I wrote a dusty ol' swamp story a few weeks ago to try and train my fiction writing ability. It was okay. I kept it going with a sequel and now let's round it out with the Conclusion of ... The Swamp Trilogy.
This final installment shall be narrated by Reggie and the reader shall finally, once and for all, find out why there's so many god damned swampity monsters in that dusty ol' swamp.
Okay, let's begin....
1
Don't die on me, Jake. Don't die on me, Soul Brotha! You always thought it was your fault that those swampy monsters made it to our home. I even probably played a hand or two in convincing you of that ... but I was wrong. Those swamp monsters coulda followed anyone of us back ... it was just the tides of the rivers of fate that dictated it was you.
You can't die on me, Jake.
"Stay awake! Don't let go!" I implored to Jake with all my heart.
"Lady Luck just wasn't on my side today daddy-o .... I'm sorry Reg .... but it's my time," Jake responded as he gasped for breath.
"You 'aint gonna die, brotha, YOU 'AINT GONNA DIE ON ME!" I yelled.
I was scared. Jake risked his life to infiltrate the monsters underground lair ... he found their dark clandestined secrets and made it out of there alive to bring that information back to us. Those things musta caught on to him just as he was making his way out. Those monsters hit him in the leg with some kind of makeshift swamp-monster bodkin during his escape. When I found Jake ... he was covered in blood, bleeding out something fierce, he musta lost a boat load 'o blood making his way outta there.
"Hey, Reg ... you remember the day we met?" He asked.
"Ya .... man .... I do."
2
I met Jake in the Desert. That dusty ol' Desert where they had that eatery run by that nice Spanish lady. He helped me out that day, he most certainly did.
Me and Mama, Moms Yeager everyone called her ... she was my birthright mama though related by blood so I called her Mama instead of Moms ... it was just me and her in that Desert looking for a town or something. We were headin' west in search of better economic opportunities but half way through that Desert we both knew it was a mistake and we shoulda just stayed in our hometown.
Mama came down with some sunstroke or some kinda affliction because she caught the vapors, daddy-o, she caught the vapors something heavy out there ... and we were not even half the way through that dustily desert, man.
I had no choice but to hoist Mama on to my back and carry her the rest of the ways yonder, and outta that Desert.
"Don't worry, Mama, we'll make it outta here ... I promise."
There was no water in that sonnofa desert and I knew I was lying to her. We were gonna die there, right there in that stupid arid deserted Desert. We sure were.
A big sand bear stepped in front of my path. Funny how that works, huh? You know that feelin'? Like thangs get worse ... but they get so much more worser ... that they get better? It's funny ... but that's what it was. Not only was I dyin' o' thirst with my dyin' starvin' Mama on my back ... but now a hungry sand bear wanted to rip me up and gobble us up, daddy-o, 'aint that some shit?
"GROOOOOWL," the sand bear scowled.
"What is it, son?" said Moms Yeager.
"Oh 'aint nuthin' Mama .... just get some rest ... close your eyes." I assured her.
"Okay ...." she said.
I couldn't put her down to fight this thing or the bear would go for her ... the easy target first ... and then me. So I kept Mama on my back as I put my dukes up to wrassle this dusty ol' sandy bear. A minute ago ... for sure I thought I was dead .... but this sand bear got the andrenaline pumpin' inside of me something wild, baby, woooooooooooo!
"Come on! You want to make a meal outta my Mama ya dusty dusty sand varmint? Rightly first you best be makin' a meal outta me! But lemme tell ya .... I 'aint no push over, daddy-o, now whaddya say ya Sand Bear? You wanna do a few rounds of Dusty Desert Dancin' with yours truly?" I egged the Bear on.
The Bear raised his gigantic paws and they came crashing down on my head! It was funny again ... things got even worse but still more better as they worsened. Ya, I was now bleeding and half unconscious but I could feel it, dude! I COULD FEEL IT IN MY BONES! OW!
The bear came crashin' down with his paws on my head again ... but I quickly put my right hand under his sandy crotch, and then my left hand on his sandy back ... and all the while with my mama clung to my back .... I PICKED UP THE BEAR AND STARTED RUNNIN' AT FULL SPEED, DADDY-O!
"GRAAAAHAHAHHGGHGHGHA!" The Sand Bear yelled, it sounded surprised n' angry like a stupid idiot!
"You wanted to do some dusty desert dancin' bear! Now get ready for my ultra-TANGO, daddy-o!" I yelled.
I had the bear vertical now, his head pointing downward to the sandy ground ... all the while with my Mama on my back clinging for life .... I kept runnin' at full speed and then uncorked my Devastation Power Slam! KAPLAM! I landed on top of the sand bear!
It was out cold ....
"What was that, son?" asked Moms Yeager ... about 95% incoherently due to hunger and thirst.
"Just some dopey bear, Mama, gave me my second wind somethin' hot though ... I think I'm ready to walk again ... and get us outta this stupid desert...." I answered.
Just then I saw him, another traveler, walking parallel to me.
"Some Bear fight, man, nice Power Slam." He said to me.
"Thanks, man. Say, me and my Mama is pretty parched n' dry, daddy-o, you wouldn't happen to have any extra supplies in your gunny sack do ya?" I asked him.
"Sure do. Got some water n' dry rations to spare. Here take 'em .... you look pretty tired too ... maybe I could carry that nice ol' lady for a stretch, whaddya say?" Said the traveler.
".... Thanks, man." I said to him ... almost in tears ... but I kept 'em back.
"Name's Jake." He told me.
"My name's Reggie." I told him.
.... and that's how I met ol' Jake.
3
"I'm bringing ya back to town, Jake." I told him. He was almost unconscious.
"There 'aint no time, Reg. Those swamp monsters are planning their Final Attack, If you don't take this fool proof strategem I devised whilst incognito in their lair ... and carry it out post-haste ... all shall be lost, man." He told me.
"It's gonna hafta wait, Soul Brotha, you carried my Mama outta that Desert and into that dusty town with that restaurant run by that pretty Spanish lady ... now it's time for me to carry you." I said to 'em.
I took off my shirt and used it to as a make shift tourniquet to stop-gap his excessive bleedin' and then put 'em on my back and ran to our best motor boat and brought him back to town.
"JAKE! IS HE OKAY!?" Yelled Huang Si as I revved the boat into the swamp.
"He needs fixin', H-Si, get 'em to Gertie so she can patch 'im up." I told him.
"Where ya goin, Reg!?" Huang Si queried of me.
"I gotta go carry out Jake's plan ... there's no time! It's now or nevva, baby!"
I trusted Jake with Huang Si and one-eightied my motor boat back towards the swampity monsters slimey lair. I picked up the handwritten Plan that Jake entrusted to me. The Plan he devised under the cover of disguise as he lived for days in the swamp lair in disguise as a grimey briney swamp monsta.
I read the first three verses of the Plan.
"Those swamp monsters are smarter than they look. They might be aliens or government mega-soldiers. Whatever they are they 'aint no run-in-the-mill Swampity Monstas, daddy-o, no sirreee. Their leader has learned how to trick us. He/She/It can speak to us in human speak and is evolving and getting more smarts by the day. It wants us all dead .... the swamp monsters want all us humans to die so they can bring about a swampity monsterous revolution of immense proportions. We must stop them now! Whoever is readin' this ... this is what you gotta do .. you ready?"
I kept readin' it....
"Numero Uno: I left my disguise behind a rock to the northeast of their lair. You can recognize the rock formation cuz it looks like the Graceland swimmin' pool. It looks like a guitar sorta, daddy-o.
Numero Dos: They can only HEAR well ... these thangs don't smell good ... and sight-wise they are pretty dumb. They won't give you a hard time whilst in costume. It's a buncha slimey silver fish I strung together with chains .... and the hat is a lobster ... you gotta put the lobster on yer head. Now that you're in total incognito ... make your way to the lowest center of the lair ... that's where the smart monster is. And WATCH OUT ... Gertie if you're reading this then disregard Numero Three, but if a male is readin' this then read Numero Three (see under)....
Numero Three: The leader has taken the form of a HOT SWAMPY MERMAID LADY! AND SHE LOOKS PRETTY HOT! SO WATCH OUT! She will try to seduce you with her tendrils and the shape of her watta. You can't fall for her wiles cuz she's as evil as hell, daddy-o! Don't let her fool ya!
There was a few more verses but I'll save 'em for later. Right now I gotta get into that lair and down to the center ... and confront this .... this .... this ...
Hot Lady Mermaid Swampity Monsta?????
4
I found that "Graceland" rock formation Jake wrote 'bout in the Plan .... it didn't look like a guitar that much but the disguise was behind it as the Plan indicated. A buncha silver fish chained together like some kind of briney slime coat and a lobster that I was supposed to put on my head as a lobsta hat. It was still alive too.
I decked on the gear and became fully under-the-cover of clever guise. It was now time to beguile these swampy monsters, infiltrate their briney lair, and fight their trickster mermaid. Not a fraction of a moment's time was a lotted to waste. It was time to make haste!
I made my way past the lair's monster guards. They were none-the-wiser for alas I was incognito as shit, baby. Next I made my way down the cavernous slime lair. It was like a brine fest ... just a buncha hunka dirty fishy monsters doin' their thang like bein' slimey and gross and everything.
I got as down as I could get in that stinky lair ... and then the smell changed. It changed into something that smelled good! I looked through the doorway to the next room, a doorway with green arches, an intimidating doorway to say the least, daddy-o.
In that fine-smelling room was a SEXY FISH LADY! WHAT THE HECK? Jake was right, the leader took the form of a fish lady! Like a green/blue lady with gills n' tendrils. I got scared, and hot-unda-da-collar at that sight. I looked at the rest of the Plan....
"Numero Quatro, Daddy-O: While that swampy seductress was trying to lure me with her wiles so she could bite my head loose ... she backed away and ended her advances on me when she accidentally rubbed up against my gunny sack ... and contents of potato chips spilled out and she FREAKED. She started screamin' "SALT! SALT" and flailin' her tendrils about like a crazy son of a sailor!"
What the shit? I wondered. So I kept readin' Jake's Plan.
"Numero Ultimato: It's salt, daddy-o. It's salt. I left my gunny sack under a rock that kinda looks like a pear or like a stumpy banana. I got another bag of potater chips in that gunny sack. Throw it on her! Then, I dunno, if she doesn't die ... then I dunno ....
That's it. He wrote the last paragraph in his own blood. That Jake was a real man-of-gutso, something fierce. I hope Gertie patched him up right quick back at the swamp. He left me in the doledrums with the finisher to this Plan though, man. If the salt attack don't kill the swamp witch thing ... then what do I do, daddy-o?
What do I do, daddy-o?
5
"Hsssssssss, Come closer to me, Human, I want to see who is trying to enter my bed chambers at this late hour," The Swamp Monster Mermaid Leader Witch thing said to me.
Her skin was slimey and green n' blue ... but Jake was right she was pretty sexy.
"It's just me, Reggie." I said.
"Ooooooooh, Reggie, what nice name for a human, hisssssssss" she sexily said as she rubbed her sultry shoulders against me.
"Uhhh, now listen, lady, your army of swampy monsters has been wreckin' up a stew in the home that I love ... and I must ask you to put an end to these shenanigans or ...." I answered her.
"Or what, hiiiiissssss, you'll punish me? Mmmhmhmhmhmhm, Human,that sounds utterly delightful", she again sexily stated whilst her tendrils massaged my ears.
"Yo, like seriously, I 'aint playin'! I don't wanna have no sex with you! I want you and your ilk to leave my swamp ALONE!" I tried to resist but her tendrils and voice was sexy as sin, is what it was.
"Would you like to know the Shape of My Water, human?" She asked me as her sensual tendrils made their way down my neck.
"Shape of your Water? I don't wanna see the Shape of Your NOTHING lady!!!" I retorted to her.
At that point I reached my wit's end! This swampy harpee could never seduce me! My Soul Brotha almost bled to death over this nonsensery! I pulled out Jake's gunny sack, removed the bag of potater chips from it, ripped it open, and threw all the SALTY CHIPS all over her pretty fishy face!
"HISSISISISSSSSSSSSSSSS! AAAAAAAAAH! SALT! SALT!" The monster quivered and shook like a hunka hunka dirty briney shrimps in a bucket!
She, I mean it, started to lose its sexy exterior and under that clever guise was something so sickenin' I almost PUKED. She ... I mean It ... looked like a sack of fish chum feed after roastin' up in a hot swamp sun! She looked simply TERRIBLE!
"BRAAAAAAAAAAGHGHGHGHGHG!" The Monster Leader croaked and graggled at me all monstrosity-like.
"I'm sorry lady .... but this honeymoon is over. You 'aint even a lady at all. You are an evil swamp monster who wants to kill my friends and family ... and this ENDS NOW!" I declared with the undying vigor of one hundred champions.
It was time to tango....
6
"BRAGAGHGHGHGHG! HIIISSSSS! HUSSSS!!!! BLARGH!!!"
The monster charged at me with the intensity of a wild untamed stallion. I got the jump on it though and fastened it tightly in an arm bar.
"BRAHAHAHGGHG! HISSSSSS!"
"Looks to me you can't speak human in your final form, eh monster!? Don't matter none. I know what the words ouch and oh shit let me go mean through your slimey body language!" I told it as I increased the pressure on the arm lock ... whilst tendrils and scales snapped and broke off of the monster like cheap department store peanut brittle.
Just then it used its lowest tendril, which was probably the thang's damned penis for all I knew, to flip itself vertically ... which transferred the pressure I was applying to its arm over to my own!
"AW HELL TO NAW! DAMNIT MONSTA!" I said to it.
I tried to wriggle out of this reversed-arm-bar but could not .... so I started to think of my free arm and what it could do ... rightly then I dragged the monster towards me with my locked arm and right into my free arm ... with a stunning Short Arm Clothesline!
"BLAAAAGHH!"
It was surely in pain as it reacted with gurgles and screamin' to my Short Arm Clotheline! I broke my arm free and helped the monster to the ground. Whilst it lay prone ... I dropped the Atomic Elbow on it!
"RAAAAAAAAAUGHGHGHGHGH!" It yelled.
"Let's finish this, daddy-o!" I declared with a reverence of One Thousand Champions.
I picked it back up and Irish Whipped it into the cavern walls ... they were so slimey and gunky that it bounced right off of the wall and its energy propelled it back towards me. I knew rightly then it was once again time for my patented Devastation Power Slam ... the Monster's momentum of it running towards me would output so much more energy into the devastationess of my finishing move. It was now or never!
"Blaaaaaaurghghg???"
"DEVASTATION!"
"POWER!"
"SLAM !!"
I uncorked the devastation of my patented slam and the monster was no more. I poured more salt and chips on it until it dissolved into the salts of the earth like a slug.
(My theme music Get on Up by James Brown started slowly playing as I exited the lair)
The minor monsters and lesser fishes scattered and escaped into the darkness of night. The lair had no trace of swamp monster left in it as I exited back into the better-smelling reality of the outside world.
I walked back to my beloved swamp as my theme music got louder and louder which each subsequent step.
..... It was finally over.
7
"Hey Reggie! Why ya lookin' so happy for ya slimey son of a sailor!?" Mama said to me as I approached the Swamp.
"Jake's Plan worked Mama .... those swampity monstas are GONE!" I victoriously told her.
"That's great .... Soul Brotha," someone said to me from behind. I thought it was Huang Si but when I turned around .... it wasn't H-Si. It was Jake!!
"Jake! You're Alright!?" I asked of him.
"Yeah, man, I'm fine. Gertie patched me up good, daddy-o, I'm as fine as feathers and as right as rain," He assured me.
"That's right, I surely surely done-did," Gertie said.
"Hey Reg, the amps are set up and the drum kit is loaded on dock #3, Soul Brotha, how about we celebrate with a rock-n-roll concert for the whole Swamp?" Huang Si asked of me.
"Sounds like a Plan, baby." I answered.
We played our rock and roll that night into the night's sky. It was pretty buck. It was a good set-list, we did Everybody Walk the Dinosaur about mid-set and ended with Get on Up.
Me. Jake. Huang Si. Gertie n' dear ol' Mama. Because of us The Swamp will be safe for generations to come and they will build statues to us in our honor.
THE END
Monday, January 22, 2018
Friday, January 12, 2018
Short Story 2: The Tales of the Swamp Ensues ....
Experimental Short Story Training Continues this morning with ....
Short Story Number Two
Huang Si and the Fishing Contest
We left our heroes last SS (short story) after they ever-victoriously routed their beautiful swamp home of an infestation of crazy swampy monsters. Today, looks like ol' Huang Si has mixed and/or reserved feelings about this year's annual swamp fishin' contest .... I wonder how it'll play out.
1
I left the feudal confines of rural China many a year ago, I was only 3 years old when I came over this way yonder.
My ol' pappy? He was a smart man, a sailor, used to haul wrecks to shore to the salvage yards. I guess you'd call 'im a junkman ... a junkman who specialized in boat junks. That ol' sailor taught me all there is to know about salvage and also taught me the little tiny bit of Chinese Karate that I know today. God bless his soul.
My mammy? She was a nice lady ... taught me the ins and outs of the ol' game. Best of all she taught me how to fish. She learned me quick how to rope a big 'un and wrangle it in. Then we cook 'em and eat 'em. I loved my ol' mammy. Trouble is just like paw .... she died young. God rest her soul.
Nobody said being an orphan was easy ... but I struggled more than most with being orphaned at my young age due to how much I loved and missed my pappy n' my mammy.
I yearned for a family to once again call my own for a full decade, spending my teenage years journeying the world over .... but it was here where I found that family.
In the Swamp.
2
Old Weston, God rest his soul, let me stay at the swamp on the condition that I use those cherished skills my parents passed to me. No not karate, I'm talking about boat salvaging and fishin' is what I'm talking 'bout.
Salvagin' wrecks n' fishin' up smelts n' kippers are my talents ... and I cherish those talents more than anything on this wide earth. Why? Because that's all I have to remember my ancestors by, my beloved parents, who died way before their time ... they taught me those cherished talents and I will always hold them near and dear to my heart.
So, When Ol' Weston asked me to employ those talents for use ... in the fashion to be useful and to help others ... I was more than honored to do so. I've been pullin' up broken up junky boats and catchin' up fish in this swamp come it many a year now ... and I love every minute of it.
Until, of course, the day came where I had to permanently retire one of my cherished talents at the behest of my ancestor's code of honor.
3
My Ol' Mammy, Huang Erniang, taught me the ins and outs of ropin' big uns. Big fish, the biggest.
One day she told me,
"Son .... you must never use the 116 fishing techniques for evil. The Huang ancestors who wrote these 116 fishing techniques wrote them with the blood, sweat, and tears of one thousand fisherman. The fish you catch are ONLY to be used to feed the people of your village ... never to be sold to fish mongers in exchange for money!"
I was too young to understand the strength of these words at the time. I just thought they were some dopey fishin' tricks that she pretended were the passed-down for generations wisdom of one thousand elders.
It was a rainy and damp day down at the ol' swamp, the day I gave up fishing forever. I disobeyed the oath I made to my late mother that day.
"Where ya goin' Huang Si?" asked Gertrude to me.
"I'm just goin' down to the ol' fishin' spot, my secret one, Gertie, 'aint no big deal or nuthing," I responded.
"Oh alright, if ya catch something bring it on here ... I'll fry it up something fierce!" said Gertrude.
I remember that day well, I took our best motor boat, went down to my secret fishin' spot, picked up my rod, n' started to fish. And then it happened ...
.... I hooked the biggest fish of my life! A wide-mouthed bass half the size of a motor boat!
I was in my secret fishin' hole out in the farthest reaches of the swamp ... no one knew about it but me. If no one knew ... then no one knew I caught that fish neither ... ya reckon? That's what I reckoned, daddy-o, that's what I reckoned.
I took that fish, not back to Gertie to fry up in a butter pan, but I shot the motor boat up to north point dock and hitched it. I carried the big bass across my shoulders all the way up Northern Road all the way to Viktor City ... and you know what I did?
I sold it for many a money that day. I sold it hot and quick for a dandy batch of money, daddy-o, that's what I done did. I got a whole buncha money and wasted it all on chocolate and gamblin' houses like a fool.
... and by doin' that, I defied the sacred oath I made to my Mother, and angered the one thousand elders who wrote the divinest of fishin' techniques with their own blood, sweat, and tears.
4
"YA HAVEN'T CAUGHT NO DERNED FISH IN A SWAGGLIN' MONTH N' A HALF YA GRIMEY SONNAFA SAILOR!" yelled Moms Yeager at me.
"Don't be so hard on the brotha, my motha. Huang Si, over the years, has caught one hundred times more fish n' sea critters than any of us here at the swamp ... and you know that," Reggie said to her, coming to my defense.
"Reggie's right..." said Jake while takin' a long swig of swamp watta.
"Y'all defendin' him cause you three is like brothers the whole set of ya!" Angrily retorted Moms Yeager.
It made me happy that my soul brothers defended me like that ... but Moms Yeager was right as rain on this account. I was cursed something fierce. My fishin' skills dried up like a raisin in the hot sun, I tell ya.
That night, I dreamt pretty fierce, real sweaty-like dreams. I saw my Mammy come to me in that dream and she told me....
"Son, you have betrayed the wisdom of our ancestors and used your fishing talents for profit. The one thousand elders who's 116 techniques have been passed down in the Huang family for generations shall no longer be of service to you ... I'm sorry my son .... but you are no longer permitted to use them. You. Will. Never. Catch. A. Fish. Ever. Again..."
Then my mammy's ghost evaporated into the thinnest of air and I woke up in a feverish sweat, I did.
Knowing that what she said was the truth in that dream ... I knew I'd never catch a darned fish ever again and hung up my fishin' rod for good.
Now all I had left is my salvagin' junky boat talents my pappy taught me. I'll just use those to make myself useful here at the ol' Swamp...
5
August 6th through to the 10th, that was always the hardest week for me at the Swamp and it still is today. That's the days the Fishin' Contest is held here ... a contest who's championship I won on five occasions ... but I haven't taken part in that ol' contest now in a good coupla years.
What good is taking part in a fishing contest if you're cursed by one thousand ancient Chinese ancestors to never ever again for the rest of your entire life catch a darned fish? No good, that's how much good. No good at all!
I bet ol' Jake, or Gertie, or one of those slimy suckers from the Dunston family might win this year. I'm not even gonna watch. It hurts me to watch them all catchin' big uns and I gotta sit and watch as I am buried under a Chinese Curse.
Woe is me to to say the least, daddy-o.
Just then, I could see in the distance, Reggie strugglin' with a big ol' sucker of a fish! Bein' so strong he hauled that sucker up rightly quick.
"DAMN! Look at the size of this here fish in this here boat!" Yelled Reggie.
Everyone was in awe, that hunk of fish would guarantee him the win in the contest, no doubt. It was a surely large hunk of fish meat is what it was.
...but then...
The fish STOOD UP. It had legs!? No way!
"That 'aint no fish you knuckle head! THAT'S ANOTHER ONE OF DEM GREASY SON OF A SWAMP MONSTAS! yelled Moms Yeager.
The monster was scary as sin, man. It had big fish ears to hear ya with, big fisheyed eyes to see ya with, and big fish teeth to bite your ass off, man!
The fish jumped up and down on Reggie's fine motor boat and flung Reg off it like a spring board. He landed in the water, Jake jumped out of his nearby boat and swam to him, and they both swam back to the swamp's shore.
Everyone was too tired from bein' baked in the hot swamp sun n' fishin' all day to have enough stamina to fight that dirty ol' monster fish.
...And me? I was feeling cursed and useless ... like a pile of accursed beach rocks.
6
Sittin' there watching this swamp monster make fools of my soul brothers. It was hard. I knew I had to do something.
Rightly then I had a vision, it was my pappy. It was my dear pappy's ghost and he told me right to my mind's eye...
"Huang Si, it is I, your father...."
"Pappy, is it really you ..." I answered his voice, with my eyes closed, as if in a dream.
"Yes, my son, and I must tell you ... I know I forbid you from using the 19 Death Moves of the Huang Fa karate school .... but ... Huang Si .... your soul brothers, Mr. Jake, and Mr. Reggie, are in grave and dire straits, my son."
"Father, what are you trying to tell me, father?" I asked my father's ghost.
"Your soul brothers will perish if you do not use the 19 Death Moves of the Huang Fa school. My son, I no longer forbid you from using them. You will not be cursed by a hundred thousand ancestors if you use the Death Moves! Please! Hurry! USE! THE! 19! DEATH! MOVES! OF! THE! HUANG! FA!"
"Okay ... father ... I will."
7
"That monsta gonna run a havoc in this swamp, I'm tellin' ya!" yelled Gertie in a feverish pitch.
"We are all too sun burned n' sun swaggled n' sun stroked from the hot sun and all the fishing all day to fight this slimey sucka!" Yelled Reggie.
"Damn right..." said Jake.
"Hold it, everyone, I've just been sittin' under this here swamp tree all day just sokin' up the shade. I haven't fished a lick all day long, daddy-o. My stamina is 110% right now ... and filled with the words of wisdom of my late father ... I am rip, rap, rock-steady, and raring to fight that Monster Fish!" I exclaimed with the potent vigor of a champion.
I leaped into the air, high up into the sky, like a flyin' fish ... and landed right on the boat where that grimey slimey son of a sailor monster fish was doing his intimidating monster thang.
Fightin' on a rocky boat sounds hard, but not for a man who trained under Huang Fa. I used to fend off my father's practice blows whilst standin' on large bamboo stocks at our family's bamboo thicket. 'Aint nothing short of routine for me to be fightin' on a rocky-docky boat like this.
"GET 'IM H-SI !! DO IT FOR THE SWAMP, SOUL BROTHA!" Implored Reggie to me.
I entered a counter-attack position and taunted the Fish Monster to open up the first round of engagement. He declined at first, but even though he can't speak my language, I'm sure the tone of when I referred to him/her/it as a "Gunky Hunka Hunka Slimey Trash" musta gotten under its skin and then it came at me with the force of a dozen swamp mules!
I parried and countered, and used the 7th of the 19 Death Moves ... The Divinity Crane Elbow Counter technique, as the errand blow of the monster sailed to my left ... I turned and pounced with #7 on the right ... my elbow struck but didn't seem to end the monster's resolve.
"Look out Huang Siiiiiii! He's comin' back with the ol' 1-2 combo!" Warned Jake from afar.
I pivoted off my good foot and balanced my shiftin' weight on the rocky boat with my off foot. I was off my good foot! Good GOD!
Just then, in my wobbly n' bobbly state of footing, I remembered the 11th of the 19 Death Moves of the Huang Fa. The Wobbly Drunkard's Fist of Tong Jia!
The 11th of the Death Moves uses wobblyness and bobblyness to the user's advantage. The input of my wobble would be directed and outputted to my FIST.*
The Monster Fish thought he had me on my bad foot and went in full throttle to punch me offa da boat. But the joke was on that dumb fish ... for how could it have foreseen that under my employ of limited karate moves was one in which quadrupled my potency while being off balance.
Sometimes it is just the luck of the draw, daddy-o. Sometimes it's just the luck of the draw. I beat that fish and won the day with my Ever Victorious Wobbly Drunkard's Fist of Tong Jia ... but more importantly I won something else that day .... the re-respect of my ancestors.
That night, I was visited thrice more in my dreams by varying ancestors. My pappy came by my mind's eye to congratulate me on defeating that slimey son of a sailor swamp monster. My mammy came by to tell me how proud she was of me ... and then my mammy said a thousand people would like to speak with you, son.
I asked her .... "Who?"
Then the voices of One Thousand Ancestors filled my mind's eye, speaking all at once but somehow it felt like they spoke as One. They told me that, today ... I used enough blood n' sweat n' tears to be forgiven for my misdeeds of the past. They told me that I will once again be allowed the use of the 116 Divine Talents of the Ancient Mariners .... the greatest fishing skills known the world over.
Looks like I'll back at my favorite secret fishin' spot tomorrow ... hoistin' up smelts n' trouts inta my ol' motor boat again, daddy-o.
END.
And thus concludes the second installment of the Swamp Trilogy. The next one ... through the POV (point of view) of Reggie ... our heroes will finally uncover why there's swamp monsters in their swamp. Is it an Alien Clandestined Conspiracy? A Government Clandestined Conspiracy or something even worse and more sinister? Who even knows.
Foot Notes
*The Wobbly Drunkard's Fist is known as the 颤抖的酒精拳头 or the Arukoru Chudoku no Ken for Japanese speakers. Translations may vary.
Short Story Number Two
Huang Si and the Fishing Contest
We left our heroes last SS (short story) after they ever-victoriously routed their beautiful swamp home of an infestation of crazy swampy monsters. Today, looks like ol' Huang Si has mixed and/or reserved feelings about this year's annual swamp fishin' contest .... I wonder how it'll play out.
1
I left the feudal confines of rural China many a year ago, I was only 3 years old when I came over this way yonder.
My ol' pappy? He was a smart man, a sailor, used to haul wrecks to shore to the salvage yards. I guess you'd call 'im a junkman ... a junkman who specialized in boat junks. That ol' sailor taught me all there is to know about salvage and also taught me the little tiny bit of Chinese Karate that I know today. God bless his soul.
My mammy? She was a nice lady ... taught me the ins and outs of the ol' game. Best of all she taught me how to fish. She learned me quick how to rope a big 'un and wrangle it in. Then we cook 'em and eat 'em. I loved my ol' mammy. Trouble is just like paw .... she died young. God rest her soul.
Nobody said being an orphan was easy ... but I struggled more than most with being orphaned at my young age due to how much I loved and missed my pappy n' my mammy.
I yearned for a family to once again call my own for a full decade, spending my teenage years journeying the world over .... but it was here where I found that family.
In the Swamp.
2
Old Weston, God rest his soul, let me stay at the swamp on the condition that I use those cherished skills my parents passed to me. No not karate, I'm talking about boat salvaging and fishin' is what I'm talking 'bout.
Salvagin' wrecks n' fishin' up smelts n' kippers are my talents ... and I cherish those talents more than anything on this wide earth. Why? Because that's all I have to remember my ancestors by, my beloved parents, who died way before their time ... they taught me those cherished talents and I will always hold them near and dear to my heart.
So, When Ol' Weston asked me to employ those talents for use ... in the fashion to be useful and to help others ... I was more than honored to do so. I've been pullin' up broken up junky boats and catchin' up fish in this swamp come it many a year now ... and I love every minute of it.
Until, of course, the day came where I had to permanently retire one of my cherished talents at the behest of my ancestor's code of honor.
3
My Ol' Mammy, Huang Erniang, taught me the ins and outs of ropin' big uns. Big fish, the biggest.
One day she told me,
"Son .... you must never use the 116 fishing techniques for evil. The Huang ancestors who wrote these 116 fishing techniques wrote them with the blood, sweat, and tears of one thousand fisherman. The fish you catch are ONLY to be used to feed the people of your village ... never to be sold to fish mongers in exchange for money!"
I was too young to understand the strength of these words at the time. I just thought they were some dopey fishin' tricks that she pretended were the passed-down for generations wisdom of one thousand elders.
It was a rainy and damp day down at the ol' swamp, the day I gave up fishing forever. I disobeyed the oath I made to my late mother that day.
"Where ya goin' Huang Si?" asked Gertrude to me.
"I'm just goin' down to the ol' fishin' spot, my secret one, Gertie, 'aint no big deal or nuthing," I responded.
"Oh alright, if ya catch something bring it on here ... I'll fry it up something fierce!" said Gertrude.
I remember that day well, I took our best motor boat, went down to my secret fishin' spot, picked up my rod, n' started to fish. And then it happened ...
.... I hooked the biggest fish of my life! A wide-mouthed bass half the size of a motor boat!
I was in my secret fishin' hole out in the farthest reaches of the swamp ... no one knew about it but me. If no one knew ... then no one knew I caught that fish neither ... ya reckon? That's what I reckoned, daddy-o, that's what I reckoned.
I took that fish, not back to Gertie to fry up in a butter pan, but I shot the motor boat up to north point dock and hitched it. I carried the big bass across my shoulders all the way up Northern Road all the way to Viktor City ... and you know what I did?
I sold it for many a money that day. I sold it hot and quick for a dandy batch of money, daddy-o, that's what I done did. I got a whole buncha money and wasted it all on chocolate and gamblin' houses like a fool.
... and by doin' that, I defied the sacred oath I made to my Mother, and angered the one thousand elders who wrote the divinest of fishin' techniques with their own blood, sweat, and tears.
4
"YA HAVEN'T CAUGHT NO DERNED FISH IN A SWAGGLIN' MONTH N' A HALF YA GRIMEY SONNAFA SAILOR!" yelled Moms Yeager at me.
"Don't be so hard on the brotha, my motha. Huang Si, over the years, has caught one hundred times more fish n' sea critters than any of us here at the swamp ... and you know that," Reggie said to her, coming to my defense.
"Reggie's right..." said Jake while takin' a long swig of swamp watta.
"Y'all defendin' him cause you three is like brothers the whole set of ya!" Angrily retorted Moms Yeager.
It made me happy that my soul brothers defended me like that ... but Moms Yeager was right as rain on this account. I was cursed something fierce. My fishin' skills dried up like a raisin in the hot sun, I tell ya.
That night, I dreamt pretty fierce, real sweaty-like dreams. I saw my Mammy come to me in that dream and she told me....
"Son, you have betrayed the wisdom of our ancestors and used your fishing talents for profit. The one thousand elders who's 116 techniques have been passed down in the Huang family for generations shall no longer be of service to you ... I'm sorry my son .... but you are no longer permitted to use them. You. Will. Never. Catch. A. Fish. Ever. Again..."
Then my mammy's ghost evaporated into the thinnest of air and I woke up in a feverish sweat, I did.
Knowing that what she said was the truth in that dream ... I knew I'd never catch a darned fish ever again and hung up my fishin' rod for good.
Now all I had left is my salvagin' junky boat talents my pappy taught me. I'll just use those to make myself useful here at the ol' Swamp...
5
August 6th through to the 10th, that was always the hardest week for me at the Swamp and it still is today. That's the days the Fishin' Contest is held here ... a contest who's championship I won on five occasions ... but I haven't taken part in that ol' contest now in a good coupla years.
What good is taking part in a fishing contest if you're cursed by one thousand ancient Chinese ancestors to never ever again for the rest of your entire life catch a darned fish? No good, that's how much good. No good at all!
I bet ol' Jake, or Gertie, or one of those slimy suckers from the Dunston family might win this year. I'm not even gonna watch. It hurts me to watch them all catchin' big uns and I gotta sit and watch as I am buried under a Chinese Curse.
Woe is me to to say the least, daddy-o.
Just then, I could see in the distance, Reggie strugglin' with a big ol' sucker of a fish! Bein' so strong he hauled that sucker up rightly quick.
"DAMN! Look at the size of this here fish in this here boat!" Yelled Reggie.
Everyone was in awe, that hunk of fish would guarantee him the win in the contest, no doubt. It was a surely large hunk of fish meat is what it was.
...but then...
The fish STOOD UP. It had legs!? No way!
"That 'aint no fish you knuckle head! THAT'S ANOTHER ONE OF DEM GREASY SON OF A SWAMP MONSTAS! yelled Moms Yeager.
The monster was scary as sin, man. It had big fish ears to hear ya with, big fisheyed eyes to see ya with, and big fish teeth to bite your ass off, man!
The fish jumped up and down on Reggie's fine motor boat and flung Reg off it like a spring board. He landed in the water, Jake jumped out of his nearby boat and swam to him, and they both swam back to the swamp's shore.
Everyone was too tired from bein' baked in the hot swamp sun n' fishin' all day to have enough stamina to fight that dirty ol' monster fish.
...And me? I was feeling cursed and useless ... like a pile of accursed beach rocks.
6
Sittin' there watching this swamp monster make fools of my soul brothers. It was hard. I knew I had to do something.
Rightly then I had a vision, it was my pappy. It was my dear pappy's ghost and he told me right to my mind's eye...
"Huang Si, it is I, your father...."
"Pappy, is it really you ..." I answered his voice, with my eyes closed, as if in a dream.
"Yes, my son, and I must tell you ... I know I forbid you from using the 19 Death Moves of the Huang Fa karate school .... but ... Huang Si .... your soul brothers, Mr. Jake, and Mr. Reggie, are in grave and dire straits, my son."
"Father, what are you trying to tell me, father?" I asked my father's ghost.
"Your soul brothers will perish if you do not use the 19 Death Moves of the Huang Fa school. My son, I no longer forbid you from using them. You will not be cursed by a hundred thousand ancestors if you use the Death Moves! Please! Hurry! USE! THE! 19! DEATH! MOVES! OF! THE! HUANG! FA!"
"Okay ... father ... I will."
7
"That monsta gonna run a havoc in this swamp, I'm tellin' ya!" yelled Gertie in a feverish pitch.
"We are all too sun burned n' sun swaggled n' sun stroked from the hot sun and all the fishing all day to fight this slimey sucka!" Yelled Reggie.
"Damn right..." said Jake.
"Hold it, everyone, I've just been sittin' under this here swamp tree all day just sokin' up the shade. I haven't fished a lick all day long, daddy-o. My stamina is 110% right now ... and filled with the words of wisdom of my late father ... I am rip, rap, rock-steady, and raring to fight that Monster Fish!" I exclaimed with the potent vigor of a champion.
I leaped into the air, high up into the sky, like a flyin' fish ... and landed right on the boat where that grimey slimey son of a sailor monster fish was doing his intimidating monster thang.
Fightin' on a rocky boat sounds hard, but not for a man who trained under Huang Fa. I used to fend off my father's practice blows whilst standin' on large bamboo stocks at our family's bamboo thicket. 'Aint nothing short of routine for me to be fightin' on a rocky-docky boat like this.
"GET 'IM H-SI !! DO IT FOR THE SWAMP, SOUL BROTHA!" Implored Reggie to me.
I entered a counter-attack position and taunted the Fish Monster to open up the first round of engagement. He declined at first, but even though he can't speak my language, I'm sure the tone of when I referred to him/her/it as a "Gunky Hunka Hunka Slimey Trash" musta gotten under its skin and then it came at me with the force of a dozen swamp mules!
I parried and countered, and used the 7th of the 19 Death Moves ... The Divinity Crane Elbow Counter technique, as the errand blow of the monster sailed to my left ... I turned and pounced with #7 on the right ... my elbow struck but didn't seem to end the monster's resolve.
"Look out Huang Siiiiiii! He's comin' back with the ol' 1-2 combo!" Warned Jake from afar.
I pivoted off my good foot and balanced my shiftin' weight on the rocky boat with my off foot. I was off my good foot! Good GOD!
Just then, in my wobbly n' bobbly state of footing, I remembered the 11th of the 19 Death Moves of the Huang Fa. The Wobbly Drunkard's Fist of Tong Jia!
The 11th of the Death Moves uses wobblyness and bobblyness to the user's advantage. The input of my wobble would be directed and outputted to my FIST.*
The Monster Fish thought he had me on my bad foot and went in full throttle to punch me offa da boat. But the joke was on that dumb fish ... for how could it have foreseen that under my employ of limited karate moves was one in which quadrupled my potency while being off balance.
Sometimes it is just the luck of the draw, daddy-o. Sometimes it's just the luck of the draw. I beat that fish and won the day with my Ever Victorious Wobbly Drunkard's Fist of Tong Jia ... but more importantly I won something else that day .... the re-respect of my ancestors.
That night, I was visited thrice more in my dreams by varying ancestors. My pappy came by my mind's eye to congratulate me on defeating that slimey son of a sailor swamp monster. My mammy came by to tell me how proud she was of me ... and then my mammy said a thousand people would like to speak with you, son.
I asked her .... "Who?"
Then the voices of One Thousand Ancestors filled my mind's eye, speaking all at once but somehow it felt like they spoke as One. They told me that, today ... I used enough blood n' sweat n' tears to be forgiven for my misdeeds of the past. They told me that I will once again be allowed the use of the 116 Divine Talents of the Ancient Mariners .... the greatest fishing skills known the world over.
Looks like I'll back at my favorite secret fishin' spot tomorrow ... hoistin' up smelts n' trouts inta my ol' motor boat again, daddy-o.
END.
And thus concludes the second installment of the Swamp Trilogy. The next one ... through the POV (point of view) of Reggie ... our heroes will finally uncover why there's swamp monsters in their swamp. Is it an Alien Clandestined Conspiracy? A Government Clandestined Conspiracy or something even worse and more sinister? Who even knows.
Foot Notes
*The Wobbly Drunkard's Fist is known as the 颤抖的酒精拳头 or the Arukoru Chudoku no Ken for Japanese speakers. Translations may vary.
Sunday, December 31, 2017
Short Story: The Swamp
My book isn't going well. I gave up on it. I only know like essay-esque styles. Fiction is hard, it is. I tried to branch out and do movie writin' a few years back. I remember one was called The Rick Cerone Story and one was called The Diarrhea Tree. Re-reading them ... they're okay I guess. I'm still not trained at fiction writings though.
This One: Script 1
That One: Script 2
I'm gonna try and start smaller with fiction. Gonna write a couple shorties. This first one I did tonight is called .... "The Swamp."
What's it about? Well ... I guess you'll have to read on to find out.
The Swamp
-A short story by D.
"HIGH! YAAAAA! BICYCLE KICK!" screeched Huang Si at the top of his lungs as he lunged his front foot at the monster's head.
And thus concludes, "The Swamp."
This One: Script 1
That One: Script 2
I'm gonna try and start smaller with fiction. Gonna write a couple shorties. This first one I did tonight is called .... "The Swamp."
What's it about? Well ... I guess you'll have to read on to find out.
The Swamp
-A short story by D.
1
... and they saw me walk away. Walk away from it all. The fame. The glory. Everything.
Where did I go? Well that's hard to say. Some people tell me I can never escape the past and I'm still there in those swamps ... but I know better. I'm just an old sack of saw dust now a days ... but back then? I was really Someone.
It all started the day Weston died. He told me, "Jake .... you can't turn your back on those people ... they need ya."
Weston was a good man, he knew life inside and out ... and I knew he meant what he said that day. That day that he died. He meant every damned last word of it. And me? Did I care? No. Did I even pretend to care? No, I did not. I could have cared less about that dying old man's words of wisdom. To me they were worth less than dirt. Filthy rotten dirt.
I turned my back on those people because I had to, or so I thought at the time. I buried Weston and read all the proper rites ... he told me he was Christian once ... so I read him some Christian rites over his dusty old hole which would forever be his final destination on his road of life.
My road of life is only beginning .... it began that day I turned my back on it all. On Everything.
2
What did Weston mean ... that they "needed" me those people. What did he mean? They were all good folk and they didn't need an old hired ranch hand like me. How could they have? My boots 'aint even worth a red cent, not even a cent. My hands are all crippled and in pain. My back sure is not what it used to be. What did they need a dusty old ranchman like me in that swamp ... they didn't even have livestock in that swamp ... unless ya count fish and water fowl as livestock ... which I don't.
That Weston sure was a character. All those people in the swamp were ... now that I think about it. Characters the whole bunch of 'em. Characters.
There was Reggie. Me and him got along plenty fine. He wasn't a character as much as he was a compadre and amigo. Black fella. Trustworthy as humans come.
And Huang Si, Chinese fella. Didn't know too much karate ... but that's okay. He didn't need it much in the swamp anyhow... all anyone needed in that swamp was a couple of hardworking hands and ethic. An ethic that we all lived by. The Code.
Gertrude ran the bar. Nice lady. Spoke well.
Weston .... that old goat. Bad ticker. Breathed poorly ... and smelled. Smelled of tabaccy. But I liked 'em. Nice guy.
Weston. That swamp woulda fell apart without him. He knew that swamp like the back of his hand .... but only because he tatooed a map of the swamp to it, that is. He knew all the brooks and brannies of that filthy ol' swamp ... all the ways in ... and all the ways out. He knew where all the ducks hung out ... so he could shoot 'em and eat 'em whenever he wanted.
I knew that swamp like the back of my hand too now that I think about it ... and I didn't even have a map of it inked on my hand. I knew it from smarts, just plain old smarts.
Damnit Weston. Damnit. Damnit. Damnit. Were you right? Naw .... the swamp is better off without me. I'm the one who brought them there. They followed MY scent somehow those things. They followed my scent or maybe it was my heat. Maybe they followed my heat. Either way it don't matter ... all that matters ... is that the swamp is better off without me.
Reggie told me once ... "The only way I'll ever leave the swamp is if the swamp leaves me."
Well, I'm sorry Reggie, it's sad to say but that swamp is as good as gone. Our home. It's on its last legs, Reg. Its last legs.....
3
I turned back to look at it. The Swamp .... it's almost out of sight now ... all I can see is the restaurant boat. Yup, a restaurant on a boat ... 'aint that something. God damnit I miss the swamp. Ya just hook up your motor boat to the restaurant boat and ol' Moms Yeager would set you up with all the fixins and swamp watta you can sink your hands into.
I remember when me n' Reg first found the swamp ... we loved that boat restaurant. We loved it more than anything in this world. It was a restaurant ... on a boat. It was really something else.
I ate there every day. Eatin' fixins n' drinkin' swamp watta, daddy-o ... that was me. Now as I look at it, the last visible piece of the swamp hoverin' over the horizon, I'm startin' think maybe Weston was right ... maybe those people really did "need" me.
Can they fend them off? Reg is a big guy ... and Huang Si knows a bit of ol' karate ... I'm sure they'll be okay. Right?
Gertrude's got that stick thing ... with the blade thing on it. She could probably fend some of them off. She's a tough gal. Yeah ... they'll be alright.
Better keep walking ... walking away from that swamp .... away from my Home that I Love.
4
I played the best concert of my life in that swamp ... me on guitar, n' Reg on bass, n' Huang Si on drums. It was the best performance of my life.
H-Si had a way about him on those drums. His set up was pretty elaborate for a swamp band. He even mad a microphone on the kit so he could sing some back up vocals. He didn't do much singing ... he'd do some though ... here and there.
When we'd cover Walk the Dinosaur, usually midway into the set, H-Si would do the "Boom Boom - Chaka Laka - Boom Boom" part and then me n' Reg would sing the "Open da door - get on the floor - NOW EVERYBODY WALK THE DINOSAUR!" part ... and the crowd really enjoyed that number. They really enjoyed that number, the crowd.
Everyone would bring their motor boats up to the stage and tie 'em to the posts and watch the concert from their motor boats n' drink crystal clear sweet swamp water ... that's what they did.
Man ... I miss the swamp. They'll .... they'll be fine without me. Won't they?
I don't know.
5
"YOU BROUGHT THEM HERE, YOU GREASY SON OF A SAILOR!"
That's what Moms Yeager yelled at me that day. That day the monsters came to the swamp.
"I TOLD YOU TA NEVVA GO INTO THAT WATERY CAVE UP ON THE NORTH SIDE OF THE SWAMP! THERE'S MONSTERS IN THAT CAVE ... YOU DUMB IDIOT!"
She was right. There was monsters in that cave. Swamp Monsters. And they followed me back to the swamp with their noses or maybe they have like heat sensing tendrils of something ... maybe they were following my heat with their tendrils ... y'know? I don't know. I really don't.
Alls I know is ... is that I am the one that they followed to the swamp after I disobeyed Moms Yeager's aged wisdom and went a spelunkin' yonder in that damp ol' watery cave on the northern side of the swamp.
Moms wasn't the only person of the swamp to chew me out something fierce that morning. Gerdie, Huang Si ... and even Reg...
"It don't matter if it was your smell OR your HEAT. Those filthy swamp monsters are in the swamp now ... and it's YOUR FAULT man," Reggie told me.
Huang Si told me to take ol' Weston away from the swamp. Weston was too old for this shit. He was much too old to be fightin' swamp monsters.
"Take the best of the motor boats and bring old Weston up to the eastern road ... he can make his way into Humphrey town by that yonder way," is what Huang Si instructed me to do.
And I did.
Until old Weston had a heart attack from all the excitement and just conked out on the east road into Humphrey town.
Now I'm just standing here, on old Eastern Road .... looking at a dead Weston.
6
I wasn't stinky that day. I wasn't overly hot that day. God damn it. How did those filthy watery monsters follow me from that cave all the way back to the swamp? It makes no sense. It makes absolutely no sense.
Wait.
Those big swampy monster ears. Could it all have been sound? God damnit! I was humming the whole way home! They followed my NOISE back to the swamp. God damn those filthy swamp monsters from that damp swampy cave!
I can't turn my back on the swamp. Weston was right. Those people DO NEED ME. Gertrude, n' Huang Si, n' Moms, n' Reggie ... they all need me back there .... BACK THERE FIGHTING THOSE SWAMP MONSTERS!
If those horrible wet monsters like my humming so much to follow me back to the swamp like that ... then maybe I need to put on a show for those slimy sons of sailors. I'm going back.
... to the Swamp.
7
I ran back down Eastern road back to the dock and jumped into our best motor boat and revved it up full power and made a bee line back to the swamp. I hitched the motor boat to the dock where we keep the drum kit and the amps for our guitars.
I jumped out of the boat and plugged my electric guitar into the amp .... I picked up that guitar and started to PLAY! I played my heart out on that guitar and its powerful rock and roll waves blasted throughout the entire Swamp.
BA NEEEEEEEEER NA NEEEEEEEEEER! NEEEER NA NA NEEEEEEEER! BA NEEEEEEEEER NEEER NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER!
All my brethren and sistren who were fending off multitudes of swampy monsters lifted their heads and saw me blaring out hot licks on my guitar!
"It's Jake! He's back!" Cried Reggie.
"Damn it Jake! Is Weston okay?" asked Huang Si.
"Naw, he died of a heart attack. Ol' West died on the East before we got to Humphrey." I said.
"God damnit you stupid fool, it's not the time to be playing that infernal racket! Fight these swampy bastids with us!" exclaimed Moms Yeager at me.
"I am Moms. I AM FIGHTING! Look!" I responded in a frenzy while playing my electric guitar.
As I directed the denizens of the swamp to look at the swampy monsters ... they saw them covering their dirty ear holes and scurrying about like a buncha crazy critters!
"Look at them go!" yelled Huang Si.
"So it wasn't smell or heat ... it was NOISE" said Reggie whilst nodding.
I know with my broken up hands and my bad back that I couldn't be much help in this fight for the sanctity of our beautiful swamp ... but I still got my smarts, daddy-o. I still got my smarts.
"They're all running away ... except for that big one!" cried Gertrude in a fever heat.
"God damnit ... that's the biggest swamp monster I ever seen!" said Reggie.
"That's the way these swamp monsters swarm, there's always a hundred little bastids who just do the swarmin' n' monkey fightin', but then behind them is always the big one," explained Moms Yeager.
"I 'aint worried Mama, with my strength, Huang Si's basic knowledge of Chinese Karate, Gertrude's stick thang with the knife thang taped on it .... and Jake's tactical knowledge of the layout of the swamp ... there's no way in HELL that swamp monster can best us ... the PEOPLE OF THE SWAMP!" proclaimed Reggie with the will of a champion.
...and he was right. With my tactical knowledge of the layout of the swamp ... that I know like the back of my hand .... we could do this. We could win. Not only that but for the first time I understood what Weston was trying to say.
I really was needed at this Swamp. Thank you for convincing me of that, ol' West.
8
Now I'm back at the Swamp ... where I belong ... and now it's time me to ... SHINE.
I proclaimed with renewed vigor....
"Moms! Use your broom stick! Bang it against Huang Si's gong that he brought from China! Make as much noise as possible to drive the remaining swamp bastards outta the swamp and back to their filthy cave!"
"Reggie! Gertrude! Huang Si! Set fires near the north, east, and west waterways so that big boss monster can't see those escape routes!"
"I'm going to the South waterway in our best motor boat! Everyone meet me there in 10 minutes ... and Gerdie ... bring your stick thing that has the knife on it!"
"YEAH"!
(Everybody Walks the Dinosaur begins slowly playing .... slowly getting louder and louder whilst they execute their counter-plan on the swampy monsters)
As everyone assembled at the South Water Way I continued orchestrating my battle plans....
"Alright is everyone here at the South Way! Good. Gerdie ... run up to that big dope and wave your knife stick at 'im all exagerated-like!"
Gertrude readied her 4 foot long stick with the knife taped to it and began swinging it about the air ceremoniously ... which appeared to either impress or frighten the Large Swamp Monster.
"Reggie ... get behind Gerdie and get ready to fight that thing mano-y-mano my brotha! Huang Si .... you get behind Reggie and conceal yourself behind him as so the swamp monster cannot see you!"
Gerdie executed a feint with her makeshift spear and then dispersed and retreated ... right on cue dependable Reggie was right behind her with his dukes up ready to fight the large boss swamp monster one on one with his adequate boxing ability. All the while ... Huang Si was lying in ambush behind the gigantic Reggie .... and the swamp monster was none the wiser as he could not see H-Si.
"Now! Reg! Duck, evade, n' scurry ... then skedaddle! When the monster tries to move in on Reg while his guard is momentarily down ... Huang Si .... spring out and ambush it with a powerful Chinese Karate Kick!!!"
(Everybody Walk the Dinosaur starts getting much much louder)
"HIGH! YAAAAA! BICYCLE KICK!" screeched Huang Si at the top of his lungs as he lunged his front foot at the monster's head.
The blow connected and the large swamp monster was visibly damaged by the high flyin' aerial assault of Huang Si ... but the marauding monster gradually gathered back its composure and continued his advance on the swampateers.
"God Damnit! That sonnafa sailor is still standin'!?" Exclaimed Gertrude in an alarming clamor.
Is this the end for our stalwart swamp heroes? Only time will tell. It seems they have gone from the fryin' pan and straight into the fire, daddy-o ... like a coupla dirty brine shrimps.
9
The ravenous swamp monster had eyes like iron rods, it was slimy and dirty like a pound of kettle fish, and had teeth the size of nails. It was coming right for our intrepid bayou billies and it had only one thing on its slimy swampy mind .... Murder.
Good thing I had a little more to my brilliant strategy then I had let on.
"NOW MOMS YEAGER! NOW" I YELLED.
Right then, as quick as a flume, Moms Yeager rose from her secret motor boat hitched to an old stump near the big red buoy ... and threw a pot full of rotten milk n' rotten cheese all over that slimy son of a sailor monster!
As the monster stood there covered in rotten milk n' rotten cheese ... I felt with victory in this engagement 100% ensured ... I could finally divulge my fail proof stratagem with this slimy monster. I don't rightfully know if it can understand human speak .... but for ol' Weston's sake ... I feel as if this monster deserves to know why it lost.
"Well, Mr. Monster. Do you rightfully know why I lured you to this southern waterway? It happens that we here in this here swamp like to refer to this inlet as Rodent Trench. This is where all the beavers, n' badgers, n' rats like to gather and scavenge for food ... and you Mr. Monster ... standing there all covered in rotten milk n' rotten cheese ... probably sure as sam must look mighty appetizin' to a myriad of hungry scavenging buck tooth rodents ... you reckon, Mr. Monster?"
It just looked at me ... like I was speakin' in tongues .... but as sure as the rain is clean .... and as sure as the night is brisk ... those saw-toothed filthy rodents of Rodent Trench covered that monster from head to toe like a buncha kids scurrying to a christmas tree on christmas ... boy did those beavers n' badgers n' rats chew up that slimy swampy monster. It was a sight to behold.
It's times like this I wish ol' Weston were still alive to experience things and see things with his gimpy bloodshot eyes. If he were still alive and he looked on this gigantic monster ... all covered in filthy rodents ... and being chewed alive ... I wonder what he'd say.
Just then I felt a cold wind hit my back .... and a smooth whisper hit the back of my ear.
....."Ya see that, Jake. I told you they needed you."
And thus concludes, "The Swamp."
Friday, December 15, 2017
Calestous Juma
Calestous Juma died today. He was a very interesting and smart man.
I had quotes of his in an article I wrote a while back called "Food":
(this one: https://writingsonsubjects.blogspot.ca/2015/11/food.html)
He was a writer, educator, and prolific user of twitter. No stranger to math and science his world view was pretty based in reality. In his books and articles he covered African development issues.
Africa is a part of the world most people who don't live there know very little about. If you ask someone on the street about various African countries they'd probably tell you that it's very poor, dangerous, and bad there ... but that's not really true. The African continent has come a long way in the last hundred years and it has a lot of potential for growth to become a very healthy economy.
Juma's final article was a recommendation for a Pan-African trade agreement.
(This One: When it Comes to Trade, Africa really Should be a Country)
It's not an easy undertaking as borders of Africa after World War 2 were drawn up by mediators at random and internal conflict is rife in Africa.
It's fun to read the writings of people with big dreams ... It's really sad he died ... he was like one of those people who really seemed to have a positive outlook on the world and how to make it a better place.
Africa has a lot of potential to be a healthy and prosperous entity. Last article we talked about Age Pyramids in this blog a bit ... when it comes to Age Demographics, Africa is one of the only places on earth where Young People outnumber Old People by a huge margin. Take Nigeria for example ...
Nigeria already has a 405 billion GDP (27th out of 194 countries worldwide), which is pretty good, and it has a very young well educated force of young people coming into adulthood. It's potential for economic health is A+.
Remote regions in Africa is a big issue they have to deal with as they have hubs here and there like Nigeria and half a dozen others that are decent economies with great potential ... but lack of continental-wide roads and infrastructure has kept this progress out of remoter regions.
But with PIDA PAPA 2020, and PIDA 2040 ... it seems a lot of projects are on their way to try and remedy this problem.
PIDA, See: https://www.afdb.org/fileadmin/uploads/afdb/Documents/Project-and-Operations/PIDA%20note%20English%20for%20web%200208.pdf
Connecting these hubs with roads, rails, energy lines, pipe lines, and internet is already being planned to be implemented.
Seems like Africa by 2040 will be a pretty healthy economic region. Scientist, Statistician, and Innovator Calestous Juma was a catalyst and advocate for this and it is a shame he won't be here to see it come to fruition.
I had quotes of his in an article I wrote a while back called "Food":
(this one: https://writingsonsubjects.blogspot.ca/2015/11/food.html)
He was a writer, educator, and prolific user of twitter. No stranger to math and science his world view was pretty based in reality. In his books and articles he covered African development issues.Africa is a part of the world most people who don't live there know very little about. If you ask someone on the street about various African countries they'd probably tell you that it's very poor, dangerous, and bad there ... but that's not really true. The African continent has come a long way in the last hundred years and it has a lot of potential for growth to become a very healthy economy.
Juma's final article was a recommendation for a Pan-African trade agreement.
(This One: When it Comes to Trade, Africa really Should be a Country)
It's not an easy undertaking as borders of Africa after World War 2 were drawn up by mediators at random and internal conflict is rife in Africa.
It's fun to read the writings of people with big dreams ... It's really sad he died ... he was like one of those people who really seemed to have a positive outlook on the world and how to make it a better place.
Africa has a lot of potential to be a healthy and prosperous entity. Last article we talked about Age Pyramids in this blog a bit ... when it comes to Age Demographics, Africa is one of the only places on earth where Young People outnumber Old People by a huge margin. Take Nigeria for example ...
Nigeria already has a 405 billion GDP (27th out of 194 countries worldwide), which is pretty good, and it has a very young well educated force of young people coming into adulthood. It's potential for economic health is A+.
Remote regions in Africa is a big issue they have to deal with as they have hubs here and there like Nigeria and half a dozen others that are decent economies with great potential ... but lack of continental-wide roads and infrastructure has kept this progress out of remoter regions.
But with PIDA PAPA 2020, and PIDA 2040 ... it seems a lot of projects are on their way to try and remedy this problem.
PIDA, See: https://www.afdb.org/fileadmin/uploads/afdb/Documents/Project-and-Operations/PIDA%20note%20English%20for%20web%200208.pdf
Connecting these hubs with roads, rails, energy lines, pipe lines, and internet is already being planned to be implemented.
Seems like Africa by 2040 will be a pretty healthy economic region. Scientist, Statistician, and Innovator Calestous Juma was a catalyst and advocate for this and it is a shame he won't be here to see it come to fruition.
Tuesday, December 5, 2017
The Most Biggest Statistic of the Age: The Blippeninest of Blips
Last article was Baseball stuff, lots and lots of stats in those articles all the time. Me? I love numbers, baby.
A ways back, when I wrote a Rest in Peace article for the statistician Rosling, H.,
(this article: https://writingsonsubjects.blogspot.ca/2017/02/hans-rosling.html)
I was thinking that, for me, statistics started with O-Pee-Chee baseball cards and that really formed a love of stats for me. As you get older you start to apply this to other topics/fields in life. A statistical and rational based world view is a pretty good mental home base for a human being, I believe.
Once you have that base-setting world-view it starts to apply itself to other areas on its own I think.
I did an article I remember, around the Canadian election, that was a very stat-based look at the situation,
(this article: https://writingsonsubjects.blogspot.ca/2015/08/do-young-canadians-have-to-care-about.html)
There my point was that the 18-35 election demographic in Canada is so small that it is a niche market that no one needs to pander to in hopes of cajoling votes for their respective party.
What is interesting, and what today's topic is, is that this situation of Young People not Mattering in Elections is NOT the case for our neighbors to the south ... the good ol' United States of America. Young People in those demographics are a huge factor.
The following information is one of the most concrete displays of why the deeply polarizing political ideological wars are tearing up (and in my opinion RUINING) the internet....
This is the Age Demographics of the United States of America:
If you're new to stats and stuff, this chart is showing a pyramid of what age groups there are in the United States. The column on the left is Age and the thickness of the block is how many people there are of that age.
Can you see what I see? The 23 to 27 age group is the MOST LARGEST in the UNITED STATES! I never would have guessed that to be honest. Do you see the dark blue extending off the end of the blue block for 25 years olds? That how many more boys there are than girls .... there's A LOT of people in their mid twenties in the ol' United States and there's a decent amount more Males than Females in that Demographic.
Did you notice something else about this beautiful info graphic? The second biggest blip in that block stack is 55 years olds .... baby boomers .... and they are aging and dying. They are climbing up that skinny funnel to 100 years old and the ol' diner in the sky, it's a sad story. It's a sad story.
In political terms though .... these two situations translate to political engineers/strategists as... "Hey, we're losing our aging fan base to the tests of time ... looks like were' gonna need a new fan base!"
As of now those mid twenty year olds don't give a fuck about dirty dumb politics. They are out rocking, rollocking, rock-n-rolling, and rip-rap-scooby-doo-boppin, they don't have time for caring about politics. But, those 25 year olds are all gonna turn thirty, feel all old and shit, and start to all of sudden become pretty political and start votin' like nuts.
Out with the old in with the new, as the old saying goes, ol' friend.
The Battle for the YOUTH of AMERICA
So, there's basically a long weird battle being fought to win over that meaty demographic of Americans aged 20 to 29 right now. When you understand this, a lot of the current political climate, I mean a lot, starts making a fuck-ton of sense.
Where does this age group attain information? Where do they congregate their ideas on politics? Where do they spend half of their waking hours with their eyes fixated to?
The answer to all those questions, ol' friend, is ... The Internet.
All political parties want to bring politics to this demographic whether they want it or not. Political advertising on the Internet has become a billion dollar industry. Many parties and organizations are fighting for the minds of the Youth of America. If you ask me, the war over the minds of America's meatiest demographic on the internet ... is getting ugly, stupid, and annoying. Annoying as fuck.
All internet venues have been deeply politicized. All of them. Twitter, Facebook, Reddit, and everything else. It's politics city on the internet now a days. It never used to be like this. Politic sites on the internet used to be laughed at as the babblings of old people and of whackoes ... now you can barely even have a scrap-booking blog or cooking-recipes blog without having to take some sort of side in the ideological war being dredged out.
Meet the New Ideological War ... Same as the Old One
America surprisingly hasn't changed much in 30 years.
Those baby boomer fifty-fivers? If they grew up in a big multi-cultural city and have had friends of different ethnicity since they were small children ... there's a good chance they are "Liberal" or "Democrat" or "Left Leaning."
Those other baby boomer fifty fivers? The ones who grew up in a smaller rural area and lived a more secluded life from other ethnicities and different ideas? Chances are they are "Conservative" or "Republican" or "Right Leaning."
This is no different than the current 20-29 age group. The same divide exists there. Thirty years didn't close the gap very much and synthesize the two polarized entities. The 20-29 year old meaty demo still adheres to this basic split.
The current amazingly all-invasive on all-platforms ideological war over the minds of those 20-29 still use the same basic plot points as was used in the battle for the fifty-fivers. The talking points and plot lines are woven of the same old wool ... the same old cloth, old friend. The same old cloth.
To watch it play out on the Internet, as a passive foreign (I'm Canadian) observer, I think it's one of the ugliest things I've ever seen. It's vicious this ideological war over the fragile minds of America's Youth. It is.
It gets worse though.
As we've seen with those Facebook Russia news stories, foreign actors are trying their best to pull the horses of polarization in both directions. The interesting thing about those Russian fake accounts on Social Media reports ... is that Russia, and other foreign actors ... don't seem to care much about which side wins .... they just care about splitting the division as far as it can possibly go.
The Russian backed fake accounts were on both sides of the political spectrum ... and in all cases were on EXTREME ends. The accounts ranged from white nationalism, to arab terrorism, to black nationalism, and things of that extreme nature. One thing they all had in common was conspiracy theories and other garbage of that nature.
Now ask why? Why do foreign actors not care who wins this polarized war of the minds of America's Tommorow? Why? Because they know a weak America ... is a DIVIDED America. Plain and simple. They don't care who wins this silly little war ... they just want to tie ropes to horses, bulls, oxen, and try to pull each side apart as far as it can go ... like some sort of big dumb dirty Russian rectum stretcher.
What's The Take Away?
Alright, let's sum up, old friend...
1) America's meatiest Demo is aging and going to that ol' gas station in the ol' sky.
2) America's newest meatiest Demo is 20 to 29.
3) There's an extended and very annoying battle for the minds of America's 20 to 29 year olds being waged on all venues of the internet.
4) The battle is a familiar one that aims to cajole the minds of America's youth into a certain fan base.
5) Foreign parties are trying to deepen the depth of the wedge of the divide ... like some sort of gross Russian Rectum Stretcher.
Look, America, it's the Christmas / Holiday Season coming up ... the greatest time of the year. I know, America's 20-29 years olds, that there's a big internet war going on to stretch your mind out ... but you gotta keep your mind tight, old friend.
As for all of you narrative dealers, and scurvy poli-trick-or-treaters .... can you for ONE MONTH just please, please, please, PLEASE ... stop ruining the friggin' internet? Please.
America's Youth, listen, this is the beautifulest time of the year ... and I know there's horses and bulls and snakes and fire-ants and oxen pulling at the heart strings of your human mind everywhere you look .... but your mind can only stretch so far .... so take a break and put a little love in your heart, old friend.
Peace out n' Keep Your Mind Tight, America.
A ways back, when I wrote a Rest in Peace article for the statistician Rosling, H.,
(this article: https://writingsonsubjects.blogspot.ca/2017/02/hans-rosling.html)
I was thinking that, for me, statistics started with O-Pee-Chee baseball cards and that really formed a love of stats for me. As you get older you start to apply this to other topics/fields in life. A statistical and rational based world view is a pretty good mental home base for a human being, I believe.
Once you have that base-setting world-view it starts to apply itself to other areas on its own I think.
I did an article I remember, around the Canadian election, that was a very stat-based look at the situation,
(this article: https://writingsonsubjects.blogspot.ca/2015/08/do-young-canadians-have-to-care-about.html)
There my point was that the 18-35 election demographic in Canada is so small that it is a niche market that no one needs to pander to in hopes of cajoling votes for their respective party.
What is interesting, and what today's topic is, is that this situation of Young People not Mattering in Elections is NOT the case for our neighbors to the south ... the good ol' United States of America. Young People in those demographics are a huge factor.
The following information is one of the most concrete displays of why the deeply polarizing political ideological wars are tearing up (and in my opinion RUINING) the internet....
This is the Age Demographics of the United States of America:
If you're new to stats and stuff, this chart is showing a pyramid of what age groups there are in the United States. The column on the left is Age and the thickness of the block is how many people there are of that age.
Can you see what I see? The 23 to 27 age group is the MOST LARGEST in the UNITED STATES! I never would have guessed that to be honest. Do you see the dark blue extending off the end of the blue block for 25 years olds? That how many more boys there are than girls .... there's A LOT of people in their mid twenties in the ol' United States and there's a decent amount more Males than Females in that Demographic.
Did you notice something else about this beautiful info graphic? The second biggest blip in that block stack is 55 years olds .... baby boomers .... and they are aging and dying. They are climbing up that skinny funnel to 100 years old and the ol' diner in the sky, it's a sad story. It's a sad story.
In political terms though .... these two situations translate to political engineers/strategists as... "Hey, we're losing our aging fan base to the tests of time ... looks like were' gonna need a new fan base!"
As of now those mid twenty year olds don't give a fuck about dirty dumb politics. They are out rocking, rollocking, rock-n-rolling, and rip-rap-scooby-doo-boppin, they don't have time for caring about politics. But, those 25 year olds are all gonna turn thirty, feel all old and shit, and start to all of sudden become pretty political and start votin' like nuts.
Out with the old in with the new, as the old saying goes, ol' friend.
The Battle for the YOUTH of AMERICA
So, there's basically a long weird battle being fought to win over that meaty demographic of Americans aged 20 to 29 right now. When you understand this, a lot of the current political climate, I mean a lot, starts making a fuck-ton of sense.
Where does this age group attain information? Where do they congregate their ideas on politics? Where do they spend half of their waking hours with their eyes fixated to?
The answer to all those questions, ol' friend, is ... The Internet.
All political parties want to bring politics to this demographic whether they want it or not. Political advertising on the Internet has become a billion dollar industry. Many parties and organizations are fighting for the minds of the Youth of America. If you ask me, the war over the minds of America's meatiest demographic on the internet ... is getting ugly, stupid, and annoying. Annoying as fuck.
All internet venues have been deeply politicized. All of them. Twitter, Facebook, Reddit, and everything else. It's politics city on the internet now a days. It never used to be like this. Politic sites on the internet used to be laughed at as the babblings of old people and of whackoes ... now you can barely even have a scrap-booking blog or cooking-recipes blog without having to take some sort of side in the ideological war being dredged out.
Meet the New Ideological War ... Same as the Old One
America surprisingly hasn't changed much in 30 years.
Those baby boomer fifty-fivers? If they grew up in a big multi-cultural city and have had friends of different ethnicity since they were small children ... there's a good chance they are "Liberal" or "Democrat" or "Left Leaning."
Those other baby boomer fifty fivers? The ones who grew up in a smaller rural area and lived a more secluded life from other ethnicities and different ideas? Chances are they are "Conservative" or "Republican" or "Right Leaning."
This is no different than the current 20-29 age group. The same divide exists there. Thirty years didn't close the gap very much and synthesize the two polarized entities. The 20-29 year old meaty demo still adheres to this basic split.
The current amazingly all-invasive on all-platforms ideological war over the minds of those 20-29 still use the same basic plot points as was used in the battle for the fifty-fivers. The talking points and plot lines are woven of the same old wool ... the same old cloth, old friend. The same old cloth.
To watch it play out on the Internet, as a passive foreign (I'm Canadian) observer, I think it's one of the ugliest things I've ever seen. It's vicious this ideological war over the fragile minds of America's Youth. It is.
It gets worse though.
As we've seen with those Facebook Russia news stories, foreign actors are trying their best to pull the horses of polarization in both directions. The interesting thing about those Russian fake accounts on Social Media reports ... is that Russia, and other foreign actors ... don't seem to care much about which side wins .... they just care about splitting the division as far as it can possibly go.
The Russian backed fake accounts were on both sides of the political spectrum ... and in all cases were on EXTREME ends. The accounts ranged from white nationalism, to arab terrorism, to black nationalism, and things of that extreme nature. One thing they all had in common was conspiracy theories and other garbage of that nature.
Now ask why? Why do foreign actors not care who wins this polarized war of the minds of America's Tommorow? Why? Because they know a weak America ... is a DIVIDED America. Plain and simple. They don't care who wins this silly little war ... they just want to tie ropes to horses, bulls, oxen, and try to pull each side apart as far as it can go ... like some sort of big dumb dirty Russian rectum stretcher.
What's The Take Away?
Alright, let's sum up, old friend...
1) America's meatiest Demo is aging and going to that ol' gas station in the ol' sky.
2) America's newest meatiest Demo is 20 to 29.
3) There's an extended and very annoying battle for the minds of America's 20 to 29 year olds being waged on all venues of the internet.
4) The battle is a familiar one that aims to cajole the minds of America's youth into a certain fan base.
5) Foreign parties are trying to deepen the depth of the wedge of the divide ... like some sort of gross Russian Rectum Stretcher.
Look, America, it's the Christmas / Holiday Season coming up ... the greatest time of the year. I know, America's 20-29 years olds, that there's a big internet war going on to stretch your mind out ... but you gotta keep your mind tight, old friend.
As for all of you narrative dealers, and scurvy poli-trick-or-treaters .... can you for ONE MONTH just please, please, please, PLEASE ... stop ruining the friggin' internet? Please.
America's Youth, listen, this is the beautifulest time of the year ... and I know there's horses and bulls and snakes and fire-ants and oxen pulling at the heart strings of your human mind everywhere you look .... but your mind can only stretch so far .... so take a break and put a little love in your heart, old friend.
Peace out n' Keep Your Mind Tight, America.
Saturday, December 2, 2017
"Modern Baseball Era" Players for Hall of Fame - A Hypothetical Ballot
I followed the Hall of Fame voting in Baseball's Hall of Fame for many years and wrote various essays on different topics related to that over the last ... well ... since I started writing essays for fun online back in 2011.
I used to do every year at this time a "Tim Raines for the Hall of Fame" essay .... it was like a winter tradition.
Now Tim Raines is in the Hall of Fame, so, I guess that tradition can be laid to rest. Which is good because I ran out of material at one point and wrote about all kinds of Rocks once.
I had other ones too. I did a hypothetical hall of fame ballot one year, as if I had a vote, how I'd vote. Which was fun. Hall of Fame votin' time is a magical time, indeed.
Baseball's legend Al Oliver tweeted something the other day that helps explain why this season, Hall of Fame votin' season, is so magical ... he said:
If you grew up in one city you might have a very different view on who's a Hall of Famer than that of someone who grew up in another city. Everyone's seen different things, heard different things, felt different things, over the course of their lives ... and it's when all those voices meet that we begin to paint a very vivid picture of consensus.
Democracy may not be easy, democracy may not be fun all the time ... democracy might be a winding road of thorns n' brambles when you least want it to be .... but it's what we got ... and even if you're right, or even if you're wrong, what's important is that you participated and let your opinions, thoughts, and feelings be known.
Al Oliver is right. I may not be a big time guru of baseball, or the crowned prince of analytics, or the grand daddy of what's right .... but that doesn't matter ... if I feel like writing a Hypothetical Ballot of my thoughts on the Modern Baseball Era players under consideration for the hall of fame then that's what I'm gonna do ... and if you wanna read it ... then, hey, that's great too.
The "Modern Baseball" List
Baseball in 2016, divided up History in a manner I find interesting. They cut up baseball history into Four chunks. They are:
I think it's an interesting sectioning-off of chronology ... some of the cutoffs seem sort of arbitrary but that's okay. They have to keep it professional, obviously, being the official arbitrator of Baseball History, but I think a completely colloquial categorization would be something more like this:
"Dead Ball Era"
0 (beginning of baseball is debated so I'll call the beginning "Zero") to 1919.
This era is before they had real gloves even. Stats from this era are never counted as official because the records are sketchy and not defined. For example a "stolen base" could have been anything from advancing on an error to legging out an extra base on a ball hit into the gap. Stats mean very little from this era due to inconsistencies.
"Glory Days"
From 1920 to 1959
I like the Springsteenian denotation of "Golden Days" but I'm gonna Springsteen it up a notch to Glory Days. This is the Babe Ruth era you'd call it ... where baseball had its first mega like superstar of behemoth proportions. Babe Ruth was more than just the "face" of the game ... he basically was the game for a brief portion of time.
People have to look at some of the parks from this era when considering the stats. Like Ebbets Field for example was 297 feet out in right field corner. Like, some parks didn't even require 300 feet for a home run which explains a lot of the offensive stats from this era.
"The Big Time"
From 1960 to 1994.
The game became very popular after the Glory Days, everyone wanted a piece of the pie. The fiscal and money parts of the game expanded. Revenue, expenditures, wages, etc. all went up big time. The game was no longer a beautiful little pass time but a Super Popular Mega Attraction. Stadiums went from 15,000 seats to some as large as 50,000 seats.
In 1981 Wrigley bubble gum sold the Cubs to Tribune (WGN, etc.) and thus the first media conglomerate owned a baseball team. To under score this in history is a great miscalculation. Radio, TV, and advertising all became intertwined with the game. Baseball went from penauts and cracker jacks to Mass Media. One 15 second Coca Cola commercial could net a team more money than selling out a stadium.
"Steroid Era"
From 1995 to 2010
Coming out of the strike which hurt relations with the fans ... efforts were made to make baseball the Big Thing again and homeruns was where they wanted to go with it. Whether it was the balls being altered, the weird concoction of chemicals players were altering themselves with, or a combination of both ... people hit a lot of homers in this era.
The average fans love this era and see it as like the most exciting era of baseball ever but a lot of historians aren't fond of this era at all. They believe it turned baseball into a freak show and damaged the reputation of the game. Records didn't mean anything anymore they felt.
A lot of players from this era, some of them HUGE NAMES, are having trouble making the baseball Hall of Fame due to the negative stigma this era carries.
"Present Era"
From 2011 to Now.
Self explanatory. Offense is back up now after being down for about 5 years. People suggest the balls are being whacked up again or something. Either way baseball now is pretty A-Okay.
That's how'd I'd section up baseball history. But, that's not really here or nor there, really. Just a bonus opinion.
The Hall of Fame committee will vote on players who missed entry to the Hall from various eras in upcoming years. Early Baseball will be perused over in 2020, Golden Days will perused in 2020 and 2025, while Modern Baseball will get perused often in 2017, 2019, 2020, and 2025.
So guys like Dick Allen, Mike Marshall, Jim Kaat, Al Oliver and others will get a chance again in 2020 ... that's a ways off. The "Modern Era Ballot" is being debated early and often it looks like. The names on said list are the following:
Steve Garvey
Tommy John
Luis Tiant
Don Mattingly
Jack Morris
Dale Murphy
Dave Parker
Ted Simmons
Alan Trammell
There's two names on that list that seem more oriented for the "Golden Days" list ... I mean Tiant and Tommy John were bigger in the 60s and 70s than they were in the 80s ... hmmm .... this leads me to believe people I thought would be on the Glory Days ballot probably won't be (i.e. Kaat, Marshall, Allen, Oliver, etc.).
Oh well, that's how it was sliced so we gotta work in the confines of that. The following is my OPINION/THOUGHTS on the above names from my experience pool of baseball thinking ... I confess before hand that many of my opinions on these players are biased ... and I don't care ... because I'm writing this article for fun so .... you know.
YES? .... or No?
This rating of these great baseball players will be divided into Pros, Cons, and Miscellaneous. It is in no specific order.
Steve Garvey
Pros: Good Hitter, Work Horse who often played every game per season, Gold Gloves
Cons: Gold Gloves were First Baseman Gold Gloves, Wasn't a A+ Hitter.
Garvey is like Mattingly, when I get to Mattingly I'll probably save time by writing "See: Garvey, Above".
First Base is an easy position because every player in the infield is making an effort to make your life easy. The infielders are trained to get to ground balls fast and relay it to you in the most efficient and easy to execute means. After Designated Hitter, your first baseman, is usually your worst fielder. So a first base gold glove is more like the award for "Best Worst Fielder on the Diamond" which is not a great award ... it usually winds up in the hands of a first baseman in a large market like L.A. or New York ... and that's why Steve Garvey and Don Mattingly have a wall of them at their houses ... because they were the first basemen for the L.A. Dodgers and N.Y. Yankees respectively.
Therefore Garvey needs some pretty good offensive stats to be a Hall of Famer ... and his career .775 OPS isn't sky scraping or earth shattering.
If he was a gold glove thirdbaseman with a .775 OPS and all those meaty RBIs then fine ... but as it stands .... I'm gonna go with a big NO on Garvey.
Stance: No.
Tommy John
Pros: Great Pitcher, Longevity
Cons: Lost time to injuries, wasn't best pitcher of his era, No Cy Youngs.
Miscellaneous: Has surgery named after him!
Tommy John pitched his ass off, then his arm basically tore and broke, so he took ligaments from his knee and replaced his broken arm stuff with knee stuff ... and then pitched until he was 46 years old.
This is a folk lore style story, something you'd see in a movie ... but it's real life, that's true. His stats and story warrant him entry, I do indeed believe.
Stance: Yes.
Luis Tiant
Pros: Great Pitcher, Could Smoke Cigars whilst Showering
Cons: Stretch of 3 Bad Seasons, No Cy Youngs.
Miscellaneous: Was a Cuban Defector before that was common.
Tiant has a slew of great seasons mixed in with a slew of rough seasons on his stat card. He's not a shoe-in that's for sure. I'm 50/50 on him from his stats. He's got a back story which is interesting though.
Tiant left Cuba to pursue his dreams and has remained outspoken about the Castro regime to this very day. A lot of young people who wear those communist T-Shirts with Castro's face on it, or even the Prime Minister of Canada who's a big Castro fan should listen to people who defected that regime to understand how dangerous it was there.
Since my vote really has no bearing on the future, and since I'm 50/50 on it, I'm gonna just go with Yes for the sake of it.
Stance: Yes.
Donny "Baseball" Mattingly
Pros: Great Hitter, Lots of Ribbies, Gold Gloves
Cons: Short Career by HOF standards
Miscellaneous: Side Burns heat on Simpsons with Mr. Burns very memorable
See: Steve Garvey Above. (See told you). Goldies are all gimmick because he was a first baseman in a large city ... he has 9 of them ... probably has like a closet full of goldoes. He has less longevity than Garvey but was a much better hitter than Garvey ... so they even out at about the same overall caliber.
Stance: No.
Jack Morris
Pros: Good Pitcher, with seven wins in the post season.
Cons: ERA tended to balloon up to over 4 quite often.
He pitched in a lot of post seasons and was the World Series MVP with the Twins ... so his credentials are pretty good.
He's still got the mustache too ... which is commendable. It's getting to Honky Tonk Man territory though. I mean if your 80s gimmick is still your 2017 gimmick that's cool but I mean the cut off point I think is seeing the Honky Tonk Man wrestler with his Elvis hair (not a wig) in 2017 ... I think that is like a demarcation point in the sand when a 80s gimmick went on too long.
Morris's iconic 'stache isn't of Honky Tonk Man level over-done yet though as far as 80s gimmicks go. As for Hall of Fame, a close but regretful No, here. His ERA is 3.90 for his career which is just too close to 4 I find. The World Series MVP and cool mustache pack some punch but not enough to swing him into the solid Yes column.
Stance: No.
Dale Murphy
Pros: Power.
Cons: Missed any "Sure-Thang" Stats like 3000 hits or 400 homers.
Dale missed that 400 homer plateau by 2 homers ... which is one of those big numbers the writers like to see. If he hit two more homers he'd probably have gotten a lot more consideration. Similarly with Fred McGriff who missed a plateau by inches I think the adherence to these "sure thing" numbers shouldn't be written in stone.
What is the discernible difference of a person who hit 398 homers and a guy who hit 400 homers? I don't know. Or with McGriff who sat at 493 homers instead of a hitting a nice round number like 500?
Murphy had "5-tool" seasons as well of running well, defending well, judging the strike zone well, hitting well, and power alleying well.
The year he got 90 walks and 30 steals he scored over 130 times ... in addition to hitting 36 homers. So he wasn't a one dimensional power hitter in any sense ... he had some 5 tool years.
Murph has some big name backers too ... recently the popular cartoon site Homestar Runner gave homage to Murph's iconic "Power Alley" poster whereas Mr. Murphy stood in a damp yet cool alley way with a baseball bat light saber ... which anyone with a brain can admit looks cool.
I'm a pretty solid Yes on Dale Murphy.
Stance: Yes.
Dave Parker
Pros: Stacked Statistical Resume
Cons: No "Milestone Numbers" again .... no 3000 hits or 400 homers.
Like Murphy and McGriff, the old voters never voted for people who missed the milestone numbers. The voters who skipped out on voting for Parker were those types who really looked at the milestone numbers and not the complete package.
The old school voters wanted Iron Men who didn't miss games.
I think the "Iron Man" gimmick is pretty over rated. I mean watching a old Pete Rose or an old Cal Ripken rack up stats while some young go-getter kids were sitting on the bench waiting for their chance to crack the lineup doesn't really impress me as much as it does others. Cal Ripken at 40 years old with a .600 OPS just in the lineup to pad his stats really doesn't impress me at all.
Parker, statistically, is similar to Dick Allen and others who aren't in. He's got monster stats but no real milestone/longevity stats. I mean some of these Dave Parker seasons are Monster Seasons, man. Let's see, 1975, 1977, 1978, 1985 ... he had some Monster Years.
Ripken, as I was using as an "Iron Man" example ... had a career .447 slugging percentage. Dave Parker had a career .471 career slugging percentage. I mean are we supposed to think because a "Iron Man" had more at-bats and larger sample sizes that he was better? I don't think so ... 24 career SLG points is a wide margin. No one can say with a straight face that Cal Ripken was a better hitter than Dave Parker.
Stance: Yes.
Ted Simmons
Pros: Great offensive numbers posted at a rarely offensive position
Cons: Very Little Publicity Ever About this Person
This is a name I am least familiar with on this list, he's not a player you ever hear talked about or written about in baseball circles. Little if ever.
Stats wise, he's like a secret superstar ... only behind Johnny Bench and Gary Carter as the best catcher of his era. Is third best catcher of the era warrant him entry? Possibly, yes.
I don't think he was as good defensively as Bench and Carter ... but he needs some sort of recognition of some sort, no? Being the third best catcher of that era must mean something, Catching is friggin' hard, man.
I've read so many baseball biographies over the years and never seen this name come up. It's rare you hear about him ever. I don't know he's like ... I dunno ... this man needs a publicist I think. He needs a promo guy or something.
If hypothetically I was voting on this and there was a vote maximum ... Simmons would be the first to switch from the Yes to the No column. I'm gonna file him down as a Yes, but like weird Yes ... like a Who Is This Forgotten Man sort of a weird Yes.
Stance: a Weird Yes.
Alan Trammell
Pros: Gold Glover Shortstop with above average hitting prowess.
Cons: Sub par offense numbers, no milestone numbers.
I wrote about his case already in 2014 I think, so here's that one (with Mike Marshall and Dick Allen):
https://writingsonsubjects.blogspot.ca/2014/01/the-greatest-of-people-who-are-not.html
I was a Yes back then, so I guess I'm still a Yes, now. So, yeah.
Out of this current pool he's a soft Yes ... but I'm on record as being a Trammell Yesser so I can't change that plea in this article out-of-the-blue and all willy-nilly, y'know?
Stance: Yes.
Post-Writing Assessment
Okay dokay. What were the binary entries here ...
Solid YES: Dale Murphy and Dave Parker
Soft YES: Tommy John, Luis Tiant, Ted Simmons, Alan Trammell
NO: Steve Garvey, Don Mattingly, and Jack Morris
I think Dale Murphy and Dave Parker are guys who should have got in 100% ... four of them are guys who aren't sure things but could go either way ... and three of them, I think, don't have solid enough credentials.
 |
| Tim Raines - The Legend |
Now Tim Raines is in the Hall of Fame, so, I guess that tradition can be laid to rest. Which is good because I ran out of material at one point and wrote about all kinds of Rocks once.
I had other ones too. I did a hypothetical hall of fame ballot one year, as if I had a vote, how I'd vote. Which was fun. Hall of Fame votin' time is a magical time, indeed.
Baseball's legend Al Oliver tweeted something the other day that helps explain why this season, Hall of Fame votin' season, is so magical ... he said:
"...THIS IS AMERICA.RIGHT-WRONG OR INDIFFERENT. EVERYONE HAS THEIR THOUGHTS."Baseball History is pretty rich if you ask me ... and that is the reason why Hall of Fame votin' Time is so wondrous and full of glee. Right, Wrong, or, Indifferent, everyone has the right to state their opinions. You don't need a Baseball Writers Association of America seat on some committee or some position of authority to have a voice. All baseball fans have their thoughts, their memories, their opinions ... and that's great.
- AL OLIVER (BASEBALL ICON)
(Source: https://twitter.com/Alscoop16/status/934593747412836352)
If you grew up in one city you might have a very different view on who's a Hall of Famer than that of someone who grew up in another city. Everyone's seen different things, heard different things, felt different things, over the course of their lives ... and it's when all those voices meet that we begin to paint a very vivid picture of consensus.
Democracy may not be easy, democracy may not be fun all the time ... democracy might be a winding road of thorns n' brambles when you least want it to be .... but it's what we got ... and even if you're right, or even if you're wrong, what's important is that you participated and let your opinions, thoughts, and feelings be known.
Al Oliver is right. I may not be a big time guru of baseball, or the crowned prince of analytics, or the grand daddy of what's right .... but that doesn't matter ... if I feel like writing a Hypothetical Ballot of my thoughts on the Modern Baseball Era players under consideration for the hall of fame then that's what I'm gonna do ... and if you wanna read it ... then, hey, that's great too.
The "Modern Baseball" List
Baseball in 2016, divided up History in a manner I find interesting. They cut up baseball history into Four chunks. They are:
"Early Baseball" (colloquially oft referred to as the "Dead Ball" era)
Ranges from: 1871 to 1949
"Golden Days" (I like this term it's very Bruce Srpingtseeny)
Ranges from: 1950 to 1969
"Modern Baseball" (I'm guessing the period following was the Post-Modern period)
Ranges from: 1970 to 1987
"Today's Game" (The Game played Today)
Ranges from: 1988 to a time called Right Now
I think it's an interesting sectioning-off of chronology ... some of the cutoffs seem sort of arbitrary but that's okay. They have to keep it professional, obviously, being the official arbitrator of Baseball History, but I think a completely colloquial categorization would be something more like this:
"Dead Ball Era"
0 (beginning of baseball is debated so I'll call the beginning "Zero") to 1919.
This era is before they had real gloves even. Stats from this era are never counted as official because the records are sketchy and not defined. For example a "stolen base" could have been anything from advancing on an error to legging out an extra base on a ball hit into the gap. Stats mean very little from this era due to inconsistencies.
"Glory Days"
From 1920 to 1959
I like the Springsteenian denotation of "Golden Days" but I'm gonna Springsteen it up a notch to Glory Days. This is the Babe Ruth era you'd call it ... where baseball had its first mega like superstar of behemoth proportions. Babe Ruth was more than just the "face" of the game ... he basically was the game for a brief portion of time.
People have to look at some of the parks from this era when considering the stats. Like Ebbets Field for example was 297 feet out in right field corner. Like, some parks didn't even require 300 feet for a home run which explains a lot of the offensive stats from this era.
"The Big Time"
From 1960 to 1994.
The game became very popular after the Glory Days, everyone wanted a piece of the pie. The fiscal and money parts of the game expanded. Revenue, expenditures, wages, etc. all went up big time. The game was no longer a beautiful little pass time but a Super Popular Mega Attraction. Stadiums went from 15,000 seats to some as large as 50,000 seats.
In 1981 Wrigley bubble gum sold the Cubs to Tribune (WGN, etc.) and thus the first media conglomerate owned a baseball team. To under score this in history is a great miscalculation. Radio, TV, and advertising all became intertwined with the game. Baseball went from penauts and cracker jacks to Mass Media. One 15 second Coca Cola commercial could net a team more money than selling out a stadium.
"Steroid Era"
From 1995 to 2010
Coming out of the strike which hurt relations with the fans ... efforts were made to make baseball the Big Thing again and homeruns was where they wanted to go with it. Whether it was the balls being altered, the weird concoction of chemicals players were altering themselves with, or a combination of both ... people hit a lot of homers in this era.
The average fans love this era and see it as like the most exciting era of baseball ever but a lot of historians aren't fond of this era at all. They believe it turned baseball into a freak show and damaged the reputation of the game. Records didn't mean anything anymore they felt.
A lot of players from this era, some of them HUGE NAMES, are having trouble making the baseball Hall of Fame due to the negative stigma this era carries.
"Present Era"
From 2011 to Now.
Self explanatory. Offense is back up now after being down for about 5 years. People suggest the balls are being whacked up again or something. Either way baseball now is pretty A-Okay.
That's how'd I'd section up baseball history. But, that's not really here or nor there, really. Just a bonus opinion.
The Hall of Fame committee will vote on players who missed entry to the Hall from various eras in upcoming years. Early Baseball will be perused over in 2020, Golden Days will perused in 2020 and 2025, while Modern Baseball will get perused often in 2017, 2019, 2020, and 2025.
So guys like Dick Allen, Mike Marshall, Jim Kaat, Al Oliver and others will get a chance again in 2020 ... that's a ways off. The "Modern Era Ballot" is being debated early and often it looks like. The names on said list are the following:
Steve Garvey
Tommy John
Luis Tiant
Don Mattingly
Jack Morris
Dale Murphy
Dave Parker
Ted Simmons
Alan Trammell
There's two names on that list that seem more oriented for the "Golden Days" list ... I mean Tiant and Tommy John were bigger in the 60s and 70s than they were in the 80s ... hmmm .... this leads me to believe people I thought would be on the Glory Days ballot probably won't be (i.e. Kaat, Marshall, Allen, Oliver, etc.).
Oh well, that's how it was sliced so we gotta work in the confines of that. The following is my OPINION/THOUGHTS on the above names from my experience pool of baseball thinking ... I confess before hand that many of my opinions on these players are biased ... and I don't care ... because I'm writing this article for fun so .... you know.
YES? .... or No?
This rating of these great baseball players will be divided into Pros, Cons, and Miscellaneous. It is in no specific order.
Steve Garvey
Pros: Good Hitter, Work Horse who often played every game per season, Gold GlovesCons: Gold Gloves were First Baseman Gold Gloves, Wasn't a A+ Hitter.
Garvey is like Mattingly, when I get to Mattingly I'll probably save time by writing "See: Garvey, Above".
First Base is an easy position because every player in the infield is making an effort to make your life easy. The infielders are trained to get to ground balls fast and relay it to you in the most efficient and easy to execute means. After Designated Hitter, your first baseman, is usually your worst fielder. So a first base gold glove is more like the award for "Best Worst Fielder on the Diamond" which is not a great award ... it usually winds up in the hands of a first baseman in a large market like L.A. or New York ... and that's why Steve Garvey and Don Mattingly have a wall of them at their houses ... because they were the first basemen for the L.A. Dodgers and N.Y. Yankees respectively.
Therefore Garvey needs some pretty good offensive stats to be a Hall of Famer ... and his career .775 OPS isn't sky scraping or earth shattering.
If he was a gold glove thirdbaseman with a .775 OPS and all those meaty RBIs then fine ... but as it stands .... I'm gonna go with a big NO on Garvey.
Stance: No.
Tommy John
Pros: Great Pitcher, LongevityCons: Lost time to injuries, wasn't best pitcher of his era, No Cy Youngs.
Miscellaneous: Has surgery named after him!
Tommy John pitched his ass off, then his arm basically tore and broke, so he took ligaments from his knee and replaced his broken arm stuff with knee stuff ... and then pitched until he was 46 years old.
This is a folk lore style story, something you'd see in a movie ... but it's real life, that's true. His stats and story warrant him entry, I do indeed believe.
Stance: Yes.
Luis Tiant
Cons: Stretch of 3 Bad Seasons, No Cy Youngs.
Miscellaneous: Was a Cuban Defector before that was common.
Tiant has a slew of great seasons mixed in with a slew of rough seasons on his stat card. He's not a shoe-in that's for sure. I'm 50/50 on him from his stats. He's got a back story which is interesting though.
Tiant left Cuba to pursue his dreams and has remained outspoken about the Castro regime to this very day. A lot of young people who wear those communist T-Shirts with Castro's face on it, or even the Prime Minister of Canada who's a big Castro fan should listen to people who defected that regime to understand how dangerous it was there.
Since my vote really has no bearing on the future, and since I'm 50/50 on it, I'm gonna just go with Yes for the sake of it.
Stance: Yes.
Donny "Baseball" Mattingly
Cons: Short Career by HOF standards
Miscellaneous: Side Burns heat on Simpsons with Mr. Burns very memorable
See: Steve Garvey Above. (See told you). Goldies are all gimmick because he was a first baseman in a large city ... he has 9 of them ... probably has like a closet full of goldoes. He has less longevity than Garvey but was a much better hitter than Garvey ... so they even out at about the same overall caliber.
Stance: No.
Jack Morris
Pros: Good Pitcher, with seven wins in the post season.
Cons: ERA tended to balloon up to over 4 quite often.
He pitched in a lot of post seasons and was the World Series MVP with the Twins ... so his credentials are pretty good.
He's still got the mustache too ... which is commendable. It's getting to Honky Tonk Man territory though. I mean if your 80s gimmick is still your 2017 gimmick that's cool but I mean the cut off point I think is seeing the Honky Tonk Man wrestler with his Elvis hair (not a wig) in 2017 ... I think that is like a demarcation point in the sand when a 80s gimmick went on too long.
Morris's iconic 'stache isn't of Honky Tonk Man level over-done yet though as far as 80s gimmicks go. As for Hall of Fame, a close but regretful No, here. His ERA is 3.90 for his career which is just too close to 4 I find. The World Series MVP and cool mustache pack some punch but not enough to swing him into the solid Yes column.
Stance: No.
Dale Murphy
Pros: Power.
Cons: Missed any "Sure-Thang" Stats like 3000 hits or 400 homers.
Dale missed that 400 homer plateau by 2 homers ... which is one of those big numbers the writers like to see. If he hit two more homers he'd probably have gotten a lot more consideration. Similarly with Fred McGriff who missed a plateau by inches I think the adherence to these "sure thing" numbers shouldn't be written in stone.
What is the discernible difference of a person who hit 398 homers and a guy who hit 400 homers? I don't know. Or with McGriff who sat at 493 homers instead of a hitting a nice round number like 500?
Murphy had "5-tool" seasons as well of running well, defending well, judging the strike zone well, hitting well, and power alleying well.
 |
| Mouphy |
Murph has some big name backers too ... recently the popular cartoon site Homestar Runner gave homage to Murph's iconic "Power Alley" poster whereas Mr. Murphy stood in a damp yet cool alley way with a baseball bat light saber ... which anyone with a brain can admit looks cool.
I'm a pretty solid Yes on Dale Murphy.
Stance: Yes.
Dave Parker
Cons: No "Milestone Numbers" again .... no 3000 hits or 400 homers.
Like Murphy and McGriff, the old voters never voted for people who missed the milestone numbers. The voters who skipped out on voting for Parker were those types who really looked at the milestone numbers and not the complete package.
The old school voters wanted Iron Men who didn't miss games.
I think the "Iron Man" gimmick is pretty over rated. I mean watching a old Pete Rose or an old Cal Ripken rack up stats while some young go-getter kids were sitting on the bench waiting for their chance to crack the lineup doesn't really impress me as much as it does others. Cal Ripken at 40 years old with a .600 OPS just in the lineup to pad his stats really doesn't impress me at all.
Parker, statistically, is similar to Dick Allen and others who aren't in. He's got monster stats but no real milestone/longevity stats. I mean some of these Dave Parker seasons are Monster Seasons, man. Let's see, 1975, 1977, 1978, 1985 ... he had some Monster Years.
Ripken, as I was using as an "Iron Man" example ... had a career .447 slugging percentage. Dave Parker had a career .471 career slugging percentage. I mean are we supposed to think because a "Iron Man" had more at-bats and larger sample sizes that he was better? I don't think so ... 24 career SLG points is a wide margin. No one can say with a straight face that Cal Ripken was a better hitter than Dave Parker.
Stance: Yes.
Ted Simmons
Cons: Very Little Publicity Ever About this Person
This is a name I am least familiar with on this list, he's not a player you ever hear talked about or written about in baseball circles. Little if ever.
Stats wise, he's like a secret superstar ... only behind Johnny Bench and Gary Carter as the best catcher of his era. Is third best catcher of the era warrant him entry? Possibly, yes.
I don't think he was as good defensively as Bench and Carter ... but he needs some sort of recognition of some sort, no? Being the third best catcher of that era must mean something, Catching is friggin' hard, man.
I've read so many baseball biographies over the years and never seen this name come up. It's rare you hear about him ever. I don't know he's like ... I dunno ... this man needs a publicist I think. He needs a promo guy or something.
If hypothetically I was voting on this and there was a vote maximum ... Simmons would be the first to switch from the Yes to the No column. I'm gonna file him down as a Yes, but like weird Yes ... like a Who Is This Forgotten Man sort of a weird Yes.
Stance: a Weird Yes.
Alan Trammell
Cons: Sub par offense numbers, no milestone numbers.
I wrote about his case already in 2014 I think, so here's that one (with Mike Marshall and Dick Allen):
https://writingsonsubjects.blogspot.ca/2014/01/the-greatest-of-people-who-are-not.html
I was a Yes back then, so I guess I'm still a Yes, now. So, yeah.
Out of this current pool he's a soft Yes ... but I'm on record as being a Trammell Yesser so I can't change that plea in this article out-of-the-blue and all willy-nilly, y'know?
Stance: Yes.
Post-Writing Assessment
Okay dokay. What were the binary entries here ...
Solid YES: Dale Murphy and Dave Parker
Soft YES: Tommy John, Luis Tiant, Ted Simmons, Alan Trammell
NO: Steve Garvey, Don Mattingly, and Jack Morris
I think Dale Murphy and Dave Parker are guys who should have got in 100% ... four of them are guys who aren't sure things but could go either way ... and three of them, I think, don't have solid enough credentials.
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