This segment started as a look at revisionist stats that jump off the page, but Reds pitcher Bronson Arroyo was soooooo bad in his Tuesday start against the Blue Jays that it deserves to be put in here as instant history. Let's take a look at what the emo rock guitar playing Arroyo did in just a single inning of work on June 24th:
1 inning pitched, 11 hits, 10 earned runs, 1 walk, 1 wild pitch, 3 home runs allowed
Talk about a bad day at the office. A historically bad day at the office. His ERA for the season rose over a whole point with that one outing. It was the shortest start of Arroyo's career. For those of you tracking at home, that's an ERA of 90. Not good.
Its a start like that that makes you think "Man, I really think I could have pitched better than that. Sure, I'd give up 7-8 runs, but not 10." Then you start thinking and realize you would give up 50 runs to major league hitters in one inning. Kind of like that commercial where the two guys were arguing over whether or not they could go one round of boxing against Evander Holyfield, and the the guy's head gets uppercutted off. Good stuff.
So yeah, Bronson Arroyo sucks.
June 26, 2008
June 23, 2008
In Your Face
It’s official. Tiger Woods made me his personal biotch in capturing his third US Open at Torrey Pines. If you can embarrassingly remember, in my last post I had the following to say about Mr. Woods and his chances heading into the Open.
I predict that Woods will miss the cut or withdraw from the tournament…US Open courses are completely unforgiving, and I think a rusty and gimpy Tiger, even as good as he is, will struggle mightily this weekend in Southern California.
Like the horrendous Vehix commercials, what actually transpired was the exact opposite of what I had thought was going to happen. Of course Tig didn’t withdraw even though he was playing on two stress fractures and a torn ACL (This is so ridiculous. I think I would be too tired to play video games with two stress fractures and a torn ACL, and this guy wins the US Open). And of course Tig didn’t struggle, staying near the top of the leader board for almost the entire tournament and being only one of two people under par for the week. And of course he won the damn thing.
I was actually rooting for Woods unabashedly the whole week, even though he was making me look like a total fool in the process. He’s such an animal that you know he’s going to win, but its insanely riveting all the same.
Playing against Tiger Woods is like guarding Michael Jordan in a playoff game. Can you imagine waking up knowing that you have to go one on one with the most indescribable force ever to hit your sport? As if that wasn’t bad enough, you knew you were going to be embarrassed on national television to boot. What do you think Byron Russell was thinking when he woke up before Game 6 of the 1998 Finals against the Bulls?
Oh crap, I have to guard Michael Jordan, *brushing teeth*, of crap I have to guard Michael Jordan, *shaving*, you’ve got to be kidding that I have to guard Michael Jordan, *eating breakfast*, there’s no way I can guard Michael Jordan, *driving to the arena*, Michael Jordan is going to completely roll train on me, and there is absolutely nothing I can do about it, *stretching*, do you think Michael Jordan even knows my name? Anybody’s name? I wouldn’t bother learning anybody’s name if I was Michael Jordan, because I’d be Michael freaking Jordan, *warm-ups*, shit, there’s Michael Jordan, he knows he’s going to win tonight, and he’s probably going to do it by drilling a shot right in my face, then holding the pose like an extreme badass before turning and getting mobbed by his teammates, *tip-off*, oh crap, I have guard Michael Jordan.
I think if anyone has ever felt the true meaning of helpless, it would be Byron Russell in the waning seconds against the Bulls with 20,000 people in the arena and millions of people around the world knowing that Michael Jordan was about to completely posterize him, and that there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. By the way, Jordan finished with 45 points in Game 6, including the last two over the gutted Russell.
Tiger Woods is at that level in golf. How Rocco Mediate even got out of bed on Monday morning is beyond me. An 18-hole playoff against Tiger Woods? Pffft, no. I’ll cash that second place check and be on my way, thank you very much. The fact that it took an extra hole of sudden death almost makes it worse, because you know you have absolutely no shot the whole time.
All of this was a long winded and roundabout way of saying I was totally wrong and that hurricane force freaks of nature should never be doubted, especially in their prime.
In lesser news, did anyone catch the celebrity US Open group that aired before Sunday’s final round coverage? Justin Timberlake, Tony Romo, Matt Lauer and some other guy played Torrey Pines the week before the tour players did, from the same back tees, to see if a 10 handicap could break 100 on a true US Open course. Leave it to golden boy Tony Romo to shoot a freakin 84. That might be more impressive that Tiger winning the real Open on one leg. An amateur golfer coming in and shooting 12 over? Incredible. This guy is the quarterback of America’s team, dates one of the best looking women on the plant, and shoots an 84 on a US Open course. Not too shabby. I was impressed by Timberlake and Lauer as well, who shot 98 and 100 respectively.
In much lesser news, I saw a guy at a Nats game a couple of weeks ago wearing a Babe Ruth jersey. Something tells me this 45 year old never saw the Bambino play. The guy was an idiot twice over though, as the jersey had the name “Ruth” spelled out above the legendary number 3. The Yankees have never, ever had names on their jerseys in the entire history of the team (Thanks to eminent Oceanliner roommate and Yankee diehard Schling for that one). I don’t know who this guy was trying to fool or what his intentions were, unless maybe he’s just a lunatic.
In hilarious news, two loser-bum ex-NFL players have been involved in drinking related arrests over the past few weeks. Everyone’s favorite convict sibling, Marcus Vick, was arrested in early June when “a uniformed bicycle patrol officer observed Vick and a female involved in an altercation in the car early Friday. When the officer asked for a driver's license, police say Vick sped away but was stopped minutes later.” I would pay a lot of money to see that arrest: Vick speeding away from a bike cop. Being the Vick family lawyer would be a good position to be in, as you know you will have fairly regular work.
The other hilarious alcohol related story involves Cedric Benson, the ex Chicago Bear who has been arrested twice in 2008, once for boating while intoxicated and the other for driving while intoxicated. Benson has been ordered to “install an ignition lock breathalyzer in his car”. Priceless. If I were Benson though, I would try and get DUI’s in as many different vehicles as possible. I mean he’s already got cars and boats; he should now try for motorcycles, horses, tractors and scooters. He could pretend it’s like Bingo. Something to pass the time, when you know, you aren’t in the NFL anymore.
Well, that’s it for this week folks. The Oceanliner just had a very middle school weekend, and it was awesome. I went to a surprise birthday party, played tennis, went bowling and watched a movie. All I needed was Mountain Dew, an acne breakout and a game of Spin the Bottle to complete it. But until next time friends, stay safe, keep it real and hug it out.
I predict that Woods will miss the cut or withdraw from the tournament…US Open courses are completely unforgiving, and I think a rusty and gimpy Tiger, even as good as he is, will struggle mightily this weekend in Southern California.
Like the horrendous Vehix commercials, what actually transpired was the exact opposite of what I had thought was going to happen. Of course Tig didn’t withdraw even though he was playing on two stress fractures and a torn ACL (This is so ridiculous. I think I would be too tired to play video games with two stress fractures and a torn ACL, and this guy wins the US Open). And of course Tig didn’t struggle, staying near the top of the leader board for almost the entire tournament and being only one of two people under par for the week. And of course he won the damn thing.
I was actually rooting for Woods unabashedly the whole week, even though he was making me look like a total fool in the process. He’s such an animal that you know he’s going to win, but its insanely riveting all the same.
Playing against Tiger Woods is like guarding Michael Jordan in a playoff game. Can you imagine waking up knowing that you have to go one on one with the most indescribable force ever to hit your sport? As if that wasn’t bad enough, you knew you were going to be embarrassed on national television to boot. What do you think Byron Russell was thinking when he woke up before Game 6 of the 1998 Finals against the Bulls?
Oh crap, I have to guard Michael Jordan, *brushing teeth*, of crap I have to guard Michael Jordan, *shaving*, you’ve got to be kidding that I have to guard Michael Jordan, *eating breakfast*, there’s no way I can guard Michael Jordan, *driving to the arena*, Michael Jordan is going to completely roll train on me, and there is absolutely nothing I can do about it, *stretching*, do you think Michael Jordan even knows my name? Anybody’s name? I wouldn’t bother learning anybody’s name if I was Michael Jordan, because I’d be Michael freaking Jordan, *warm-ups*, shit, there’s Michael Jordan, he knows he’s going to win tonight, and he’s probably going to do it by drilling a shot right in my face, then holding the pose like an extreme badass before turning and getting mobbed by his teammates, *tip-off*, oh crap, I have guard Michael Jordan.
I think if anyone has ever felt the true meaning of helpless, it would be Byron Russell in the waning seconds against the Bulls with 20,000 people in the arena and millions of people around the world knowing that Michael Jordan was about to completely posterize him, and that there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. By the way, Jordan finished with 45 points in Game 6, including the last two over the gutted Russell.
Tiger Woods is at that level in golf. How Rocco Mediate even got out of bed on Monday morning is beyond me. An 18-hole playoff against Tiger Woods? Pffft, no. I’ll cash that second place check and be on my way, thank you very much. The fact that it took an extra hole of sudden death almost makes it worse, because you know you have absolutely no shot the whole time.
All of this was a long winded and roundabout way of saying I was totally wrong and that hurricane force freaks of nature should never be doubted, especially in their prime.
In lesser news, did anyone catch the celebrity US Open group that aired before Sunday’s final round coverage? Justin Timberlake, Tony Romo, Matt Lauer and some other guy played Torrey Pines the week before the tour players did, from the same back tees, to see if a 10 handicap could break 100 on a true US Open course. Leave it to golden boy Tony Romo to shoot a freakin 84. That might be more impressive that Tiger winning the real Open on one leg. An amateur golfer coming in and shooting 12 over? Incredible. This guy is the quarterback of America’s team, dates one of the best looking women on the plant, and shoots an 84 on a US Open course. Not too shabby. I was impressed by Timberlake and Lauer as well, who shot 98 and 100 respectively.
In much lesser news, I saw a guy at a Nats game a couple of weeks ago wearing a Babe Ruth jersey. Something tells me this 45 year old never saw the Bambino play. The guy was an idiot twice over though, as the jersey had the name “Ruth” spelled out above the legendary number 3. The Yankees have never, ever had names on their jerseys in the entire history of the team (Thanks to eminent Oceanliner roommate and Yankee diehard Schling for that one). I don’t know who this guy was trying to fool or what his intentions were, unless maybe he’s just a lunatic.
In hilarious news, two loser-bum ex-NFL players have been involved in drinking related arrests over the past few weeks. Everyone’s favorite convict sibling, Marcus Vick, was arrested in early June when “a uniformed bicycle patrol officer observed Vick and a female involved in an altercation in the car early Friday. When the officer asked for a driver's license, police say Vick sped away but was stopped minutes later.” I would pay a lot of money to see that arrest: Vick speeding away from a bike cop. Being the Vick family lawyer would be a good position to be in, as you know you will have fairly regular work.
The other hilarious alcohol related story involves Cedric Benson, the ex Chicago Bear who has been arrested twice in 2008, once for boating while intoxicated and the other for driving while intoxicated. Benson has been ordered to “install an ignition lock breathalyzer in his car”. Priceless. If I were Benson though, I would try and get DUI’s in as many different vehicles as possible. I mean he’s already got cars and boats; he should now try for motorcycles, horses, tractors and scooters. He could pretend it’s like Bingo. Something to pass the time, when you know, you aren’t in the NFL anymore.
Well, that’s it for this week folks. The Oceanliner just had a very middle school weekend, and it was awesome. I went to a surprise birthday party, played tennis, went bowling and watched a movie. All I needed was Mountain Dew, an acne breakout and a game of Spin the Bottle to complete it. But until next time friends, stay safe, keep it real and hug it out.
June 17, 2008
Bu-Bu-buuwwwwhhhaatttt? Stat of the Week
Barry Sanders' Heisman Trophy winning senior season at Oklahoma State:
344 carries, 2,628 yards, 7.6 yards per carry, 238.9 yards per game, 37 touchdowns, four 300 yard games
This is the most ridiculous season in college football history and will never come close to being matched or broken. Sanders scored at least twice in every game he played. He had four or more touchdowns in 6 games. His least productive game of the season was a 25 carry, 154 yard, 2 TD performance against Missouri. Hard to say what his best game was. Barry had a 332 yard, 4 TD day against Texas Tech. Sanders must have had it in for the state of Kansas. In his two games in '88 against KU and K-State, Barry rushed for 632 yards and 8 touchdowns. Oh, and none of the previous stats account for the bowl game Sanders played in that year, where he rushed for 222 yards and 5 touchdowns...in three quarters. He sat out the fourth. The Oklahoma State coaches were not stupid. They gave Sanders the ball 31 times a game...for the whole season.
Totally unreal. And completely deserving of this weeks stat. Godspeed.
344 carries, 2,628 yards, 7.6 yards per carry, 238.9 yards per game, 37 touchdowns, four 300 yard games
This is the most ridiculous season in college football history and will never come close to being matched or broken. Sanders scored at least twice in every game he played. He had four or more touchdowns in 6 games. His least productive game of the season was a 25 carry, 154 yard, 2 TD performance against Missouri. Hard to say what his best game was. Barry had a 332 yard, 4 TD day against Texas Tech. Sanders must have had it in for the state of Kansas. In his two games in '88 against KU and K-State, Barry rushed for 632 yards and 8 touchdowns. Oh, and none of the previous stats account for the bowl game Sanders played in that year, where he rushed for 222 yards and 5 touchdowns...in three quarters. He sat out the fourth. The Oklahoma State coaches were not stupid. They gave Sanders the ball 31 times a game...for the whole season.
Totally unreal. And completely deserving of this weeks stat. Godspeed.
June 12, 2008
Get To It
Get Rich Quick: So I’ve figured out how I’m going to finance my J. Oelschlager clothing line. The funds are going to come from the invention that is going to make me rich. The money that I am going to make from my invention is going to make the Rugged Luxury sales (the first line from J. Oelschlager) look like pennies.
What is this invention you may ask? I came up with it a couple of weeks ago when Austin and I were in Virginia Beach for a wedding. It was an evening wedding, so we got to spend some quality time at the beach in the afternoon. I was covered in sun screen and ready to go, or so I thought. When I was getting ready for the ceremony, I looked down and noticed that I had missed the same spot on both ankles, and they were burned to a crisp. I mean really bad. What sucked even more is that I had to wear dress shoes for the next six hours that perfectly intersected my sunburned appendages. It was brutal. It’s so annoying when you miss a spot when putting sun screen on, I thought to myself, there must be a better way.
That’s when it hit me. I needed to invent a little hand held device that you scan your body with after putting sun tan lotion on that tells you the spots you have missed. What a life saver that would be. I would pay at least 50 bucks for something like that, maybe more. And with the way the o-zone layer is going, those missed spots are going to be costlier and costlier. So that’s how I’m going to get filthy rich and be able to start my own baller ass clothing line, J. Oelschlager. You can start looking for some Rugged Luxury at a store near you. Now I’ve only got to figure out how to invent a machine that scans your body and lets you know the spots that don’t have sun tan lotion. No biggie.
Get Outta Here: I went to lunch last week at a local Italian deli. It was steaming hot outside, clocking in around 95 degrees. The woman in front of me in line, who happened to have a really annoying nasal voice, asked what the soup of the day was. Turns out it was chili. This woman goes “Mmmm, sounds good, I’ll have a big bowl of the chili”. What a lunatic. Who orders a fat bowl of chili at lunchtime when it’s scorching hot outside? I don’t think I could have mustered the energy to turn my car on if I had wolfed down a bowl of chili during a summer lunch, much less gone back to work. Get outta here, chili woman.
Get Some Just For Men: My good friend Peter King continues to write horrible columns for both Sports Illustrated and SI.com. Check out the picture of King they run next to his articles:
What the hell is that little blond patch, Petey? You tryin to look hip? Get some Just for Men dude and stop telling us about your coffee.
Get Some Tony Robbins: I was diligently following a Red Sox-Royals game on the Internet one night a couple of weeks ago, praying that Jonathan Papelbon would get the save and help my fantasy team. So you can imagine my confusion and dismay when I saw this flash across the screen:
Fielder’s indifference? What the hell does that mean? “No, I don’t really feel like throwing this guy out right now”. Thank god Papelbon got the next batter out or I would have been really pissed at that fielder’s lack of motivation.
Get Your Wallets Out: The US Open is this weekend at Torrey Pines and Tiger Woods hasn’t played golf since getting knee surgery after the Masters. He hasn’t walked a full 18 holes since Augusta. I predict that Woods will miss the cut or withdraw from the tournament. Remember, the only time Woods has missed the cut at a major was when he took a significant amount of time off to grieve the death of his father before the 2006 US Open at Winged Foot. US Open courses are completely unforgiving, and I think a rusty and gimpy Tiger, even as good as he is, will struggle mightily this weekend in Southern California.
Get Catty: Everyone loves a good catfight. Well, make that all guys love a good catfight. Katherine Heigl, uber hot girl from Knocked Up, recently declined to be nominated for an Emmy this year for her performance on Greys Anatomy. This is her explanation: "I did not feel that I was given the material this season to warrant an Emmy nomination and in an effort to maintain the integrity of the academy organization". Burn! Talk about throwing the entire writing staff, producers and director under the bus. Now I’m no genius on office politics, but blasting your bosses to the media does not seem like a good idea to me. Rrrreeaaaarrrrr!
Get Shorty: In 2003, Bobby Knight declined to accept his $250,000 salary from Texas Tech because after leading the Red Raiders to a mediocre 16-11 record and commented “I don’t think I should be paid for that”. Now that’s being a true baller. Katherine Heigl biting the hand that fed her and made her famous? Busch League.
Get Down!: Mother Nature is rolling train on us right now. Cyclones, earthquakes, tornados and floods have been poppin up like hot cakes in 2008. Every time I check the news nowadays I expect to see a new volcano eruption or disastrous mudslide.
Get Out of My Face: Well, that’s it for this week folks. Summer is upon us and is it glorious. I hope everyone out there takes plenty of vacation and escapes from The Man for a week or two. Until next time, stay safe, keep it real and boot em up.
What is this invention you may ask? I came up with it a couple of weeks ago when Austin and I were in Virginia Beach for a wedding. It was an evening wedding, so we got to spend some quality time at the beach in the afternoon. I was covered in sun screen and ready to go, or so I thought. When I was getting ready for the ceremony, I looked down and noticed that I had missed the same spot on both ankles, and they were burned to a crisp. I mean really bad. What sucked even more is that I had to wear dress shoes for the next six hours that perfectly intersected my sunburned appendages. It was brutal. It’s so annoying when you miss a spot when putting sun screen on, I thought to myself, there must be a better way.
That’s when it hit me. I needed to invent a little hand held device that you scan your body with after putting sun tan lotion on that tells you the spots you have missed. What a life saver that would be. I would pay at least 50 bucks for something like that, maybe more. And with the way the o-zone layer is going, those missed spots are going to be costlier and costlier. So that’s how I’m going to get filthy rich and be able to start my own baller ass clothing line, J. Oelschlager. You can start looking for some Rugged Luxury at a store near you. Now I’ve only got to figure out how to invent a machine that scans your body and lets you know the spots that don’t have sun tan lotion. No biggie.
Get Outta Here: I went to lunch last week at a local Italian deli. It was steaming hot outside, clocking in around 95 degrees. The woman in front of me in line, who happened to have a really annoying nasal voice, asked what the soup of the day was. Turns out it was chili. This woman goes “Mmmm, sounds good, I’ll have a big bowl of the chili”. What a lunatic. Who orders a fat bowl of chili at lunchtime when it’s scorching hot outside? I don’t think I could have mustered the energy to turn my car on if I had wolfed down a bowl of chili during a summer lunch, much less gone back to work. Get outta here, chili woman.
Get Some Just For Men: My good friend Peter King continues to write horrible columns for both Sports Illustrated and SI.com. Check out the picture of King they run next to his articles:
What the hell is that little blond patch, Petey? You tryin to look hip? Get some Just for Men dude and stop telling us about your coffee.Get Some Tony Robbins: I was diligently following a Red Sox-Royals game on the Internet one night a couple of weeks ago, praying that Jonathan Papelbon would get the save and help my fantasy team. So you can imagine my confusion and dismay when I saw this flash across the screen:
Fielder’s indifference? What the hell does that mean? “No, I don’t really feel like throwing this guy out right now”. Thank god Papelbon got the next batter out or I would have been really pissed at that fielder’s lack of motivation.
Get Your Wallets Out: The US Open is this weekend at Torrey Pines and Tiger Woods hasn’t played golf since getting knee surgery after the Masters. He hasn’t walked a full 18 holes since Augusta. I predict that Woods will miss the cut or withdraw from the tournament. Remember, the only time Woods has missed the cut at a major was when he took a significant amount of time off to grieve the death of his father before the 2006 US Open at Winged Foot. US Open courses are completely unforgiving, and I think a rusty and gimpy Tiger, even as good as he is, will struggle mightily this weekend in Southern California.
Get Catty: Everyone loves a good catfight. Well, make that all guys love a good catfight. Katherine Heigl, uber hot girl from Knocked Up, recently declined to be nominated for an Emmy this year for her performance on Greys Anatomy. This is her explanation: "I did not feel that I was given the material this season to warrant an Emmy nomination and in an effort to maintain the integrity of the academy organization". Burn! Talk about throwing the entire writing staff, producers and director under the bus. Now I’m no genius on office politics, but blasting your bosses to the media does not seem like a good idea to me. Rrrreeaaaarrrrr!
Get Shorty: In 2003, Bobby Knight declined to accept his $250,000 salary from Texas Tech because after leading the Red Raiders to a mediocre 16-11 record and commented “I don’t think I should be paid for that”. Now that’s being a true baller. Katherine Heigl biting the hand that fed her and made her famous? Busch League.
Get Down!: Mother Nature is rolling train on us right now. Cyclones, earthquakes, tornados and floods have been poppin up like hot cakes in 2008. Every time I check the news nowadays I expect to see a new volcano eruption or disastrous mudslide.
Get Out of My Face: Well, that’s it for this week folks. Summer is upon us and is it glorious. I hope everyone out there takes plenty of vacation and escapes from The Man for a week or two. Until next time, stay safe, keep it real and boot em up.
June 10, 2008
Bu-Bu-buuwwwwhhhaatttt? Stat of the Week
Hello there friends. Welcome back to the Oceanliner. I apologize for the lengthy absence of a post. I was very busy last week and had my 5th year high school reunion over the weekend. Hotel Oelschlager was chock full as I had six high school buddies crashing at the Ribrary. Excuses are for losers though, I just didn't write anything last week.
Anyhoo, I am proud to announce a new weekly feature at the Oceanliner, starting right now. If you follow this blog at all, you know how obsessed I am with the statistics that accompany the sports I love. Well, there are some pretty heady stats out there from years/decades/centuries ago that knock your socks off when you see them again. It is my imperative to bring these incredulous accomplishments back to light so all can admire their ridiculousness. That is why I am calling this new weekly segment the Bu-Bu-buuwwwwhhhaatttt? Stat of the Week. Numbers so nuts that you will shake your head in disbelief while your jaw hangs on the floor.
The first inductee into the Bu-Bu-buuwwwwhhhaatttt? Hall of Fame is the Great Bambino himself. Babe Ruth dominated his era of baseball like no one in history. There will be multiple seasons of Ruth in this weekly stat obsession, but the first that I am going to pull is his 1921 season, his second with the Yankees after being sold from the Red Sox for, get this, $125,000. Imagine how much Malox the Boston owner needed after looking at the Sultan of Swing's 1921 season:
.378 batting average, 59 home runs, 171 RBI, 177 runs, 44 doubles, 16 triples, 17 steals, 145 walks, .512 on base percentage
Insanity. Maybe the stat that jumps out the most is that Ruth's fat ass managed to hit 16 triples and steal 17 bases. Or the fact that the second most home runs in the league that year was 24. Or the fact that the Babe got on base over 50% of the time. Or that he won the RBI title by 32. Or the runs scored title by 45. Or maybe even that Ruth didn't win the Triple Crown because three people had a better average than his .378! Any way you look at it is incredible. And that is why it is fitting that Babe Ruth's 1921 season leads off the inagural Bu-Bu-buuwwwwhhhaatttt? Stat of the Week.
The plan for now is to try and do two posts a week, one stat of the week and one regular. So check back in later this week for hopefully all new pointless and selfish insights into the world of sports, entertainment and whatever else gets my blood boiling at the moment. Peace out honkeys.
Anyhoo, I am proud to announce a new weekly feature at the Oceanliner, starting right now. If you follow this blog at all, you know how obsessed I am with the statistics that accompany the sports I love. Well, there are some pretty heady stats out there from years/decades/centuries ago that knock your socks off when you see them again. It is my imperative to bring these incredulous accomplishments back to light so all can admire their ridiculousness. That is why I am calling this new weekly segment the Bu-Bu-buuwwwwhhhaatttt? Stat of the Week. Numbers so nuts that you will shake your head in disbelief while your jaw hangs on the floor.
The first inductee into the Bu-Bu-buuwwwwhhhaatttt? Hall of Fame is the Great Bambino himself. Babe Ruth dominated his era of baseball like no one in history. There will be multiple seasons of Ruth in this weekly stat obsession, but the first that I am going to pull is his 1921 season, his second with the Yankees after being sold from the Red Sox for, get this, $125,000. Imagine how much Malox the Boston owner needed after looking at the Sultan of Swing's 1921 season:
.378 batting average, 59 home runs, 171 RBI, 177 runs, 44 doubles, 16 triples, 17 steals, 145 walks, .512 on base percentage
Insanity. Maybe the stat that jumps out the most is that Ruth's fat ass managed to hit 16 triples and steal 17 bases. Or the fact that the second most home runs in the league that year was 24. Or the fact that the Babe got on base over 50% of the time. Or that he won the RBI title by 32. Or the runs scored title by 45. Or maybe even that Ruth didn't win the Triple Crown because three people had a better average than his .378! Any way you look at it is incredible. And that is why it is fitting that Babe Ruth's 1921 season leads off the inagural Bu-Bu-buuwwwwhhhaatttt? Stat of the Week.
The plan for now is to try and do two posts a week, one stat of the week and one regular. So check back in later this week for hopefully all new pointless and selfish insights into the world of sports, entertainment and whatever else gets my blood boiling at the moment. Peace out honkeys.
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