I am not a one trick pony. I can’t sit down and create the same piece of fiction or non-fiction day-in and day-out. That is a skill unto itself, and while some would say I am admitting a lack of discipline, I counter with creativity. Pure, unfettered, uncut, and impenetrable creativity. Such a thing is hard to attain at any age, but I still find myself in the zone at times.
Starting one’s flights of fancy is the easy part. The finishing of said flight is impossible to some, including your author. Your author enjoys writing songs, sketches, screenplays, teleplays, plays, poems, short stories, novels, and fantasy baseball content. Only two or three of the above objects of creativity are ever completed. Forcing oneself to create anything is an absolutely brutal experience at times, but tying a bow on an act of expression is excruciating.
There are drafts and drafts that only see my eyes, a cutting room floor swollen with spaghetti-on-the-floor prose, all to avoid trite tropes and revolting repetition. Your author despises repetition. Your author’s attempt to avoid repetition are thwarted by the sheer volume of Blurbstomps produced, as the structure of any recurring piece of writing falls prey to Groundhog Day-ian memory scramble.
Can anything be creative if it follows a template? Why does doubt exist as the world’s worst art critic?
All this to say that I will once again spend a Blurbstomp talking about a baseball player getting hurt in his pee pee place.
Yandy Díaz was pulled from Tuesday’s game in the fifth inning due to an undisclosed injury.
The Rays had Curtis Mead replace him, with Isaac Paredes moved from third to first in the game against the Twins.
Source: Rotoworld.com
Thus and so our chronicle begins. We receive the diagnosis of “undisclosed injury.” Unlike our previous tome concerning Lars’s Nootbaars, we do not receive instant confirmation of the source of injury. Upon looking at a simple game breakdown, I see a 7-pitch at bat in the top of the 5th inning during Tuesday’s game wherein the fourth pitch was an 85.2mph splitter fouled off by Diaz. All other pitches were either called strikes, balls, or his weak dribbler back to Joe Ryan. We have found the smoking gun, and its sights are set on Diaz’s Dandies.
I have yet to view the footage, as I value my mind too much, but one ponders the reluctance of a blurbist to describe the injury that happened during the game. Are blurbists being asked to hold back details in “free” news updates? Is there a paywall that once climbed reveals blurbs written during games to give people a leg up in daily or non-bid waiver leagues? Are there hidden blurb universes on the internet, troves of performance reactions hidden like ziggurats in dense jungle foliage?
Probably. But I hope not.
It’s the internet. It collects detritus like the ocean’s currents.
Yandy Díaz was lifted from Tuesday’s game against the Twins with a testicular contusion.
That’s no fun. Assuming that Díaz needs a few days off, the Rays can play Isaac Paredes and Jonathan Aranda at first and Curtis Mead and Osleivis Basabe at third base. Díaz was 0-for-2 with a walk before departing tonight.
Source: Rotoworld
“That’s no fun.”
Your author played basketball, soccer, tennis, baseball, and track during high school. My memories of each sport are clouded by individual injuries
Basketball – demolished my right knee when my legs were swept out from under me in a pick up game at recess
Soccer – sustained multiple concussions taking goalie kicks off my head (world went black with brilliant starfields and everything), and also took a goalie kick off my sausage and eggs. The latter hurt more than the former.
Tennis – pulled hamstring, tennis elbow
Baseball – was placed in right field for all of Little League. Humiliating.
Track – pulled quad, pulled hamstring
They were “pulled” muscles because I was never given any medical treatment outside of “here is an Ace bandage, now you’re the coach’s assistant, go get more ice for the jug of store brand Powerade.” As far as I know, I never broke or tore anything because I’m still running around being an idiot, but mostly because my parents and coach would insist I was fine to avoid both medical cost and liability.
Each injury is unique and obnoxious, and I was always more annoyed than in pain – except for that goalie kick to the old sausage and eggs. I still see the ball coming down at a 45 degree angle, and feel the opposing player push me in the back, knocking my balance, causing a ball that I meant to trap with my chest crumple my fulcrum like a pulverized dixie cup.
I blacked out and then threw up on the sidelines.
One might think I write a piece like this in sheer mocking revelry, but I promise there is a solemn knowing involved in the process.
So when I read, “That’s no fun,” and the editorializing stops there, I waiver in confusion between haughty judgment and quicksilver anger. No description of how it happened, or any idea of severity. Lars went to the dang hospital! Nothing here. Move along. The Rays have about 70 guys in the majors and minors with perfectly unsullied jock strap fillings ready to platoon at a moment’s notice.
That’s no fun indeed.
Rays manager Kevin Cash is hopeful Yandy Díaz will play Wednesday after the first baseman left Tuesday’s game with a testicular contusion.
If Díaz can’t go, the Rays figure to use Isaac Paredes at first and either Curtis Mead or Osleivis Basabe at third against lefty Dallas Keuchel.
Source: Rotoworld
There is something so flippant about the Rays reaction to this injury as if it’s a question of mind over matter. Friends, this is a case of matter over mind. A man is usually given two family jewels, allow Yandy the courtesy of hoarding his in the safety of an ice bath for a few days. The Rays are getting into the playoffs. Let’s not say that every game matters for them at this point. Or I just jinxed them.
Either way, the blurb echoes the detached nature of the Rays response. Athletes suffer a rare form of Stockholm Syndrome, wherein they’re convinced that playing through injuries is the only way to show a heartless league you love it. The league does not care about your body or your feelings. Not when it’s the Clone Wars and the Rays have intergalactic spaceship hangars full of utility players. Imagine the luxury of making human beings expendable. I can’t because I am one of those. Not a spaceship hangar full of utility players, I’m a human being! A human being!
Yandy Díaz is starting at first base on Wednesday after leaving Tuesday’s game with a testicular contusion.
As is turns out, Díaz won’t even miss a game after being hit in a bad spot last night. As per usual, he’s leading off versus the Twins.
Source: Rotoworld
The Timelines:
Undisclosed Injury
Testicular Contusion (That’s no fun)
Testicular Contusion
Testicular Contusion (hit in a bad spot)
There is a beautiful, tasteful comedy to writing the formal “testicular contusion” followed immediately with a 4th grader’s lexicon of the same location on the human body (bad spot). I don’t think anyone should refer to a part of their body as a “bad spot.” We’re all beautiful, inside and out! Unless you have a tapeworm or any kind of growth-related malady. Regardless, one shouldn’t compare a person’s chicken nuggets with the likes of cancer or shingles.
After all of this build-up, our boy suited up and played on Wednesday and Thursday. That’s quite the journey for Yandy, and he even got two hits on Wednesday night!
You may wonder about Rotowire’s coverage of this groinular incident, and it was one blurb with mention of a testicular contusion. This is either a sign of mature blurbing or a complete show of incompetence. This is the glory of analyzing blurbs. Much like the zombie films of Fulci, or Roger Corman’s entire ouvre, the sweet spot is so “so bad it’s good.” A good blurb will provide a quick burst of positive vibes, and then you move on.
A bad blurb will cause frustration, sometimes even angst. In so doing, you are disagreeing with the very substance of the blurb. Maybe you check the Player Rater to double check the veracity of a bad blurb’s claims. Et voila! You are thinking critically, and may even accidentally learn more about the player or adjacent players than you would if it were a well-written blurb.
So keep writing those bad blurbs! And if another player acts like Kevin Costner – getting his Yellowstones damaged (I don’t watch the show, I’m just baby-braining a simile-based joke) – then please keep blurbing. Never stop blurbing.
Ever.
