May 30, 2013

Can't Hit For Shit

The Incredible Two-Headed Hitting Coach Jack Maloof and Andre David have been reassigned back to the minor league positions they've held for the last several years. So instead of screwing up the hitting abilities of the Royals' major leaguers, they can resume screwing up the hitting abilities of their minor leaguers.

In any case, the team actually doing something is always cause for celebration around these parts. If you couldn't tell from yesterday's post, I was dangerously close to putting a gun in my mouth.


Now I'll probably just continue cutting myself instead.

Because, really, this solves nothing. But it's a start.

So here's to you, Jack Maloof and Andre David, the first two heads to roll:

Maloof pretty much asked for this yesterday, but leave it to the Royals to give him one last game to show his coaching skills.

We welcome new interim hitting coaches George Brett and Pedro Grifol.

I don't know who the hell Pedro Grifol is, so I can't comment on him. But I'm happy Brett is coaching, even if temporarily. He seems like the one guy the Royals are okay with making negative comments about the organization. I'm hoping Brett goes off on these idiots tonight. First guy who does a hand signal will likely get some F-bombs lobbed at him.

And luckily for this blog, Brett will never truly be shitcanned, because the man rarely uses the shitter.

Here's the classic Bellagio story, because why the hell not:

Go Double-Tapered Shits! You're the Best!

May 29, 2013

Breaking Their Word

You may remember before the season began that we thoroughly mocked the Royals 2013 slogan, "Come to Play." After a month of above-average baseball, we were looking kind of like assholes, but now Kansas City has followed up its hot start with a month that rivals and perhaps eclipses the shittiness of April 2012.
Which means it's time to once again analyze "Come to Play."

It's certainly not a maxim these Royals have been following the past few weeks. They don't seem to be doing much playing lately. Instead, they "Come to Lose." They "Come to Suck." They "Come Away Empty Handed." They "Come Down to Earth." They "Come to Flash Hand Signals."

And for fans, we "Come to Waste Money" and "Come to be Depressed" and just flat out "Complain."

So enough of the coming. I'm happy to see the team going, even if it's just to St. Louis and Texas to lose some more.

But I think before the team returns to Kansas City, the marketing department needs to consider some alternate slogans for the Royals moving forward.

Luckily for them, Royales with Cheese is here to help. You see, we've been following the Royals pretty closely this year, particularly a lot of the interviews with players and coaches. These guys may not know how to play, but they certainly can turn a phrase. Why invent a slogan when you can just swipe one?

You're probably thinking we're just going to bring up the now infamous "Third-Baseman Tree" and the soon-to-be infamous "Take my belt off and spank them" lines from Edgar "Ned" Yost. You should know us better than that. Maybe back in 2006, when there weren't already forty-eight other Royals blogs on the internet doing the same thing, but now we have to dig a little deeper.

So we're going with something Yost said back in spring training in reference to former #1 draft pick and organizational debris Luke Hochevar. Here's the quote: "We just have too much faith in his ability. He's just too good not to be good."

That about sums things up for this franchise, doesn't it? Ned, Dayton, the players, and we the fans all just have too much faith in their ability. We all think they are just too good not to be good.

We are wrong.

How else do you explain Ned saying there's nothing he can do as the manager, even though he's seemingly doing nothing beyond continuing to play the shittiest players and then just crossing his fingers?

How else do you explain Dayton saying there's nothing he can do as the GM, even though he has overpaid, under-performing players on the roster and better options (read as: replacement-level players) in the minors, if not across town playing for the T-Bones?

How else do you explain Mike Moustakas saying there's nothing he can do to get out of his slump other than continue to play, even though he's not watching any film, not practicing any more, and apparently not working one-on-one with anybody to fix his problems?
How else do you explain us, the easily duped fans, thinking it's ever going to get better with these people making the decisions they are making?

We all have TOO MUCH FAITH.


But they are the Royals.

And they suck.

Just like they always suck.

Which, really, maybe that's what the slogan should be.

Billy Butler said it a few days ago: “This sucks. It sucks. The only thing I do know: this sucks.”

Your 2013 Kansas City Royals new slogan? This Sucks.

Hey Royals, your faith is unwarranted.
You need to get off your asses and do something pro-active if you ever want to be competitive. Demote or cut the players who are sucking. Fire the coaches and front-office personnel who aren't getting the job done. Bring in somebody who's actually willing to deal with problems instead of someone who is content to watch this bullshit on a daily basis.
Just believing things will get better has done nothing but result in the longest playoff drought in professional sports.
Hey Royals! This Sucks!

May 26, 2013

Aloha, Mr. Hand

Do you remember last year when Ryan and Rex went off on the Royals players for fraternizing with the enemy when they reached base? The argument was that they were laughing, having a good time, and not taking the game seriously. That they shouldn't be friends with the opponents, should conduct themselves as professionals, and should focus on the game itself BECAUSE BASEBALL IS SERIOUS BUSINESS.

 And then a few days after those comments, the Royals made it a rule that their players couldn't talk to the opponents on the field.

And then they won the World Series.

Just kidding.

Not talking to the opponents did not make the team win more.

In fact, as far as I can tell, making that rule has only caused the Royals to act like even bigger douchebags when they get on base. This team is sinking like a rock-- not just in the standings, but also in their maturity level. If you've been watching this team the last few weeks, I'm guessing you're yelling at the TV just as much as I am whenever a guy reaches base.

Because despite being in a freefall (losing 15 out of 19 games!), the players are doing stupid shit like this:

 photo hosmer-fingers1_zpsea349fe4.gif

And this:

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And this:

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And this:

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And this:

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And this:

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It's ridiculous and stupid.

They are ridiculous and stupid.

This team is ridiculous and stupid.

Last year, they started the season 3-14, and they were forced to stop talking to opponents. This year, they are in a 4-15 stretch, and they are behaving like a bunch of jackasses, and nobody is saying one word about it.








 photo crow-blowing_zpse1e26269.gif

Actually, the Aaron Crow Blow Jibber thing was last season.

But still.

This team is behaving like children.

These hand signals have to stop. 

No, they aren't causing the Royals to lose. But they are certainly symptomatic of a team that is not governed by any sort of real authority. If Ned Yost were a better manager, he'd tell them to stop. If Dayton Moore were a better GM or David Glass were a better owner, they'd fine the players.

I can handle the losing (we are in YEAR 27 of no playoffs), but I can't handle rooting for a bunch of jackasses.

Go To Your Room, Royals! Think About What You've Done!

May 23, 2013

Only Skim Deep

Hey gang! I thought it was time to bring some Royals literature to this blog. I even purchased books by several current and former Royals players, coaches, and broadcasters to share with you. Over the last several months, I've glanced through most of them in blocks of five-to-ten minutes while sitting on the toilet. 

Surprise: most of them ARE better than this blog, but none of them are really very good. So instead of covering those real books, I thought it would be fun to imagine some hypothetical Royals literature instead. 

It means less time strapped to a toilet reading the same anecdotes over and over, at least.

Unfortunately, while prepping for this blog post, I found that I'm too lazy to even read a fake book. 

How can I share with you a book that does not exist and that I haven't read?

It's called the Internet, you idiot:

That's right, Snarknotes. It's like Sparknotes, only it's fake! 

To cover a book that doesn't exist, one must use a website that doesn't exist. 

Let's do this.

For our first post in this series, we'll be engaging in a cram session on
the classic made-up novel The Great Getzby:

One of the best fake novels never written. 

Just check out these quotes from the back of the book jacket:

"When Getzby gets hot, we'll ride him." -- Ned Yost

"Have a night, Getzby!" -- Rex Hudler

Read more here:" -- Ned Yos

"Gay." -- Gordon Beckham

If you don't trust these three men, then I don't know what the hell to tell you.

Plot Overview:
The novel covers the first two months or so of Getzby's 2013 season as a Kansas City Noble. Apparently the author could not get Major League Baseball to allow the use of the "Royals" name. Anyway, the novel covers this tumultuous time in Getzby's career. He's been in the big leagues for five years, has just signed his first million-dollar contract, and seems like the wildest, most carefree player on the Nobles roster.  In the first few chapters, he can often be found throwing decadent RBI Baseball gaming parties and drinking Bacardi Breezers like a Baller. But these good times in KC are really an illusion. The character doesn't have love, and despite the airs he puts on, is actually living a lie. His name is not Chris Getzby, but actually Christopher Getz, and his money has been made off deception. In truth, he has little talent and less charisma. This becomes apparent when he can't get a hit for nearly three weeks, during which time he also misses a week's worth of games due to allergies.

In the final chapter, the Nobles are playing the Houston Cosmos, and Getzby gets to lead off in a bid to win the series against one of the worst teams in baseball. He manages a walk and a hit, but he also gets picked off first base, effectively ending any chance of the Nobles winning the game. While everyone wants to go after manager Ned Yost and even bigger bums Jeff Francoeur and Mike Moustakas, Getzby takes the fall for the franchise, and loses his job to Elliot Johnson and Johnny Giavotella.

Recurring Themes/Motifs:
Getzby faceplanting while trying to slide
#FreeGio Tweets
Chimp Face
Empty Stadium Seats
The word "Grit"

Critical Analysis:
Now, unfortunately, this fake book is a work of fiction. There's probably no way Houston would ever think of changing their name to Cosmos no matter how cool that sounds. Also, there's that thing about Getz losing his job. That's not happening any time soon, but it's what makes this fake book so astounding. It concludes with the Nobles doing something the actual Royals franchise would never do in a million years: demoting/cutting a scuffling, overrated, and overvalued player. It truly would be a loss of innocence for this team were it to ever happen, but it's a move that is sorely needed.

Popular Adaptations:
  • What's Eating Gilbert Getzby? Dir. Lasse Hallström. Perf. Leonardo DiCaprio, Johnny Depp, Juliette Lewis, and John C. Reilly. Paramount, 17 Dec. 1993. Film.
  • "The Great Balki." Episode #54. Perfect Strangers. Dir. Joel Zwick. Perf. Mark Linn-Baker and Bronson Pinchot. Miller-Boyett Productions, 4 Nov. 1988. Television.
  • Pink Floyd. "The Great Gig in the Sky." The Dark Side of the Moon. Capitol Records, 1973. LP.
  • Tyler Perry Presents Peeples, Dir. Tina Chism. Perf. Kerry Washington, David Alan Grier, and Craig Robinson. Lionsgate, 10 May 2013. Film.

Suggestions for Further Reading:
Herk Robinson Crusoe
Allard's Adventures in Wonderland
The Old Man and the C Prospect
George Orwell's 1985
The Seven Habits of Highly Defective Players
Tuesdays with Hal Morris
BlakenStein; or, The Maudlin Promnesia
Charlie O. and the Yankee Factory
Twenty-Seven Years of Solitude

I assume we'll try to cover all of the above and more as this series continues.

If you have another fake Royals book you'd like us to Snarknote, drop us a line in the comments or via e-mail.

Yo La Tengo! Fakebook is the Best!

May 21, 2013

Royales with Ch'i

Good morning! The Royals continued their tailspin last night, losing to the powerhouse that is the Houston Astros. This was following a three-game sweep by the Oakland A's.

Obviously, something needs to be done. Whether it's firing Ned Yost, ritualistically sacrificing Sluggerrr, or trading for an actual first, second, or third baseman, the Royals cannot continue this freefall.

Luckily, the Royals Museum of Art is doing its part. Last year, Kauffman Stadium added a new wing to the Hall of Fame, a series of commissioned works of art that were all things Royal. We're talking Billy Butler nipplage, Frank White with his can of Pepsi Max, Jeff Francoeur as Napoleon, and more. But none of those compare to the first piece added this season...

A Mandala of the Royals Family.

What's a mandala?

It's a work of art used by Hindus and Buddhists to aid in meditation.

And if any team needs to meditate on some shit, it's these Royals.

Luckily, a middle-aged New Age Holistic veterinary healer named Crystal Offenbach from Belle Fourche, SD, has studied dozens of mandalas on Google Image search, and she broke out her colored pencils to create this beauty:

The Chain of the Royals System, 14" by 14".

Catchy title, Crystal. I would have called it Royals System of a Down, but I'm a goddamn wordsmith.

Viewers of this image are probably trying to figure out what all the different segments of this mandala represent. They're all teams that have ties to the Royals somehow. Most are minor league teams of past and present (some different segments have the same teams with different names and some have different teams with the same names), but a couple are previous Kansas City franchises as well. 

Go ahead and rack your brain on this for a half hour or so while you should be working.

Or, if you're a lazy S.O.B., we have a numbered map to help. 

You can see the answers to the key in the comments of this post.

Go Numbered Keys! You're the Best!

May 17, 2013

Common Starling

Bubba Starling has been somewhat of a disappointment since his selection fifth overall in the 2011 MLB Draft. He didn't exactly set the world on fire last year in Rookie ball at Burlington, and this year, as a Lexington Legend, he's been positively Francoeur-like. Bubba's been mashing lefties, but overall is sporting just a .213 average and has struck out four times more often than he's walked. 

Looking for answers (or at least a good excuse), Bubba received LASIK surgery yesterday to help fix poor night-vision.

We'll see if it helps, but no doubt, Bubba hasn't seemed the top prospect we expected him to be when he was drafted. Here's an image I came across that I thought encapsulated the first couple of years of pro baseball for Starling:

The body language is pretty telling. Even in a minor league split-squad spring training game, this kid seems pretty defeated by his troubles.

In fact, Bubba seems so frustrated and hopeless in that picture that I thought he could be transported to any number of locations and scenarios to reflect that same disgust.

Presenting the first post in a new series-- 




Go Bubba! Please Get Better!

May 14, 2013

Grimace's Room Looks Like a Pigpen!

Sometimes I feel like Ken Harvey was nothing more than a weird dream I had.

He was actually a pretty promising player, a corn-fed Nebraska Cornhusker who made short work of the minor leagues and seemed destined to be the Royals first baseman for years. In his second full season in 2004, he had a strong first half and was the Royals' lone All-Star representative.

He pretty much tanked it for the rest of the season, with injuries to his back and Achilles taking their toll on him over the next year. During that time, he became a punching bag for Royals fans for his strikeouts, pop-ups, and bizarre injuries... Not to mention his lack of speed, grace, power, and looks.  During this time, he gained the nickname "Grimace," I guess because he resembled a french-fry-eating purple blob. I'll let you decide if that's racist or not.

Following his release from the Royals, Harvey joined the Kansas City independent team  known as the T-Bones. There were some feel-good stories written by the KC media at the time about how Harvey was finally having fun again, how he might have a chance to make it back to the big leagues, but then a couple of years later, Harvey was also released by the T-Bones.

It was a sad ending to Harvey's KC career, but luckily, we'll always have the time he accidentally punched Jason Grimsley in the throat.

Here are a couple of GIFs of that, because of course there are:

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So why am I talking about Harvey right now?

Unfortunately, I ran into something very troubling on Baseball Reference recently that made me feel a lot like Jason Grimsley in the above GIFs.

This is a screenshot from Eric Hosmer's page:

Eric Hosmer's most "Similar Batter" is Ken Harvey!?! And a bunch of dudes I've never heard of? And then way down the list a couple of guys just because they broke into the league young, not because Hosmer has done anything remotely like them.

I found that troubling, so I went to Ken Harvey's page, where the worst was confirmed:

Pretty much the same names, but also, Doug Motherfucking Mientkiewicz.


So yeah, the odds are much better that Eric Hosmer becomes a less fat Caucasian version of Ken Harvey (a Chris Shelton, if you will) than, say, a helmet-less John Olerud.

By the way, I just Googled Chris Shelton and found out he's the cousin of Chiefs quarterback Alex Smith.



Anyway, this seems like as good a time as any to look at some Ken Harvey cards I had lying around.


Let's do this.

2002 Flair #118:
Is this where the Grimace nickname comes from? Because that bitch looks like Grimace.

2004 Topps #462:
Ken Harvey, obese hitchhiker.

2004 The Jones Store Autograph Day:
This one may as well be a Death Tarot card. It features two Kansas City icons that would be gone within the year. Deservedly so, but still.

2004 Diamond Kings #132:
I love the way the artist managed to capture Harvey's badly manscaped goatee and lazy eye.

2004 Fleer Ultra #295:
These were the kind of unfortunate action shots that made Harvey the butt of jokes.
Basically, he looks like your fat aunt in a baseball uniform. Or Kim Kardashian. ZING!  

1994 Coca-Cola Monsters of the Gridiron #5:
Ken Harvey: Now with a reservoir tip!

Actually, this is the Ken Harvey who played football for the Phoenix Cardinals and Washington Redskins in the early 90s. He's portraying the very well-known monster "The Construction Worker."

The Monsters of the Gridiron series of cards may be my favorite cards of all time... the only football cards I ever actively cared about collecting. I'll probably never have another chance to show this, so here's the Derrick Thomas one for any Chiefs fans who read this blog--

1994 Coca-Cola Monsters of the Gridiron #15:

I've clearly gotten off track. 

I guess that should do it for this edition of Royals vs. Cards.

Go Ken Harvey! You're the Roundest!

May 9, 2013




You knew it was bad last night when instead of discussing the close game going on in front of them, Ryan Lefebvre and Rex Hudler started talking about what living in a Jetsons-style future might be like. 

Ryan was excited about the possibility that he'd be able to "tell your wall you want an omelet or a steak, and it will just materialize."

Rex said that "many countries, uh, like Japan, they already have that technology."

This was a real discussion in the eighth inning.

So yeah, they were smoking some good shit last night.

Anyway, I find the only thing that cheers me up on days like this is a series of rapid-fire jokes. They don't have to be particularly funny; I just need three out of nine to hit and I'm good. Call it the Zucker-Abrahams-Zucker Ratio.

Let's do this.

Here is the latest in our series of hit-or-mostly-miss MEMES.

Please to enjoy:

How was that? Did 33% of those make you laugh? Or at least grin? Or at least smile inwardly? Or did I blow it? 

I'm sorry.

I'm so stupid.

I'd like to promise you we'll do better, but you and I both know that's a lie.

Go Royals! You're Bringing Me Down, Man!

May 6, 2013

Groundling Out with Elliot Johnson

This past week, Chris Getz hit the bench with a case of the sniffles.

I'm not mocking here. He literally sat out several games in a row for "allergies" in a week when the Royals already had multiple days off because of weather and dumb scheduling.

I don't mean to belittle the guy, but this sure seems pretty pussified for someone who's only defining characteristic as a ballplayer is "grit." Grit means you aren't impacted by allergies or injuries or STDs. It means you play anywhere and everywhere you can. You bunt, you steal, you dive, you run. If you have to blow your nose, you blast a snot rocket onto the dirt and then use that snot to lubricate your slide into second base on your gritty-ass steal.

Getz's absence opened the door for Player-to-be-Named-Later Elliot Johnson to take over the title of Miss Grit 2013. And he responded by playing like a beast, even while mourning the death of his favorite rapper, Chris Kelly from Kriss Kross.

Up until last week, Johnson had mostly just been doing pre-game spots for Fox Sports KC.  Because they think he's funny, I guess?

For example, in Philadelphia, he sang the theme song to "Fresh Prince of Bel-Air" in front of a basketball court:

It was about as funny as it sounds.

See, Johnson isn't really funny. He's "baseball funny," which is to say, his only competition on the Royals for funniest guy is Bruce Chen, who is about as funny as a Laffy Taffy wrapper.

Yes, in the long tradition of comedians like Jim Belushi, Peter Aykroyd, Joel Murray, and Kevin Farley comes Elliot Johnson.  But he didn't always think he was funny. It wasn't until the age of twelve, when Johnson realized he bore a passing resemblance to Saturday Night Live funnyman Dana Carvey, that comedy might be an option.

A particular Dana Carvey skit on SNL-- Massive Headwound Harry-- proved to be his major inspiration. From then on, Johnson was going to the local Dollar Tree every Friday to blow his allowance on funny wigs and glasses so he could pretend to be the Church Lady, Garth Algar, and Ross Perot in school talent shows. But doing another man's famous impressions wasn't cutting it for long. Johnson had an itch to come up with his own funny personas. When he turned seventeen, he enrolled in his first improv class, and he's never looked back.

Here now, are some of Johnson's greatest characters:

Joe Crud:
He loves AC/DC, Skynyrd, and Def Lep! He has a mullet! And a mustache! And a wifebeater! Are you laughing yet!?

Catchphrase: "Life's a garden, dig it? I'm a redneck!"

White Urkel:
 Look at those glasses! And suspenders! And the bowtie! High-larious!

Catchphrase: "Got any cheese? Preferably something vegan? I'm a nerd!"

The Lindbergh Baby:
He was kidnapped as a baby! Now he's an adult baseball player, but he's never taken the tape off his mouth!
Tragedy + Time = Comedy!

Catchphrase: ". . ."

The Macklemore Brothers (With Joel Peralta): 
They are Canadian! They drink beer and watch hockey and say, "eh!" They wear "tuques!" Genius!

Catchphrase: "Take off you hoser! We're Canadians!"

Cameraman Dan:
He's a baseball player who also operates a camera! He's in two unions!
Don't you get it? It's a comedy mash-up, you idiot!

Catchphrase: "Look-at-a-me, look-at-a-meeeee.... Say Ziggy! I'm a cameraman!"

Delightful. Simply delightful.

Here's to you, Elliot Johnson. We look forward to laughing at you, not with you, for years to come.

Go Shitty Improv! You're the Best!

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