers 10-2 last week, but there is no time to celebrate. Antarctic Arsenal and their pesky little GM Monty Bennett await. The Arsenal got an old-school beatdown from Joba Rules last week, losing 11-1 and falling to 11th place. This is going to be easy.

Things are looking up for the Asteroids. We're currently in third place and riding a one week winning streak, Monty sucks, and I'm about to have a new kitten.

Isn't that right, Mr. Selig? I'd hate for the blood of poor little Sprinkles to be on your hands.

Do the right thing, Bud. I want that kitty.

State of the Asteroids Address

My fellow Americans:

I stand before you a truly humbled man. When we began our journey two weeks ago, expectations were at an all-time high. Since then, we have faced adversity every step of the way.

A once reliable closer, Frank Francisco has a 10.50 ERA and three loses after six innings. He has blown two saves and has been stripped of his closer duties for the time being. Melky Cabrera, a clutch contributor to the 2009 World Champion Yankees, has struggled with Atlanta, hitting only .135 with two RBIs.

And last night, with his team down 4-3 in the ninth inning and the tying run on second, Hanley Ramirez tragically burst into flames.

I take my fair share of responsibility for the Darling Asteroids' early season struggles. After winning my first game of the season, I pitched terribly against the Diamondbacks and Reds, failing to make it past the sixth in both outings. A 7.07 ERA for me is an all-time high, and hope is at an all-time low.

But make no mistake about it, the Darling Asteroids are strong. Newly acquired Carlos Quentin already has one homerun and two runs scored for us, and the early season additions of Brad Penny and Jon Rauch have been true boons to our pitching staff.

It is in light of these positive developments that I urge all Americans, and all Darling Asteroid fans around the globe, to be patient. I stand before you on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in our nation's capitol to let you know that, like our Founding Fathers, we will prevail. Our backs are against the wall, but we are undeterred. Our confidence remains strong, our determination remains resolute.

We awoke this Sunday morning to a 10-2 lead over the NCSU Sluggers. This should be taken as a sign of progress, that the Asteroids are serious about change and are on the right path for the future.

There are many among us who doubt us, many who stand in our way, many who wish to see us fail. But we are infused with the American spirit, as well as that timeless declaration of will power:

Yes We Can.

When I take the ball this afternoon against the Washington Nationals, it will be with those immortal words in my heart:

Yes We Can.

When the NCSU Sluggers and their robot overlords claim we are too weak, too insignificant to withstand their cyborg armies, we will respond in unison:

Yes We Can.

Good bye, good luck, and may God continue to bless the Darling Asteroids. Thank you.

-Chad Ryan Billingsley
April 25, 2010

Flowers and Germans and Robots, Oh My.

With the Darling Asteroids holding a 7-4 lead over the NCSU Sluggers heading into Friday’s action, the question on everyone’s mind is simple:

How are we going to blow this one?

After all, the NCSU Sluggers team stars Stephen Drew, Ryan Ludwick and Javier “Dead Man Walking” Vazquez. Logic would dictate that coughing up a three point lead in three days to these clowns is extremely hard, even for experienced losers like the Darlings.

We are clearly headed for another 6-6 tie or worse. But how? How could a team as lovable and huggable as this be defeated by the likes of Nick Swisher?

A few theories:

(1) With his team down 4-3 in the ninth and the tying run on second, Hanley Ramirez bursts into flames.

(2) Partying hard on Friday night, Derrek Lee, Bobby Abreu and Jason Kubel fall into a hot tub time machine and wake up in 2005. Lee hits 46 homers, Abreu steals 31 bases and Kubel alters time so that Vladimir Guerrero is never born.

(3) In a bold move, the Mariners move their Opening Day starter and ace Felix Hernandez to the bullpen. This is completely farfetched, I know. Who would do such a thing?

"Hey guys, what are we talking about?"
Nevermind.

The Asteroids made some moves this week in an attempt to shake things up. In our first trade of the year, White Sox closer Bobby Jenks was swapped for White Sox right fielder Carlos Quentin. Hopefully Mr. Quentin can inject a little life into our offense. When trying to break out of a slump, there’s nothing like some new Sox.

I’m so clever it hurts sometimes.

But fear not, fans of mediocre closers. Chad Qualls recently appeared on the waiver wire and we’re doing our best to snatch him up. Doing so would mean dropping Nolan Reimold, who has been a major disappointment thus far. This, I admit, I should have seen coming. First off, he’s a Baltimore Oriole. Secondly, he sounds like the worst Nazi ever.

Auf wiedersehen, Nolan.

A pair of exciting developments could signal a turn of fortunes for the Darlings. Julio Borbón has sprung to life, hitting .375 for the week and swiping a pair of bases. He now owns the most beautiful .146 batting average in all of baseball.

Also, Cubs lefty Ted Lilly is set to make his season debut against Milwaukee on Saturday. Whenever your fate rests in the hands of a man named after a flower, you have to like your chances.

With an offense that is showing signs of life and some shake-ups in the pitching staff, a victory is ripe for the taking. Come on, fellas. We have to win this week. Not just for us…but for all of humanity.

You see, boys, the NCSU Sluggers were autodrafted. Not lovingly selected by a sweet, charming, affable GM like myself (and don't forget humble). Oh, no, the Sluggers were robotically chosen by an emotionless machine, nothing more than crunched numbers and electrical wires.

They do not think. They do not feel. They only wish to destroy.

Pictured: Josh Beckett
In the future, men will do battle with machines for control of the planet. Let’s stop pretending this won’t happen. The only question is, when does it start?

I’ll tell you when it starts. When a ragtag group of millionaires rises up against them, that’s when.

When Placido Polanco and Jon Rauch stand defiantly, brothers in arms, and declare to our would-be robot overlords, “You may take our lives, you may take our liberty, but you will never take Week 3 of the 2010 John Rocker Invitational.”

God speed, and good luck.

Best. Fantasy Team. Ever.

In Field of Dreams, Ray Kinsella pitches to Shoeless Joe Jackson. After a few hacks, Kinsella says, "See if you can hit my curve."

Jackson smirks. "This farmer fella is joking, right?" he appears to be thinking. He smacks Kinsella's curveball right back up the middle, knocking our humbled hayseed on his backside.

So, Ray Kinsella can't strike out Shoeless Joe Jackson. But which baseball movie pitcher could? Would Henry Rowengartner blow three straight fastballs by him? How would Nuke LaLoosh fare against Roy Hobbs? Could Dottie Hinson, the catcher from A League of Their Own, gun down Willie Mays Hayes trying to steal second?

You’re clearly searching for some answers. To help, here’s a Starting Nine of the best baseball movie players of all time. You're welcome.

Left Field: Scotty Smalls, The Sandlot: Offensively, this kid saw one pitch from Heaters and knocked it clear into Old Man James Earl Jones' yard. Defensively, who cares? After every error you get to yell, "You're killin' me, Smalls!" Talk about a good time. Sadly, little Scotty's career never got off the ground and he retired into the broadcast booth. Grab some smores, kid. Everything will be ok.

Center Field: Willie Mays Hayes, Major League: Everything you would want in a centerfielder—great speed, a cocky swagger, and an earth-shatteringly awesome nickname, "Black Hammer."

Look at these credentials for a borderline Hall of Famer: 4x All-Star, 8x Gold Glove winner, World Series champion, Web Gem Machine. Not bad, right? Now add the sweet nickname...boom! We've got a first ballot entrant on our hands.

A real missed opportunity for Jim "Black Hammer" Edmonds.


Stop! Hammer Time.
Right Field: Roy Hobbs, The Natural: Can I tell you a secret? I've never seen The Natural beginning to end. Whoops. But I know Roy Hobbs had a magical bat named Wonderboy, which is the same thing all my ex-girlfriends called me.

Half of that last sentence was a complete lie. Try to guess which half.

Regardless of his age, he can knock the heck out of the ball. He's got some old legs in right field, but if Tony Gwynn can handle it, anyone can. He unfortunately lost the prime of his career after a crazed female fan shot him. The moral, of course, is that women ruin everything.

3B: Roger Dorn, Major League: Boy, oh boy, are the pickings slim for infielders. So we're stuck with a pretty boy third baseman that plays lousy defense, contributes little offensively and has an unmovable contract. Sound familiar?

SS: The nameless Mets shortstop from Rookie of the Year: And you thought third base was bad. But go ahead and think of a better movie shortstop. I dare you.

Judging from that one diving stab he makes to end the Cubs' 8th inning, this gentleman clearly plays excellent defense, which is exactly what you want up the middle. He'll make a great double-play tandem with...

2B: Marla Hooch, A League of Their Own: Poor Marla got beat with the ugly stick but eventually finds true love, which should be a boost of confidence to all homely baseball players out there. (Chin up, Julian Tavarez!) She also has prodigious power for a second basewoman. What a hitter. She was basically Chase Utley before Chase Utley was Chase Utley. But who would you rather take home to Mom and Dad?

Sup?

I thought so.

1B: Benny "The Jet" Rodriguez, The Sandlot: I thought about selecting Albert Pujols for this spot because that man is just not real. In the end, it was the PF Flyers that put Benny over the top.

Catcher: Crash Davis, Bull Durham: A very tough call, since Dottie Hinson of the Rockford Peaches calls a great game and looks better in a skirt (although it's closer than you think). But Crash has everything you want in a catcher: He can handle a pitching staff, is a threat offensively and makes great speeches. Crash is a veteran leader who loves the game and who the rest of the clubhouse will respect. In short, he’s your team captain.

Starting pitcher: Steve Nebraska, The Scout: A starting rotation of Nebraska, Rowengartner, Heaters, LaLoosh and Charlie Brown is downright terrifying, even if it's completely right-handed. Screw you, stat nerds. This team is awesome.

But the battle for the Opening Day start came down to Nebraska and Rowengartner. Nebraska hits 100 MPH every time and is also an incredible hitter, a bonus since this pretend baseball team plays in the National League, the home of real, pure baseball as God intended, which is superior in every way to the American League except when it comes to actually playing baseball.

Sorry, Henry. We just can't take Steve's bat out of this lineup. You're also coming off shoulder surgery, which is always dicey. Plus I'm a little worried you'll lose focus once you hit puberty and discover your body.

Closer: Ricky Vaughn, Major League: A 100+ MPH fastball and killer entrance music. Done and done.

Manager: Jimmy Dugan, A League of Their Own: He swears. He drinks. He smokes. He swears some more. He screams at his players.

You're the best, Jim Leyland. Don't ever change.

Workin' on a Dream

A few Thursdays ago I went to trivia night at a local bar. Before we started I said to my teammates, "Hey guys, what are your areas of expertise? Mine are baseball, professional wrestling and New Jersey." This, I would realize two hours later, is what they refer to in the literary community as foreshadowing. Or perhaps it was irony? Or even worse...ironic foreshadowing.

Oh, dear.

Fast-forward to the final round. We're tied for first. The drama builds. The emcee asks the question, and it's about Mr. Bruce Springsteen, only the favorite son of my home state. This should be easy. I'm going to get this question super right and be a hero. Everyone's going to love me. What a great night.

Nope.

Here's the moral of the story: I'm a choke artist. And in the same way pet owners start to resemble their pets, I fear the Darling Asteroids are beginning to mimic their GM's crunch time failings.

"I'm not mad, Jacob, I'm just disappointed."
The Asteroids were nursing a comfortable 8-4 lead over Joba Rules heading into the weekend. They were nursing a slightly-less-comfortable-but-we-still-shouldn't-blow-it 7-5 lead heading into Sunday. So what happened? In no particular order:

(1) Kevin Millwood notches nine strikeouts for Joba Rules on Friday night. Kevin Millwood is still alive?! I know, I was as surprised as you.

(2) Tim Lincecum goes all Tim Lincecum on the Dodgers, striking out seven and earning the win. He's now 3-0 with a .90 ERA. He also went 3-for-4 with 3 RBIs in that game. Those stats don't count for pitchers, but still. Felt like salt in the fantasy wound. I hate you, Tim Lincecum.

(3) Julio Borbon lives up to his name, going 0-for-7 for the weekend before being benched Sunday and looking like he's swigging Grandpa's cough medicine before every game. He's hitting .083 with as many homeruns as you and me combined. You're the best, Julio. Don't ever change.

(4) Matt Kemp and Evan Longoria continue to be perfect in every way, but even they can't offset the pure sucktitude of Melky Cabrera. Who would have ever thought a guy who spent his whole career as a Yankee with a great Latino fanbase would have trouble adapting to playing in the deep South of Georgia all by himself? He's hitting .119 and looks terrified every night.

In conclusion, the Darling Asteroids and Joba Rules tied 6-6. That's right, two straight ties to open the season. It's a wonderful feeling to know that the Asteroids are exactly as good and as bad as every other team out there. Mediocrity is our motto. Being average is our badge of honor.

But there is some hope on the horizon. Alexei Ramirez, no doubt inspired by a certain blogger's kind words, has six hits in his last four games. The Cuban Missile is ready to launch!

(See what I did there? When I made that play on words with Ramirez's nickname and "launch"? Did you catch it? Ok, just checking)

Also, this guy still exists...

Does this joke ever get old? I say no.
Perhaps in the future the Asteroids might even win a series. Maybe 7-5, maybe even 8-4. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. This week we do battle with Alex Sheppard and the NCSU Sluggers, currently in tenth place and starring Curtis Granderson, Chipper Jones and Joakim Soria. Alex wasn't there for the draft, which explains why he also has Martin Prado and Nick Swisher.

There's a darkness on the edge of town, and the Asteroids have been hiding on the backstreets. Spent the whole season waiting for a moment that just don't come. But no more, Asteroids! Show a little faith, there's magic in the night. Tramps like us, babies we were born to run. Here come the glory days. After all, we were born in the USA.

Except for Melky Cabrera. He ruins everything.