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A more accurate title would have been: "My Name is Mychael And Here Are My Feelings". Aside from the obvious misspelling or pointlessly unique deliberatemisspelling of his first name, Mychael has nothing interesting to say. Let's look at some drivel:
Here's how it works: Complete games are Good For Ball. There's nothing like watching a pitcher finish what he starts, mostly because it means he's gone through the same set of hitters three or four times with success, and that's a lot harder to do than you might think.
Okay, okay. Complete games are going down. They have been going down. I know this. But who the hell cares that you think it's bad for ball? I think baseball's as good as it once was, and as good once as it ever was. Sure, a complete game is cool, but that doesn't have much effect on The Game. Complete games are pretty much a statistical afterthought.
Conversely, yanking a pitcher after eight shutout innings because his pitch count is at 115 in a 1-0 game is Bad For Ball. Pitch count, smitch count. Let the man win or lose it on his own.
See the thing is, Mychael, you should take Dusty's relegation to the booth as a sign NOT to take his advice on handling a pitching staff. I am sure Mark Prior is glad that he won or lost those pointless games for the 2004 Cubs On His Own. Also I think this qualifies as a Lunchpail Alert: if you try and leave a game after 115 pitches but you only had the cojones to finish 8 innings, you are a pussy.
Mychael then goes on a rant about soap dispensers. It has nothing to do with baseball. I will spare you his feelings on personal hygiene. Maybe he only wrote that in to proves to his mother (who he emails his column to every day) that he washes his hands when he accidentally pisses on them while aimlessly waving his hand practicing the "y" in his autograph.
Also he praises Verlander's no-no. Honestly. Calling that Good For Ball is such a boring statement to make that I won't even dignify it with a simile.
One of the most tired scenes in baseball is the benches-clearing mill-about-and-do-nothing, but it sure beats a benches-clearing brawl, which is always a possibility when you have 50 grown men in close proximity, each of them a little hacked off about something.
So why not institute a rule similar to the NBA rule that caused so much controversy in this year's Western Conference Finals? Leave the bench and you get suspended.
What's that? Bench-clearings are part of the game, like fighting in hockey? Bullpuck. Beanball wars are part of the game, too, but that doesn't make 'em right. Let the guys on the field handle whatever business they must. Watching seven relievers running in from the bullpen, only to arrive about 40 seconds after the dust has settled is Bad For Ball.
Of course brawls aren't Part of the Game - that's why they're still cool. I don't know if there are notable hockey fights, but the few baseball scuffles that actually make it to blows are legendary. Kyle Farnsworth has made a career out of winning them. Nolan Ryan hammering on Robin Ventura is epic. Pedro Borbon (of old Reds fame) actually bit a Mets cap apart during one. Sure, a lot of the times baseball brawls are just disguised humping and arm-waving, but it's really nothing for you to comment on. The occasional fighting in the sport makes for amusing anecdotes, not for moral posturing.
And the phrase "Bullpuck" is not exactly going to get you into the dictionary, Shakespeare.
The entire Minute Maid Park experience in Houston is worthy of one of these columns, from the Chik-fil-A signage -- "Eat Mor Fowl" -- besmirching the foul poles (Bad For Ball) to the Cranium Cam -- live bobbleheads, anyone? -- on the big screen between innings, it's a smorgasborg for the senses.
The most pleasing entrée, however, is the sight of rookie Hunter Pence digging out a triple off the base of Tal's Hill. Never mind he looks 14 years old and, in the words of Oakland's Nick Swisher, looks "like one of those guys you see in old movies about baseball in the 1940s." This kid can flat play, and he's a breath of fresh air for Houstonians disappointed by their 'Stros this season.
And then there's the name. Hunter Pence. Clearly, he was destined to either play big-league ball or host a show on the Outdoor Life network. Good For Ball.
I feel like Mychael's finally getting to his main point - the subtle distinction between what's Good For Ball and what's Bad For Ball. This sounds eerily similar to the phrase oft heard on this site - "Playing the Game the Right Way". In this case, the Astros' ballpark is Bad for Ball because it's overly commercial and Hunter Pence is Good For Ball because he looks like a baseball player from the old days back before they even invented tv and advertisers still had to have jingles that rhymes. Nick Swisher watches movies where people Play The Game the Right Way. The Astros' organization is obviously not Playing The Game the Right Way.
If having your eyes set at strange angles, then this man is obviously playing the game the right way:
Then he goes back to bitch about brawls again - mentioning the intrateam scuffles that have taken place recently. This violates another cardinal rule of decent journalistic writing: don't repeat yourself. Then, you go on to bitch even more about how ads are Bad for Ball and manners are Good For Ball. Honestly, Mychael. You sound like a illegitimate love child of old-time-bird-dog-scout-man-who-was-on-the-road-a-lot who mated with a secretly lonely Mrs. Cleaver. It's a damn shame Major League Baseball can't find better writers for its flagship site.
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