This is either misleading editing or evidence of the world’s greatest monkey photojournalist

So a monkey stole a British guy’s camera and took a bunch of pictures of himself and his monkey friends. Here is one of the photos attached to the article:

Now that’s just a great, great monkey photo. Professional quality. Desktop background good. Look at his goofy monkey teeth!

The photo is credited to David J. Slater, the owner of the monkey-swiped camera, and not A. Monkey. But the article really makes it seem like this is one of the photos taken by the monkey. Could that be? Did a monkey really take this photo of himself? Because that’s amazing if that’s true.

Via Boing Boing.

Twitter Q&A-type thing

That’s a really good question, and one I obviously can’t answer definitively. For tomorrow’s Baseball Show, I talked with Peter Gammons about the Mets’ approach to the trading deadline and he made several interesting points. I don’t want to scoop that here, but I’ll say this: He noted that no team last year took on as much money as Beltran stands to make after the deadline this year.

That obviously doesn’t mean Beltran is immovable, especially given the season he’s having. But how many teams in contention that need an extra bat in the outfield (or at DH) have the financial flexibility to take on Beltran’s contract? Plus remember that Beltran’s contract includes both a no-trade clause and a clause saying he can’t be offered arbitration after the season, meaning it could be harder to work out a deal and any acquiring team doesn’t stand to get draft picks when he leaves.

This could be wishful thinking on my part, imagining a scenario wherein the Mets determine they’re best off keeping Beltran around for the asses he’ll help put in seats for the remainder of the season. Or they could take on some of his contract and try to get a better return. But that doesn’t really answer the question.

Last year the Yankees gave up Mark Melancon and Minor Leaguer Jimmy Paredes for Lance Berkman. It’s not a perfect comp for a variety of reasons: Beltran is more valuable in the field but comes with greater injury risk and Berkman was in the midst of a down year by his standards. But maybe that’s a reasonable expectation: A potentially useful young arm and a marginal-at-best prospect? Or am I being too pessimistic? I’ll admit I suck at this.

As for Rodriguez: Gammons sounded pretty optimistic about the Mets’ ability to trade him, even despite all the money he’s owed. I’ll leave the haul part of it to him. You’ll have to tune in tomorrow for that. CLIFFHANGER!

So we’re looking for a surprisingly good sandwich that’s still not great, with a couple of exceptional elements but a couple that are holding it back. OK… off the top of my head:

The Mets are a ham and cheese sandwich on white bread with spicy mustard, with a single slice of incredibly flavorful imported prosciutto on there. Obviously the prosciutto here is Jose Reyes. Oh, and the cheese is really good too — a fine Havarti, we’ll call that Beltran.

The ham is a fine, thin-sliced Boar’s Head deli ham. That’s the rest of the lineup. It’s getting the job done but it’s not overwhelmingly awesome. The white bread is the pitching staff, and it’s doing the best it can with what it has and no offense to white bread but man, this sandwich would be better if it were on something other than plain old white bread.

The spicy mustard is Terry Collins. That strikes me as appropriate for some reason. Like all sandwiches, this would be better with bacon, or David Wright.

In truth, probably Madden. But that’s a boring answer, especially since I still play Madden today (BTW, the lockout did not seem to impact the undefeated 2011-12 Jets in my franchise mode).

I always played more sports games than anything else, so I’m going to give some love to Micro-League Baseball on the Commodore 64 — the nerdiest game ever invented. It was basically Moneyball before Moneyball; you didn’t even play the games yourself, you just put a bunch of stats into the computer and then let the computer play them out for you. But I created teams of me and my friends and pitted them against the 1927 Yankees and such. Ah yes, “my friends.” I swear.

How many people go on a roast dais? None of these people know me so they wouldn’t have anything funny to say about me, but if I’m picking I guess I should just pick the people I think are funniest since I’m going to be sitting there anyway so I might as well enjoy some good standup: Dave Chappelle, Louis CK, Jake Johannsen, Mike Birbiglia, David Cross, Norm MacDonald and Stephen Colbert.

 

Songs that rhyme “girl” with “world”

In no particular order, but I’m starting with “Cumbersome” because it came on XM last night and got me thinking about how many songs rhyme “girl” with “world.” Also because that song’s particular instance of rhyming “girl” with “world” is, well, cumbersome.

This is by no means an exhaustive list, but I’m looking to make it one. So if you know of others, comment or email me and I’ll add them. A bunch of these came courtesy of the gentlemen of Das Brodeo, three of whom are currently driving from Florida to DC and apparently have little else to do besides sit around thinking about songs that rhyme “girl” with “world.” Also, after I already started compiling, I did a Google search and found a few I hadn’t thought of here and here, and got more from the good people of Twitter.

Seven Mary Three — Cumbersome
No Doubt — Just a Girl
Cat Stevens — Wild World
Aqua — Barbie Girl
Madonna — Material Girl
Brooks and Dunn — Rock my World (Little Country Girl)
Nine Days — Story of a Girl
Prince — The Most Beautiful Girl in the World
Jamiroquai — Cosmic Girl
Journey — Don’t Stop Believin’
Martha and the Vandellas — Dancing in the Streets
Queen — Fat Bottom Girls
The Beach Boys — California Girls
Billy Idol — Dancing With Myself
Cyndi Lauper — Girls Just Wanna Have Fun
Billy Joel — Uptown Girl
Chromeo — Needy Girl
Notorious B.I.G. – Nasty Girl
Bruno Mars — Beautiful Girls
Pet Shop Boys — West End Girls
Violent Femmes — Please Do Not Go
Beatles — I Feel Fine
Led Zeppelin — Ramble On
Weezer — Cold Dark World
The Rolling Stones — Stupid Girl
2Pac — White Man’s World
Elliott Smith — Say Yes
Bob Dylan — Brownsville Girl
AM Radio — End of the World
U2 — Grace
Jay-Z — All Around the World
Mariah Carey — Your Girl
Ben Folds — Rent-A-Cop
Red Hot Chili Peppers — Californication
Green Day — Extraordinary Girl
Boyz-II-Men — Around the World
Black Keys — Psychotic Girl
Tom Petty — Century City
Elvis Costello — Party Girl
White Stripes — Fell in Love With a Girl
Dion — The Wanderer
Busta Rhymes — World Go Around
Black Sabbath — Sabbra Cadabra
Elton John — Island Girl
AC/DC — Girls Got Rhythm
Celine Dion — The Power of the Dream
Prodigy — Girls
Dead Milkmen — Punk Rock Girls
Snoop Dogg — Ain’t No Fun
Steve Miller Band — Quicksilver Girl
Gwen Stefani — Rich Girl

Narrative adjusted

Sandy Alderson was pigeonholed early in his administration as a risk-averse executive who would strongly reject the idea of a mega-contract for any player, but specifically an injury-prone one such as Jose Reyes, who did not have the Mets’ general manager’s favorite asset: elite on-base percentage.

Alderson warned not to stereotype him, and that decisions would be based on information absorbed during the season.

We should have listened….

Translation: Alderson has learned to admire what Reyes does to such a degree that neither a minor hamstring injury nor the lack of elite on-base skills is dimming his ardor to keep the shortstop.

Joel Sherman, N.Y. Post.

Oh what a story! Heartless, robotic, spreadsheet-crunching GM comes to town hellbent on trading a team’s lovable homegrown star shortstop, only to be won over by all the player’s intangibles in an effervescent, MVP-caliber first half. It reads like the treatment for Moneyball 2: Revenge of the Guys Without Manboobs.

Unless… unless… What if Sandy Alderson knew from the beginning of his tenure with the Mets that there is more than one tool with which to assess a baseball player? And what if talk of the Mets’ inevitable fire sale was overblown from the beginning?

Crazy. What kind of story is that?

Four errant stones dispatched the alpha to first base

Our ancestors had to learn to trust their neighbors, and the seeds of our mutuality can be seen in our simplest gestures, like the willingness to point out a hidden object to another, as even toddlers will do. Early humans also needed ways to control would-be bullies, and our exceptional pitching skills — which researchers speculate originally arose to help us ward off predators — probably helped. “We can throw much better than any other primate,” Dr. Wilson said, “and once we could throw things at a distance, all of a sudden the alpha male is vulnerable to being dispatched with stones. Stoning might have been one of our first adaptations.”

Natalie Angier, N.Y. Times.

Interesting. Back in college when I used to engage people in stupid pseudo-philosophical debates just for the sake of it, I often contended that baseball was the most civilized major sport because it was the one that least resembled a battle. I don’t really remember the particulars now — it was stupid, like I said.

But it turns out maybe baseball is some weird extension of a primal urge to cast off the alpha male from society by throwing stones at him, and the alpha male’s attempts to fend off those stones with a stick. Or something.

Good news is it doesn’t really matter how we came to baseball, only that we did. The rest of the Times article is pretty interesting too.

Following up

Following up on Saturday’s post: As of right now, 37 percent of TedQuarters readers would choose Bobby Parnell to close games if Francisco Rodriguez were traded. Count me among that 37 percent, assuming the team is locked in to using one guy in a traditional “closer” role.

Parnell leads all active Mets relievers in ERA and strikeouts per nine innings. Plus he’s relatively young and under team control for a while, meaning a stint as closer in the tail end of the 2011 campaign would amount to an audition, where inserting Jason Isringhausen in the job would shed little light on the team’s future bullpen makeup.

Baseball Prospectus currently has the Mets’ chances of making the playoffs at 2.5 percent — a longshot, if not an insurmountable one. If you’re looking to be optimistic, the odds are better that the Mets make the playoffs in 2011 than they were that they would have missed the playoffs on Sept. 17, 2007. Crazier things have happened, in other words, and we’ve seen them.

But regardless of how voraciously the Mets will be pursuing that 2.5 percent chance, they should look to trade Rodriguez in the next few weeks. Though his loss will make any playoff hunt more difficult, Rodriguez has not been so overwhelmingly great that his absence necessarily precludes contention, and his much-maligned vesting option will make it more difficult for the team to contend in 2012 by limiting the front office’s financial flexibility this offseason.

Plus, if the Mets can trade him to a team that will not use him to finish games — one not concerned about his option — they might get back a player to help mitigate his loss in the short term and help them in the future.

Well-run teams can find effective closers on the cheap. Converted starters and scrap-heap acquisitions often pay huge dividends in the back ends of bullpens. The Mets should be able to replace Rodriguez’s production — or something close, at least — at a fraction of the price, allocating that cash to positions that spend more than 70 innings a season on the field.

Mets-related items of note

Jose Reyes tweaked something in his left hamstring yesterday, which you probably know. From the very early reports, it doesn’t sound like it’s terribly severe, but then it almost never does from the early reports. So we’ll all sit here holding our breath and crossing our fingers until we know more, or until we see Reyes back on the field and healthy. Ruben Tejada is starting at shortstop today, with Angel Pagan leading off.

In less important and lighter news, Reyes was elected to start at shortstop for the National League All-Star Team, and Carlos Beltran made the squad as a reserve. The All-Star Game is a silly pageant, and though I’ve taken to blustering over individual selections in the past, it’s a bit of a fool’s errand. Due to the whims of the selection process, every year there are going to be several players left off the rosters better than several players included on them. It’s an exhibition.

The good news is that those of us who begrudgingly watch the All-Star Game will get to see that much more of Reyes and Beltran playing baseball this year (assuming they play). Plus it’s nice for them to get recognition — and bonuses — for the seasons they’re having.

On a completely unrelated note, the SNY Why Guys make the case that Bobby Parnell should take over as closer if the Mets deal Francisco Rodriguez before the deadline. I have maintained that the Mets should shop Rodriguez regardless of their situation in the standings to try to avoid getting saddled with his vesting option in 2012, but I’m not sure I’ve ever considered whom they should choose to close out games in his stead.

I think a case could be made for a couple different guys currently pitching in the Mets’ bullpen, but I won’t make any of them because I’m interested to see what you think. I only included active pitchers here, though if and when Taylor Buchholz returns he deserves consideration as well:

[poll id=”27″]

Fireworks are awesome

He’s right, you know.

Regular readers of this site may know that I spent many of my formative years on something of a pyromaniac bender, which included lighting off just about every type of firework I could get my hands on. Usually that just meant standard-issue thunderbombs, bottle rockets, jumping jacks and Roman candles, but one time — I must have been 13 or so — a friend got his hands on something, well… quite a bit larger.

I have no idea how he came by the thing, but it was one of the cake-style fireworks that sits on the ground and spouts off all sorts of awesome. Only this one was huge. Three friends and I took it down to Hempstead Lake State Park, a common locale for teenage high-jinx.

We had to carry it in a hockey bag to keep it hidden. To maintain the charade we actually Rollerbladed there holding hockey sticks, even though no teenager in his right mind would skate over a footbridge to play roller-hockey in a mostly wooded park when there were plenty of fine suburban streets around (Ed. note: Game off! Game on!“).

We waited until dusk — not full nightfall, in part to keep up the hockey thing, in part because that park got quite creepy at night. We cased out a decent clearing with some good hiding spots and paved getaways (remember: rollerblades) nearby and laid the thing down. The kid who acquired it lit it — his obvious right, though it meant running away on the dirt in stocking feet.

I guess none of us realized that Grucci-level fireworks extravaganzas have to come from somewhere, and that it might be even remotely possible for someone in our social circle to get his hands on something so inexplicably, explosively awesome. Hell, the hiding spot we picked wasn’t even an appropriate vantage point to see the wild, repeated bursts of colors high up in the air and — more frighteningly — near the tops of some nearby trees.

We froze, horrified. We were doomed to be either caught by park police and punished eternally by our parents or burned up in a forest fire of our own devising. Amazing as the display was, all of us only wanted it to end without incident.

But it kept going.

I imagine you realize that when you’re a terrified teenager fearing for your life a few seconds can feel like an eternity. I have no idea how long that thing lasted. Looking back now it feels like it must have been 20 minutes, though I know it must have been closer to one or two.

However long it took, the thing sure was still going when the cops showed up, and we sure were still only very mildly hidden behind a few trees maybe 20 yards away.

Luckily for our sake, the park police were more concerned with the possibility of fire than finding the perpetrators. Drowned out by the noise of the reports, we made a break for it. Last we saw before we stumbled and skated away, two officers were struggling to smother the still-spewing cake with a blanket — an extremely silly sight, really, but one none of us thought to laugh at until long after we rolled our way out of there.

Neither this site nor the SNY.tv blog network endorses reckless use of pyrotechnics without proper supervision. Be safe this weekend.

Sandwich of the Week

The glorious return.

The sandwich: Double-double “Animal style” from In-N-Out Burger, many locations, none anywhere near New York.

The construction: Two mustard-grilled beef patties on a toasted hamburger bun with lettuce, tomato, American cheese, pickles, tomato, lettuce, grilled diced onions and “spread” — basically Thousand Island dressing.

Important background information: You’ve probably heard of In-N-Out. Hell, you’ve probably even heard of ordering burgers “Animal style” there, even if it’s not on the menu and you’ve never been anywhere near one of the restaurants. By reputation, it is practically the Holy Grail of fast-food burgers, celebrated in classics as monumental as The Big Lebowski, compared — often favorably — to delicacies like those available at Five Guys and Shake Shack.

So the first thing that shocked me about In-N-Out Burger upon my entry to California was the chain’s availability. I thought it was something to be sought out when in the neighborhood to shake down Larry Sellers, not something I’d pass multiple times on drive from the Oakland airport to our hotel in San Francisco. It’s everywhere. I’m not sure if that’s always been the case, but it has been the case every time I’ve been to California — this one time, last week — so in my world that’s how In-N-Out Burger exists: A dominant California fast-food chain.

And definitely that: Fast food. And look, this website has an entire navigational tab devoted to Taco Bell and does not in any way judge more humble cuisines. But In-N-Out isn’t peddling the sort of hip, meta-fast-food pretense you find at Shake Shack, it’s plain-old fast food all the way: Red and yellow neon lights so bright you can’t stare right at them.

Because of its ubiquity and that beckoning fast-food glow, I went twice. The first, I ordered a regular double-double, minus the raw sliced onion — that’s not my bag. The second time, I opted for Animal style, figuring the diced grilled onions would be less intrusive. But I was hungry and I didn’t take a photo. There are plenty of pictures available on the Internet.

So, I guess: What it looks like.

And here’s the regular Double Double just so this post isn’t too texty:

How it tastes: Relative to what?

To my sky-high expectations: A bit disappointing. To Shake Shack and Five Guys: Not as good (more on that in a bit). To the standard fast-food burger chains, McDonald’s, Wendy’s and Burger King: Excellent.

Ordering it Animal-style is key; the second burger I had was so much better than the first that it’s a wonder they keep the mustard-grilling and extra pickles exclusive. They add a ton of vinegary tang to the affair, and even the onions — my old enemy — add a familiar greasy, sweet flavor to the thin, tasty beef patties.

The bun is good — toasting it was a great touch. And the lettuce and tomato are clearly way fresher than you get at most fast-food places, bringing juiciness to the sandwich and maybe helping you forget that you’re actively destroying yourself with red meat (and a side of underwhelming french fries).

But someone’s going to try to tell me that this meat, in terms of pure meaty deliciousness, stands a chance against the meat in the Shake Shack burger in a one-on-one taste test? C’mon. C’mon. Not even close.

Push comes to shove I’d take the Five Guys meat over this too. Plus there’s more of it, and at Five Guys I can find any topping I want — including bacon — right there on the menu with no need to spend time on the Internet uncovering secret codes before I go in. It’s awful cute that In-N-Out doesn’t let you know it’s full array of options, I guess, but really: Why?

But then, I’m not sure why anyone sees the need to pick a winner among the three. They present very distinct burgers and very distinct burger-eating experiences, and all — my various quibbles with In-N-Out noted here not withstanding — are plenty delicious. I will instead celebrate the work all three chains have done in elevating the standards set for this sandwich, as they undoubtedly have. Hooray for cheeseburgers.

What it’s worth: Only $3.15, plus the flight to California.

How it rates: 71 out of 100.