Cameron Clark

First I should probably explain who Cameron Clark is. From his website (if you click on his name) “Cameron Clark is a below-average pitcher on a below-average team…” He’s fictitious and he plays for the fictitious Cancun Horror baseball team in the Bring the Heat league.

How this all works is that a bunch of us get together three times a week and one of the league commissioners runs ten days worth of simulation using Out of the Park 6.5a. Scores of major league games are posted to an AIM chat room as well as the pitchers of record in those games. After one sim, Clark’s handler commented that Clark’s ERA was going to go up after a particularly bad start. I don’t know exactly what he said but it made me think of the Folsom Prison Blues by Johnny Cash. The first line is what came to me and I had to go check his record for the rest of it. Chandler is Jason Chandler winner of last year’s Cy Young.

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Clark’s Song

My ERA is rising
My record’s seven-six
I have three no-decisions
that factor in the mix
And I’ve always been a starer
Don’t put me in the pen
I know I lost tonight’s game
But I will win again!

My ratings show I’m ready
And I’m improving still
It isn’t just my pitching-
It’s my character and will
Though I’m not as good as Chandler,
I can outpitch the rest
I’m nowhere close to perfect,
But I will do my best!

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Oswalt is Dealt

They traded Roy Oswalt, who’s one of my favorites,
A could-have-been-franchise but he asked to leave.
While I understand it, I don’t have to like it–
I may be unhappy but I’m not naive.

They brought us a pitcher who spent the year injured.
How well he’s recovered, we don’t really know.
Tonight he’ll be facing the Brew-crew in Houston–
I guess we’ll discover how well he can throw.

I’m not too impressed with the minor-league shortstop,
Whose forty-two errors just boggled my mind.
The number’s so high that it’s not on the website.
An empty placeholder is all that you’ll find.

In Triple-A Round Rock you’ll see the first baseman,
Though they say Lance Berkman has nothing to fear.
The kid bats three hundred to Berkman’s two-fifty.
So who’ll be the starting first-baseman next year?

The deal’s completed and some folks are happy.
And others complain that the Astros were had.
But good play erases a lot of bad feelings,
And if they start winning, the fans will be glad.

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Roy Oswalt was traded for J.A. Happ and two minor-leaguers. One Of the minor-leaguers was swapped with the Jays. So the Astros have Happ, a shortstop named Jonathan Villar (who really did make 42 errors, Matt Thomas said so on 790 the Sports Animal) and Brett Wallace, the future first baseman for the Astros.

According to the Minor League Baseball Wallace is hitting .301 for the Las Vegas 51’s though he’s now listed with the Round Rock Express where he’ll be preparing for his new role. Berkman, according to astros.com is batting .245. Now I realize that Wallace is in AAA, but ya gotta figure that even adjusted that’s better than Berkman.

Now, about Villar and the 42 errors. Click here and see the stats for the Lexington Legends–Villar’s new team. Notice the error column. There is a space for Villars’ errors. Not a 0, not a 42, a space.  Matt Thomas don’t lie so I know what number should be there.  And that’s for this season, folks.  In 100 (not rounded) games.  That’s almost one every other game.

I’m really not as down on Happ as the song implies. He just hasn’t pitched much and only one game since he got back from injury. So the Astros are getting a pig in a poke.  He was a contender for Rookie of the Year, but I don’t know that being first among seconds is a sufficient recommendation.

I think good play erases bad feelings and it’s entirely possible that this turns out to be a good thing for the Astros. But only time will tell.

The Guy with the Slider

In to close, bringing the heat
Brad Lidge throws in the 90s
Philly fans are all up on their feet
Want to see him record the last outs

Thinking heat, what do they do?
Take their swing much too early
But Lidge comes in with the breaking stuff too
‘Cause the heater’s not what he’s about

CHORUS:
He’s the guy with the slider
Watch the arc of the flight
Darting down as the hitter is retired
With the top of their lineup
In to face him tonight
And they whiff when they’re facing the guy
With the slider

Batter up, stand at the plate
Bradley throws him a heater
No longer early, now his swing is too late
And it’s strike three and he sits back down

CHORUS:

Got it done, finished the game
Got the save and the glory
In the future, they’ll remember his name
As a man in the pitching elite

CHORUS:

The guy with the slider  (repeat)

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I actually wrote this awhile ago but am posting it now. It’s to the tune of Survivor’s “Eye of the Tiger” and Dave Weingart, who was the filk guest of honor at ApolloCon this year said it was “brilliant”. I’m not sure about that, but I really enjoyed writing it.

Imperfection

They say no one’s perfect–not even in baseball.
But twice it has happened in May, twenty-ten.
Roy Halladay did it, likewise Dallas Braden;
And on June the second, it happened again.

A pitcher was perfect, he sat down each batter;
Three up and three down for eight innings of ball.
It would have been nine but for one tiny problem–
Jim Joyce at first base didn’t make the right call.

For twenty-six outs, Galarraga was perfect;
The next man to face him was called safe at first.
Of all blown calls in the annals of baseball,
This blunder has got to be one of the worst.

It isn’t official to look at a replay
Unless there’s a question of home run or not.
Until there’s a change in the MLB rulebook,
The umpire’s best judgment is all that we’ve got.

They say no one’s perfect–not even in baseball
But twice it has happened in May, twenty-ten.
Roy Halladay did it, likewise Dallas Braden;
And on June the second, it happened again.

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This is a lament. It can be sung to the tune of “Streets of Laredo”, “The Ash Grove”, “Generations of Change” or the tune I use, which is When I was on Horseback as recorded by Steeleye Span on their Ten Man Mop album.

I hope to have one of my standard recorded-on-my-phone sound files up later today.

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Okay, it’s here.

Utility Infielder

(can be sung to the tune of “The Streets of Laredo” or  “The Ash Grove” but I prefer “Generations of Change”)

I am a switch hitter, but don’t have much power
I bat in the pinch from the left or the right.
Defensive replacement at second or shortstop
Whatever, wherever you need me tonight

CHORUS:
I wait in the dugout, the bench my position
My jersey displaying my number and name
And when  I am needed, for batwork or glovework
I’m ready and eager to get in the game

I’ll bunt for a single and then steal second
And then go to third on the the sacrifice fly
There are plenty of ways I can cross the plate safely
An error, a balk or a pitch gone awry

CHORUS:

My glove is well-oiled, my bat at the ready
I practice my hitting, take infield drills
Though I don’t play often, I do it with vigor
Utility player still honing my skills.

CHORUS:

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I wrote this for all the guys who wait on the bench. Not good enough to start but good enough to play. Whether they’re used as defensive replacements or pinch hitters/runners, they are important to the team, but sometimes overlooked.

This was something I wrote for my simulation baseball role-playing league, Bring the Heat. In BTH, I have a player who was not good enough and so I wrote this for him. He’s young and would have been in AAA except it was the beginning of the league and warm bodies were needed on the bench. He became big-league roster-filler, a utility MI. Now, he’s starting shortstop for the Cancun Horror, a “rebuilding” team which is a polite way to say they suck.

You Waivered Me Bye-Bye

I know I wasn’t hitting well at just .141
When I went oh-for-twenty, I figured I was done.
My defense always sparkles; I flash the leather fine.
But I can’t seem to get my bat above Mendoza’s line.

And now you’ve waivered me bye-bye
And sent me on my way.
You’re bringing up some guy
Who’s hittin’ well in triple-A.
You know I always try
To look at things your way.
But now you’ve waivered me bye-bye
And sent me on my way.

I’m thirty-four years old now, and I cannot pretend
I didn’t see this coming until it reached the end.
No, I won’t cause a ruckus, I’ll take it like a man.
I may be past my prime but I can still play in Japan.

And now you’ve waivered me bye-bye
And sent me on my way.
You’re bringing up some guy
Who’s hittin’ well in triple-A.
You know I always try
To look at things your way.
But now you’ve waivered me bye-bye
And sent me on my way.

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Kaz Matsui was put on waivers. He really was batting .141 and he really did go 0-fer in his last twenty at-bats. I stole the chorus from a song I wrote for Brian Hunter in 2003 when he was waived.

Audio (.3gp)— standard disclaimers (it was recorded on my phone, I’m not a professional singer, it’s a capella, etc.).

Strike ‘im Out Johnny

Fire that fastball over the plate
Strike ‘im out Johnny, strike ‘im out, hey!
Radar gun says it hit ninety-eight
Strike ‘im out Johnny, strike ‘im out, hey!

Refrain

And it’s one-two-three, strike ‘im out Johnny!
Strike ‘im out Johnny, strike ‘im out, hey!
And it’s one-two-three, strike ‘im out Johnny!
Strike ‘im out Johnny, strike ‘im out, hey!

Throw him that splitter, drop it on down
Strike ‘im out Johnny, strike ‘im out, hey!
He says he checked, but he went around
Strike ‘im out Johnny, strike ‘im out, hey!

Refrain

Remember to throw ‘im that four-seamer high
Strike ‘im out Johnny, strike ‘im out, hey!
No one can hit it but they always try
Strike ‘im out Johnny, strike ‘im out, hey!

Refrain

He swings and he gets a small piece of it
Strike ‘im out Johnny, strike ‘im out, hey!
A foul tip into our own catcher’s mitt
Strike ‘im out Johnny, strike ‘im out, hey!

Refrain

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This is a pitching shanty. It’s based on the sea shanties that sailors would sing as they did the group-work on the ship. They’re work-songs basically, designed to keep everyone in synch.

Listen to it here. Standard disclaimers apply.

Infield Fly

This is a parody of “Blue-Tail Fly” aka “Jimmie Crack Corn”

Atlanta Braves and New York Mets
A game I never will forget
Where something really went awry
The Braves didn’t know the infield fly

Chorus:
Runners advance at their own risk
Runners advance at their own risk
Runners advance at their own risk
The batter’s always out

Pagan at second, Castillo first
Reyes popped it up, then cursed
The umpire pointed to the sky
Signaling the infield fly

Chorus

Infante got in Chipper’s way
So he couldn’t make the play
The runners ran and this is why–
The umpire called the infield fly

Chorus

Catcher threw it to first base
The batter’s out in any case
They didn’t know that–my oh my
They need to learn the infield fly

Chorus

The base coach told Pagan to go
He ran home and beat the throw
Mets scored a run, that ain’t no lie
Because they knew the infield fly

Chorus

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This is, to me, mind-boggling. According to Wikipedia, the infield fly rule has been around for about 150 years (since the 1880s). I never played baseball but I know the rule. If it’s popped up on the infield and the umpire thinks it would be caught with normal effort and there’s a force at 3B/home, he invokes the rule by raising his arm. The batter is automatically out, the runners can advance as on any fly ball, at their risk.

I just find it astonishing that guys in the business of playing baseball don’t know the rule.   I’m an income tax preparer during the “tax season”  and to me that’s like being unaware of  deductions one can take on Schedule A such as charity miles driven or sales tax/state income tax.

No sound bite today; for some reason this tune plays perfectly in my head but doesn’t come out my mouth correctly.

Lefty Reliever

This is a parody of “White Collar Holler” by Nigel Russell (often mis-attributed to Stan Rogers who recorded it and who has written lots of awesome stuff)

I never start a ballgame, I come on in relief
An inning here or there, oh yeah, my outings are brief
I’m waiting in the bullpen until I get the call
I go out to the mound and then he hands me the ball
And it’s oh yeah, I can do it
Blow it on by
Nothing in the world makes me feel as great
As whiffing a great slugger when he comes to the plate

Oh, I can get out righties when I take to the hill
But the lefty-lefty matchup always gives them a thrill
I have a wicked curveball and my slider has bite
My heater clocks at ninety-two, I’m doin’ all right
And it’s oh yeah, I can do it
Blow it on by
Nothing in the world makes me feel as great
As whiffing a great slugger when he comes to the plate

The hitter takes a swing and only comes up with air
The tying run at second base is left stranded there
They call in a pinch hitter and they bid me adieu
And I head off to the showers ’cause my evening is through
And it’s oh yeah, I can do it
Blow it on by
Nothing in the world makes me feel as great
As whiffing a great slugger when he comes to the plate

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This is for every lefty reliever who’s ever struck out the side. If a lefty starter can face righties, so can a lefty reliever and that’s one of my peeves–the whole concept of lefty specialist. On the other hand, it keeps some lefties employed past their sell-by dates. No names because it’s been my perception that these “veteran lefties” have just as much trouble getting the lefties out as the righty pitchers do.

I have a treat.  This Lefty Reliever link is to me singing the song. Disclaimers abound.  I’m not a professional singer, this is acapella on my phone and … stuff.

Ridin’ Pine

I thought I’d be the regular, startin’ ev’ry game.
Each night I’d check the lineup, lookin’ for my name.
I didn’t swing the bat well, and now I’ve come to find
The manager has got me ridin’ pine
Ridin’ pine, ridin’ pine,
I wonder if I’ll get some playin’ time.
I didn’t swing the bat well, and now I’ve come to find
The manager has got me ridin’ pine.

He keeps on hittin’ better, improvin’ ev’ry day.
If this keeps up I’ll never get another chance to play
And now even his glove work is lookin’ mighty fine
It looks like I’ll be stuck here ridin’ pine
Ridin’ pine, ridin’ pine,
I wonder if I’ll get some playin’ time.
And now even his glove work is lookin’ mighty fine
It looks like I’ll be stuck here ridin’ pine.

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I wrote this for Morgan Ensberg early in my career. I’m not going to lie and say that Ensberg was my favorite player (nope, that would be Jason Lane). He was *one of* my favorites though and I had a personal dislike for the guy who was getting the playing time. No reason, it was totally irrational.

Anyway, Ensberg was polishing the bench more that I liked and I felt sorry for him. And the other had just had a couple of games where he actually flashed some leather. So, I wrote this. It has music, too, but I think I’ve forgotten the melody.

I was reminded of it by a comment he made on his blog. So I sent it to him. His comment:

That sounds about right. nice work.