7:38 – Welcome to the Third Annual Home Run Derby Live Post courtesy of Daddy’s Sugar Ball! Thank you for returning to your favorite blog, and we hope you enjoy the new, improved look. As you can readily see, we are now a proud part of the Google network. Simply go to Google.com and type Daddy’s Sugar Ball into the search box and there we are! With you tonight is Mr. Football and me, your Master of Ceremonies, ZJ. We are surrounded by the finest meats and cheeses in all the land and I’m enjoying a Summerbright Ale (4.5% ABV) by Breckenridge Brewery to kick off the festivities. The first thing I take away from the Home Run Derby Pregame Show is that Bobby V and Joe Morgan (remember that guy?!?) have–like 47 of this year’s voted-in All-Star participants–asked out and been replaced by John Kruk and Nomar Garciaparra. In fact I believe Kruk is also playing first base for the NL tomorrow night. With “The Human Shart” Chris Berman once again running the show, I don’t begrudge Valentine and Morgan.
7:52 – Mr. Football is currently turning off his location on his iPhone and trying to fool foursquare into thinking that he’s at Chase Field for the Derby tonight. I put his odds at succeeding at 150-to-1, roughly the same odds Rickie Weeks has of winning the actual Home Run Derby. Okay, LET’S GET IT ON!
7:55 – For the record, I’m taking David Ortiz to win tonight. Mr. Football just looked up who is participating and won’t commit to a winner, but says he’s rooting for Prince Fielder and expresses concern that Robbie Cano will mess up his swing tonight. I tell him to man up and pick someone. He does not appreciate the pressure and continues staring at his iPhone.
8:01 – One minute after the media told me the Derby would start, I’m watching some hick sing on a makeshift stage in the infield, flanked by a train. Or are they oversized airline baggage carts? What the hell? Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Exhibit A of why I hate this shit.
8:04 – After exactly no applause, the hick and his country band mates are quickly drowned out by Berman’s manufactured excitement.
8:05 – “Gonzalez,” Mr. Football mercifully offers.
8:09 – Mr. Football emphatically states Matt Kemp will NOT win and tells me to write that down. Duly noted for all posterity.
8:14 – Mr. Football expands on his strategy. “The number of home runs a guy hits is what I look for in a home run hitter.” In this crazy, mixed-up world we live in, you can take THAT to the bank.
8:21 – First pitch to Adrian Gonzalez is low and he takes it. By the time I finish that last sentence, he’s already down two outs.
8:22 – Mr. Football wants me to guess how far the longest home run hit tonight will be. I take a stab at 468 feet. He goes with 495 feet. I remind him that no one is on steroids anymore*, but he doesn’t believe me. He then notes that Berman hasn’t uttered, “BACKBACKBACK!” yet, but I tell him it’s still early. Vegas has taken that off the board.
*According to Major League Baseball
8:29 – Gonzalez wraps it up with nine dongs in his first round, a good showing. I’m secretly miffed that Mr. Football may have made a wise choice, but I’m keeping my fingers crossed for Matt Kemp to go absolutely apeshit tonight. PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE make it happen!
8:32 – With Matt Holliday up, I crack open the next beer – Harpoon Leviathan (10% ABV). Time to get my ‘Poon on! By the way, I want royalties if Harpoon starts using that as a tagline.
8:35 – Holliday ends with five homers and collects ten outs in just under three minutes … did he swing at every pitch? Does he know he can let ’em go by? Though I truly do appreciate Matt’s attempt to speed up this god-forsaken shitfest.
8:42 – Cano crushes two quick homers and then swings at a slider at his ankles. Um, Robbie, it’s the Derby, not an 0-2 count. Don’t fight that off.
8:43 – I realize that at this point in last year’s Derby, I just cracked open my first beer. I’M ONE UP, BABY! Let’s see if I can maintain my record-setting pace.
8:48 – Cano hits a bomb that hits a Gatorade banner that reads “G SERIES”. “That hit the G SPOT!” exclaims Mr. Football.
8:49 – After robbing two earlier Cano homers, some kid in a Diamondbacks cap makes a great diving catch in center field on Cano and jumps up in celebration, as he’s done after every catch. We’re calling him Jim Edmonds Jr.
8:52 – Rickie Weeks steps up to the plate and Mr. Football announces that now is the time to go if you need to use the bathroom. “They should just run commercials now,” he adds. I wonder if Rickie refers to himself in the third person?
8:54 – Time to tear into the wonderful spread laid out by Mr. Football. Nothing says Home Run Derby like pepperoni cheese … mmmm. Mr. Football declares that “they should have spotted Rickie Weeks five home runs from the outset.” Rickie finishes with three, so even with the five-spot I think he would still be eliminated.
9:01 – Joey Bats climbs into the batter’s box … is it Home Run o’clock already?
9:07 – Though Bautista is done with just four homers, I’m really pleased to see that all hitters are wearing ball caps this year. I’m sure Bud Selig cracked down on that shit they pulled last year.
9:12 – Chase Field slugs five home runs in his first appearance. Wait – that’s not a player?
9:16 – Holy shit, Matt Kemp is down to his last two outs without a home run. And the camera finds (one of?) his son(s) laughing at him! This ruins everything.
9:21 – Wait a minute … it feels like we’re on a good pace, but in reference to last year’s post, we’re behind! Big Papi just stepped up to bat, so you know he will stay up there for a good 12-15 minutes because he can’t stand it when his smilin’ face isn’t on camera. Sure enough, Ortiz calls a timeout after four swings to chug some Gatorade, who, coincidentally, is one of tonight’s sponsors! And then Prince Fielder will wrap up the first round somewhere around 11:45pm Eastern time. Lucky I don’t have people’s lives in my hands six sweet hours later!
9:26 – Bear Republic’s Racer 5 (7.0 ABV) steps to the plate and immediately starts gakkin’! I love this game! Ortiz ends with four (I think … I admit I’m starting to get distracted) homers and Mr. Football is looking like Nostradamus. By the way, Mr. Football also predicts the NFL lockout will end July 25th, the Broncos will win the Super Bowl, and the world will end 12/12/12. Make your plans now.
9:38 – SWING OFF!!! I don’t know what that means.
9:40 – Mr. Football is pounding Monster Energy Drinks and I ask if that’s such a good idea. “We’ll see,” he replies. Indeed, Mr. Football. Indeed.
9:45 – Fielder hits one off his shoestrings 444 feet and Berman, Kruk and Co. gush, “Oh my goodness!” and “Oh my gosh!” As a participating member of the blog media, I’ll translate for you:
“Oh my goodness!” = “Holy FUCK!”
“Oh my gosh!” = “FUCKIN’ A! WOULD YOU LIKE TO ACCOMPANY ME TO THE STRIP CLUB IMMEDIATELY FOLLOWING TONIGHT’S FESTIVITIES AND DO BLOW OFF THE TITS OF SOME OF ARIZONA’S FINEST ILLEGAL MEXICAN HOOKERS? I WILL ACCEPT YOUR GUFFAW AS AN AFFIRMATIVE RESPONSE.”
9:56 – MY GOD – IS THAT BIG PAPI’S MUSIC?!? No, it is not. Papi steps out to have the music coordinator change the at-bat music … are you fucking kidding me? Ortiz promptly blasts two homers, so what the fuck do I know? I’m not Nostradamus.
9:57 – Yes, it is getting blue in here so send the wife and kids to bed. The daughters can stay. Eh, bring back the wives, too – they’ll enjoy this.
9:59 – Ortiz finishes up with four home runs. What round are we in? Does anybody know what’s going on? I hope you’re not relying on me. I didn’t make any promises at the beginning.
10:09 – Cano is absolutely LIGHTING UP his BP pitcher like a Christmas tree in a North Korean fireworks factory. Cano takes a timeout after his sixth bomb to rehydrate with water and digestible Clear. If this doesn’t prove that New York has the world’s best HGH, I don’t know what does.
10:17 – Mr. Football pulls a back muscle after turning too fast to face the HDTV when the MLB program director sends the order for local coed strippers into the pool in right centerfield. I offer him some oxy and he takes five.
10:26 – Too much Adrian Gonzalez, not enough bikinis according to Mr. Football, who is doing Jane Fonda-like back stretches.
10:30:18 – Boobies.
10:30:26 – Just seeing if you’re still paying attention.
10:34 – As we break for commercial, Berman tells us that we have Gonzalez and Cano in the finals. I don’t want to hear the rest of the country bitching about East Coast bias ANYMORE.
10:39 – Mr. Football proofs my writing up to this point. “I’d still do Jane Fonda,” he says. “She’s still alive, right?”
10:40 – It occurs to me that we were done by this time last year. I blame the umps for slowing down the game. In reality, I think Gatorade is to blame.
10:48 – Kruk declares that he could go for some pork rinds right now. Never woulda guessed. Oh, and Gonzalez hit something like 11 home runs in the final round, I think. It appears Robinson Cano is up next.
10:55 – The brilliant ESPN panel agrees that Cano has a chance as he steps up to the plate. He has Katy Perry’s “Firework” as his at-bat music, so anything is possible!
11:01 – With nine home runs, I just found out that Cano’s BP pitcher is his dad. Did you guys know this? I could’ve used that earlier. Thanks for the heads-up.
11:03 – Hugs from Dad when a hatless Cano ties Gonzalez at 11 with only six outs.
11:04 – Dad grooves one and Robbie deposits it 408 feet over the right field wall for the winner. As Robbie celebrates with his AL teammates, Orioles scouts rush to the mound and sign his Dad to a three-year contract.
11:05 – Good night, everybody! See you next year with our next post!
Thanks for coming and suckling Daddy’s Sugar Ball…
ZJ
As I look out over the great Yinzer Stiller Nation and what we have accomplished over the last three and a half months I realize this drinking tahn with a Stillers problem has caught a case of baseball fever. These Buccos are no longer the Succos! I can proudly wear my Pirates ball cap again.
Daddy's Sugar Ball 