Showing posts with label delmon young. Show all posts
Showing posts with label delmon young. Show all posts

Thursday, July 5, 2007

GAME EIGHTY THREE: Mmmm...cupcakes.



(Preliminary notes: a) I've fucked up the game numbers before now, if you care. I'll try not to do that again. b) Have you voted for Okajima yet?)

Tampa Bay is not the chump team they once were. Carl Crawford reached 900 hits before his 26th birthday with three hits yesterday; B.J. Upton's bat was never in question, and now he's found a position, enjoyable as it was to watch him play SS in a Jose Offerman/Gary Sheffield sort of way. Delmon Young has not threatened any umpires' lives in the majors. (Looking over that old clip, though, at least you can't question Delmon's eye...it was waaay outside.) James Shields could be the genuine article; Scott Kazmir could be too, if he controls the strike zone and stops regularly throwing 100 pitches in four innings. And Al Reyes serves a valuable service to us all, reminding us of how useless the Save is as a statistic. Not that I mean to insult ya, pal. You know me, Al.

So Tampa Bay are up-and-comers, and that's not the euphemism it once was in speaking of this moribund franchise. A "developing country" as opposed to an undeveloped country that falls under the same label. As long gone Rays GM Chuck LaMar put it, "The only thing that keeps this organization from being recognized as one of the finest in baseball is wins and losses at the major-league level." (Chortles.)



For 14 more dates with Tampa (yup, 14; I too didn't notice we'd yet to play them this year), the Sox get to dine on sweet, sweet cupcakes, and they aren't even pretentiously flavored and overpriced. Or so I hope. Never underestimate a team with young talent and a Gene Hackman doppleganger manager.

But you know what thinking of the Delmon Young bat incident makes me think fondly of? Izzy Alcantara. And to think, the Sox thought Hanley Ramirez had an attitude problem:

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Delmon Young had a dream.



And now, as promised, something funny. I wrote this for a girl I met once who works here, who claimed Comedy Central connections and told me to write some webisodes. I haven't found her since. Your gain, their loss. And my bank account's loss, I guess. Whatever.

Oh, the inspiration came from a real quote. Guess what.


The Tampa Bay Devil Rays’ clubhouse, pregame. Devil Rays manager JOE MADDON is talking to outfielder DELMON YOUNG, who clutches a bat, angry.

MADDON
It’s just a slump, Delmon.

YOUNG
It’s the most frustrating thing, skip. The swing has been there, you know? I’ve been swinging the bat real good. Hell, if there wasn't nine guys out in the field, I'd have a hit every time. Except when I strike out.

MADDON (amused)
Well yeah, that’s obvious.

YOUNG
How d’you figure?

Beat. Maddon, not sure how to respond, pats Young on the shoulder, walks away.

YOUNG (laying his head back)
Yeah. If it wasn’t for those nine guys I’d have a hit every time. (drifting to sleep) A hit every time…every time…every time…

Cut to the baseball field, inside Delmon Young’s dream; it looks like a baseball game on TV. Young is at the plate against a Toronto Blue Jays pitcher. We hear a radio announcer, and the action unfolds just as he calls it.

ANNOUNCER
Up steps Delmon Young. Here’s the pitch.

Young hits a hard fly ball to center field. Toronto centerfielder VERNON WELLS ranges back.

ANNOUNCER
This one has a chance. Way back! Way back! Wells is at the wall, he might bring this in!

Wells jumps up, but before he can make an amazing catch, he vanishes into thin air. The ball goes over the wall.

ANNOUNCER
Gone! Home run!

Quick montage of at-bats, possibly to “You Got The Touch” from Transformers: The Movie, or something equally awesome yet inspiring song.

1. Young hits a hot ground ball to short. SHORTSTOP dives for the ball, comes up with it, but as he’s about to throw to first, he vanishes; the ball and glove fall to the ground, Young is safe at first.

2. Young bunts down the first base line. Ball is about to go foul, but before the UMPIRE can call it foul, Young waves his arms in the air; UMPIRE vanishes, Young is safe at first.

Music stops. Delmon Young at the plate. His statistics briefly flash on the bottom of the screen: he’s batting 1.000 with 85 home runs and 500 RBIs.

ANNOUNCER
Oh, what a game! Bases juiced, bottom of the 9th, D’Rays down by three, and up steps Delmon Young. Here’s the pitch.

Young barely hits the ball. Rest goes exactly as announcer says.

ANNOUNCER
A weak groundball back to the pitcher, but wait, what’s this? Yes, the pitcher has vanished! The pitcher has dissipated into the moist Tampa Bay air, oh, doctor! One run scores, two runs score, three runs score, and in comes Delmon Young! D’Rays win! D’Rays win!

We hear the crowd chanting M-V-P! M-V-P! as the dream fades. Back to a sleeping Delmon Young in the clubhouse, with Joe Maddon hovering over him.

MADDON
Delmon. Delmon.

YOUNG (mumbling in his sleep)
M-V-P. M-V-P. M-V…

MADDON
Delmon!

Young wakes with a start.

MADDON
It’s game time, Delmon.

Beat.

YOUNG
Scratch me.

Young closes his eyes. Maddon shrugs, erases his name from the lineup card, walks off

YOUNG (closing his eyes)
Batting title, here I come.

End.

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