Desultory Thoughts of a Longfellow

Baseball(s) and everything else.

Sonny, 9/21/2008 – 6/9/2014

Note: Obviously, there’s quite a bit of dust on this blog, but that’s what happens when you become a lead editor and content manager for a fantasy sports site. Everything I want to say, I say over there. Everything else? Well, there’s just not enough time. For this post, I made time.

The truth is, I never was a ‘dog person’. I never understood the goofy noises owners would make at their dogs. I never understood all the money they spent. And I never understood why any person would turn their lives upside down to accommodate an animal.

Until Sonny.

I remember when I first met her. Just on a whim, one day, I decided to check-out a newly formed litter. Out of the eight that were released from behind the fence, only one approached me. Her ferocious curiosity won me over. You could say she chose me.

Straight out of Pavlov’s handbook, when I first brought her home, I would take her paw and ring a bell at the door before we went for a walk to do her business. A few weeks later, much to my delight, she rang the bell herself to use the restroom. I was proud. A few weeks after that, she rang the bell, but not to go to the bathroom, but to go play outside. She had figured it all out, and now used the bell on me. I was even prouder.

There was many a time when she would bring a toy over and lay it in my lap. Sometimes, I just didn’t want to play. Her response? She would grab the toy from my lap, walk it over to the corner of the room, and dump it in the trash can. As if that didn’t convey her sassiness enough, she also had the added pleasure of walking to the opposite side of the room and lay down, her back facing me. The cutest disdain ever recorded.

Every person she met, it was with a large volume of barks, but no one was fooled… The licks and wagging tail betrayed the fact that she was a lover. Definitely not a fighter.

She loved kimchi. She loved peanut butter. Often both at the same time. And, of course, bacon. (Who doesn’t?)

Sonny was diagnosed with congestive heart failure, and at the time, her prognosis was devastating; anywhere from a week to three months was the general survival window… if I was lucky. That day was one year-and-a-half ago. And today was her last.

I won’t pretend to fit her entire lifetime into one cathartic and unworthy post. Just hopefully a few words that can try and convey what she meant to me.

I never understood why people did what they did for their dogs. Today, I know I won’t ever forget.

Sonny, I love ya. Thanks for stopping by for a bit. It meant… the world to me.

 

IMAG1424

 

The Long Off-Season Soon Endeth. I Thinketh.

So, time to get the dust off this blog and get to work. Maybe.

Yeah, there’s been some time in-between posts. The thing is, I’m wired in the way that my mind turns-on ‘write-mode’ in-and-around the start of the Major League Baseball Season.

You might ask me why I don’t write during the football season, and my simple reply to that is– I’m way too drunk. OR, I’m watching way too much porn. OR, I’m building an armoire. OR, all of those things at the same time. What can I say? The brightest flame burns twice as fast. Something like that.

Anyhow, consider this an opening of the gates. My gates. Which sounds sexual. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

More content shall follow. Probably, for sure. Maybe.

The Sound A Plouffe Makes

I have to say, I have a fun surname. It’s simple. Rolls off the tongue. And yeah, there’s always that sexual innuendo. You knew it was going there.

You should have seen that coming.

HAR HAR HAR.

I also have to say, Trevor Plouffe has an equally fun surname. And while it is not as simple, despite being one less syllable, I can proclaim that Plouffe does in fact roll off the tongue just as easily. Perhaps even more easily than Longfellow. And there’s a sandbox mode here to which you can Plouffe anything.

See what I just did there?

But, I can’t just make a superfluous post with just a whole bunch of ‘Plouffe’s’ copy-and-pasted and then call it a day. Well, I mean, I can. Actually, that might be a fun idea. What I’m saying is, I would rather have a reason to go Plouffe all over your face. (That’s another 3 points.)

And, so, I give you the Plouffeness in all his glory…

Plouffe goes the dynamite! I’m here all night folks.

If you haven’t already, you should say ‘Plouffe’, drawn out, in a high-pitched manner while watching this pretty amazing catch.

Why?

Because that’s the sound a Plouffe makes.

A Day In The Life of A Dugout Phone

The life of a dugout phone is not a hard one. In fact, if it were possible, I wouldn’t mind living the life of a dugout phone.

What’s not to like?

You get to watch 81 games a year with the best seat in the house. You get to hear all the ‘baseball guy’ banter. Unlimited sunflower seeds and Gatorade. Sure, you do get touched by the manager, like a lot. But if you really love baseball, you’re not that far off really loooooving baseball, so I’m sure that feel is something that could be adapted as a positive. I mean, hey, sometimes we all need a gentle grab n’ hold. Amiright?

Hunh?

Anyhow, if you were to ask me a day before yesterday if living the life of a dugout phone was something I would be interested in, I might smile a bit and then nod gently. Because a day before yesterday, this did not happen.

It all started with David Ortiz, Big Papi as he’s referred to, taking what looked to be ball four.

To the umpire, Tim Timmons, that obviously was not a ball. To David Ortiz and to the viewer, that obviously was a ball. But unfortunately, only one of us has the final say.

“THERE WAS A FIRE FIGHT!”

David Ortiz taught me something yesterday. Actually, he taught me two things.

1) David Ortiz is a very big man with a bat, who I would rather not anger.

2) I no longer wish to spend a day as a dugout phone.

Please also note, based on the fallout, I don’t want to be Dustin Pedroia either.

Haiku- Smoak You

Smoak You

Justin Smoak, really?

These homeruns make me feel like…

You’re fucking with me.

Mixes- Fanta Grape

Fanta Grape

Info: 19 songs, 1.1 hours. Inspiration: A person I knew. Genre: Indie Rock. Youtube Playlist: Click Here.

1. Knock Knock, The Accidental

2. Green Shirt, Elvis Costello & the Attractions

3. Signs, Bloc Party

4. Can You Tell, Ra Ra Riot

5. The Twist, Frightened Rabbit

6. Middle Cyclone, Neko Case

7. An Introspective Personality, Ryan Lindsey

8. Around The Bend, The Asteroids Galaxy Tour

9. Boats And Birds, Gregory And The Hawk

10. Dice, Finley Quaye

11. My Absent Will, Meredith Bragg

12. Love Play, School of Seven Bells

13. Fresh Feeling, Eels

14. Challengers, The New Pornographers

15. Airplanes, Local Natives

16. Cities Burning Down, Howling Bells

17. Buildings & Mountains, The Republic Tigers

18. Sleepdriving, Grand Archives

19. Signed I Wish You Well, Helios

Victor Martinez Plays Defense?

Ron Burgundy question mark is always a good question mark. No one can deny this.

Victor Martinez  is not having a good year. No one can deny this either.

In 73 games and 305 plate appearances, he is hitting 227/285/337. Darwin Barney, in about the same span, is hitting 230/293/350. But, to my best recollection, Darwin Barney has never done this:

That is Victor Martinez, a former catcher, and most likely a former hitter… making one gnarly play. Like everything else stated above, this also cannot be denied.

Haiku- Ryu Hyun-jin, I Might Need Therapy

Ryu Hyun-jin, I Might Need Therapy 

We’re both Korean,

Let’s make kimchee together,

I’m really lonely.

Haiku- Your Last Name Should Just Be ‘S’

Your Last Name Should Just Be ‘S’

Hey, Eric Hosmer

Please hit more than two homeruns

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

One of the Better Catches I Have Ever Seen

Last night, Will Venable, in a 13-inning game against the Giants, went 1 for 7 including two strikeouts with a lonely single being his only hit. Oh, yeah, he also did this…

With two outs and Brandon Belt standing on second in the 12th, Juan Perez drove the ball deep to center off of pitcher Nick Vincent. Venable, after landing face-first in the dirt, got a standing ovation from a Giants crowd that had already stood up from their seats from what they had thought was a sure-thing, walk-off victory.

The amount of time Venable took to cover roughly 30 yards is about the same amount of time it takes me to get up from my chair.

One last thing. After starting the year 5-15, the Padres are now 36-34 after last night’s win. They are just one game back from first place in the NL West. Hunh?

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