Atomic Bacon Bombers appear far less atomic, bacony, explosive than advertised

Did I not tell you that Nancy Luna was good? She tweeted a link to my post from earlier, and now, barely three hours after I implored readers to get me photos of the Atomic Bacon Bombers from Taco Bell, I have them.

The Internet is so f@#$ing awesome. You all realize that, right? I feel like I’m privileged to be part of the last generation of people who will remember life before the Internet blew up, because I can recall a time when I wouldn’t have had any way of even finding out that Taco Bell was testing Atomic Bacon Bombers in Tustin, Calif., no less had photographic evidence of their existence a few hours later. And so now that I can do all that, I so appreciate what I’ve got here at my fingertips: all this wonderful, bacony information.

These come courtesy of Luna’s reader Blake. I hope it’s cool that I’m just yanking them off his posterous blog, which you should check out because Blake is a hero.

Not much to look at. When I hear “atomic” I expect something massive. I guess I shouldn’t, since Atomic Fireballs weren’t all that large and the atomic buffalo wings at the place near my house are just normal wing-sized, but, well, I don’t know.

I guess when I heard “Atomic Bacon Bombers” and “Taco Bell” together, it just sounded to me like the Holy Grail or something, like it would be tremendous and spectacular. Maybe Taco Bell’s answer to the Bacon Explosion, all covered in Lava Sauce and wrapped in a Grilled Stuft Burrito, and with some Crunchy Red Strips thrown in there for good measure.

But seeing the actual Atomic Bacon Bomber there, so tiny in Blake’s fingers, it just looks pitiful. I’m holding out hope that Blake is gigantic — or at least has monstrous hands — and the Atomic Bacon Bombers are at least the size of a normal taco, but it really doesn’t seem likely. And Blake’s review doesn’t help the Atomic Bacon Bombers’ case for awesomeness:

Look like little mini breaded things with bacon bits attached all around. Inside has no bacon but has cheese and little chunks of peppers – maybe jalepenos? Cheesy, spicy, supposed to be full of bacon, but lacking in bacon flavor.

Oh, Taco Bell: You had my hopes so high. Oh, the Internet: How you foster dreams in the afternoon, then crush them in the evening. This is the saddest day for lovers of bacon and Taco Bell since the Bacon Club Chalupa came out and disappointed.

Burying the lede, and a plea for help

Listen: Nancy Luna, who writes the Fast Food Maven blog for the Orange County Register, does a tremendous job. Obviously. She blogs about fast food.

And she appears to be a fan of, or at least fascinated by the Taco Bell Breakfast tests running in certain markets, and she’s one of the few decent journalists out there providing the hungry world with investigative reports on and photos of what Taco Bell is serving up before 11 a.m.

But with all due respect to Ms. Luna, she’s guilty of burying the lede in a recent update on various Taco Bell test items being served at a location in Tustin, Calif.

Check it out. This is 12 paragraphs deep:

Now, about these pastries and snack items. This continues to be an odd Taco Bell experiment.

The double fudge brownie, along with an atomic bacon bomber, are new to the Tustin menu. I tried the brownie, which was lightly dusted with powdered sugar….

Whoa, whoa, whoa. I’m sorry. Back one step. Did you just say “atomic bacon bomber”? Did I read that right?

I did. How is that not the title of this blog post? How is the front page headline of OCRegister.com anything other than “Tustin Taco Bell now serving Atomic Bacon Bomber”?

Atomic Bacon Bomber!

!!?!?!??!?!

I e-mailed Nancy, and she politely explained that she didn’t even notice the item until after she was too full from sampling the new Pacific Shrimp Taco and the Taco Bell test brownie, which is, on its own, pretty fascinating.

I don’t know what the people of Tustin did to deserve a Taco Bell that serves breakfast, lunch, dinner, Fourthmeal, and dessert, but damn, I have to move to Tustin.

Until then, I need your help, TedQuarters readers. My traffic tracker tells me that this blog has been visited from Tustin IP addresses at least a dozen times, not to mention a bunch more from surrounding towns in Southern California.

Who’s going to help me? Someone needs to get out to the Tustin Taco Bell and find out what the Atomic Bacon Bomber is. I’ll need pictures and a full report. Please, it’s for the sake of all humanity.

End of an era

According to Steve Popper’s Twitter, Anderson Hernandez has been claimed on waivers by the Indians.

The timing is a little funny, since the Mets need middle infielders, but Hernandez had no options remaining on his contract (hence being available on waivers) and isn’t very good, so it’s not something to be broken up about.

And I guess I should amend that to say the Mets need decent middle infielders. They have no shortage of crappy middle infielders, although those ranks just thinned by one.

I can’t really continue without it becoming a rant about Alex Cora, and I promised no more of those until Opening Day, so I’ll stop. But I’ll say this: I’m upset that this severely diminishes my opportunities to use the nickname for him forwarded by Dave G in the comments section not too long ago, Anderfail Failnandez.

Looking back and forward

I’m scrambling a bit today and I’ve got a delicious lunch meeting on the horizon, so I’ll turn it over to some TedQuarters readers.

Remember reader Jim from yesterday? Turns out he doubles as writer Jim. Here’s a timeline of the Mets’ 2009 season he compiled for Vanity Fair. It’s likely nothing you didn’t live through, and it’s a bit brutal to recollect, but it’s sort of hilarious to see it all spelled out in order like this. And some of the juxtapositions are great:

June 1, 2009: The Mets are winning—until J.J. Putz enters the ballgame. He faces five batters, gets none of them out, and gives up four runs. Afterward, Mets manager Jerry Manuel looks on the bright side: “The good thing is, he threw strikes.”

June 5, 2009: J.J. Putz goes on the disabled list with bone spurs in his pitching elbow. He is out for the season.

That being said (to paraphrase Larry David), Steve Sidoti from Seven Train to Shea‘s putting together videos to get Mets fans excited about 2010. My favorite part of this one? The first three home runs are pulled to left. Nothing groundbreaking, just always fun to remember that it did sometimes happen.

Finally, and speaking of the 2010 Mets, Chris M made a pretty interesting point via e-mail yesterday regarding recent comments from Jerry Manuel and Omar Minaya about where the Mets’ prospects will start the season, and the reaction from Mets fans about what the comments imply. It’s this:

Most people seem to focus on this “lack of communication” between Jerry and Omar, and see it as some type of problem.  I have a different take.  Omar is the GM and Jerry is the manager; they do not have the same job.  Omar puts together a roster, Jerry’s job is to get the best out of that roster and motivate his players.  I’m sure Jerry hears what Omar is saying and understands that some of these guys will be in the minors, but what is wrong with the manager going to bat for some of these young kids?  These are players that, if all goes well, will be playing for him in the next year or two.  Shouldn’t Jerry say things like he’s saying to boost the confidence of some of the young players?  Show that he believes in them and that they belong with the big club, even if he knows they won’t be here just yet?

Items of note

Ken Rosenthal agrees that the Mets shouldn’t start the season with Jenrry Mejia in the Major League bullpen, but neglects to mention the big, overarching, Duh! Magazine reason that Patrick Flood spelled out last week: Starting pitchers are more valuable than relievers.

Joe Janish wonders why a spot somewhere on the Mets’ staff isn’t Nelson Figueroa’s to lose.

Last night’s Nets’ game story last night in the Daily News doesn’t even mention the game, and it’s pretty awesome. Great idea by Julian Garcia to dig up a guy from the team the Nets might best for worst ever.

Good feature on TedQuarters favorite Ubaldo Jimenez from Jeff Passan. Miguel Olivo floats the idea here, and I agree: Sleeper candidate for the 2010 NL Cy Young.

The legend of Mike Ryan

The Mets were off today and I promised not to write about Alex Cora any more, so here’s a random story:

A grisly 1950 Long Island Rail Road crash cost Rockville Centre, N.Y. its best shot at a single transcendent local legend. The head-on collision, which killed 32 commuters, so spooked Sandy Koufax’s parents that they scooped up the young southpaw and moved him back to Brooklyn, rendering his four-year stint in the village little more than a footnote in the town’s history.

But the accident prompted the LIRR to elevate the rails in Rockville Centre, and ultimately led to the creation of a more fleeting local legend, nearly half a century later.

Mike Ryan didn’t go to my elementary school and he wasn’t in my grade — he was a class ahead of me. But I knew all about him, because every kid in the town did. In every schoolyard, hours were passed recounting tales of his athletic grandeur, like we were old men in a barber shop, only we were 12. It only makes sense if you saw the kid play.

By sixth grade, every kid in town had his own story about the time he got a hit off Mike Ryan. Braggarts said they lined a triple into the gap, or something similarly unlikely. Funny kids like me said they closed their eyes and stuck the bat out and looped a single over the shortstop’s head.

None of them were true. I’m almost certain that Mike Ryan never allowed a hit in his entire Little League pitching career. He may have walked a few batters or occasionally beaned some unfortunate soul, but there’s no way anyone ever made solid contact with his fastball.

And for a 12-year-old who couldn’t have been playing competitive sports for more than a few years, he certainly had a lot of Paul Bunyan myths around him.

I’m pretty sure the legends were perpetuated by the fact that half the kids didn’t even show up when they found out they were slated to face Mike Ryan’s team, for fear they might actually have to bat against him, or d him up in basketball.

One story held that he dunked in a CYO basketball game in sixth grade. Sounds crazy, I know. But we believed it.

The other centered on those tracks.

Rockville Centre has a few Little League fields, but the nicest — the showcase, where the annual Long Island regional finals were held — is Hickey Field, right off Sunrise Highway.

The now-elevated LIRR tracks run along a concrete trestle until just behind Hickey’s left field fence, where the trestle runs into a dirt hill that supports the tracks at the elevated level until they emerge again a few hundred yards down the road in Baldwin.

And though no one ever could provide a first-hand account, the greatest and most persistent Mike Ryan legend held that he put one over the train tracks at Hickey, a shot I’d estimate at easily, I don’t know, 320 feet? 330? Too far for a 12-year-old, for sure.

Ryan’s Achilles heel was that, in addition to being a great athlete, he was about the nicest guy in the world, plus girls thought he was beautiful. By the time high school rolled around, I guess he realized he found the comforts of women and weed a lot more fun than the pressures of being everyone’s local hero, and so never did much to make the most of his absurd talents.

They were still enough to land him a spot deep in the varsity basketball team’s rotation in his senior year, though. And once, late in a blowout, he got an open look on a breakaway and threw one down. The place erupted.

“He’s still got it!” someone yelled.

Later, when a few of my friends and I were back from college putting around for the summer, we went to Hickey Field to play home-run derby on the short fences there.

My buddies are a pretty strong lot, and the longest shots were hit up the hill near the tracks and just about to the tracks, but never quite over the tracks. So we joked about how we used to believe Mike Ryan actually hit one over the train tracks in Little League.

As we did, one of the town’s orange parks and recreation trucks pulled up. We assumed we were getting kicked off the field. My friends started collecting the baseballs as I started walking over to the pickup, planning to give the guy bluster about how we weren’t doing anything wrong.

The truck door opened and Mike Ryan got out, hair unkempt and eyes bloodshot, a bit tanner and thinner than we’d last seen him.

“Mind if I take a few cuts?”

For a local legend?

“Not at all.”

But it wasn’t a few cuts.

I swear this on my life: My buddy lobbed one in, and the very first pitch Ryan saw, he drilled over the tracks.

“Oh… sorry about your ball.”

Nice guy, like I said.

And as he ambled back into the truck, retiring forever into local lore, my buddy, from the mound, spoke up:

“He’s still got it!”

Ridiculous Albert Pujols rumor produces decent quotes about and from Albert Pujols

So I’m sure you’ve heard by now, but Buster Olney reported on ESPN.com that the Phillies had internal discussions about trading for Albert Pujols.

Of course they did. No sarcasm. I bet every team has had internal discussions about trading for Albert Pujols at some point or another. They probably go something like this:

“Wouldn’t it be cool if we could trade for Albert Pujols?”

Then they end, because they’re unfeasible and because wishcasting will get you nowhere in a Major League front office.

If Pujols did somehow end up on the Phillies in a massively lopsided swap for Ryan Howard, I’d leave the country. No sarcasm there, either.

True story: When my fiance (now wife) was applying to medical school, I was happy to move to anyplace she wanted to go, with only two rules. 1) There had to be a Major League team there. 2) Not Philadelphia.

If Pujols wound up with the Phillies, punishing the Mets some 19 times a year, I’m out. That’s just too much to bear. I can go blog about baseball in Japan or Mexico or Australia or the Netherlands.

Anyway, the rumor seems to have really riled up the Phillies and Cardinals, and produced a couple of telling quotes about and from Albert Pujols:

“I see Albert today and he’s exactly like he always is.” – Tony La Russa.

That sounds about right. Albert Pujols strode into Cardinals’ camp that morning exactly like he always is: completely and utterly awesome. I imagine he showed up prepared to hit about .330 with an OBP around .430 and a .650 slugging while playing excellent defense. You know, “exactly like he always is.”

“There’s people, stupid, that like to write something when it’s not the truth.” – Albert Pujols.

I believe, Buster Olney, that Albert Pujols just called you stupid. That… sucks. One time Willie Randolph yelled at me, but I’m really glad I’ve never had one of the top 10 hitters in the history of baseball call me stupid.

That might make me leave the country, too.

The Pelfrey Madness Extrapolation

Rob Neyer reacts to David Pinto’s reaction to a Dallas News interview with pitcher C.J. Wilson about the Rangers’ defense.

Wilson says:

Now, it’s like people are really excited to play here, to pitch with Elvis Andrus at shortstop, and Mike Young at third base, and Kinsler at second and Chris Davis at first. For me, that’s a big thing for us, is that our defense is so much better that people are excited to be pitchers now for us.

Pinto says:

Better defense means less frustration for the pitcher and less work as he doesn’t need to get four outs in an inning.

Neyer says:

This leads to an obvious question: Are we undercounting the impact of fielding? …  Brainy sorts have made a great deal of progress in separating pitching and fielding, but it occurs to me that there might still be a great deal of work to be done.

I say: This makes me think about Mike Pelfrey and all his supposed mental issues last season.

We know 2009 was stressful for Big Pelf. He became a father. His ERA swelled. He ran laps around Coors Field.

But perhaps more maddening than all that, he yielded a high rate of groundballs in front of an infield that often included Luis Castillo at second and Alex Cora at short, and, to boot, David Wright having a rough year with the glove at third.

When people argue that Mike Pelfrey’s struggles in 2009 were all mental, I usually counter that he was mostly the victim of that awful defense behind him, since many of his rate stats were similar to those in his breakout 2008 season.

But I rarely consider that we could all be right, and that the crummy defense could have made Pelfrey crazy. I mean, after all, it made me crazy just to watch.

One of the weird tidbits in Pelfrey’s statline from 2009 that often goes unnoticed was that he yielded only nine home runs in his first 24 starts, then nine more in his last seven. Randomness? Could be. Did he tire due to the Verducci effect? Possibly.

Or did he tire of watching grounders dribble by his lead-footed infielders and just start chucking it?

I have no answers, of course. I’m not privy to Mike Pelfrey’s mental state and I probably shouldn’t be speculating about it.

But I suppose, like Neyer and Pinto suggest, it’s important to consider all the various ways defense that might affect a pitcher’s game beyond what could be measured.