Also, I realize the Big Board is horribly out of date, and I apologize. I’d love to say I’ll have a new one up this weekend, but I’m not sure I’ll get around to it… let’s just say early next week and leave it at that.
Here’s a piece by John McGrath (Tacoma News Tribune) about Christensen from a few days ago. I pretty much agree with McGrath on this one (not to mention Derek), and really, if you’re going to take a chance on someone with questionable character, shouldn’t you at least take that chance on someone who can play?
I’ve gone after the Mariners repeatedly for their valuation of good clubhouse guys over talent, meaning they’ll pass up a chance to pick up Milton Bradley because he’s got a short fuse, but gladly overpay for Raul Ibanez for his community relations.
I’ve also drawn a sort of unstated line, which in as few words as possible is: pick fair fights. If a batter’s apt to scrap when pegged in the yap, I’m not going to get up in arms about that. Al Martin socking his backup wife? Nuh-uh. But Al Martin’s a hard worker, a good clubhouse guy, so the M’s made a joke of their domestic abuse campaign.
Now they’ve signed Ben Christensen. There’s been enough wailing over him in the past, so I’m not going to get up and rant for a thousand words about what a scumbag he is. That’s freely available on the Internet, and you all know how to use search tools. But for those of you who don’t know, the short version is this:
In a college game, Christensen felt that a batter, Anthony Molina, in the on-deck circle was timing his pitches. When Molina wasn’t looking, Christensen beaned him in the head with a fastball, destroying Molina’s vision and, pretty much, any chance he had at a baseball career.
That’s all indisputable. You can go look up the accounts of the game, the investigation, and so on: Molina wasn’t anywhere near the plate, as some have claimed, and if he was timing pitches, wouldn’t he have seen that one coming? This isn’t standard practice in college ball, as has been tossed around. Anyway.
Christensen never expressed remorse about what he did. He still hasn’t fully fessed up to what happened.
I don’t doubt that his coaches trained him to do it, possibly encouraged that kind of thing, but Christensen’s never come out and said “I was in college and my blood was all angried up, I realize that was insane and I’ve made my peace with Molina beyond settling his lawsuit.”
Instead, Christensen’s always seemed like he feels the attention on him is undeserved. That if he’d missed, everything would have been perfectly fine. Like he’s a little bit resentful that Molina didn’t dodge the fastball coming for him.
Now Ben Christensen is a Mariner, and I feel like shit about being a Mariner fan. Thanks, Bill Bavasi.
I’d like to point out that the words I came up with were:
Boone! Here comes the Boone!
Ready or not
Here comes a ball that’s caught.
That is all.
People who touch balls in play shouldn’t get reseated — they should be ejected and have their season tickets donated to charity (I’m a charity, right?). Gave your tickets to someone? It’s your responsibility to ensure your guests behave themselves, so boo-hoo. Those seats aren’t owned by season ticket holders (and I can’t imagine that’s the case)? You get to clean out the Moose’s costume at the end of a long, hot game.
I didn’t want to have to do this, but because the music is so stale (and useless anyways) I’ll point out that their choices make for easy mockery. Like Boone:
Boone! Here comes the Boone!
Ready or not
I strike out a lot
I said Boone! Here comes the Boone!
Ready or not
Hit a ball that’s caught…
Blame Jason for part of that.
I also think that if you want to live a long and happy life, you should follow Pat Gillick around, and marvel at the disasters that happen to those unfortunate locations and people you’ve just left.
Do you think his days are microcosms of his baseball career? He goes to the salad bar and gets the last scoop of lettuce before the greens catch fire, crosses the street before a meteor strikes the corner, gets the last unpoisoned coffee from a street vendor…
Strained right hamstring for Ibanez? oooooh, if Ibanez has hamstring troubles this year… (wincing) maybe we play him at first.
Boy, if Ibanez is injured, this offense is going straight to H-E-double hockey sticks. On-fire Ichiro’s been the best hitter on this team, but Ibanez isn’t far back. Without him, the team has one — one — player above-average for their position, and a bunch of hitters who aren’t performing any better than random schleps you could sign to minor league deals.
Also, Ron Fairly’s endorsement of the new logo over the old one seals my opinion of the previous one as the better of the two.
So reader Glenn Peterson wants me to forgo making fun of the announcers, as it’s too easy, but I’m sorry, I can’t resist.
When you watch or listen to the game, pay attention to how often they’re really saying nothing of any value. Reciting the pitch counts by innings is one thing, and even “that’s the first time I’ve seen this….” is os some potential value. But “He’s a player up from the minor leagues who is now getting a chance in the major leagues” — couldn’t Fairly just not say anything and let us enjoy the silence?
Woah, Josh Phelps got a hold of that pitch.
I note the stands are looking a little sparse. It’s June, it’s a beautiful, beautiful day, and while the Jays aren’t a particularly exciting matchup, seeing all those green seats is a little jarring.
Super Reader Paul Covert speculates that Meche’s 1999 also might not count as an option year because once up Meche did not go back down.
He also agrees that Aurilia’s defense is pretty bad, and offers this: “My ears had heard of it / But now my eyes have seen it / Therefore Bavasi ought to despise himself / And repent in dust and ashes.” (Or however that quotation goes.)
7:24 edit — Tom Wylie offers that if his contract was purchased in 1999, that’s not an option year. However, the only thing I can find about this is that he was “recalled from Tacoma” in July, which implies his contract had already been purchased and he was in Tacoma on an optional assignment, which would make 1999 an option year. This one remains open to speculation, though.