Tuesday's Tony Gwynn: Haikuesday

He played the right way
No drugs, just videotape
Dude's got a statue

Mustache Monday: Mack's Many Mustaches

Like last week's 'stacherocker Fred McGriff, Shane Mack was no one mustache wonder. Even before debuting with the Padres, Mack had the ol' lipwarmer in full effect in the minors and as an Olympian. He went on to keep it the entirety of his career, although he kept it closely trimmed toward the end of his career. Mack was a true advocate for the solo-'stache, never giving in like so many others in the mid-to-late 90s by accompanying it with a trendy goatee.

Thursday's Tony Gwynn

"Thursday's Tony Gwynn" doesn't quite have the same ring as "Tuesday's Tony Gwynn" but it's still TTG and I've used it before so that's what's happening. Longtime readers (ahahahahaha, who am I fooling?) will recall I quit smoking back when Tony got diagnosed with cancer. If you know anything about me at all, you can guess what is about to follow. Yep, it lasted about all of two days. I kept trying for about a month or so, giving in for one or two a day before I finally said eff it and quit fooling myself. The way I see it, I'll be lucky if I live long enough for smoking to be the thing that takes me down. This, of course, is a rationalization and a poor one at that. I can make them all day. Others I use include the facts that I don't smoke nearly as many as I used to, that I could be doing way worse things and that I'm a much more pleasant person to be around when I'm not having nic fits. These are all feeble, feeble reasons but what else would you expect from me?

Mustache Monday: McGriff & My Mistakes

Fred McGriff was a hell of a hitter for a lot of teams. However, I'm willing to bet that I'm not the only one who immediately thinks of his magnificent John Oatesish pornstache when they hear his name (the Tom Emansky ad rates a close second).

Like McGriff, I'm a multifaceted individual who is recognized mainly for one thing. In my case, it's not a glorious face farm but a historic pattern of fuckin' up. This post's pic is an excerpt from a sketch pad of mine I'd occasionally scribble thoughts down in as well. As you can see, at the time I was really into catching nods. For those who don't know, that's the desired result of doing heroin or a shitload of painkillers. There was a period of a few months last summer/ fall where that was my main reason for getting off the couch. I'm grateful that I've been off of all that for a couple months or so and that it turned out better than my coke phase (basically the entirety of 2009) in that I didn't end up selling it and getting a gun shoved in my face. For now, I'm free of all that and I never get the desire to go cop but I wonder how much lower I can go if I ever stray back into that sort of thing. I don't see it happening- but, then again, who does? It's kind of scary...

Friday Filler

Mustache Monday: Roberto Alomar

Speaking of Anthony Rizzo (he's a damn dirty Cub now; no nicknames for him!), the trade of him to get Andrew Cashner was panned by many. I had my doubts but I know I couldn't do Josh Byrnes's job any better so I let it go. I can't imagine how I would have reacted if I had a stupid little nerdblog back when Joe McIlvaine shipped Robbie Alomar and Joe Carter to Toronto for McGriff and Tony Fernandez. I probably would have ranted a bunch because I was eight and I did that even more back then. I just remember being kind of bummed because I knew they were pretty good and I was used to them; I definitely didn't know that Alomar was going to be a Hall Of Famer...

Rizz & The Process Of Weeding Out

Every now and then, like everybody else, I'll go through and clean out people I have no need to follow on twitter anymore for whatever reason. The other day, Rizz was one of the ones who got the cut. One, I don't like the Cubs and two, it's not like he ever has anything of interest to say. It's not just because he isn't a Padre anymore- I follow the Geoff Blums and Matt Antonellis of the world- but because that's the only reason I had to follow him in the first place. Then again, Padre or not, you couldn't get me to follow Orlando Hudson if you put a gun to my head. Blah, blah, blah; like any of this matters...