This is Chris Perez: Some Thoughts, Delivered on a Very Non-Significant Occasion

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{artwork contributed by the wonderful/generous Craig Robinson}

When the Classical team started this website, we knew we didn't have the horses, or the Ritalin, or the horses on Ritalin, to compete for hard news scoops. For instance, several hundred newspapers and all known wire services and the weirdly sad infotainment channels that endlessly loop on the TVs in elevators and taxi cabs have beaten us on obvious (not to say trite) stories like "which team won the big game." If you only read the Classical, you would not know who won the Indy 500, or the Kentucky Derby, or as of right now, the Stanley Cup. You would know many other things but you would not know some basic facts about the most current condition of the sports universe.

Another strong example of this: When Chris Perez yakked on the mound immediately after closing out Sunday's Indians win over the Cardinals, the Sports Internet™ pretty much covered the story instantaneously in exactly as much detail as it merited (almost none), with the de rigeur  embed of the relevant game footage, issuance of GIFs, Reddit-ing. That was on Sunday—it's multiple days later (round up to eternity) now, and still not a word from us on the story. Here's a stupid metric: At the time of my writing, there are 3.15 million Google search hits for "chris perez barf," not one of them on this domain.

Well, not anymore. Here are 245 words: 

As it turns out, I was actually waiting for an excuse to talk about Chris Perez, although it's not actually clear that I even have here that excuse. So, Chris Perez. He's the Indians closer. He mimics John Cena on the mound, speaks radical truth about fan apathy, and might be a bearded prima donna. He picks fights with the Royals and describes himself as "Just a normal guy with an arm like a fu***** cannon." He has a shitty tattoo of the Led Zeppelin falling angel on his shoulder, which is also part of the background of his Twitter page. This is a photo of Chris Perez that he chose to represent himself. His middle name is Ralph and he's first in the AL in saves, and uh, 65th among AL pitchers in WAR. Chris Perez is increasing in seriousness.

Chris Perez is all of these things, in short a human being. As such he had a bathroom emergency on the mound. His teammates reacted roughly the same way you would if a co-worker yakked immediately after successfully prosecuting a quantum of whatever kind of work it is you guys do. Some of them blankly stared; Shelley Duncan, because he is actually a weird platooning angel, immediately tended to his fallen comrade. Indians TV play-by-play Matt Underwood didn't say anything about it, because what are you, thirteen years old? Matt Underwood's imaginary internal monologue makes a very good point.

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I really liked that the play by play guys didn't say a word about his barfing.

Really liked it.

In fact I would love to have sex with that.

I remember the first quantum I prosecuted.


he's first in the AL in saves, and uh, 65th among AL pitchers in WAR

It's an achievement, don't get me wrong, but we'll see if he can finish with 45 saves and an ERA over 5.

This is my favorite part of 2012 Chris Perez festival of self-esteem. Several other members of the Indians bullpen (Hagadone, Pestano) are better than him.

I wish this were much, much longer. But as it is, I regard it as a perfectly prosecuted quantum of work.

Also, I am beginning to worry about denim/nipple chafing on the .gif lady over there =>.