Nice to see baseball back in full swing, and even nicer to see some former Cyclones pitchers in Mets camp early this spring.
The week started off with so-so reports on the Cyclones alum. Tobi Stoner was shut down with shoulder soreness (mostly precautionary, they say) and Mike Antonini gave up a pair of "massive" home runs (but they were in an intrasquad game to Carlos Beltran and David Wright...try to find me a pitcher who those guys haven't gone gonzo off of).
Today, however, Dillon Gee got the good guys back on the scoreboard, tossing two shutout innings against the Marlins, allowing just one infield hit and striking out two Fish. Gee had a phenomenal year for the Cyclones in 2007, finishing sixth in the league with a 2.47 ERA. He allowed one run or less in seven of his 11 starts, and showed pinpoint control, striking out 56 batters while walking just nine in 62 innings. Nine. Ricky had nine walks in a third of an inning during 24 Hours of Baseball!
We wish all three pitchers the best of luck and we'll keep following them this spring!
-- Dave
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Mad Props
It's things like this that lead to Christian Bale-scale meltdowns.
KJ and I have been working on a new ad concept, promoting the Grub Club (free food, $50 in savings, etc.). I thought it would be appealing/interesting/eye-catching to set up some food on and around home plate, as opposed to a dinner plate -- creating a picture of a meal with a subtle baseball element incorporated. Pretty good, right? OK, so now all we have to do is get our props together, and set up the shot.
Not as easy as it sounds.
To start with, home plate has beenstolen ahem, misplaced. Not the one on the field, but the spare one we have that we were planning to use indoors. But it's like minus-10 degrees outside with the wind, so we switch to one of the little collectible replicas they sell in the team store.
Next, the food. The kitchen has been closed for some time now, so we need to venture out into the real world to buy food items that you can get here during the summer. The hot dog and soda were easy. The ice cream was a bit more challenging, but we found some. Then, the chips. We work with a specific vendor for the chips in the ballpark, so any old bag wouldn't do. It had to be Utz (which, incidentally is the best, anyway). After three stops -- involving a half-hour's worth of trips into the bitter cold, arguments with deli clerks, and a near-miss in the parking lot -- we finally found the right bag. OK, mission accomplished. Finally. We head back to the park, and set up the photo shoot in conference room.
And that's when Steve walks in.
Anyway, we improvised on the chips, and got the shot...and it does make for a good story.
Look for the ad in the paper in the coming days, and check out the Grub Club offer. Five games, with over $10 of free food at each game! It's really a great deal!
-- Dave
UPDATE: The picture turned out pretty well. You can see it here. The food, however, was left out on the table overnight (my fault), and became a topic of conversation in the conference room this afternoon, until Ricky finally went ahead and ate the three-day-old hot dog, then dipped the two-day old sour cream & onion chips in the two-day old melted ice cream and ate that for dessert. And no one put him up to this, mind you. He just did it. The man has problems.
KJ and I have been working on a new ad concept, promoting the Grub Club (free food, $50 in savings, etc.). I thought it would be appealing/interesting/eye-catching to set up some food on and around home plate, as opposed to a dinner plate -- creating a picture of a meal with a subtle baseball element incorporated. Pretty good, right? OK, so now all we have to do is get our props together, and set up the shot.
Not as easy as it sounds.
To start with, home plate has been
Next, the food. The kitchen has been closed for some time now, so we need to venture out into the real world to buy food items that you can get here during the summer. The hot dog and soda were easy. The ice cream was a bit more challenging, but we found some. Then, the chips. We work with a specific vendor for the chips in the ballpark, so any old bag wouldn't do. It had to be Utz (which, incidentally is the best, anyway). After three stops -- involving a half-hour's worth of trips into the bitter cold, arguments with deli clerks, and a near-miss in the parking lot -- we finally found the right bag. OK, mission accomplished. Finally. We head back to the park, and set up the photo shoot in conference room.
And that's when Steve walks in.
Steve: "What's this going to look like in the ad?"I kid you not, as we had this two-sentence conversation, Steve -- almost as if by muscle memory alone -- ripped open the bag and started eating the chips.
Me (still flustered and frustrated from my last 30 minutes): "Pretty much like what you're looking at, since we'll just be taking a picture of it."
Me (horrified): "Um, that's probably not going to be a great-looking prop anymore, now that you've torn into it.Sometimes you just have to laugh, right? Either that, or go on a profanity-laced rampage that winds up being mocked, reenacted, and viewed or listened to millions of times on TMZ or YouTube.
Steve (with Sour Cream & Onion chips still on his lips): "Oooooh. Sorry. I didn't even realize that. Makes for a good story, though, huh?"
Anyway, we improvised on the chips, and got the shot...and it does make for a good story.
Look for the ad in the paper in the coming days, and check out the Grub Club offer. Five games, with over $10 of free food at each game! It's really a great deal!
-- Dave
UPDATE: The picture turned out pretty well. You can see it here. The food, however, was left out on the table overnight (my fault), and became a topic of conversation in the conference room this afternoon, until Ricky finally went ahead and ate the three-day-old hot dog, then dipped the two-day old sour cream & onion chips in the two-day old melted ice cream and ate that for dessert. And no one put him up to this, mind you. He just did it. The man has problems.
Monday, February 23, 2009
More for Your Money
I'm not going to break into a recession song and dance, like Wolverine did last night, but in a time when we are flooded by the gloom and doom of the current economic crisis, I do want to point out once again that there is absolutely no better entertainment value for your dollar than Brooklyn Cyclones baseball.
Really, it's almost silly how much you get for your money when you buy a Cyclones ticket. Tickets range from just $5 to $15, and in addition to seeing baseball's stars of tomorrow and a team that has made the playoffs in five of eight seasons, you practically make your money back with all the free things we give you, throw at you, or let you win.
Almost every game has a free giveaway, a fireworks show, or some type of special appearance. You are literally handed free goodies as you walk into the park, more free stuff is tossed into the stands all game long, and just in case you still have any space left in your hands, pockets, fanny packs, or kangaROOS, we give you more swag as you leave the park. T-Shirts, collectibles, baseball caps, bobbleheads, bumper stickers, balloons, baseballs -- there's no end to what you'll be loading in your car at the end of the night, along with all the great memories.
And I don't mean to sound like the ShamWow guy, but "wait...there's more!" (You following me, camera guy?) When you buy a ticket plan, or a block of group tickets, you get even more great stuff for free!
This year, we're introducing the Grub Club, which lets you eat for free at every game in your plan, and the We Win, You Win plan, which lets you legally bet on the Cyclones! (Well, kind of...if we win any of the games in that plan, you get FREE tickets to another game!) When you buy 20 or more tickets as a group, you get discounted prices, and every single member of your group gets a free high-quality Cyclones cap.
It's really kind of ridiculous. Can you imagine going to the movies (a similar $10-$12 venture) and having an usher give you a free t-shirt, free food, and telling you that if you like the movie, you can come back and see another one for free? Of course not.
With all of the action on and off the field, there is just no better way to beat the recession than by getting tickets to see the Cyclones! A night out to entertain yourself, your friends, and your family for less than $15, and loads of free stuff that makes you feel like you're getting a big-company bailout.
Like Mr. ShamWow says, "I don't know...it sells itself."
(Of course, it doesn't actually sell itself, so go to brooklyncyclones.com to get your tickets today!)
-- Dave
Really, it's almost silly how much you get for your money when you buy a Cyclones ticket. Tickets range from just $5 to $15, and in addition to seeing baseball's stars of tomorrow and a team that has made the playoffs in five of eight seasons, you practically make your money back with all the free things we give you, throw at you, or let you win.
Almost every game has a free giveaway, a fireworks show, or some type of special appearance. You are literally handed free goodies as you walk into the park, more free stuff is tossed into the stands all game long, and just in case you still have any space left in your hands, pockets, fanny packs, or kangaROOS, we give you more swag as you leave the park. T-Shirts, collectibles, baseball caps, bobbleheads, bumper stickers, balloons, baseballs -- there's no end to what you'll be loading in your car at the end of the night, along with all the great memories.
And I don't mean to sound like the ShamWow guy, but "wait...there's more!" (You following me, camera guy?) When you buy a ticket plan, or a block of group tickets, you get even more great stuff for free!
This year, we're introducing the Grub Club, which lets you eat for free at every game in your plan, and the We Win, You Win plan, which lets you legally bet on the Cyclones! (Well, kind of...if we win any of the games in that plan, you get FREE tickets to another game!) When you buy 20 or more tickets as a group, you get discounted prices, and every single member of your group gets a free high-quality Cyclones cap.
It's really kind of ridiculous. Can you imagine going to the movies (a similar $10-$12 venture) and having an usher give you a free t-shirt, free food, and telling you that if you like the movie, you can come back and see another one for free? Of course not.
With all of the action on and off the field, there is just no better way to beat the recession than by getting tickets to see the Cyclones! A night out to entertain yourself, your friends, and your family for less than $15, and loads of free stuff that makes you feel like you're getting a big-company bailout.
Like Mr. ShamWow says, "I don't know...it sells itself."
(Of course, it doesn't actually sell itself, so go to brooklyncyclones.com to get your tickets today!)
-- Dave
Friday, February 20, 2009
New Coaching Staff
It's been a while since we had an entirely new coaching staff in Brooklyn, but that's exactly what we're getting this year.The Mets have announced that Pedro Lopez (pictured) will be at the helm in '09, becoming the seventh manager in club history. He'll be joined by Pitching Coach Rick Tomlin, Hitting Coach Jack Voigt, and Coach Joel Fuentes.
I have to admit that I don't know a whole lot about the members of this staff yet, other than the bios we included in our press release, but I didn't know a whole lot about guys like Tony Tijerina, Hector Berrios, or Donovan Mitchell, either, before they got to Brooklyn, and those are three of the best coaches (and people) I've met during my time in baseball. (They also led the '04 squad to the playoffs, incidentally.) And I had never heard of Edgar Alfonzo before he led the Cyclones to the best season in franchise history and racked up over 150 wins. So name recognition doesn't mean much in my eyes.
In the weeks and months leading up to the season, we'll learn more about our new staff (and maybe even have them author a blog entry or two), so that we can get to know the men we'll be welcoming to Brooklyn this summer!
-- Dave
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Milk Money
Have you ever heard of the "milk gallon challenge?" Basically, it says that it is impossible to drink a gallon of milk in one hour...and keep it down. (Well, OK, not impossible. Joey Chestnut can do it even faster than that, but he's a pro, so that doesn't count.)
Somehow, the challenge made its way into a Ticket Office conversation, and Brian the Intern (that's the name on his birth certificate) immediately boasted that he could easily accomplish the feat. The T.O. then brought said challenge to the attention of the Blog, and here we are.
No one believes it's possible -- especially for someone who is 5'3" and 95 pounds -- to drink a gallon of milk in an hour and keep it down...but we're willing to hang out for an hour after work to see the results. (Not Steve. Steve just kind of shook his head and said "If he dies, and I'm around...that would suck." Then he walked out the door.)
Despite dozens of absolutely disgusting videos to the contrary, Brian the Intern was ready to proceed ahead and try to prove us all wrong. And here's how it all went down (spoiler alert: and back up again):
With many staff members already gathered, Brian the Intern (BTI) burst through the door to the players' lounge looking disturbingly like Paulie Bleeker, but not quite as buff. Seriously. The kid was wearing wristbands, a yellow headband, a toddler's t-shirt, shorts, and white socks pulled up to his mid-calf. Not exactly an intimidating sight. But I will say this...he talked a good game.
Before he even popped the top of the milk gallon, his bravado actually had me thinking twice about my prediction. And then the challenge began.
BTI chose to "enhance" his milk with chocolate powder (which I still think was his biggest mistake, since all that does is make it thicker and heavier, but hey, whatever). He poured the first cup, stirred in the mix, and away we went. With the stopwatch keeping the pace, BTI chugged the first cup, then the second, then the third. He was a milk-drinking machine, pulverizing the pasteurization. And what started out as competitive bravado became over the top braggadocio. He was talking smack between cups, doing cartwheels (or what were supposed to be cartwheels), challenging Ricky to a post-challenge race, etc. There was no way he wasn't going to crush this challenge.
Then the half-hour mark hit.
BTI was talking less and less, and taking deeper and deeper breaths. The lighting in the room wasn't ideal, but I swear he started to turn a shade of yellow, and I think I saw his pupils getting grey. More importantly, his sips were getting smaller and smaller. And he was starting to sweat.
Throughout the whole process, we, as a staff, were nothing but supportive. And by "supportive," I mean we were trying to make him puke. Pat and I discussed the merits of eating whole sticks of butter. Ricky gave us a physical description of how the milk was interacting with BTI's stomach acids. KJ had some interesting theories on how BTI would likely be spending the remainder of his evening. Things like that.
At first, BTI laughed it off, and even had some good retorts, but as time kept ticking, he seemed to find it all less and less amusing. Which, of course, made it more and more fun.
The 40-minute mark brought the turning point. BTI simply started shaking his head -- slowly, but steadily. I asked him if that was a "no problem, I got this" confident head shake, or an "I don't think I'm going to make it" head shake. Without changing the expression on his face, BTI simply stared straight ahead and said. "It's not looking good." And that, dear friends, was the beginning of the end.
Approximately three minutes later, BTI told Ricky to get his camera ready (video to come eventually) and started doing this thing with his neck and shoulders that my grandmother's cat used to do right before it coughed up a hairball. Seconds later, BTI and his Bleeker headband were buried, ostrich-like, in a giant garbage can, with various sights and sounds coming from the depths below that elicited a deafening roar from the crowd.
It wasn't quite as dramatic as the infamous Stand By Me barf-o-rama (PG-13...go look it up, Joyce), but it did send some of the weaker-stomached scurrying for the doors.
Milk, 1. BTI, 0.
It was a valiant effort, but -- like his performance in the Full-Time vs. Intern Softball game -- BTI proved more talkin' than walkin'.
Don't worry, BTI. Your career in the minors is only beginning. Like they say in Brooklyn: Wait Til Next Year!
-- Dave
Somehow, the challenge made its way into a Ticket Office conversation, and Brian the Intern (that's the name on his birth certificate) immediately boasted that he could easily accomplish the feat. The T.O. then brought said challenge to the attention of the Blog, and here we are.
No one believes it's possible -- especially for someone who is 5'3" and 95 pounds -- to drink a gallon of milk in an hour and keep it down...but we're willing to hang out for an hour after work to see the results. (Not Steve. Steve just kind of shook his head and said "If he dies, and I'm around...that would suck." Then he walked out the door.)
Despite dozens of absolutely disgusting videos to the contrary, Brian the Intern was ready to proceed ahead and try to prove us all wrong. And here's how it all went down (spoiler alert: and back up again):
With many staff members already gathered, Brian the Intern (BTI) burst through the door to the players' lounge looking disturbingly like Paulie Bleeker, but not quite as buff. Seriously. The kid was wearing wristbands, a yellow headband, a toddler's t-shirt, shorts, and white socks pulled up to his mid-calf. Not exactly an intimidating sight. But I will say this...he talked a good game.
Before he even popped the top of the milk gallon, his bravado actually had me thinking twice about my prediction. And then the challenge began.
BTI chose to "enhance" his milk with chocolate powder (which I still think was his biggest mistake, since all that does is make it thicker and heavier, but hey, whatever). He poured the first cup, stirred in the mix, and away we went. With the stopwatch keeping the pace, BTI chugged the first cup, then the second, then the third. He was a milk-drinking machine, pulverizing the pasteurization. And what started out as competitive bravado became over the top braggadocio. He was talking smack between cups, doing cartwheels (or what were supposed to be cartwheels), challenging Ricky to a post-challenge race, etc. There was no way he wasn't going to crush this challenge.
Then the half-hour mark hit.
BTI was talking less and less, and taking deeper and deeper breaths. The lighting in the room wasn't ideal, but I swear he started to turn a shade of yellow, and I think I saw his pupils getting grey. More importantly, his sips were getting smaller and smaller. And he was starting to sweat.
Throughout the whole process, we, as a staff, were nothing but supportive. And by "supportive," I mean we were trying to make him puke. Pat and I discussed the merits of eating whole sticks of butter. Ricky gave us a physical description of how the milk was interacting with BTI's stomach acids. KJ had some interesting theories on how BTI would likely be spending the remainder of his evening. Things like that.
At first, BTI laughed it off, and even had some good retorts, but as time kept ticking, he seemed to find it all less and less amusing. Which, of course, made it more and more fun.
The 40-minute mark brought the turning point. BTI simply started shaking his head -- slowly, but steadily. I asked him if that was a "no problem, I got this" confident head shake, or an "I don't think I'm going to make it" head shake. Without changing the expression on his face, BTI simply stared straight ahead and said. "It's not looking good." And that, dear friends, was the beginning of the end.
Approximately three minutes later, BTI told Ricky to get his camera ready (video to come eventually) and started doing this thing with his neck and shoulders that my grandmother's cat used to do right before it coughed up a hairball. Seconds later, BTI and his Bleeker headband were buried, ostrich-like, in a giant garbage can, with various sights and sounds coming from the depths below that elicited a deafening roar from the crowd.
It wasn't quite as dramatic as the infamous Stand By Me barf-o-rama (PG-13...go look it up, Joyce), but it did send some of the weaker-stomached scurrying for the doors.
Milk, 1. BTI, 0.
It was a valiant effort, but -- like his performance in the Full-Time vs. Intern Softball game -- BTI proved more talkin' than walkin'.
Don't worry, BTI. Your career in the minors is only beginning. Like they say in Brooklyn: Wait Til Next Year!
-- Dave
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