Showing posts with label Johnson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Johnson. Show all posts

Monday, January 8

Rites of Passage, Lefts of Passage

It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO THE HOT STOVE.

1. In our society, as in every other, there are rites of passage, key points that mark major achievements or moments of transition in one’s life. Some are complex ceremonies marking specific accomplishments. A bar mitzvah marks the transition to adulthood as expressed in religious participation. First communion marks arrival at an age where one can choose salvation. Graduation marks the paying of tuition on time and not drinking oneself out of college. Other rites of passage are quieter, without formal pomp yet pregnant with a quiet importance: getting a driver’s license, signing a draft card, casting a first vote, attending a first Red Sox game. And yet there are other rites of passage that lack the ceremonial significance of a graduation and the silent dignity of pledging to kill and die for one’s country if called upon. It is a passage in this third category that Jose has made today. Yes, Jose’s soul is calm with solemnity, his chest expanded with pride… today Jose got his first subpoena.

Now, Jose does not want you, the little people, his faithful readers, to worry that he is going to think he’s better then you just because he has been subpoenaed and you have not. Sure, important government officials, after careful study, have determined that Jose may have information so critical, so important that it could take away a man’s freedom or his money, but that does not mean that Jose is any better than you. No, he is not better, just more important.

And so Jose will share something with you. Because most of you will never be important enough to be subpoenaed, Jose, from his experientially advanced positions will tell you what it’s like.

Being subpoenaed is a little like having a line drive hit directly at you. It is exciting, it makes one feel special and it is potentially dangerous, if one is not careful. Jose doesn’t know yet, but he expects the aftermath is comparable too. In both cases only two things can happen, either everything goes back to normal or one ends up facing serious bills for professional services. (note: legal or medical).

For those of you who are concerned about what Jose has gotten himself into, allow him to reassure you. Jose is not in any kind of trouble, yet he feels that it is best not to offer any specifics until the process is over. He will let you know this much, however. He has not been called in as a character witness against Karim Garcia from his bullpen brawl of some years back. He will not comment on whether it has anything to do with Ugueth Urbina’s machete incident.

2. Jose was originally going to fill this key with all kind of quipy headlines about Randy Johnson’s departure from New York. But then Jose thought better of it and realized that Jose’s readers are sophisticated, worldly sorts. The kind of folks who would get little pleasure from a series of one-liners like “Yanks No Longer Randy, Yet Still Unsatisfied” and other puns concerning states of sexual arousal and male genitalia and, as a last resort, tall jokes.

Instead, Jose will offer some keen analysis on what the Yankees get from this deal. Unfortunately it looks good for the pinstriped pea brains. First, it instantly makes their locker room less ugly. Second, in minor leaguer Alberto Gonzales they pick up a sitting Attorney General who has authorized the use of torture. You know, Steinbrenner has longed for the authority to waterboard for decades (note: how many times did he express a desire to strip Dave Winfield naked and point at his genitals?), and now he has it. A-Rod should be feeling very, very uncomfortable. Third, the Yankees pick up another quality relief arm in Jose Vizcaino and a promising your arm in Ross Ohlendorf. Finally, the acquisition of minor leaguer pitcher Steven Jackson gives the Yankees a prospect who, in addition to having a mean streak, a nasty three point shot, and gun charges pending against him, is also the owner of the role playing game company which produces Car Wars, which is a lot of fun if you are a nerd. Though on the downside, when all of the Yankees are in the clubhouse pregame rolling die to determine whether their turreted recoilless rifles have inflicted any damage on the Killer Kart opposite them during their autoduel at Double Drum in Waco Texas, Jose strongly suspects that everyone will gang up on A-Rod and spray his make-believe car with machine gun fire and flechettes.

Between the torture and the role playing games, it looks like a good trade for the Yankees and a bad trade for Alex Rodriguez.

3. Last week, the Red Sox signed former Mariner’s starter Jor-El Piniero to a $4 million, one-year deal, with the hope that he could be converted into a closer. There’s been a lot of skepticism about this move, but let Jose go on record as saying he loves this deal. Loves it!

Sure his ERA has gone up in every year since 2001. Yes, his K-Rate is way down, and his performance has never really recovered since he suffered an elbow injury. But, if you want to focus on all of these sabermetricy, moneyball, statistical stuff, you aren’t really getting the full picture. Let’s look at the facts:

FACT: The guy is Superman’s father
FACT: He will be the first Red Sox ever to be played in a film by Marlon Brando, though Brando has been rumored as a potential lead in “The El Guapo Story.” (Note: Much like Rich Garces, just because no one’s seen Brando for a while, it doesn’t mean he’s dead.)
FACT: As long as the sun doesn’t turn red, it’s a good bet that he’ll recover from his injuries.

So why shouldn’t the Sox take a chance on him. Would you take a chance on a pitcher named Peter Parker? Or Bruce Banner? Of course you would. In fact the Red Sox can sign any comic book character they want as a closer and Jose will be happy. Unless, it’s Matt Murdoch. Daredevil sucks.













It's like Jose's seeing double
.


I’m Jose Melendez, and those are my KEYS TO THE HOT STOVE.

Thursday, December 28

Wheeling and Dealing

THE 2006 KEYS BOOK: THE PERFECT BAYRAM PRESENT FOR MUSLIM FRIENDS, IF THEY DO PRESENTS FOR BAYRAM, JOSE ISN'T SURE
It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO THE HOT STOVE.

1. It was a few strokes before four when the wheeler dealer rolled into town, poised, cocky and with an almost disdainful indifference to the fact that he was playing with the real lives of real people. He sat down across from Jose, and deigned not even to look at him, lest he portray any sign of weakness. With a shock of hair red as the fires of hell, he was the sort of dealmaker who demanded attention, even as one desperately tried to keep his focus elsewhere.

He surveyed Jose’s office for a moment, before spying a mélange of coreboard pie charts in the corner, and dismissing Jose’s work, his livelihood, with a contemptuous “What’s that?”

Then the time for positioning, for the subtle pre-deal maneuvering of a negotiator unfamiliar with “Getting to Yes” was over, and it was time to get down to business. Nonchalantly, almost carelessly, he tossed the merchandise onto Jose’s desk. THUD. There was Bruce Hurst. Here’s Rob Murphy. And over there, we’ve got Tim VanEgmmond. Fifty Sox cards acquired for $10, and each and everyone available to interested clients… for a price.

But Jose is no one’s fool, not some sucker to be rolled. And he would not be the mark for this particular P.T. Barnum. He immediately set about deriding the merchandise.

“Bob Stanley? Jose gets an ulcer just looking at him. And Luis Rivera? Never trust a shortstop with glasses.”

But then came a problem… and an opportunity. As the wheeler dealer flipped over a Mike Greenwell card, sending it crashing into the adjacent Ellis Burks card, there it was. Jose Melendez Leaf Card 1993. There was Jose, slim and sexy, his arm cocked and ready to unleash a fastball on an unsuspecting batter. On the opposite side, a defiant Jose sneered as he delivered a pitch before an image of the Old State House and One Exchange Place.

Jose tried to control his emotions, to keep his tells under lock and key, lest the slightest show of weakness drive up the price. But this was a Jose Melendez Red Sox card. Jose had a San Diego card, but not one of Jose in his Boston red and blues.

“Jose will give you a dollar for it,” he blurted out, already negotiating against himself like Tom Hicks on greenies.

“No,” replied the wheeler-dealer cagily, betraying nothing.

“You should just give it to him,” replied an advisor who went by the pseudonym Uncle Mark. “It’s his nom de blog.”
But no misuse of French by a trusted consigliore would dissuade the wheeler dealer, he remained resolute.

Then Jose had an idea.

“We’ll do business in the old style,” said Jose without emotion. “We will trade. Jose will go home tonight and retrieve a superior card from his private, vintage collection. Tomorrow he will bring it in and exchange it for the Melendez card. We can run the deal through one of your people. Perhaps the one you call ‘Mom.’”

“Uuuhhhhhhhh,” he was biding his time, using verbal clutter as a tool to thwart Jose, to give himself time to contemplate the deal before him. “Uh, no.”

He was tough; Jose would give him that.

“Then Jose has one final offer. He will trade you another card or give you a dollar. Choose.”

And then Jose saw it. The faintest glimmer of doubt. The slightest trembling of hand. He was going to blink.

“The dollar,” he said, hesitantly at first, but then enthusiastically, as if it had all been a feint designed to lure Jose into overpaying.

Jose coughed up the green, the wheeler dealer offered up the card and the transaction was complete. Jose had what he wanted, a symbol in paper of his past, of the man he had always wanted to be, and the wheeler dealer had what he wanted, a dollar he could taunt his six year old twin brother with.

Perhaps, we did get to yes, after all.




And Jose didn't even need to give up a Phil Plantier card to get it!

2. The best baseball story of 2006 was the news that Tigers phenom Joel Zumaya was sidelined for the ALCS due to an injury sustained while playing Guitar Hero on his PlayStation. Jose recently received this game for Christmas from his brother, and expects that soon enough, his efforts to recreate the Keith Foulke era by rocking out to “Mother” by Danzig will put him on the shelf. Still, this seemed like a good opportunity to recount some of the strangest injuries in Major League history. While a fuller list can be found here, Jose would like to highlight a few of his favorites from this list.
  • Jose Cardenal missed a game in 1974 because he couldn’t blink. (Note: Ironically, sore eyes from not blinking is also a Guitar Hero related injury).

  • In 1985 Vince Coleman got rolled up by the tarp machine and missed the World Series as a result.

  • Glenallen Hill fell out of bed and through a glass table while dreaming that spiders were attacking him. He then proceeded to crawl through the shards of glass. Presumably, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets was way too scary for Hill.

But the funniest of all baseball injuries remains, of course, Derek Jeter dislocating his shoulder in a collision with Toronto catcher Ken Huckabee. That cracks Jose up every time!

While all of these are fun and funny, Jose would remind you that in each of these cases and every other one linked to in the above site, the true cause of injury is almost definitely the player being attacked by mistress, wife or girlfriend, which is also funny but not quite as much so. (Note: Jose in no way endorses domestic violence by or against professional athletes. He is only saying that if someone can’t blink, it is more likely that it is because his mistress did some weird Clockwork Orange type stuff to him, than due to some functional disease. Similarly, Guitar Hero is the perfect misdirection stunt, a story so hysterical, so neat, that it totally distracts us from the reality that Zumaya probably injured his wrist through chronic, compulsive masturbation.)

3. The latest speculation out of the Bronx is that the Yankees are looking to trade lefty Randy Johnson, sending him back to Arizona from whence he came. Should the Yankees trade the 6’10’’ Johnson after two expensive and underwhelming seasons at $16 million per, Johnson will go down as the biggest bust in New York, both literally and figuratively since King Kong on Broadway.

I’m Jose Melendez, and those are my KEYS TO THE HOT STOVE.