Reporting Tim Baffoe
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By Tim Baffoe-
(CBS) Full disclosure—I’m banging this drum again to anger people who don’t want to think. Call me a troll, I don’t care. People have to get angry at being wrong about something before they begin to consider converting to the correct side.
Matt Cain’s perfect game Wednesday night was impressive as all hell. Thoroughly dominant. Cain tied the record for most strikeouts in a perfect game with 14 held by Sandy Koufax vs. the Cubs in 1965.
And like all 21 other perfect games, Cain relied on eight other guys in order to achieve the feat. His performance was not as individually impressive as Kerry Wood’s 20K game of 1998. And before you come at me with the very empty and inaccurate “PERFECT IS PERFECT! YOU CAN’T BE BETTER THAN PERFECT! I DRIVE A DODGE STRATUS!” retort, understand that I have numbers on my side.
Pesky, awful math have I. As Dave Cameron of Fangraphs notes, Cain’s game Wednesday night had a sabermetric Game Score of 101, tied for second best ever in a nine-inning start with Koufax’s game and Nolan Ryan’s no-hitter in 1991. There is no 102, 103, or 104. There is a score of 105, and that’s the Wood game. Cameron notes Game Score isn’t perfect—no statistic is—but it helps to show that perfection is not necessarily the best.
On to your questions. All emails and tweets are unedited.
Got any last minute Father’s Day gift ideas? I hate shopping for people.—T.C.
Well, unless you hate your dad, definitely not these, the only good thing about which is that I got credit for finding those in the piece from SB Nation even though I saw them on 670 The Score producer Brett Lyons’ Facebook page (he obviously owns a pair) and gave him credit first, but I guess even SB Nation doesn’t like Brett Lyons.
I, too, hate shopping for other people. Giving gifts I don’t have a problem with, but I hate malls with an absolute passion, and online shopping for others is so sketchy. And you never really know if the person likes what you got them, and then you’re haunted with that feeling that you suck and a loved one hates you. So, check that, I hate giving gifts also.
Luckily my dad is easy to shop for because no matter what I get him for Father’s Day, Christmas, or his birthday, he responds the same way: “Why did you do this? This is too much. C’mon.” They’re lotto tickets, dad, take it easy.
Until it closed down a few years ago, the automatic Father’s Day gift for my dad was lots of meat from the Best’s Kosher plant on 1000 W. Pershing. Hot dogs, salami, corned beef, pickles, you name it. As with many of the gifts I got my dad when I still lived at home, I bought them with myself in mind, and much of his gift became my gift because I’m very smart. Not sure if he’s watched the entire series of Planet Earth I got him, but I watched it about 10 times.
So I think you can’t go wrong with meat. Unless your dad is a vegetarian, in which case I’m sorry you have a lame dad.
Overall, great dads don’t care about material stuff. They want to eat well, people to shut up, and their kids not to be an embarrassment. That’s why I get my dad meat, rarely call him, and am two-thirds good.
#TFMB Does Old Man Ricketts have the potential to reach Marge Schott bigotry territory?—@MrRdgrsNghbrhd
Both are pretty detestable, but the two are different in their respective modus operandi.
Joe Ricketts certainly is very much opposed to President Obama—or Barack Hussein Obama as he makes sure to refer to him—but that doesn’t necessarily make him a bigot. Many assume because he gives so much cash to GOP causes that he is inherently conservative when it comes to issues of gay marriage, a cause that Ricketts’ daughter, Laura, who is openly gay, has fought to legalize. Laura herself, though, has said that her father has always been supportive of her sexuality and seemingly not overly concerned with the gay marriage issue.
I won’t automatically consider someone a bad person just because I disagree with his/her politics, and I do not agree with many things Joe Ricketts believes in politically. Marge Schott, on the other hand, was a blatant bigot. She, on more than one occasion, expressed it in various forms—against African Americans, Jews, and Asians, as far as I know. She infamously also showed some sympathy for Adolf Hitler. I assume she did some very inappropriate things with that St. Bernard that was always with her, too. Thankfully, she’s long dead.
Just a few comments on the service industry.
Idiot customer: “What beer do you have on tap?”
Server/Bartender (formerly, me): List 20 good imports without skipping a beat…
Idiot customer: “I’ll have a bud light.”
WHAT PLACE DOES NOT HAVE BUD LIGHT? C’mon.
Fancy lady customer: “What white wine do you have?”
Server/Bartender (again, me): Discuss a few good whites…
Fancy lady: ”I’ll have a white zin.”
Enjoy reading your stuff man…good talk.—Fishers Dave
Many customers abuse the ability to make a server do whatever the hell they want, hence the hatred most service industry workers have for the necessary evil that is the customer. A server is not your damn toy, people, and there’s a difference between desiring service perks and demanding somebody go beyond the boundaries of basic decency.
Two women were dining in where I work the other day, one with an infant. Now, I’m a firm believer in not bringing young children to restaurants because they bother other people, and that’s not fair to others looking to enjoy their dining experience instead of hearing your kid cry or yell or bang silverware or put all the toilet paper in the bathroom in the toilet or sink and empty the soap dispenser all over the floor (which they do—your little angel is evil.) You chose to be a have a child, now deal with the drawbacks, one of which is either pay for a babysitter or keep your ass at home. But I digress.
At one point during the meal, the baby crapped itself as babies and the French are one to do. The logical solution to that would be taking the child to the bathroom and changing its diaper, correct? Well, not to that mother. She wanted to change the baby AT THE DAMN TABLE. And for some reason she could not understand why this was frowned upon and not allowed. Maybe other people don’t want exposed feces in the vicinity of their meals. Maybe having exposed poop in the dining area is a health code no-no. Maybe that woman is criminally stupid and will most likely raise her child to be so as well.
“But what if the bathroom conditions are suitable for changing?” Your problem. Where I work has no changing station in the restrooms. Why? Because screw your ignorant self for bringing a baby to a restaurant. Sorry, little guy, you have to sit in your own filth because mommy and daddy just had to take advantage of two-for-one entrée and margarita night. It’s frightening and maddening that such parents exist. And they do.
Thanks for emailing, tweeting, and reading. If your question did not get answered this time, that does not necessarily mean I am ignoring it. It may be saved for the next mailbag. Hopefully you’re a slightly better person now than you were ten minutes ago. If not, your loss.
Want your questions answered in a future Mailbag? Email them to email@example.com or tweet them with the hashtag #TFMB. No question, sports or otherwise, is off limits (with certain logistical exceptions, e.g. lots of naughty words or you type in Portuguese or you solicit my death). If you email, please include a signature.
Tim Baffoe attended the University of Iowa and Governors State University and began blogging at The Score after winning the 2011 Pepsi Max Score Search. He enjoys writing things about stuff, but not so much stuff about things. When not writing for 670TheScore.com, Tim corrupts America’s youth as a high school English teacher and provides a great service to his South Side community delivering pizzas (please tip him and his colleagues well). You can follow Tim’s inappropriate brain droppings on Twitter @Ten_Foot_Midget , but please don’t follow him in real life. He grew up in Chicago’s Beverly To read more of Tim’s blogs click here.