Slow Day at the Office

On a day when the most compelling sports news we can think of is an almost 300-pound man hitting an inside the park homer and very nearly careening off the face of the Earth (which, by the way, is flat) while rounding third base, we thought it might be a good time to empty our overburdened mind of some random, sports-related thoughts:

• Courtesy of our friend Frank G. Yak: Did you know that if Jason Kidd had a child, and gave that child the first name of Kidd, you could conceivably have a sentence that goes “Look, there goes Jason Kidd’s kid, Kidd Kidd, kid.” (The last “kid” of course being the colloquial use of “kid” to mean, essentially, “my friend.” As in, “What's up, kid?”)

• You know you’ve been watching too much baseball when you begin to think of your secondary (cell phone) alarm clock as the cleanup hitter, which thereby protects your original alarm (the #3) hitter from being “pitched around,” i.e., accidentally shut off by you, the person who’s trying to go back to sleep. Does this mean that your alarm clock successfully rousing you out of bed is a home run? Because it certainly doesn’t feel like one.

• Is it just us, or does it seem like the pro athlete population has an unusually high occurrence of appendectomies? Seems like we hear about a pro athlete having an appendectomy about once a month. Or is it possible that pro athletes have appendectomies just as often as people in the normal civilian population, and it’s just that we don’t hear about every single thing that happens to normal, everyday people?

• Have you every played the game where you pick up a baseball and throw it with your opposite hand, and in turn make your friends do the same thing, because it’s one of the most ridiculous-looking things to watch an otherwise coordinated person do? It occurs to us that it would be horrible to play that game with this guy.

• There’s an old adage in baseball that when a team has one talented player who’s blocked by another (usually more experienced) player at the same position, “these things usually work themselves out.” And oddly enough, it seems to be sort of true. But how exactly did we figure that out? Was it just because people were being totally lazy and ignoring their baseball-related problems and then suddenly they started fixing themselves? And will other non-baseball problems create their own solutions if we just leave them alone?

On that note, if you’ll excuse us, we are now going to lie prostrate on the cold floor, drooling on our new shirt, for the duration of the afternoon.