OK, here’s the second mystery photo. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to help figure out the who/when/where of the photo.
Click on the image for a larger view.
If you have any old MLB photos that might suit this game, please send ’em in to mystery At humbug .com.
After looking more closely at my stack of mystery photos, it looks like there are really only four or five different games that the photos come from, in just two different ballparks.
That’s not going to make this game much of a challenge. So I’m going to ask for some help. If any of you have some old photos lying around of MLB games, that you either (a) don’t know the who/what/when of the photo, or (b) you know, but think it would make a fun challenge for others to figure out, please email them in to me at this email address:
mystery ATsign humbug .com
I only want your own personal photos, that I would have the rights to publish. Please don’t send me copyrighted material.
Thanks!
On a recent travel adventure, I happened to wander into a “Recycle Store”, a business which tries to take one person’s junk and turn into someone else’s treasure.
This store happened to have a huge barrelful of old, discarded slides and photo negatives. Turns out that most of these discarded pictures were of sporting events. Probably 95% of them were pictures of NCAA and NFL football games, but there were some baseball pictures in the pile, too.
So I gathered up as many baseball pictures as I could find, and bought a couple handfuls of the old photos.
None of these photos were marked in any way, so there’s the game: let’s try to identify who the people are in the photos, and figure out where and when the photo was taken.
Ready? Here’s picture #1:
Click on the image for a larger view.
While stumped by which needs were addressed,
I’m awed by the Dodgers’ new quest
To catch every Ray
And transform L.A.
To glamorous Tampa Bay West.
“It isn’t my fault,” utters Tracy,
“If we end up more out-of-the-racy
Once Littlefield sells
Good players like Wells,
Hernandez, and Wilson and Casey.”
Said Gillick to Bobby Abreu,
“We don’t have the money to peu.
But the Yankees have dough,
So that’s where you’ll go.
We’re practically giving aweu.”
The speediest rhymes to pursue
Are sounds that are simple, like “Choo”.
While pairing Broussard
No doubt isn’t hard,
The dinosaur pun’s overdue.
Memo to Moore as he cleanses:
Dump your MacDougal-Dessenses,
But dodge the Odalises
Who pigpen your palaces
And Yugo your Mercedes-Benzes.
When Shea didn’t plea everydea
He’d prea not to stea as a Jea,
Then displea such a sulk
That todea he and Chulk
Were finally treaded awea.
This blog is on a bit of a hiatus, if you hadn’t noticed. Priorities, and such, you know.
Meanwhile, if you need a sports poetry fix, check out Football Poets, for all the World Cup poetry you could possibly need.
If I were to wear my Media Mask, the following paragraph would be Rather Coy, and I would give a disclaimer that I only Hurl In Jest the upcoming insults. But no. The Joke’s Mine, and they are Sober Gags. I don’t want to put the Best Sheen on anything. I mean what I say.
The Brewers don’t have many Old Banners hanging from the rafters reminding them of their glory days, because they’ve had the Same Twit in charge making everyone Dramamine Ill all these years. Now that they have been able to Shave Bud from their Anarchic Soup of incompetent management, they are finally getting Real Close to contending.
Acquiring a guy who Is Key Cooker isn’t exactly a big offseason splash, but you don’t have to dance like Red Mariachis if you’ve slowly Pilfered Nicer over time. Let the young Jello Pan Aces grow and solidify together, and you’ll have a tasty team.
So some advice for anyone who is planning to Ski Nevada anytime soon: take a stop at a casino and Laden Nevada with my wisdom. If Nerds Ante A’s, the cool kids Cut Or Drink Brew. May I Grill In Heck if I’m wrong, but the over-under lines of 79 1/2 to 81 1/2 wins for the Brewers are too low. Bet the over, and when you fill up the Old Bank, remember the guy who Called Homer on Milwaukee.
40-man roster:
Reds fans may hope that I’ll Blog a Warm Lie, but I’m not the type of guy who gives an Award In Innocence. One Horrified Scan of the Reds offseason moves leaves me no choice but to predict an Early Doom for the 2006 Reds.
When your most significant moves are to acquire Saliva Mildew, to end up the loser in the Not My Wacko sweepstakes, while remaining unable to do something about your Sauna Stinker, it’s a sure sign that your GM is No-Brained. Your GM may have a Prize Legume, but he’s no Billy Beane. He Maligns Logic instead of uses it.
The good news is that the new Reds ownership recognized they had a Reds Brain of Chalk, and replaced their GM with someone who Was Very Kinky. Hopefully, the new impassioned leader will take No Small Pains to extricate the Reds from their Deathward Vise, but I think it’s too late to correct the Arrogant Flub that was the Reds’ offseason.
When 2006 is said and done, the Reds may have titillated with an offense that Ran Freely, but at the same time, their catchers Ran Jealous of every other pitching staff in baseball. Cincinnati will suffer through every Sinker Bum it puts on the mound. That’s why they won’t end up with gold rings around their fingers, only Battle Slime on their faces.
40-man roster:
Ordinarily, there’s a simple rule of thumb: Lost good players–Regress; Gained good players–improve. But this line of thinking doesn’t apply to the Orderly Fans of St. Louis. I will explain why, but first, a question:
What Am I Drawing?
Back to the matter at hand: if Cardinal fans Yearn Honesty, let me give my Kindest Advice: for every Yak Ring that leaves, there’s a Barren Poodle waiting to step in. If one player Has Injuring Season, another will Unjam A Toe. For most teams, these changes are a big deal. In St. Louis, these things do not matter. The truth is this simple:
As long as the Cardinals Just Rope Ball, they will contend.
Anyone who says otherwise is just trying to Spin Your Jive. OK, I’m outta here. Ciao, Thugs!
40-man roster:
In the green fields of Western Pennsylvania, beyond the Duck Haze, there lives an endangered species called the Buc Fan. Not only has the Buc Fan’s beautiful habitat shrunk like that of the Northern Zebra Doe, but the insidiously attractive Steeler Candy Ruled the attention of every environmentalist in the area. Unless we put our Angry Gloves On and Join The Monks, apathy and neglect will soon cause the Buc Fan to suffer the same fate as the Rooster Salmon, the Tall Boring Bunny, and the Ailing Crows: extinction.
Sorry, I thought I was David Attenborough for a second there. Ha, Wrong Job. PNC Park may have the Coolest Jails and a really Cute Bathroom for relieving your Red Bladder, but there’s No Pony Urinal. It’s a ballpark, not a zoo.
For My Duration, I shall discuss the Pittsburgh All Nines. The good news is that there seem to be a number of good young arms on the way. But the hitters: can you Say Banjo?
To his credit, the Pittsburgh GM did not trade away any of those good young arms in attempting to Lay His Banjos down, but I don’t want to Defend Shy Czar, either. He doesn’t seem to have the Mental Touch to put together a contender. If you don’t give up any coin, you can get neither a diamond Nor A Jade in return. This Acne Essay to improve the Buc offense– It’s Cranberry Gas. A team full of Neat Bunters will only produce the Same Matador offense Pirate Fans have suffered with for years.
40-man roster:
If you look at the offseason activity of the two World Series teams, you’d think it was the Astros who had An Overfed Nine. The winning White Sox will be a different team in 2006. The losing Astros? You will definitely Recognize Them. The Juice Box will be like Norm’s Beer Gang, where everybody knows your name.
The biggest Astros headline is this: Has the Darn Backbone of the rotation Averted Team? They need to Merger Clones, because without their ace, they’re going to have some Arm Battles. They have A Foul Pipeline of minor league talent, and whether one of the youngsters can step in and produce anything equivalent to Two Royals is something of a Riddle Bag.
The other issue is whether Jeb Flew Flag for the last time. Tensions Prowl between Jeb and the Astros, who want to collect the insurance on his salary. But that’s something for the Vital Lawyers to work out.
40-man roster:
Pardon me if I turn into Tom Tantrum here for a moment. I was just working on my NL Central Anagram Wraps when I discovered that some dude decided to rob me of my idea. Rob? By Who? A total loser named Al, apparently.
So let me tell everybody what I think about Al, the Crime Brat:
Al Is Cow Snot, Milt. Al Wore Slime, Jim. Al Ran Bozos, Marc. He’s a Dud Egg, Marx. He is all Wet, Much Lazier than I. If Al were Elizabethan, he would pilfer Shakespeare of Romeo and Juliet, and then Rob Verona, Too. I bet if Al, Slasher Man were on Survivor: Donner’s Gulch, he’d be the last man left uneaten. So, Aye, Go On TV and Rob, Kidnap Air from a drowning diver. Heck, I would even bet Al Corrals Mom if it would suit his evil purposes. Yes, So Jeer Al, he deserves your scorn.
Al, it’s time I Talked Word (Or Keyword) with you. It is so not cool to Pry Tradesmen of their work. Stealing someone else’s gig is off the scale on the Lowly Deed Meter. As far as I’m concerned, your mother is henceforth The Irony Rat and your father will forever Reek Elder Berries. I Pee, Ruin Jar and Belch on Yarn in your general direction. You are not worthy to Jab My Horn.
So I’m warning you: watch out. Do you have a bodyguard Escort Yet? Don’t bother. You can’t stop me. I’ll make any Escort Moot. If I Expel you from the blogosphere with A Penal Gang it won’t be a moment too soon. If you try anything remotely like that again, I will make you sing from Woman Hill, if you know what I mean.
OK, sorry for that Sad Diva Drama. Back to your regularly scheduled anagrams.
40-man roster:
Navy haze all in my brain.
Lately things don’t seem the same.
Losin’ strangely, don’t know why…
Hold on, hold on…we got some Degraded Audio around here. It sounds Oh, Oh-So-Sonic. The output is muffled. That electric guitar sounds like a Leg Chime. Enough of them Yucky Baritone Tunes. It Nixes Heroics. We need a change, a Mime Ear Joy. Somebody Cram Vocals Ajar! Let Chillness Ring!
Navy Haze all around.
Don’t know if I’m comin’ up or down.
Am I happy with this Altered Brain?
Irksome me, set this Ruin Ablaze.
Navy haze, it’s painful, baby
Something happening, a Clever Treat, maybe?
Ladies and Gentlemen: Jimi John Jake, A Zen Elf Hendrix.
Maybe Navy now can blow my mind.
‘Scuse Me, while I kiss these guys.
40-man roster:
Yo, Toaster, Let’s Kick It!
All right stop, collaborate and listen
Old In Jeans has a brand new invention
Something grabs a hold of me, trades just flow.
All chump playas just have to go.
No Grouchy Sin, Nor Green Sky,
Old In Jeans hits the bull in the eye,
Quick to the point, I’ll give you proof,
We gonna blow the Onion Salsa Roof,
If there was a problem, Yo, I’ll solve it,
Check us out: Vanilla Ice Dept.
Vanilla Ice Dept. Vanilla Ice Dept.
Vanilla Ice Dept. Vanilla Ice Dept.
Take heed, ’cause I’m a lyrical poet
We’re animal fierce in case you didn’t know it
Last year’s chumps were far too nice
Now Rangers got some Jeers Not Lice.
We add Mink Wool Devil, plus A Mean Toad,
Join Bearskin World, kick tail on the road,
I Abuse Rhinos, I Air A Skunk, Too.
Make the other team stink instead of you
After they lose, they’ll have Cried For Raccoons.
Now we Look Meaner, not a moment too soon.
If there was a problem, Yo, I’ll solve it,
Check us out: Vanilla Ice Dept.
Vanilla Ice Dept. Vanilla Ice Dept.
Vanilla Ice Dept. Vanilla Ice Dept.
Yo man — Let’s get out of here! Word to your mother.
40-man roster:
It was an unusual offseason in Oakland. For a change, GM Baby Nellie wasn’t digging deep to replace a traded Humid Snot, or an Ideal Team Jug lost to free agency. Their primary free agents–Better Cat Ghost, Violated Coot, and Buried Our Zeal–added little excitement to the A’s 88-win season in 2005, and will hardly be missed.
The A’s had the unusual luxury of not only keeping their Ritzy Boar, but setting Estonia Ablaze alongside him. The rotation is now incredibly deep: Drench Hair is a whisker away from superstardom, Near Hand‘s stardom is also nearly at hand, while Elton Banjo rocketed through the second half of 2005 as one of the AL’s top pitchers. And I think it’s going to be a long, long time ’til the A’s explore a new closer again. If you have Utter Hotness, what else do you need?
With the pitching staff well-baked, Baby Nellie turned his attention to spicing up offense. If the fiery personality that is Notably Milder can stay cool and not boil over, the A’s attack will be far less bland in 2006. I can understand the skepticism about Fathom Snark‘s health, but any contribution he can make would be icing on the cake.
All these ingredients make a volitile mix. Things could sour quickly if A Panty Joy becomes unhappy about scanty playing time, or if Sick Whiners can’t keep his motormouth shut and complains likewise. However, the A’s think that having too much talent is more a recipe for success than disaster.
40-man roster:
Argued Evil Mirror only walked 61 times last year. That astounds me. He should have been intentionally walked 61 times. I’d much rather face Arrogant Sender or Boiling Enema than stare into the Evil Mirror.
Now Enema has packed his bags, and left behind an even larger hole in the lineup than before. Plan A was to fill that hole with A Punk Looker, but Looker preferred the rockin’ scene in Chicago. Plan B: hope the kids grow up soon.
If Evil Mirror is going to see any pitches at all in 2006, youngsters like Charmless Poland will need to come through with a far more charismatic performance than last year. If Checks Anatomy can find some muscle, it will go a long way. Otherwise, they may find their offense swimming upstream, and be forced to turn to Dreamy Snorkel and Drown and Boo earlier than expected.
Moving Dandier Arts back to center field is wise, but will he continue to dance second on the program, while Damned Kenya is cursed with the ninth slot? This offense can’t afford to waste any more outs. The more people are on base for Evil Mirror, the more chances he’ll have to cause damage.
On the pitching ledger, letting the overhyped Brash Juror Dawn leave was a wise move. Losing Lady Burp, on the other hand, seemed like a more noxious decision, until a bargain VJ Wafer Fee fell into their laps. Now with five solid starters, including No Local Robot and Enjoy Chalk, the rotation smells like a rose.
The relief corps ran out of steam at the end of 2005. Hitless Cods became more hitful, while Cursing Crazier Food tasted bitterness more often than usual. Adding Carrots Coacher and/Or Come, Jr. may help some, but the key to the Angels bullpen success may just be getting more innings out of their starters.
40-man roster:
