Shohei Ohtani is pretty good, Andrew McCutchen is a delight, and Tim Tebow is in this headline for SEO purposes

Can you follow everything that happens in baseball every week? Man, I sure can’t. So every week, I dig back through the archives and tweets and videos and recaps and look for interesting baseball things to share with you on Monday. The best part is that I’ll miss a whole bunch, which is definitely a feature, not a bug. It wouldn’t be baseball if a week’s worth of action could be explained in a few hundred words.

But there are some baseball things that are impossible to miss. Here, then, are those baseball things. While the categories and sections will rotate from week to week, the first one will be an absolute constant. This first section will always posit that ...

Baseball friends, I promise you that this section will not be a secret way of sneaking Giants-related content into this weekly recap. There were not a lot of times that I watched the Giants last year and thought, “Yes, baseball is good, actually.”

While I’m anticipating a much better season, it’s likely that they are the sixth- or seventh-best team in the National League if everything goes right. This section almost certainly will not feature the Giants very often.

But, sweet Njörðr, look at this at-bat from Andrew McCutchen in the bottom of the 14th inning:

I’ve been hard on MLB Advanced Media in the past because of how they’ve intentionally limited how some of their videos can be shared. Looking for something older than two years ago can be a nightmare. Basically, they never think about me, the baseball writer who needs to lazily embed something whenever he needs it.

But this video is exactly what you need to understand that baseball is good, actually. Someone in charge took this entire 12-pitch at-bat and presented it unedited, allowing you to drink in the mounting tension and expectations, and it was a brilliant decision. It’s not just that McCutchen hit a walk-off home run in the bottom of the 14th; it’s that he directed the whole thing like Kubrick, piece by piece, setting up the reveal at the end.

I’m a sucker for a lot of baseball things, but I’m really a sucker for two very specific baseball things:

This at-bat had it all, really. It started with a muffed strike call, and it quickly went against McCutchen after Wilmer Font fuzzed him with a wicked fastball running in on his hands. If he popped up the next pitch, nobody would have blamed him. Instead, he turned into a living Rocky IV montage, fouling pitches off again and again and ...

One thing that I love about baseball is the idea that all of those foul balls are examples of the hitter failing. Font’s job was to make the hitter not do what he wanted with the ball. McCutchen’s job was to hit the ball somewhere where it couldn’t be caught. Framed like that, Font won. He got McCutchen to do something he wasn’t trying to do.

Instead, it ended with McCutchen hitting a dinger and reacting with a broken water main of emotion that had been building pressure since the first pitch. It was mostly perfect.

And maybe — maybe — the fact that it was against the Dodgers in the 14th inning will color my judgment just a little bit. But I’d like to think that if McCutchen were on the Twins, and he did this against the Rays, it would be just as notable.

Because look at that museum-quality at-bat. Carve pictographs of that at-bat into the side of an interstellar probe and let alien civilizations learn about baseball.

Well, this section sure feels a lot different this week.

Last week, it was still okay to be cautiously optimistic about Shohei Ohtani. He had one quality start under his belt, albeit with a ton of strikeouts. He was 1-for-5. This all came after a rough spring. So you’ll forgive me if prudence was the better part of valor in this case.

And then Ohtani started firing lighting bolts out of his eyes and demanding our fealty. Yes, yes, we cried. We are yours to do with as you wish. We’re so sorry, Shohei. How could we have been so blind?

The Shohei-o-meter just seven days ago was stuck on “timid,” and we spent an hour on the phone with tech support trying to get it unstuck.

Shohei-o-meter: half-Luis Castillo, half-Gregor Blanco

See, he was a wild, unproven fireballer with a .200 average, so I thought ... look, forget it. I was wrong.

Let’s update that Shohei-o-meter:

Shohei-o-meter: half-Tim Lincecum in his prime, half-Bryce Harper

THIS IS WHAT WE WERE PROMISED.

Deep breaths. Stay with me. But it’s completely okay to freak out.

This doesn’t mean that we’ll keep getting it all year. He could be half-Vince Velasquez, half-Eric Thames, where the early returns are drowned by a tidal wave of baseball being extremely hard.

Still, if you can’t get excited about this fastball-splitter combination, you hate baseball and are already googling “2019 Oscar frontrunners.” Look at this marvelous baseball player:

That is peak Tim Lincecum. I saw it. I lived it. I breathed it. He doesn’t know exactly where the ball is going, but he knows two things: The fastball goes fast and the splitter goes prrrowwwwww down into the abyss. If those two things can hold steady, he isn’t just a Rookie of the Year candidate. He’s a Cy Young candidate.

Maybe we should see him against another team that isn’t the A’s before getting nutty, but it’s worth pointing out that the Athletics are stuffed with solid hitters. It’s possible that they’re especially susceptible to splitters that go prrrowwwwww down into the abyss. All of this still might be a mirage.

Wouldn’t it be a lot cooler if it weren’t, though? Wouldn’t it be a lot cooler if he were a Cy Young candidate every year with a 900 OPS?

It would. It absolutely would.

The best part is that I don’t even have to mention the three home runs in three consecutive games to make you impressed about Shohei Ohtani. Because peak Tim Lincecum was just about the most exciting thing I’ve ever seen, so if he’s already that, he’s a baseball legend.

Ohtani hitting dinger after dinger, though, is the kind of thing that’s going to melt our hearts and follow this story wherever it goes. He’s even better than advertised right now. That’s probably not going to last, but what if it does?

It is high! It is far! It is gone!

Sho-hei can you see? By the ball’s distant flight!

What so proudly we hailed, at that pitch’s last gleaming!

it’s so cold in here, is anyone else cold, i’m freezing, i’m not proud of this, please get me a blanket, why is it so cold

aw raspberries

This was $1 plus shipping, and I bought it for a couple reasons. The first is Ted Williams. The second is that Ted Williams is about to hit Mike Epstein with a bat because of his sideburns.

Is it possible that Williams had such incredible bat control that he could can hit someone with a bat and make it hurt, but not incapacitate them or cause lingering damage? Is it possible that he could hit someone with a bat just hard enough to make their sideburns fall off but cause no other injuries?

No, it is not possible. It is absolutely guaranteed. He could hit you with a bat on the back of your ankle and make you sterile for exactly eight years if you wanted. He was just that good. And if you think that’s hyperbole, look what popped up when I was looking for the above image on my computer:

When you opened that box, Ted Williams would pop out and hit you with a bat until you were temporarily sterile. And you were fine with it. This is how things were done back then.

Also, I think it’s fine and normal to have a file called “Ted Williams condoms.jpeg” on your computer and not remember that it exists. It is absolutely fine and normal.

It’s the 20th anniversary of Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa transfixing the country with their historic chase. It’s also the 20th anniversary of:

McGwire: 21 AB, 0 HR (4 total), .333/.483/.429
Sosa: 27 AB, 1 HR (2 total), .400/.444/.600

The race is still nothing at this point. Sosa had a hot week, but he had seven singles and two doubles mixed in. McGwire was hitting like an especially focused Chone Figgins.

Later in this season, enough baseball things would happen to make someone decide to make a Mark McGwire/Sammy Sosa diecast semi-truck.

At this point in the 1998 season, though, they’re just a couple of baseball players, doing normal things. Sometimes they hit the ball, and sometimes they don’t. That’s how you play this wacky game, ha ha. No big deal.

Also, because of this stupid article, I finally bought one of those trucks on eBay. I hope you’re happy.

The U.S. Olympic men’s curling team got to throw out the first pitch for the Twins’ Opening Day. That’s incredibly regional and exciting and regionally exciting. It’s also exciting for the rest of the country because, heck yeah, gold medal curlers. It’s an honor for them, and it’s an honor for us.

What could possibly go wrong?

Oh, noooooooooooo.

nooooooooooooooo

The good news it that we get to study this baseball thing. For it started with such hope and optimism.

Anyone can throw a first pitch in a baseball game. But it takes a special person (or group of people) to get the enter-from-center-field-to-throw-a-first-pitch treatment. Gold medal winners get that treatment. The downside, though, is that expectations are incredibly unfair. This isn’t something that’s blurting out of the loudspeaker while people are finding their seats. This is something that’s supposed to be watched.

If you watch the video, at 2:17, the guy in the middle, Tyler George, turns to his teammate and says, “Ready?” He’s fired up.

EDUARDO ESCOBAR: [record scratch] Yep, that’s me. You’re probably wondering how I ended up in this situation.

You can see how it’s George who screws this all up. He throws the ball first, and he almost kills Tyler Kinley, there only because of the Byzantine red tape of the Rule 5 Draft. Because Kinley has to protect his face, the second-from-left pitcher looks much worse than he otherwise might have, though it’s not like he did himself any favors. The guy on the right throws a gull-killer that almost leaves orbit, too. It’s an incredible mess.

For my money, though, I’m most impressed by the commitment of the fellow who decided to “curl” the baseball and roll it to his catcher. If they had all done this, it would have been funny! Whimsical! And I’ll bet that idea was floated, but I’ll bet George was like, oh, heck no, I get one first pitch in my life, and I’m gonna chuck it.

Because there was exactly one guy rolling the ball to home plate, though, it looked bizarre beyond words. It looked like he was screwing up almost as much as everyone else, even though he’s just doing a bit.

Please acknowledge the calm, collected first pitch of John Shuster, the captain of the medal-winning team. He’s the one on the left, and he threw a perfect pitch that absolutely no one will remember.

“What the crap was that?”, he asks. You’ll notice that there are only four curlers in this picture. That’s because George is already off screen, apologizing profusely for winning a gold medal for screwing up a first pitch.

But I saw you, John. You did well. Proud of you on several levels. Thank you for representing our country. Thank you for knowing how to throw a baseball.

If I can be an 11th-grader giving a presentation in front of the class for a moment, according to Wikipedia, “a spoonerism is an error in speech in which corresponding consonants, vowels, or morphemes are switched between two words in a phrase.” So instead of “Joe Maddon,” for example, you would say, “Moe Jaddon” and laugh for some reason.

On baseball Twitter, they are very popular and obnoxious but also popular. Every week, I would like to share a baseball spoonerism with you.

But if I’m going to start doing this, I need to start with a bang. I can’t just give you a B-minus spoonerism that I’ve been sitting on for a couple months. I need something big.

Allow me to present ...

I think the important thing to remember is that a cat pooper isn’t a cat that poops. You wouldn’t need to single out a cat for pooping by calling it a cat pooper. They all do it. It’s their thing, man.

A cat pooper has to be, by definition, someone who consumes cats and ... well, you know.

Anyway, the important part to remember is that this section has started out incredibly stupid, and I promise you that every week is only downhill from here.

Used to be that I would spend a lot of time digging through the bowels of the internet looking for stuff to put on on Baseball Nation under the heading of “Internet Christmas for Baseball Nerds.” It was just baseball esoterica from throughout the history of the sport, no big deal. Like this book from Johnny Evers from 100 years ago, in which he basically invented modern defensive statistics.

Anyway, this installment comes to you by way of the Library of Congress, which decided to publish a treasure trove of Branch Rickey papers. If you’re a true nerd, you’ll enjoy idly leafing through them, like me. But if you want a hot sample, I’m partial to this one:

Man.

If there’s a happy ending to this story, it’s that Joe Adcock had a 133 OPS+ over the next three seasons, even as he was older and injury-plagued.

Still, that scouting report haunts me. One day, someone will write “not desirable as a gift” about me, and they’ll be absolutely right. I’ll have earned it.

I’m not sure what happened to make Travis Shaw accost veteran umpire Biff Tannen with such venom that someone in an Old Navy hoodie had to come get him, but that’s okay. I don’t want to know. I’m satisfied with the image of an umpire living his best life in the face of a baseball player who is very, very upset for whatever reason.

BRIAN O’NORA: That’s right. Fleetwood Mac’s best album is Tusk.

TRAVIS SHAW: oy, mate, what’d you say?

I don’t think Travis Shaw is from Sunderland, but we can’t rule it out. Anyway, I’m in love with this baseball picture. Look at the disdain on O’Nora’s face! It’s absolutely withering. He does not care what Shaw has to say, and that is probably the best default position for an umpire to take.

See, it’s not just that Yoshihisa Hirano is sharing his baseball butt with the world. It’s the Getty-supplied caption that accompanies the picture:

PHOENIX, AZ - APRIL 03: Yoshihisa Hirano #66 of the Arizona Diamondbacks delivers an eighth inning pitch against the Los Angeles Dodgers at Chase Field

[lowers sunglasses until they slide off the tip of my nose]

Man oh man, I gotta see this guy pitch.

First at-bat in Double-A where he probably doesn’t belong and it’s a dinger. You might be impressed by Tebow’s incredibly respectful run around the bases. For my money, though, I can’t get enough of the pitcher checking a nonexistent runner at second base twice before he throws the pitch.

Edit: There was a runner on second, but you just can’t see him because the lead was so big. I’m bad and dumb, and Teddy Stankiewicz is better at baseball than I’ll ever be at anything. Apologies. It sure would have been funny, though?

Minor league baseball: where everyone is still trying to figure this crap out. Put it on a t-shirt, and send me three of them, please.

Man, this is a weird one to end on. We’re not really going to spend all season following Tim Tebow in Double-A, are we?

No. Because at some point, we’ll have to follow him in the majors.

Until next week!