Monday, October 27, 2014

A Little Touched

I guess you’d have to be a little touched to stand up there with a hard rock coming at you at 99 miles per hour from 60 feet 6 inches away and with only a little piece of wood to defend yourself. 

But, then again, I guess you’d have to be even a little more touched to be the one throwing that little rock and then having it come back to you at 122. Sure enough, most of these lunatics are indeed pitchers.

Not too bad. In fact, I’m not sure Jim if is a little touched or just really, really happy.

Jim Kern’s been here before, sporting a slightly different look. I shared his stats in that post, but didn’t mention that Jim is quite an interesting fellow. To wit:

  • His nickname was “the Amazing Emu”
  • He effectively got himself traded outta Cincinnatti by growing a scraggly beard (and, thus, violating their “no facial hair” rule)
  • He became an outdoor guide when he retired

You’ve also gotta check out this great – and very cute – autograph story involving Jim.

This shot was taken right before Chris climbed up the tower and shot all those people.

Chris Knaap’s been here before, where we caught him looking more like an extremely dorkily dressed accountant. I shared his stats there, and – to tell you the truth – there ain’t a whole lot else to say about ol’ Chris. Oh, wait a sec … He was 6’5”.

Jim Roland’s another repeat offender. He, too, had a very different look in his other post – in particular, Jim looked really, really stoopit.  Not a lot out there on ol’ Jim either, though you may enjoy this bio (and attendant childhood memory) some blogger was inspired to put together.

If I remember my high school Spanish correctly, “Vida” does indeed mean “crazy.”

Boy, did this guy make a big splash when he first hit the bigs. In his first year, he appeared in two games and pitched two complete-game shutouts. In the subsequent year, he went 24-8; led the AL in ERA, WHIP, and shutouts; was an All Star; and won the Cy Young and MVP awards. 

By the way, one of my childhood memories is creating a decoupage of Vida on a piece of wood in 7th grade art class.

I understand “Rogelio” means “crazy” in Azblekmian, which is what they speak on Rogelio’s native planet.

And, yes, you’ve seen Rogelio here before as well – looking especially skinny. One thing I didn’t mention there is that Moret actually was a little crazy. In fact, he had a nervous breakdown right before a game in Texas (he was playing for them then). He went into a catatonic state and had to be hauled off to a psych hospital. I kid you not.

Just to show you position players can be bat-shit crazy as well.

In addition to being clinically insane, Hal McRae was also a pretty darn good player. Up for 23 seasons, he hit over .300 six times and was  a four-time All Star. He finished with over 2,000 games, a .290 average, over 1,000 RBIs and 100 steals, and almost 200 homers.

Hal also managed for all or parts of six seasons, though he did finish under .500. He also had a son, Brian, who also played in the bigs.

And here’s another great – though rather traumatic – childhood story from yet another blogger.

Called third strike? Howl at the moon? Both?

Lenny Randle (as he’s more often referred to) was a decent player with some speed. Of his 12 years, six were as a starter. He stole 30 bags twice and batted over .300 twice as well. Pretty versatile, he played second, third, and outfield, and even caught a game once.

He’s much more famous, though, for

Another weird look at Lenny right here.

As if the name weren’t enough.

Broderick Perkins was a character actor often cast in tough-guy roles and best known for his portrayal of Willie Stark in All the King's Men … Wait a minute, wrong Broderick. That guy was Broderick Crawford. Honestly, how many Brodericks are there out there?

Our Broderick was up for seven seasons, but averaged less than 200 at bats per year. Overall, he finished with only eight homers (not what you typically want from your first baseman). 

I’m afraid there aren’t any cute stories out there for Broderick. In fact, there’s next to nothing. We still love you, though, Broderick!

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