CDTF is back. My sincere apologies for the absence (I had what felt like swine flu and about sixteen court hearings over the past two weeks). What better way to kick things off than to talk about a few of my favorite things? Baseball, scandals, Ryan Braun, and his penis.
When I saw that Ryan Braun had tested positive for PEDs, I almost lost it. Please. I wasn’t shocked or anything. I was angry. I wish I could say that I was angry because he is a fraud or, worse, may have cheated. Nope. I do not have sound morals, let’s be serious. I was irate because my new favorite player, the MVP of Joe Girardi’s Braces – the SOLE reason I lobbied for a keeper league all season – could be sitting out for 50 games. I mean, good god, he was a fantasy baseball wet dream. Homers, steals, hits, total bases, RBIs, walks, batting average, he has it all. After I got over my initial rage, my first thought was: would you keep/draft him anyway? (Yes). My second thought was: hopefully, the lord told Adrian Gonzalez to take steroids, too.
For what it’s worth, Braun has strenuously denied using PEDs. In fact, this whole scandal may just be the result of his dirty, dirty penis. There are rumors swirling around that my MVP has HPV, i.e. herpes. He apparently tested positive for it, and the medication he was prescribed caused his testosterone levels to shoot through the roof. This could explain Braun’s silence on the matter; his attorneys plan to vigorously pursue the person who leaked the story under a violation of his HIPAA rights. This could also explain why my team tanked the final week of the season after going undefeated; our entire virtual clubhouse was infected with fucking herpes.
I guess this sort of makes sense. Braun’s stats last season did not significantly differ from the rest of his career. His body didn’t morph into the Incredible Hulk. He did not fail any other drug test throughout the year. Maybe that is wishful thinking. But really? If he doesn’t have herpes, this is the worst smoke-and-mirrors act ever. Why would members of the Brewers organization leak such an embarrassing excuse as the cover-up? Maybe he just smelled really “putrid”? One way or the other, Ryan Braun’s reputation took a serious hit. Either he is guilty of using PEDs and cheating, thereby tainting his career forever. Or his love life just plummeted. As sexy as NL MVP sounds, HPV for life is sort of a deal-breaker.
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Well, now that we got our feet wet again, let’s touch upon a few other random thoughts to catch us up on the past two weeks:
Dear Derek Jeter: I am still waiting for my swag basket.
Dear David Stern: What the hell? No, really. What the hell happened with that Chris Paul trade? This is worse than when you gifted Patrick Ewing to the Knicks. I used to adore your cartoonish emperor act, but that was before you blatantly colluded during the eleventh hour and changed the course of basketball history with one bold, and perhaps unlawful, stroke of madness. Wouldn’t your efforts be better spent convincing Ron Artest that “Metta World Peace” is really fucking stupid? I guess I am kind of excited to watch Chris Paul dish to Blake Griffin all game-packed season. And, you’re right, it’s hard to feel badly for Kobe Bryant, even if he hit the Trifecta of Terrible: a rejected trade of the best point guard in the league, a divorce (without a prenup), and a torn wrist ligament. Nevertheless, I really want to know what happened with Chris Paul. We need another Zapruder film.
Leo Nunez Update: The fraudulent and former closer for the Marlins, who I extensively wrote about in October, will not be prosecuted for his fictitious documents and identity fraud. It also seems that Nunez will receive a fair shake from the Miami money tree that the Marlins discovered while he was stuck in the Dominican Republic; even though they signed Heath Bell, they are still going to tender him a contract.
Can’t Spell Price without the Pee: Someone peed on David Price’s car. That is all.
Auto-tuned Awesomeness: After having an orgasm over Tim Tebow, Skip Bayliss was appropriately immortalized and auto-tuned. This, quite frankly, is amazing:
The Sports Tax: Check out this really interesting piece from the New York Times, which explains how the exorbitant price of sports is covertly worked into your cable bill. You’re paying for it, whether you watch games on television or not. So I guess this is just an excuse to watch more sports. I am unshockingly cool with it.
Baseball Wives: While scrolling through the channels a few weeks ago, I discovered a new show on VH1 called Baseball Wives. I was going in blind. I had not read or heard anything about it, which I assumed would be awesomely awful, but I was intrigued. Real Housewives meets The Franchise? I mean, sign me up. I had this idea of doing a regular CDTF recap. And I tried to watch it, I really did. That said, the very first thing I learned upon watching the show is that it should not be called Baseball Wives, since not one cast member is currently married to a baseball player who still plays baseball. A more accurate title would have been Baseball Bitches or Baseball Wannabe Wives, Clingy Ex-Girlfriends, and Bitter Exes or, like, Six Degrees of Eric Gagne. Had the show been named any of those things, I still would have tried to watch it. Judge me accordingly. Nevertheless, this was my initial impression:
First, we are introduced to Jordana Lenz, the only one of these women who has never been married in any capacity to a baseball player. She is just the crazy ex-girlfriend of crazy-ass outfielder Nyjer Morgan. Jordana stands alone on a train platform, babbling bittersweet words of batshit crazy into her phone; she is leaving a message for Nyjer, who broke up with her “sometime in 2010.” I am pretty sure this is a ploy to establish some sort of credibility for Jordana that: 1) she actually knows Nyjer Morgan or at least stole his phone number from someone, and 2) she can speak as a baseball wife, even though she is a baseball girlfriend, even though she is not even that, but simply an ex-girlfriend. You may think, “oh, 2010 wasn’t too long ago, she totally understands how it feels to be a baseball wife.” And then you may remember that Nyjer Morgan did not a play a full season in the Majors until 2009. Her one-year of knowledge is like a vast ocean of lemon-lime Gatorade. The first segment ends with her telling us that she is “struggling to move on.” I want to shed a tear for sad Jordana, clearly the Eeyore of the group, but instead I am left thinking that perhaps I can audition for this show next season. I once hooked up with the brother of a girl on my high school softball team who got a letter of interest from the Yankees. That is not much different from Jordana’s situation. I want in. (Actually, I want out. I am not sure I am going to make it through this show).
And I didn’t. It was that bad. I tried to get through Brooke Villone. But when she said that most other women are “capital-J jealous” of her beauty, I realized that the jury was still out on her capital-B brains. I was also convinced she was getting some on the side. Regardless, I could no longer subject myself to such absurdity. And that is coming from someone who still watches Gossip Girl and the (horrendous) new 90210.
Minor Leaguer Pretends to Be Agent, Sells MLB Player to Australia: This is incredibly ballsy and sort of awesome. And I can’t help but be amused that it’s connected to the Yankees.
Okay guys, I am off to work (where I have a new computer that I am somewhat excited to play with today). But please check back tomorrow. I’m in the middle of planning Batting Practice Bitches, as well as a lengthy piece on Sandusky, Fine, Conlin, and that disgusting AAU molester. Until then, have a kickass Thursday.