Some things should never change. Dusty being a passive aggressive asshole is something that should never, ever change. Check out that video of Johnnie B. Baker Jr. laughing uncomfortably as his irritating second baseman, Brandon Phillips berates a writer for criticizing Phillips’ awful on base average (.310) and Dusty for batting him second.
Doesn’t the writer KNOW that Dusty’s got to bat his second baseman second? That’s how IT WORKS, dude!
By the way, Dusty without glasses is creepy.
It’s been a while, but Carrie Muskat sent me a Muskbox rejection today, and it’s a good one:
Dusty signaling for the lefty.
It’s so cute how the Cincinnati Reds think they’re close to winning a pennant. Sure, they’ve won the NL Central in two of the last three years, and yes, they have a great player at first base in Joey Votto and a couple of really good starting pitchers, plus a crazy Cuban closer who throws like 1,200 miles an hour. But today they announced they’re keeping Johnnie B. Dusty Baker as their manager for two more years.
All that means is they’re going to have two more years for Johnny Cueto and Mat Latos to get hurt, two more years for Votto and Brandon Phillips to get older, and two more years of Zack Cozart and his sub .300 on base average hitting first or second in the lineup.
You get a lot of good things when you have Dusty as your manager. You get a shitload of made up Hank Aaron stories. You get pregame dim sum and Miles Davis on the clubhouse stereo, and the fans behind the home dugout get real-live, game worn, manager wrist bands tossed into the stands after wins.
You also get a lot of bad. You get terrible in-game strategy. You get drooled on toothpicks scattered all over…everywhere. You also get a lot of non-sensical pre and post-game comments, paranoia, and improperly filed federal taxes. For all of his success, Dusty has still never won a playoff series without the assistance of a bloated, steroid ravaged corner outfielder in the middle of his lineup.
When last we left our beloved national baseball writing dumbass he was trying to figure out why Joe Maddon can’t just pick a lineup and use it, his boner was only partly flaccid over the Conor Gillaspie era in San Francisco (alas, Conor lasted only six days and hit a robust .150), and he just couldn’t figure out what was wrong with Luke Hochever (well, Luke sucks, that’s what’s wrong with him.) What will Phil unearth for us this week that will make our brains hurt? Let’s dare to find out.
Power rankings go back to the days of JG Taylor Spink (not really) and I was being paid to half-ass them 15 years ago (really) for various sites. One thing about them has never changed. They’re pointless. They’re an easy way to churn out a column every week, but nobody cares about them. You want proof that they’re a crutch for lazy sportswriters? Here’s your proof. Phil Rogers writes them every week.