I was reviewing some of our site statistics, which I honestly haven’t really done in a few years, and I noticed that for the month of September, 2019 one of our most popular articles is one that I wrote 4 years ago. How could this possibly be I thought to myself. Then I review our most popular search term. I then popped over to my local Google.com box and typed in the corresponding search term.
I am so proud to have left my mark on baseball blogging history.
The best part? Manny Machado was only mentioned in the article due to his run in with our old site mascot Jonathan Papelbon. While he had the incident in Oakland at that time, he hadn’t really begun to reach asshole status yet!
This article has caused me to reflect a little bit, and sadly it seems like we have fewer and fewer real honest to goodness assholes left in baseball. I mean, sadly, Joe West is still running around the league, and there’s a few other umpires you could easily add to the list. Manny Machado has more than earned his asshole reputation despite having a pretty quiet 2019. Bryce Harper seems to have settled down a little. There’s Miguel Cabrera, although you’d be forgiven for forgetting he was still in the league. Aroldis Chapman has kept his head down since moving to New York. Derek Jeter has seemingly gotten worse since taking over in Miami. Madison Bumgarner is still a pretty big dickhead. Matt Harvey is all but out of baseball at this point.
Come to think of it, 2019 was a really tame year for beefs. I can’t recall any major brew-ha-has or over the top beefs. There’s been relatively little on or off the field drama this year.
Hopefully next year will be better.
Fan Interference 
Congrats on the achievement, Scouts. I pulled up the subject article and had a bit of nostalgia seeing the names of old friends that commented, wish they still stopped by. The one douche bag moment that pops to mind immediately for me was Verlander banning the Free Press writer from the Astros locker room. Mild by most standards, but like you said, it’s been a quiet year.
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I can bitch about Dublin Airport. It’s a third world armpit to rival Banana Republic International itself. This has nothing to do with baseball, of course….the Rugby World Cup has most of the local pub big screen videos tied up. But last night, trying modestly to get to London, I had two flights in a row cancelled out from under me – one (supposedly) for weather, the other for a stuck emergency exit door. British Airways, after fumbling around like Charlie Chaplin trying to stand up on a floor covered with marbles, finally found us a hotel 90 KM away on the Northern Irish border (about 50 minutes each way) because Dublin hotels are swollen with an international fiber optics conference. These travails have for the short term obfuscated what a fine couple of days of meetings I had here before last night’s utter fiasco. So it goes.
So here I am at 7:30 AM back at Bloomsday Field wiating yet again to take my measely one hour flight to Heathrow. I was lucky to find a computer table with one of four working electrical outlets out of twelve. So it goes.
What follows are three days worth of confabulated commentaries on the Feesh while I waited to find a hotspot that wouldn’t keep dropping me every time I tried to post something. Ready?
By clipping the Nationals 5-3 yesterday and the Mets 8-4 tonight, the Feesh have won back-to-back games for the first time since July 28-29 vs. Arizona. They’d gone 51 games since their last spasm of consecutive victories. They lost last night, though, 5-4 to hit 102 zetzes. Even so, the previous night’s victory has been pronounced fatal to the mathematically as yet uneliminated Mutts, but….Wel-l-l, I think the Mutts kinda dealt themselves out already….but I did have fun watching the recap videos this morning (GMT-1). The Rugby World Cub is going on over here at the moment and the pubs are full of marinated, yowling Celts responding Pavlovianly to cluttered blurs on big screens. The noise and vibration makes it difficult to balance my peas on a butterknife flatside but, like the Feesh, one perseveres. The trick is to keep the puckered surface down. The cabbage, thank Buddha, generally stays where it’s put.
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