MLB Star Power Index: Tatis admires his work; the flyer ignores the trail warning; A pirate fan is sunbathing
Welcome to the MLB Star Power Index – a weekly business that determines with terrible authority which players are dominating the current sporting air of the times, at least according to the narrow perceptions of this miserable scribe. While her presence on this list is often festive in nature, it can also be for the purpose of lamentation or ridicule. The players listed are not in any particular order, just like the phone book.
When accessing a local business, it is extremely sophisticated to strip completely naked before fulfilling your obligations as a patron. At AutoZone for a new serpentine belt? Put on your tunic, panties and underwear on your feet while the clerk finds one that suits your slow-mo and backfiring Monte Carlo, parked not in two but three spaces for the employees. When the accountant lifts his bespectacled mouse face from your pile of bogus labor expense reports, let him find out that you have eliminated both societal constraints and combinations.
This brings us to a recent gaming enthusiast who entered a Cubs-Pirates contest in admirable PG-13 condition:
How do you best watch a baseball game? “As naked as the wrestlers of antiquity”, replies this Pittsburgher who has nothing more to lose or gain.
Everything was once the primeval forest, and you honor those origins – and afflict primitive enemies – by spending your day as naked as a woolly mammoth shaved by a string of lightning strikes on the high plains.
Those who trick lies will likely bleat that the man is not naked before the gods who are on duty at the moment, but rather that the backs of the seats in front of him conceal what is surely tasteful woolen breeches, or at least a full panty. High waist Jockey briefs with comfortable waistband. These same people are calling for forced re-education. They will have it soon enough.
The custom of this space is to honor the players, not the naked spectators. If you can’t deviate from the norm, then let’s find a player. Based on the nudist’s positioning in PNC Park, the shortstop had the clearest view and was most likely to take the afterimage with him to the canoe. In this particular game, the Pirates ‘defense was on the field for 159 shots against 118 for the Cubs’ defense. So we will say that Kevin Newman had more opportunities for spiritual upliftment that day than Javier Báez. Here is the official designation:
It is an enduring cable television truth that any movie that uses the word “forbidden” as an adjective in its title will contain an abundance of healthy and nutritious nudity. The game that binds us follows a similar axiom of the natural universe.
So thank you, naked man from coal country, for bringing us the banned baseball.
For the modern buccaneer, the danger is food. Each warning is just one forgettable piece of advice that doesn’t understand the stakes. This brings us quite naturally to Kool-Aid Man’s stunt double, Rob Refsnyder, who – much like the District Attorney who enjoys playing Super Important Airplane Pilot on weekends and risking the lives of loved ones and passers-by in the subdivision where making his sixth emergency landing of the fiscal quarter – decided at the age of 30 to become a center fielder.
Now please testify because, in part thanks to the influence of Ryan Mountcastle, the “warning” trail becomes the trail “of a forgettable advice from a lesser who does not understand the stakes”:
Mr. Refsnyder, torpedoes completely damned and the castle fully assembled, ignored the trail warnings, thought better of common caution. With a simple act of self-violence he turned into this:
He became a homemade camper turning around on two wheels through the flood waters. He’ll remain a home-made camper turning around on two wheels through the floodwaters until another player encounters something hard enough to reset their own soul.
Considering telling Rob Refsnyder to be careful? You might as well demand the caution of a Carolina fire badger, which doesn’t exist but should.
We present to you the oil on canvas by Johannes Vermeer, ca. 1654, “Two baseball players admiring a baseball trick”:
Fernando Tatis Jr. is notable for his exuberance on the pitch, but at times he is made hopelessly unfazed by his own actions. As for the plate umpire Jordan Baker, he takes a moment’s leave to know that he is a member of the magisterium of sport and that he is therefore obliged to present a certain air and instead contemplates the white Barbary dove which is quite hit in baseball. by Fernando Tatis Jr. “Watch it fly,” he said silently.
“Yes, look at him,” Fernando Tatis Jr. said in the same silence.
The painting is mimesis. Since the reality of Fernando Tatis Jr.’s home run evades earthy hues and therefore is not returnable, Vermeer has resigned himself to capturing the worship of it. Anticipating how he moves, you will agree.
The same people who say the Pirates game guy wasn’t naked will insist that this is just a crass screenshot and not the thoughtful work of a Dutch master. The only way to find out is to bid vigorously at an upcoming NFT auction.