The Pirates lost a 15-inning game in the second-most embarrassing way possible

Hello, baseball friends. Did you know that a position player didn’t pitch last week? And did you know we’re in the middle of the longest position-player-pitching drought since the end of May?

Did you know that the last position player who pitched an inning before that May drought began was Kendrys Morales?

That’s right. The same Morales who hit a home run in seven straight games last week.

Makes you think.

...

Actually, I was kind of hoping you would find what’s interesting about that connection and email me.

Alright, fine, I’m not Jayson Stark, and I don’t know how he makes it look so easy. But that’s why he has his column of Incredibly Interesting Baseball Factlets and I’m content with this Incredibly Dumb Baseball Column of Dumb Baseball, which I bring to you every week.

Are you ready for some incredibly dumb baseball? Because we’ll start with the dumbest baseball thing of the week and work our way up from there:

Over the weekend, the Pirates and Brewers wore uniforms that looked like this:

Quit screwing with the television set, Pa. You don’t know what those dials do, so I don’t know why you would fiddle with those dials, so SIT DOWN.

This was the dumbest Pirates-related thing over the last week. I’m absolutely convinced that the pitcher is wearing overalls or a jumpsuit in that screenshot, and I will not be swayed by alternate angles. This is the dumbest baseball thing of the season, Pirates-related or not.

But if you’re looking for the second-dumbest Pirates-related thing of this season, please turn your attention to how they lost on Friday.

Clay Holmes walked Jordan Lyles, a pitcher with a .123 career batting average and .353 OPS, to load the bases with two outs. The baseball gods immediately filed an injunction, and a grand jury unanimously agreed that the pitcher who took the walk needed to score a winning run. It was the dumbest baseball thing possible, and I’m torn between absolutely loving it and feeling bad for everyone involved.

This was just the seventh time since 1925 that a pitcher had a lead in extra innings and walked another pitcher. This topic appeals to me because one of my least favorite baseball games of all time is included in this list. It’s the game that made me snap.

The only other pitchers to walk an opposing pitcher with the lead in extra innings with two outs?

Sandy Koufax.

What I’m trying to tell you is that you should buy Clay Holmes stock.

He’s basically Sandy Koufax.

Our question today is a simple but important one: Is walking a pitcher with the lead in extra innings the most embarrassing thing that can happen to a baseball player? I’m talking within the realm of normal baseball. We can’t include extremely specific scenarios, like a puppy coming up behind a first baseman, jumping up to bite his bottom, and hanging there like a baby crocodile as the first baseman runs around screaming and waving his hands above his head. That would be more embarrassing than a pitcher walking another pitcher with the lead and two outs in extra innings.

No, we’re talking just regular baseball plays. They can be rare, but they have to involve normal parts of the game.

Regular errors? Happen all the time. A meltdown of errors on a national stage, like Dan Uggla in the All-Star Game? Getting close, but then you could just infinity-plus-one the errors to make your scenario more and more ridiculous, which seems like cheating.

My theory is this: What Holmes did is the second-most embarrassing thing that can happen on a baseball diamond. The first is one of these:

I would argue that the off the head part is a little too rare and specific to count as the winner, so we’ll go with “any time an outfielder helps a home run over the fence.” That’s followed by “pitcher walks another pitcher to lose the game.” After that is probably “fielder settles under a fly ball, and his pants fall down to reveal that he’s wearing boxer shorts with hearts on them.”

Unless that’s too specific.

Fine, then I’ll go with tripping as you leave the dugout as the third-most embarrassing. But walking the pitcher is up there. Walking the pitcher and losing the game because of it? Oh, man, is that up there. It’s closer to allowing a home run off your head than you think.

Oh, what’s this, Darrell? Hmm, just a 13-time Gold Glove winner trying to catch a ball with his bare hands and screwing it up, which proves that it’s pretty hard to do, and you can stop roasting me now.

Pudge Rodriguez is the guy with his back toward the camera, and not only does he miss it, Darrell, but he seems to miss it entirely, with his hands far apart as if he were expecting a punt. This is because it’s mentally hard to move from passive spectator to active participant, especially when the physical task required is something you were never asked to do in the actual sport of baseball, Darrell. If I were wearing a glove and it clanked out, sure, roast me. But then you would have roasted me for wearing a glove to a baseball game. There’s no winning for me, here.

So keep telling the story at parties just to embarrass me, Darrell. Keep telling yourself that if you were in my seat, you would totally have went home with a souvenir. But here’s a Gold Glove winner — thirteen danged times over — whiffing on a ball with his bare hands.

And Pudge probably wasn’t even four beers in.

It’s hard to catch a baseball with your bare hands from 100 feet in the air when you aren’t expecting it, Darrell.

Please stop roasting me.

Just a reminder that there are a lot of players with long hair in the majors, but none of them make it work as classically or as organically as Dereck Rodriguez.

My only request is that if he has his dad’s hairline, that he keeps the long hair in back. Baseball needs more skullets.

Possibly. This is not confirmed. But in this article about the A’s plans for a new ballpark, there is some jargon that I don’t understand, and I’ve decided that I’m going to fill in the blanks myself.

The Oakland A’s have hired the cutting-edge Danish architectural firm, Bjarke Ingels Group (BIG), to lead the design process for a new ballpark and surrounding development.

The firm, which describes its design approach as “pragmatic utopian,” will oversee planning for two possible sites

Alright, now, if “pragmatic utopian” is a well-known and clearly defined way to describe a specific type of architecture, like “neoclassical art,” don’t tell me. Let me wear my idiocy like a bathrobe. But what I’m seeing here are two words.

Pragmatic, as in practical. Sensible. Useful in ordinary circumstances.

Utopian, as in the ultimate ideal. Perfect. Without flaws.

Pragmatic utopian = Pneumatic tubes that will take you directly from the entrance to your seat. Foomp.

Is it dangerous? No, this is the future. Is it for everybody, even those with motion sickness? Probably not, but the tubes are self-cleaning. Is it pragmatic? Boy, is it. Is it utopian? And how!

Originally this section was going to include edible seats, which seemed both pragmatic and utopian, but then i realized you would be eating something that had touched someone else’s butt, which is decidedly not utopian.

Anyway, after careful consideration, it appears as if my utopian ballpark would be designed by Willy Wonka, which doesn’t seem pragmatic. This is why the A’s hire professionals, people. And I can’t wait to see what they come up with. Other than the pneumatic tubes.

This is Ronald Acuña, Jr. hitting a home run against the Marlins:

It’s not as iconic as Jose Bautista’s bat flip, no. The stakes were lower, and the circumstances were different. Still, you have the emotion of a player who just did something that had to have felt INCREDIBLY SATISFYING, but it’s a controlled, measured emotion. If I hit a long leadoff home run against the same team that plunked me for no good reason and started a kerfuffle when I was 20? I would have pretended the bat was a rifle and walked with it over my shoulder like a Buckingham Palace guard all the way around the bases.

Not Acuña, talented beyond his years and comfortable in his own skin. Head down, the beginnings of an unrealized smirk, and a utilitarian flip, as if to say, “I won’t be needing this anymore. My job here is done.”

It’s a picture that tells you a lot. That Acuña can hit dingers. That he can control his emotions. That he’s kind of a badass. All of this is true. And all Don Mattingly can do in the background is say, dang, there goes one of the most exciting baseball players we’ll ever see.

Alright, so the Khris Davis meme didn’t take off, but this one is absolutely going to rule the internet.

First, the blanks:

Second, my meme idea. This is for when you have an unpopular opinion and lose your confidence when called out on it. Like so:

See? You think you’re being an edgy contrarian, but when you’re called out on it, you know you’re being a little silly.

I actually believe one of these opinions, and I’m not telling which one.

Of course, it’s easy to overdo it, so respect the simplicity of the meme.

Keep it simple, stupid. And enjoy this blank because I’ve finally created the meme that everyone is going to be using. I did it, Mom.

This is what you call ........................... Servais journalism.

McGwire
25 AB this week
404 AB for the season

6 HR this week
53 HR for the season

.400/.531/1.200 this week
.295/.475/.730 for the season

Sosa
28 AB this week
506 AB for the season

4 HR this week
51 for the season

.250/.276/.679 this week
.310/.379/.648 for the season

DINGERS. WE HAVE FRESH, HOT DINGERS.

McGwire hit two home runs in a game against Sosa and the Cubs, and then he hit one in both games of a doubleheader against the Mets. McGwire ended the week on pace for 70 home runs, and Sosa ended the week on pace for 66.

On-pace stats work, everyone. They’re scientific, and we should use them all the time.

At this point, the world is delirious with McGwire-Sosa fever, and it’s just the best. There was just about a dinger every day, and the world seemed so danged alive.

You’ll understand in the great Ronald Acuña/Seth Beer chase of ‘23.

A man sitting alone on a bench in a Greyhound station. He’s crying. Sobbing. You approach him, concerned and a little scared, to ask him what’s wrong.

He looks up, eyes raw, tears streaming down his face, and he extends his pointer finger to touch your nose.

“Boop,” he says. Then he resumes his sobbing, which is somehow louder than before.

You turn around to see if this is some sort of prank, but when you turn back, the man is gone. Now you’re wondering if he ever existed in the first place. You wonder if you’ve gone mad. You dream about the incident for years.

Years later, you see a link to a subreddit dedicated to the urban legend of the Cryin’ Booper. You don’t click the link.

You just look out the window and stare into the rain.