Bronson Arroyo, “aspiring musician” and erstwhile starting pitcher, knows that he is getting older (he’s 35, now). He says he’s worried about his “23-, 24-, 23-year-old” competition. He says he’s worried that he might not look good as an old man. With these concerns in mind, Mr. Arroyo has forayed into new territory this spring: the kitchen!

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No chef’s hat!

Let it be known (mostly to the ladies) that Bronson Arroyo, “seasoned” “veteran”, still got it:

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This past weekend at the FanGraphs gathering in Phoenix, Mr. Carson Cistulli stated that he had never seen the George Brett-poops-himself video. I couln’t believe it, so I decided to hook him up. In case some of our other readers have also been deprived of this video, “enjoy.”

[Ed. Note: contains a wide and winning variety of explicit language.]

Original Version

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Cognitive dissonance is a heck of a thing.

Like, I like Frank Thomas. He got a little sanctimonious at times, and his head was kind of misshapen, but he also was on the front of the first $20+ card I ever got in a pack (1990 Stadium Club, now on sale for $1), and for like seven years at the beginning of the 1990s he was like straight fire unleashed on the league. For those seven years he had a .330/.452/.604 line… 835 walks to 528 strikeouts…

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The convention floor now displays before unshielded eyes the full complement of Bacchanalian excesses. Delegates have died from too many drinks, opiates and hastily administered “Happy Clancy’s” in the men’s room. Such is the political process.

The bloodshed, though, has yielded 10 names, all listed below and all approved by the codpieced Utmost Culminating Exchequer. So which ballplayer shall forevermore be known as “Hot Lettuce”? Please vote in the manner most likely to spare your life …

Thank you for exercising the franchise.

Our ongoing quest, in the manner of a noble knight-errant, is to assign cool nicknames to players rather than indulge in the tired, lamewad paradigm of assigning cool players nicknames. Before we launch the latest installment, however, a trip through our Hall of Honouur, which is so stately, so regal, so much itself a celebration of the Norman Conquest, that an extra British-English unstressed “u” is required for proper spelling. …

“Bad Miracle” – Wily Mo Peña
“Captain Black Tobacco” – John Danks
“$45 Couch” – Yuniesky Betancourt
“Liván Hernández” – Liván Hernández
“Frog in the Pot” – Carlos Zambrano
“Aqua Velva Man” – Chase Utley
“Victorian Sex Rebel” – John Axford
“Good, Round Friend” – Prince Fielder
“I Am Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass” – Kyle Farnsworth
“Interrobang” – Adrián Beltré
“Turbaconducken” – Ty Wigginton

And the nickname now available for purchase? It’s “Hot Lettuce”!

Denotations, Connotations, Implications, Intimations, and Incriminations:

It is a landmark day in the young annals of Nickname Seeks Player: a reader contribution. Faithful page viewer Bryz, who surely has better things to do, passes along this championship explanation:

I am in the middle of student teaching right now, and I had to bring the leftover remains of a chicken Caesar salad to school for lunch. Not desiring some cold chicken, I chose to nuke my salad via microwave prior to eating it. I took the first bite of chicken… not bad! Then I moved to a Caesar dressing-covered piece of lettuce. One chew, two chews, pause, spit it back into the bowl. It was terrible. Apparently lettuce above room temperature is like drinking cold (not iced) coffee; it’s just not right.

I was telling this story to a fellow student teacher and friend of mine at the end of the day, and I explained how the salad sucked overall because of the hot lettuce. That was when I thought instantly of the “Nickname Seeks Player” posts at NotGraphs, and I felt that something I had just said would fit perfectly: “Hot Lettuce.”

Lettuce by itself is rather blah. It’s nothing outstanding by itself, and I bet no one has ever said with gusto, “I want some lettuce today!” It’s something you add, but I don’t think you’ll really miss it if it’s gone. But hot lettuce is a whole different story. It is something that is just… filthy. Nasty. Has the power to make you do a spit-take. Thus, what I am imagining in a “Hot Lettuce” type of player is someone that overall was unspectacular, but when he got hot (performance-wise, not Adrian “Don’t touch my head!” Beltre hot or Carson Cistulli-attractiveness hot), watch out! This player being hot turns him into a dominating force.

We like it. The concept of “Hot Lettuce” as a nickname, that is, not actual, foul-tasting hot lettuce.

Prototypes from Baseball’s Gauzy Past:

More from Bryz:

Players that I feel fit this description might be John Mabry. 2.1 career WAR, and 1.6 of it was amassed in his 2002 season chronicled in Moneyball. Rich Harden is another player that I like, because he’s mixed in some “meh” seasons (regular lettuce) with some great seasons (hot lettuce). There’s certainly also other, non-green wearing, non-former Athletics players that could come to mind for this nickname.

I would add: Mike Damn Laga.

Guiding, Determinative Query:

What current major-league player should be nicknamed “Hot Lettuce”?

The convention floor, which is filled with hot lettuce and used, tortured rubbers, is open for nominations …

Hi. Welcome to MLBistro, where the flavors are as big as Don Mossi’s ears. We hope you find something you like!

STARTERS

Rick Portacello Mushroom Sliders   $9
Veggie option getting a crack at our permanent menu for the first time.

Carlos JalaPeña Poppers (15)     $7
Often, you’ll miss your mouth completely when you try to eat these delicious goat-cheese-stuffed and deep-fried peppers, but when they connect, they connect with big flavor. For the price, we think it’s worth a couple of swings and misses.

Cheese Cheese Sabathia     $13
Selection of artisanal cheeses from Wisconsin, Ohio, and New York. We coat each cheese in cream cheese and top it off with a lovably crooked ball cap made of cocoa frosting.

Miguel Olivo Tapenade     $10
Thick crostini, roasted capers.

The Prince Fielder    $32
All of the above.

The David Wells     $37
The Prince Fielder, beer battered and deep-fried. Served as a misshapen brick.

The Rod Beck     $55
The David Wells, served with a six-pack of Old Style cans and a “bump.”

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Our ongoing quest, in the manner of a noble knight-errant, is to assign cool nicknames to players rather than indulge in the tired, lamewad paradigm of assigning cool players nicknames. Before we launch the latest installment, however, a trip through our Hall of Honouur, which is so stately, so regal, so much itself a celebration of the Norman Conquest, that an extra British-English unstressed “u” is required for proper spelling. …

“Bad Miracle” – Wily Mo Peña
“Captain Black Tobacco” – John Danks
“$45 Couch” – Yuniesky Betancourt
“Liván Hernández” – Liván Hernández
“Frog in the Pot” – Carlos Zambrano
“Aqua Velva Man” – Chase Utley
“Victorian Sex Rebel” – John Axford
“Good, Round Friend” – Prince Fielder
“I Am Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass” – Kyle Farnsworth
“Interrobang” – Adrián Beltré

And the nickname now available for purchase? It’s “Turbaconducken”!

Denotations, Connotations, Implications, Intimations, and Incriminations:

Obviously, this is in honor of the holiday devoted to three of the seven deadly sins: gluttony, sloth and Dallas Cowboys football. And that brings us to Turbaconducken. A pleasing mash-up of delicious fowl and piggies from Disney movies or uniquely American abomination?

In baseball terms, is it a player who boasts a combination of skills and bestowals that was previously unimaginable, like, say, Babe Ruth? Or is it a player who is so awful at so many things that he induces dry heaves in the discriminating fan, like, say, Marv Throneberry? He is either very good or very bad, depending upon how you, the Thanksgiven reader, feel about Turbaconducken. And that’s why the blast field of the forthcoming nomination process figures to be wide and awful to behold.

Prototypes from Baseball’s Gauzy Past:

I’ve already given you Babe Ruth and Marv Throneberry. Another possibility is a player who looks like he would be delicious if wrapped in bacon and served as a main course. Jeff Juden, for instance. Or Rich Garces.

Guiding, Determinative Query:

What current major-league player should be nicknamed “Turbaconducken”?!

The convention floor, which is filled with innards and Episcopalian landowners (but, as of yet, not the innards of Episcopalian landowners), is open for nominations …

Yes, I too wonder where the hot dogs are.

Let’s see if we can answer your questions right out of the gate.

Yes, there is a site dedicated to making logos with food. Yes, that is an Oakland A’s logo made of relish and mustard. Yes, it’s both brilliant and useless. No, it isn’t plausible to ask anyone with any taste (cultural or epicurean) to eat a mustard and ketchup Pee-Wee Herman. Yes, the deconstructed red pepper of a Texas Rangers logo looks both disgusting and delicious, depending on how hungry you are and how much you like the Rangers. No, I do not want any pureed chicken salad, portobello mushroom and pepper Jason Voorhees. No, I do not know what the artist’s goals are. Yes, I also hope he really likes food that looks nigh inedible.

Hopefully that answers all your questions because thus concludes your lesson on the daguerreotype of the day.

What was that you were saying again.

Walk up the first base side of the 100 level at ATT Park and you spot the premium brew stands every once in a while. Sierra Nevada. Heineken. Anchor Steam. Blue Moon. Meh. Better than the alternatives but nothing to really pen the proverbial letter home (or beer review) about.

Turn the corner towards the outfield and your appraisal of the park shifts more positive immediately. For one, you’re looking out at the bay, down at McCovey Cove. And then you scan left and you get a view like the cameraphone snapshot above. Does it really matter what beer you have in your hand when appreciating that view?

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Confused.

I’m no pro at baby-rearing: I’ve just been babysitting my four-month-old nephew for a week-plus. But, that week coincided with opening weekend, and so an interesting parallel was born. The teams that were supposed to contend – they are not unlike crying babies. There are only four basic approaches to mellowing out a crying baby, this semi-expert says.

Feed the Baby
In this case, feed the baby with information about why the team will right ship. Talk about sample sizes and fluke in-game occurrences. Empty the bottle of its contents: reason based on precedent. Point out that we’re only about 2.5% of the way into the season, and what that might look like in another sport – half-way through the first game in an NFL season, for example. Keep feeding until the baby is sated, and then burp them so they don’t get indigestion.

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