Amazingly, such a distrust of statistics materializes in an appreciation of one of the most meaningless concepts in baseball: 'clutch.' The same penis who badmouthed 'statistics,' in a hundred different breaths (as [berman] is 300 pounds overweight), will praise the game's most 'clutch' players. 'Oh, Alex Rodriguez has a better OPS and EqA than Ortiz? More Win Shares? Yeah, shove it, because Ortiz has better Close and Late numbers!' If you've received a primary school education, you may slap me on the wrist and say, 'Michael, certainly a contra...contradiction must...be present? For you cannot celebrate a player's clutchness if you distrust statistics? Because statistics show you who is or who is not clutch?'
Very good observation, my little filly. But you are foolish. You are foolish to believe that these penises are at all rational, and that they seek to encourage a sound understanding of baseball. You are foolish to assume that these penises desire scientific inquiry. For penises are visceral, never cerebral, seeking repetitive gratification, never wondering if there's more to life than pubic hair. That's how I picture most sports fans - surrounded by the thick, sweaty, curly pubes known as their imagination.
The concept of clutch is a layman's purported triumph over the rational and objective. 'Clutch' allows them to believe in the utility of that which cannot be measured, of that which they really believe to be true but which has no bearing whatsoever to this thing called 'reality.' Small wonder that half of Americans do not believe in evolution. Mountains of data disappear in the choking mists of cliche. An intelligent man, Cyril Morong, wrote about clutch quite extensively. Reviewing a lot of data and drawing upon prior research, he concludes that clutch is pretty much meaningless. Baseball's scientific community has, through the years, relegated clutch to the wastebasket. Its existence is statistically insignificant; while it may exist, it does not appear in the available data. Think of...the ether. Or your penis. Yet so many sports fans grant it the most significance in assessing a hitter. It'd be like running a paper company in Scranton, Pennsylvania, and rewarding your workers for celebrating your birthday rather than for increasing profits. But that's actually characteristic of a mockumentary, The Office. We're supposed to laugh. The boss, we all know, is an idiot. This on the other hand is real life.
Michael Scott believes in clutch. Michael Scott is you.
I wish to abolish the word 'clutch' from the English language. Upon hearing it I unfailingly lose more brain cells than entropy requires at that moment. So, join hands with me, and instead of saying 'clutch,' say 'monkey.' Illustrations: 'David Ortiz hits very well in the monkey.' 'David Ortiz is a monkey hitter.' This makes very little sense, much like clutch, and it's borderline sexual.[queynte]
Labels: yanquis
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5 Comments:
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holy crap where'd you find this guy? I'm hoarse with laughter. you left out my favorite part:
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I wish to abolish the word 'clutch' from the English language. Upon hearing it I unfailingly lose more brain cells than entropy requires at that moment. So, join hands with me, and instead of saying 'clutch,' say 'monkey.' Illustrations: 'David Ortiz hits very well in the monkey.' 'David Ortiz is a monkey hitter.' This makes very little sense, much like clutch, and it's borderline sexual.
June, at 10:19 PM
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nomaas!
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and oops. yeah, that was what reminded me of you in the first place, with your clutch/unicorn thing. fixed! lupe!, at 10:27 PM
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this guy uses "penis" in his exposition a little bit too much :erm
By Mr. Faded Glory, at 6:24 AM
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ah shit, i saw your link after i posted
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well i guess that makes a lot more sense now Mr. Faded Glory, at 6:25 AM
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this guy uses "penis" in his exposition a little bit too much
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no wonder i liked it so much lupe!, at 10:51 AM
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