While you were burrowed deep in your house, trying in vain to suck up all the AC, baseball things still happened. Here’s a handy catchall:
Strasburg’s inning cap will be 180. Dave Cameron has an interesting way to work around that. I’m conflicted on the subject. Strasburg is definitely a once in a generation talent that a team would want to build around, (plus, protecting a player from injury seems like the decent thing to do), but the Nationals are shockingly up for a playoff spot. Who will take those starts in October? John Lannan? That’s not very exciting.
Here are the stories you would be reading if the first half didn’t exist. Bryce Harper’s been bad, Albert Pujols has been Albert Pujols, and the Astros are maybe not a real baseball team. Not that this will stop us from drawing conclusions next April, though.
Looks like there are juiced baseballs in the Cape Cod summer league. So that’s why there are more hits per game than a Katy Perry album. Rimshot!
Manny Machado triples in first game, homers twice in second. It’s not fair that the 1% of athletes have so much of the talent.
Help re-name the Scranton Wilkes-Barre Yankees. My personal favorites are Fireflies, Porcupines, or Trolley Frogs. Those are all real options. And they’re fantastic.
That Guy: The No-Hit First Baseman. Since I love bad baseball players and I love fat baseball players, the no-hit first baseman has a special place in my heart.
Brett Lawrie needs to think before tweeting. Or vise versa. I’m not sure which is better.
John Lackey’s favorite drinking game is apparently Edward Fortyhands. His second favorite is I Never.
MLB has released their postseason schedule. There will be no off day between the Division Series and the Championship Series and Bud Selig better pray that there isn’t a three-way tie between the Wild Card teams. Otherwise, well, I don’t even want to tell you what might happen then.
A graphic look at those playing above compensation. With savings like these, you’d be a fool not to buy.
Everyone the Internet wide has posted this already, but I’m up for another viewing. Vin Scully reads lips.