Tag Archives: smells

Gio Wilikers: Gonzalez is Surprisingly Good With Bat and Normally Good With Ball

This sunset is decidedly not a metaphor for the start of baseball season, and is thus useless to me.

This lovely sunset is decidedly not a metaphor for the start of baseball season, and is thus useless to me.

Final Score: Nationals 3, Marlins 0

Belle of the Ball: Gio Gonzalez. Gio clearly knows that nothing dispels allegations of steroid use like a sharp uptick in home run rate.

Smell of the Ball: Ian Desmond. How could anyone other than Desmond receive my first ever Smell of the Ball award? And with an 0-4-with-an-error performance in the game, his pungency was particularly putrid.


Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand, we’re back. Back at Nationals Park, the site of such much joy and pain on a cold October night just under half a year ago. The dull ache of Game 5 was acutely resurrected as I passed through the center field gates, but this time it was accompanied with the promise of another wildly successful season (minus the crushing disappointment at its conclusion, ideally).

Some things at Nationals Park were different, but many more were just the same as I left them. Here’s one thing that was the same: it was still really fucking cold. Honestly, Washington DC, you had six months to come up with some kind of weather that isn’t extremely unpleasant to watch a baseball game in, and you totally failed.

One thing that made this night-after-the-end-of-Passover different from all other nights was that on this night, hot dogs cost $1. I decided to take advantage of the theoretically appealing opportunity at the start of the third inning. Unfortunately, $1 hot dogs must have some kind of universal appeal, because the entirety of Nationals Park decided to avoid all other concession options and flock to the usually-deserted Nats Dogs stand. I waited in that line for three entire innings of fortunately uneventful baseball. Continue reading

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“Happy” Birthday Ian Desmond

Smell yourself. You deserve it.

I hope no one made an “error” in giving you your birthday present.

By which I mean I hope no one gave you anything you like.

UPDATE: We know this was posted several minutes after the end of Ian’s actual birthday, but we’re making like his family and forgetting to wish him a happy birthday on time. –TGP

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DC United as New York Turns in Bullish Performance


“This mirror makes me look 10 years younger!” screamed Jackson, as he frightened a little boy. (AP Photo/Alex Brandon)

Final Score: Nationals 5, Mets 2.

Dame of the Game:

Bryce Harper: 2-4, 2 R, 1 3B, 1 HR, 2 RBI. If Bryce is coming out of his slump, he’s coming out of it in a big way. If he’s not, then the definition of slump has changed.

Shame of the Game:

Jeremy Hefner: Loss, 5 IP, 8 H, 5 ER, 3 K. The Hef really fucked the Mets with this performance. I imagine the Mets now get a centerfold appearance in return.


If there’s anything that can cause severe depression, it’s losing to the Mets. Thankfully, the Nationals seem to have moved past that experience, as they showed up out on the field and won Sunday’s game. I don’t know what helped them move on. Was it anti-depressants? If so I hope they’re legal, or at least that someone was smart enough to pay $10,000 to create a fake website to legitimize them. Was it the fact that Gio Gonzalez is physically incapable of not smiling, and it was contagious amongst his teammates? Almost definitely. Whatever it was, I’m just glad the Nats didn’t take losing to the Mets so hard that they did something to take away the pain that they’d regret. That’s for us to do when Rizzo shuts Strasburg down.

Continue reading

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The Morse Invasion: Nats Conquer Milwaukee Like It’s Iberia in 711 A.D.

I don’t know why this random guy in a Brewers jersey thinks anyone is going to pay $21 to ransom him back from Ron Roenicke. (AP Photo/Tom Lynn)

Final Score: Nationals 11, Brewers 10

Dame of the Game:

Michael Morse: 2-4, HR, 2 R, 4 RBI, BB, K.

To: themilwaukeebrewers@thelowerhalfofthenlcentral.com

Subject: Re: Morse?

Message: No. No remorse.

Shame of the Game:

Ryan Mattheus: 1.2 IP, 4 ER, 5 H, 3 HR. Mattheus entered today’s sausage race as a shit sausage. Man, he was bad.


There are few things in life more satisfying than turning off a terrible baseball game to do something more enjoyable only to turn it on later to discover that while you were away and inwardly conceding defeat, something ridiculously fantastic happened. One of the more satisfying things is actually watching those ridiculously fantastic things happen.

My personal experience with Sunday’s game was the former, but I’ll take it. When I disgustedly moved on with my afternoon, it was 7-3 Brewers in the 7th. This situation produced in me a similar emotion to that given by my subsequent action, removing some mold-covered cheese from my rot-smelling refrigerator. This refrigerator is basically a mold factory–you can’t leave food in there for more than a few minutes or it’ll start crawling with some ungodly pestilence. Sorta like leaving Ryan Mattheus in this game.

When I checked my phone for the score a considerable amount of time later, I naturally assumed the game would be long over, the Nats having settled for a series split–the most mediocre of outcomes against the most mediocre of teams.  When the score appeared as 11-9 Nats in the top of the 11th, I first paused for a few moments to ensure that my score-checking app hadn’t randomly decided to show me the results of a Nats/Brewers game from 2007 or something. But no. It had actually happened. My wrongly-colored sliced cheese had transformed from smelling like death itself to exuding the sweet scent of whatever the Nationals version of this would be. In the metaphor, at least–in real life the cheese still smelled horrible.

At first I wondered things like “how” and “who” and “why” and “will this dramatically alter the course of the future of the universe?” I’d later find out the answers (4 runs in the 8th, 2 in the 9th, 2 in the 11th/Roger Bernadina, Michael Morse, John Axford, and the eminently hateable Jose Veras/because all previous events in history had somehow contributed to predetermining this outcome in ways that are not comprehensible to humans/no), but those didn’t matter. In the end it was just another improbable win for a Nats team that seems to have no regard for probability, morality, or public nudity laws (I assume).

Let’s hope they win a few more so we can have a naked World Series parade in November.

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The Nationals at the Break


This toaster is just like our season; We burnt everyone and we too had the option for frozen, as it applied to our offense at times.

Here we stand at the midway point of the baseball season. Or, if you’re someone like Rich Garces, here we sit. It’s much too tiring to stand up with all that weight. Baseball has reached a point when many people take time to rest and many others take time to analyze each team’s performance to this point. Given I am unemployed and thus have been doing nothing but rest for weeks, I’ll give the latter a shot and look at how the Nationals have done to this point in the season.

Continue reading

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2012 Nationals Player Profile: Danny Espinosa

Danny Espinosa

Danny EspiNOSEa

Danny Espinosa smells a smell

Danny Espinosa smells a man who smells a smell

Smells a smelly smelly man

Smells a manly manly smell

Danny Espinosa smells a Danny Espinosa smells a Danny Espinosa

Danny Espinosa knows a smell

Danny Espinosa knows a man who smells a smell

Knows a smelling swelling man

Smelts a smelling swelling nose

Danny Espinosa knows a Danny Espinosa knows a Danny Espiknowsa Danny Espinosa

Danny Espinosa is a second baseman scented baseman second scented baseman

Danny Espinosa knows a scent of second basemen

Danny Espinosa smells a WIN

Danny Espinosa smells bad.


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