Monday, May 24, 2010


A couple things:

First is an excerpt from my latest "Suitcase Chronicles" entry, entitled "Now an Outsider:"

The game halts not for the retirement of greats, and definitely gives no pause to the passing of a minor league blip. Each generation it gobbles new bodies, this spinning black hole. My baseball life is mere debris, cast aside as waste, scattered in the same bin as a thousand others.

But I don't miss spinning within the black hole's grasp.

Read the rest here:

Next is an interview with David Laurila of Baseball Prospectus in his "Minor Issues" column, in which I talk about the language of baseball:

But aside from curse words, other words infiltrate as well. In fact, certain Spanish words become part of everyone's lingo, since Latinos are such a large part of the game. A change-up becomes a "cambio," a line drive a "linea," and a glove a "guante." And then, of course, their are the Spanish curse words, which everyone quickly mixes in--mierda, cono, get the point.

The rest:

And finally, a random article about genes and sports. It's a really long read from David Epstein in Sports Illustrated, but it was perhaps the best thing I read all week:

I'll write more soon!!

I might even write about baseball and Pearl Jam next. Not sure how those two topics will mix. Hmm...


Tully said...


I loved your take on the language of baseball. I can relate from my three years in the Army. When I got home, I had a mouth fouler than a Scorcese movie, and the F-Word was my go-to adjective for anything and everything. It was nearly impossible to control for a couple of years and not soon enough to stop me from cursing up a storm in the presence of my shocked and disturbed grandmother or my young nieces and nephew. I tried to explain how the language of the military, especially enlisted men, is an almost foreign brand of English, and if you fail to bolster yourself, you'll find it impossible to keep the vulgarity out of your daily speech. To this day, I have to turn a chip on inside of my head to avoid the curse words when I'm in more decent company, and on more than one occasion, I've lapsed at the most inappropriate times and in the presence of people who should never hear such nastiness.

Thanks for the good laugh!

Bill Bird said...

What a great F'ing blog this is! I was good enough to play exactly one season of organized ball -- but by age 11 -- my career was over. Today? I drink for a living. Plus, I grow heirloom tomatoes. Which mix quite well with gin. I could go on -- but you're more than bored silly now. Love the insights. Keep it up!


Garrett said...

Lol (after reading both of these comments). Glad to bring back memories Tully. What's wrong with teaching your niece and nephew a few new curse words? They're just words. Harmless little four letter words.

And Bill--just planted my little tomato plants yesterday. Guess that's life outside of the minors.

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