Woo!

I've long wanted to blog about baseball, by which I mean I avidly read FJM and thought "hey, wouldn't it be fun to write like that" (ignoring the fact that I cannot write like that). So here's to humble beginnings. And with that:

I hate Robinson Cano.

Seriously.

See, I'm a Red Sox fan, and like any member of The Nation (or fans of just about any other team) I hate the Yankees. But I've tried to come to terms with that. They have endless cash supply and will always field the most impressive group of talent (oh, and Derek Jeter too) and will wind up being World Series favorites every year and we're all jealous of it. That's just how baseball works.

But when they start producing stars through their farm system AND dole out $5,000,000,000,000,000 on free agents then something has gone horribly wrong with the order of the game. (Note: that figure may be exaggerated a bit.) Which is where Robinson Cano fits in. At the tender age of 23, (his second in the majors), he put up an OPS+ of 126. Which is extremely impressive when you consider he walked about -26 times. (Note: that figure may be exaggerated a bit.) If the Yankees can produce players like that, what hope do the Oakland As and Minnesota Twins of the baseball world have? (Or the non-metaphorical Oakland As and Minnesota Twins, for that matter?)

Of course, something miraculous happened. Last year, the goddamn Tampa Bay Rays won the AL pennant and Robinson Cano was basically the worst everyday second baseman in the majors not named Freddy Sanchez. (I could back this up with statistics, but unsubstantiated arguments are basically the point of blogging.) For a brief moment all was right with the world. The looming danger of young, talented, and homegrown Yankee team is hopefully over. Thus us non-Yankee fans can safely ridicule all their young players again*, safe in the knowledge that the most powerful team in baseball cannot have their cake and eat it too.

And thus the non-stop ridicule of Robinson Cano will commence.

(*Note that when I say "all their young players" I really mean "everyone but Phil Coke" since, let's face it, that's the greatest name for a middle reliever since Joe Hey Remember That One Time At Studio 54 pitched three scorless innings for the Giants in 1994 before disappearing in the company of Darryl Strawberry and was never heard from again.)

(Wow, that was an awful joke.)

(Robinson Cano sucks.)