Forzelt posted:

The Dino Management would like to remind the SL Press that the Phantoms actually had a worse pythag record than the Dinos in the last SL season. As such, Dino Management is certain that SL history will eventually show that the Phantoms are the inferior team.

habeasdorkus posted:

Roster Changes:

Curt Simmons to 5th starter.

Adam Wainwright to Long Man.

Mark Buehrle to Rick Ankiel's Middle Relief spot.

Middle Relief Rick Ankiel to the minors.

Troy Glaus into the lineup replacing Han-Ram at third.

Hanley Ramirez to the bench.

Smasher Dynamo posted:

Roxxas wins! Somehow. Wait, exactly what did he do?

DivineCoffeeBinge posted:

Pick 'em: PICK WALDO NOW!
Champs retain.


Also, if you think Dawnstar was bad... hey Smasher, does Tyroc show up in the 5YL Legion? Because Tyroc is a great example of how a comicbook's attempt to add diversity was actually racist as gently caress.

(edit: Wikipedia tells me he does show up eventually, so I'll let Smasher explain when he gets there. Hoo boy.)

Smasher Dynamo posted:

Tyroc is in this story. As is his magical island.

TKBomber7285 posted:

And yet you chose to team with me. Next time I see you in chat I'm going to send you the lineup I made and after discussing subs the team will be set.

DivineCoffeeBinge posted:

The magical island where, in the future, all the black people live.

(I can't wait)

Frank Gaiman posted:

GENERICS SOLIDIFY HOLD ON FIRST PLACE, MOUNTIES HORRIFIED

Rochester - This was not the way the season was supposed to start.

The Royal Canadian Mounted Police, despite being a team of geriatrics, boasts probably the best roster of any Subpar League team. Their continued presence in the Subpar League, however, speaks to a structural flaw that prevents them from continued success. Nevertheless, many people picked them to win their division, presumably on the power of their various ancient stars.

Which makes today's game all the more frustrating for fans of the Canadian squad, since if they can't win in the season's first month, how will they compete when their players start retiring and/or dying by the late summer? Today, the Mounties couldn't get anything going against Tom Seaver, and generally wasted Walter Johnson's strong effort, losing 3-1 to a surprisingly good Generics team.

Things started off well enough for the Mounties, taking a 1-0 lead on a Lou Gehrig single. Johnson looked good through the first two innings, but ran into some trouble in the 3rd. Eddie Collins led off with a single, but when Arky Vaughan failed to make contact with the ball on a hit-and-run, Collins was dead. A slow grounder by Vaughan led to the second out, with still nobody on base.

Yet the Generics, despite their namesake, actually have some brand-name players. Joe Jackson doubled, and promptly scored on an Albert Pujols double to tie the game. On the very next pitch, Mel Ott homered over the left field fence, putting the Generics up 3-1. It happened in a flash: Jackson, Pujols, and Ott all swung at the first pitch.

Evidently, the Mounties had an episode of an Old Person Show to watch, as they didn't even bother to rally after that. Ken "Not as Bad as You Think" Oberkfell had a two-out single that put runners at the corners with two out, but Harmon Killebrew failed as a pinch hitter. Billy Wagner mowed down the Mounties in the 9th with three strikeouts.

DannoMack, understandably, was horrified. "What is wrong with you people? Don't you know you have a finite time on this earth to bank a divisional lead? Some of you won't be here in a few months!"

"Quiet, Dan," said Cy Old. "Matlack is on."

"What are you talking about, Cy? And don't tell me what t--"

"Sssssh!" Cy Older put his finger to his lips. "This is the episode where we learn how Matlack goes from lovable country lefthander to prominent lawyer."

"I think maybe you're confusing Jon Matlack with--"

"Fiddlesticks!" shouted Stan Musial. "This is the one where his minority assistant investigator gets replaced by a totally different guy but nobody acknowledges it and the show just continues as if all people of that minority look the same!"

At that point, kw0134 entered the room. "As owner of the Generics, I feel obliged to point out that a brand-name male lead, or even supporting actor, can put a crimp in your budget. I have a variety of replacable parts to serve various needs. For example, did you know that Omar Epps had a career in Rochester when he was called on to replace Wesley Snipes as Willie 'Mays' Hayes?"

DannoMack shook his head. "That doesn't even make any sense, though! Omar Epps is himself a name actor. I've watched House!"

Walter Johnson put his hands over DannoMack's mouth. "That's enough of that. I think it's time for you to go to bed." He slipped a butterscotch under DannoMack's tongue, causing the Canadian owner to make a horrible face and crawl off to bed. "Furthermore, we don't acknowledge House in this clubhouse. Our preferred medical drama is set in Middle Earth."

"Yes!" shouted kw0134. "Diagnosis: Mordor. Starring Rick Van den Hurk."

GAME NOTES

- Walter Johnson only managed one strikeout. Come on, you can do better than that! You're the fastest pitcher alive! No one can hit your speed ball!

- Did you know? Much like his beloved Maple Leafs, DannoMack will never, ever win anything. Tragic.

The Pan Man posted:

BOSTONIANS MEET PEOPLE WHO MAKE BEER FOR A LIVING, GET DRUNK AND LOSE

Bawstan - It wasn't really unexpected. The Aleworkers make ale, and Bostonians drink ale. It was a well-meaning pairing of two groups who happen to appreciate beer. The problem was that there was baseball to be played, and it seemed like AnAnonymousIdiot's Aleworkers were better equipped to handle a transition to baseball than DivineCoffeeBinge's Murph's. The proof was in the lineup card.

In a scribbled scrawl, several key positions looked like gibberish. The umpire crew chief tried his best to decipher it, but he mistook "Foxx" for "Finney" and "Williams" for "DiMaggio". When DCB tried to send his team out as planned, the umpire told him what the lineup card actually said. Too drunk to argue, DCB just threw up his arms and half a pint of nitro stout, and let his team take the field without their two best hitters.

It didn't matter for most of the game, though. Boston's Harvey Haddix kept a potent Loveland lineup off balance for most of the game, bending at various points a little without breaking. And down 3-0 by the fifth, the Murphs' offense fought back with a run in the fifth and two in the seventh to leave the newly tied ballgame in the hands of the bullpens.

Lou Finney was an interesting case of a man relatively unknown to the Super-League getting an unexpected start. Ron Davis, however, was counted on by DCB to close games for the Murphs. His presence on the mound in a late and close game was, bizarrely, expected. As a journeyman reliever of middling skill, he is not a classic Super-League reliever like your Fingerses, Gossageses, or Riverases.

And so it was not a great surprise that he was immediately victimized.

Single.
Sac bunt.
Intentional walk to set up a double play.
Double.
Intentional walk to load the bases.
Single.
Strikeout.
Single.
Single.
Strikeout.

A 3-3 nailbiter transformed into a 8-3 laugher, which propelled the Aleworkers to a respectable 9-6 record on the season, reason enough to visit the gastropub and celebrate after the game. And the loss sent the Murphs to a nice, but disappointing, 6-9, reason enough to visit the dive bar and drink away their sorrow. But before that, each team would need a few beers to settle their nerves, and then a couple road beers to rehydrate themselves after the game.

AnAnonymousIdiot sat at the podium for the press conference with a small port glass filled with sherry cherry cyser. He took delicate sips in between questions regarding his team's victory.

"I guess the difference between our team is pacing. We knew the game would be 9 innings, so we looked at more sessionable brews to keep things going longer. The baseball season is like brewing beer. It's all about making sure you sanitize things, keep things temperature controlled, add in only the best grain and hops, the best water, and then just keep carrying on with an even keel until you pour some drat fine beer. That's baseball to a T."

While the beat writers weren't sure how much the manager's analogy worked, he at least was in a state to discuss baseball. DCB was slumped over the microphone, alternating between moans and snores. The only response he gave was to a question about his lineup decisions, a tortured "I don't caaaaaarrrrrrrre" before stumbling away from the dais, holding his head in his hands, making a troubling "URP" sound inside his mouth, and then jog-stumbling off the stage.

GAME NOTES

- Jim Kitty Kaat had a homer! Woo!

- Both starters had quality starts of dubious quality, each giving up 3 runs. Haddix struck out 6 hitters, including some tough customers like Ty Cobb and Lou Gehrig, and looked a little sharper overall.

- George Grantham had two errors. It's hard to really say it's his fault, since he was put at shortstop despite never playing an inning at shortstop. And even when he played second base, his normal position, he gave up tons of errors (.949 career F% at 2nd). And he's a rookie! In his second year he gave up 55 errors! His nickname is Boots for a reason. If you want his bat in your lineup you better get ready for comedy in the field.

- No really who the hell is Lou Finney?

- In "It's just a little early, they're still good, they're still good" theater, Lou Gehrig is hitting .118 for the Aleworkers, and Mike Piazza is hitting .103 for the Murphs.

Old McDonald posted:

DIRELY NEEDED WIN FOR DIREWOLVES OVERSHADOWED AS POISONING STRIKES AUROCHS' BULLPEN

Besaid Island - This just wasn't the day for the Aurochs. They got off to a hot start this season, coming into Week 3 at 8-5 only half a game behind the division leaders, the Cosmic Space Fish, despite having a pythagorean record of 5-8, and the team has rallied behind first-time owner The Big Tebowski, enjoying their newfound image as the plucky rookie underdog that finds a way to succeed against all odds, spitting in the face of sabermetrics and just winning, baby. However, all was not well at Besaid Island.

Coming into town were the Yellowstone Direwolves, a team down on its luck and desperate for a win, a team looking to prove that they belong, a team that just really wants their hitters to stop being so god drat terrible. With deadball-heavy pitching in hand and Good Pitcher Deacon Phillippe taking the mound, the Direwolves were ready to reverse their fortunes, and the situation coming into the game was looking good for them. For the Aurochs, Bob Gibson would be making the start - a man who has struggled in his first two outings and might be starting to fear for his spot in the rotation. And as many successful owners can tell you, fear is a emotion to capitalize on.

The game itself was that kind of game. You know the one - the one where things start off on the wrong foot, and then things don't get any better. Gibson would surrender four runs in the first four innings, and would continue to get hammered throughout the game, giving up nine earned runs before he would finally be removed from the game, but by that point, the damage was done, and the Direwolves ended the game with a very crucial 10-5 victory. The Aurochs' offense, bless them, simply didn't have the heart they seemed to have before the game, and all the players involved in the game felt rather deflated. As such, the post-game interview duty for the Aurochs fell to Clark Griffith, the long relief pitcher.

"Well, I'm not sure what to say, really," began Griffith. "The team seemed like such a cohesive unit up to this point, but now I get the feeling that anything could happen. Being beaten so soundly at home kind of reinforces the idea that we're not deserving of our winning record, and that can make players very nervous. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if things start getting out of hand. Have you considered that players might start seriously harming other players to secure their spots or to get a chance to move up? I have." Upon being asked what he means by that, Griffith replied, "I might be a bit paranoid, but I wouldn't be surprised if some player who's been doing kind of badly starts considering more... extreme methods of maintaining his spot. I've talked to some players that have spent some time in the void that is the minor leagues of the Sub-Par League, and I hear it's a terrifying experience. Did you know tha-"

Griffith was suddenly interrupted by a violent coughing fit, and it didn't take long for it to become noticeable that the sand underneath his feet was turning red. He looked at his hand, blood dripping down from it, then collapsed. Havoc quickly came to the normally quiet beachside territory outside Luca Stadium - both teams rushed to the scene alongside their owners, and accusations were wildly slung from both sides. The referees that were still there tried their hardest to keep the teams from breaking into a massive brawl, as JR Leap and The Big Tebowski managed to drag the lifeless Griffith out of the scuffle and to the medical facility that every team in the Super-League or Sub-Par League is legally required to have on hand.

It didn't take long for the two owners to return, and after finally calming the two sides down to an acceptable volume, The Big Tebowski began to speak. "Now, I know what you're all thinking, but I want to say that the situation is not what it seems. Even though it might look bad, it's not wha-" "Oh, shut up!" JR Leap interrupted. "Quit trying to save your own rear end and just admit that there's a murderer on your team!" The continuing arguments suddenly all shut down, and silence filled the area as all eyes were fixed on the two owners, JR Leap staring daggers straight into The Big Tebowski as he tries and fails to sink into the floor. "Yes, she's right," he eventually admitted. "The doctors have confirmed that Clark Griffith was poisoned, and he was poisoned with the intent to kill, though they have managed to at least avert that scenario." The silence resumed as everybody slowly came to terms with what they had just heard.

"So admit it! There's a killer on your team!" JR Leap accused. "Now hold on just one drat minute!" Mickey Mantle stormed into the middle of the crowd that had formed around the two owners. "Who's to say it was one of our players who did it? Maybe it was one of yours! Maybe it was YOU, and you're just trying to cover your rear end!" "Wait, let's not jump to conclu-" The Big Tebowski tried to mediate, but was immediately shot down by JR Leap, who got right in Mantle's face and fired right back, "I can see what Armitage was saying about you is true. Just use your thick skull for once, you dullard! If I, or any one of my team for that matter, was to poison one of your players to kill, why the gently caress would I take out your god drat long relief man? I'd have gone for Barry Bonds, or maybe you, since I didn't know how stupid you were yet!"

Mantle, taken aback by the fire that has been lit inside JR Leap, who had normally been a lot more reserved and less aggressive, backed off. After another short pause, Todd Helton broke the silence. "Maybe we should try and analyze this situation a bit more. Tebowski, did the doctors have an idea just how Griffith was poisoned? Maybe he wasn't the original target?" "It has been determined that Griffith was poisoned from the water supplies we keep down in the bullpen," Tebowski replied. "While that may make it sound like anybody could have gotten hit with the poison, you should know that every player on our team has their own personal water supply, so Griffith was definitely the target for this poisoning. Furthermore, we know from witness accounts that Griffith only drank from the water during the fifth inning, so the water must have been poisoned then, but not before the game started, as the stadium staff did a screening of the water." From the back, Ernie Banks spoke up. "Wait, every player gets their own water supply? Why the hell would you do something so needlessly complex?" "It was supposed to make every player feel like an unique part of the team," Tebowski explained. Banks remained skeptical. "What, so you want every player to feel like a special snowflake? What kind of new-age crap is tha-" "Just shut the gently caress up, alright? We don't have time for this crap." Ted Williams, known for consistently being stuck with teams he'd never willingly play for, was growing increasingly tense.

"We've established that Griffith was the intended target for this murder attempt. Furthermore, I think we can all agree that the killer must come from the Aurochs - Griffith's post-game interview combined with him being a low-value player to our side means that none of us had any real reason to go after him. The next problem is either finding the motive, or finding the opportunity," Helton resumed. "We should probably take another look at the season stats and this game in particular, and the answer might become clear." As the referees brought out their scoresheets and the owners their season stats, everybody huddled around them, awaiting the revelations that would come from them.

The owners were the first to present their reasonings, but the results weren't great. The prime suspect would probably have to come from the Aurochs' rotation, since Griffith would have replaced one of them, if anybody. However, the worst performing pitcher on the Aurochs, Bob Gibson, had an alibi - he was pitching during half of the innings from the first to the fifth, and Tebowski stated that as a measure to prevent negative interference, the current pitcher is not allowed entry to the bullpen during the team's offensive innings. The referees had similarly discouraging results - while there were some interesting things happening during the game, like Jackie Robinson making two errors, and Bob Gibson giving up five home runs, but nothing that would point towards reasonable suspicion for a potential suspect.

With these weak results, discussions flared up violently, and accusations were flying all over the place. "Maybe one of the ballboys had a grudge against Griffith..." "...the interviewer wanted a newsworthy story, so he coordinated a live murder..." "...Griffith couldn't bear the pressure, so he wanted to kill himself?" "As Ombudsman of the Super-League, I would like to offer a trade for Barry Bonds..." "...somebody set up a dead pool and wanted to win big?" "...a serial killer targeting only long relievers?"

"EVERYBODY, SHUT UP!"

JR Leap's voice boomed across the beachside, and all eyes focused on her. She continued: "I know who did it, and I can exactly explain how it happened and why it happened." "You... what?" Pete Alexander was stunned. "But there's not nearly enough evidence, pretty much anybody could hav-" "Oh no, that's not the case, my dear, and you should know that." Suddenly, Alexander found himself in the middle of the crowd, surrounded by judging eyes, as JR Leap continued her explanation. "After all, it was YOU who did it!"

"Wh- I- Bu- ...WHAT?" Alexander was speechless, trying to compose himself after the accusation that has been flung at him, and as the crowd gathered tighter around him, JR Leap continued her assault. "It's as clear as day! I know you deadballer types, I know what makes you tick, and I know how your mind works! I was formed by the deadball, molded by it! I AM the deadball! And because of that, I know that being on this team has been driving you absolutely insane! On the Fat Hippos, you were a celebrated hero, the one people could depend on, the rock that made the team survive as long as it did! Not to mention, that team had some actual talent, some actual potential! Here, you're in the same rotation as Bob loving Tewksbury? Come on, I know that was driving you nuts - the great Pete Alexander, one of the few legitimate aces of the Super-League, on the same rotation as a pitcher with a 104 career ERA+ that had never even sniffed the air of the Super-League? An embarrassment!"

Alexander, still stunned by the situation, was bombarded from all sides by questions and accusations from his teammates. "Did you really think that?" "How could you! We trusted you!" "Should we make an example out of him?" All the while, JR Leap piled on the pressure. "It was clear to you, this team had to die - you would easily find new employment, probably with a good Super-League team that scammed a new owner out of their #2 Dispersal Draft pick, not this group of rag-tag idiots that couldn't win survival if their life depended on it! And you had just the plan to make it happen - you obviously knew of the unique water supply rules this team has, and as the star pitcher of the team, it would be easy to have some waterboy just sneak a little something extra in somebody's water... but going big right away would be too obvious, too suspicious. Better to try it on some unsuspecting mid-level bullpen player... what about that Clark Griffith guy? Nobody's going to miss him, right? It would just be written off as just another tragic accident, being rather common in the Sub-Par League. But you didn't count on the Deadball Whisperer herself seeing right through your plan!"

The Aurochs were closing in more and more around Alexander, who was still too overwhelmed to even offer up any sort of resistance. "You disgusting egotist!" "How full of yourself to you have to be to think of something like that?" "Is this all just a game to you?" "Maybe we should give you a taste of your own medicine!" Alexander was no longer willing to accept this situation as reality. It had to be a nightmare. He was going to wake up any moment now. But while this was a nightmare, it wasn't one he was going to wake up from. JR Leap had completely taken control of the situation, and she was reveling in every moment of it. "So you put your plan into action," she continued, "and started making preparations. A quick trip to the local Besaid medical center, a disarming smile and a bit of that star pitcher charm, and you found yourself in the possession of some hydrochloric acid. Just throw in some line about doing some home-made leatherworking or the like, nobody will question it. From there, things were a cinch to work out. You'd offer the waterboy an autographed ball, and send him to the back to fetch one for you to sign sometime during the second inning. Everybody else was too busy screaming at Bob Gibson giving up home runs to people like Reggie Jackson, so you just slipped some of that acid into Griffith's water, and the rest was history. You thought it was the perfect crime, didn't you? You thought you'd get away with it! You thought you'd be on your way to the Super-League in no time, while leaving the rest of the team to die! Admit it! ADMIT IT!"

JR Leap had whipped the entire Aurochs team into a frenzy, and everybody joined in in screaming at Alexander, who had been reduced to what just as well could have been a corpse, lying in the fetal position in the Besaid sand as insults, accusations and curses rained down on him. And then, he finally cracked.

"ALRIGHT, I loving ADMIT IT! I WANTED TO KILL THAT WORTHLESS gently caress AND THIS ENTIRE GOD drat TEAM!" He proceeded to launch into a long story about all the other Pete Alexanders in the Super-League - his agesake on the Eazy W's, the one on the Oranges, the one on the Symphony, even the two on the Aleworkers. All of them were more respected than him, "The One That Never Made It". The one stuck on teams with no promise, the one that was destined to be stuck in the Sub-Par League, being picked by the worst teams coming out of the EC season in, season out. By the end of it, he was in tears, asking if his team was happy now that they know how he really felt. "So, what now? Are you going to maybe tear one of my arms off and force me to pitch regardless? Maybe break my legs?"

The answer from Tebowski was succinct. "Are you nuts? You're still the best pitcher on this team, we can't afford to lose you. We're going to be keeping a very close eye on you, and you're on a very short leash, but we can't just take you out of our plans just because you tried to kill some reliever." In the end, there was an atmosphere of immense unease - the Aurochs will never be quite the same again, and time will tell whether they can get past this disaster or they continue to falter. Eventually, the two teams dispersed, each player to their own destination.

A few hours later, at the same beachside, now deserted, two people meet. "So, this is now your plan?" "Well, it worked, didn't it? There's no way this team is still working together as a cohesive unit now that they know there's a murderer amongst them. Pfft. Know. Yeah, right." "Why did they buy it?" "Because they thought it made sense. Give a crowd a vaguely sensible target and beat on it long enough, and they'll eventually start believing it themselves. From then on, it's simply a matter of working the target over until they'd rather give in than fight for the truth."

Pander shook his head. "Remind me not to piss you off."

JR Leap laughed. "As long as we're not in the same division, you're fine." She then pulled out a small bottle marked "Hydrochloric Acid" out of her pocket and tossed it into the ocean.

"One down, two to go."

GAME NOTES

- Yeah, Bob Gibson gave up five home runs. That's not a good thing. I'm running five Schillings, a pitcher that has a problem with giving up home runs, and even I'd be starting to worry.

- Batters are starting to hit over .200 for the Direwolves! Progress!

- Did you know that when it's late at night and I've had too much caffeine, I like to write a whole lot, usually more than I really should and also usually in an overdramatic fashion? Well, now you know!

Ice To Meet You posted:

Milt Thompson posted:

Two questions:

1. Can we get these things for Super-League teams too?
2. Is team chemistry actually a factor in the sim engine? Because I'm worried my Heinie Manush is also missing his Harry Heilmann.

Ice To Meet You posted:

JR Leap's voice boomed across the beachside, and all eyes focused on her. She continued: "I know who did it, and I can exactly explain how it happened and why it happened." "You... what?" Pete Alexander was stunned. "But there's not nearly enough evidence, pretty much anybody could hav-" "Oh no, that's not the case, my dear, and you should know that." Suddenly, Alexander found himself in the middle of the crowd, surrounded by judging eyes, as JR Leap continued her explanation. "After all, it was YOU who did it!"

Mornacale posted: