Category Archives: Spitting Image

Greivis’ Doppelganger Is ‘The Situation’

The first thing my wife said to me this morning was, “Put some pants on, and stop drinking so much coffee.” The second was, “Everyone on Facebook is posting their lookalike; you should do one of you and The Bachelor.”

Yeah, no, but I will use today’s meme as an excuse to share ACC Insider’s observation that Greivis Vasquez looks like that guy from Jersey Shore:

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I don’t know; maybe a little, especially if Greivis spent the first half of each day tanning, toning glamour muscles, grooming and shaving off body hair.

What I do know is that anytime there’s crossover between Jersey Shore and D.C. sports, rest assured that I’ll post it. You’re welcome.

AD: From Brown Hornet to Actual Hornet

ad-brown-hornet.jpgAntonio Daniels was a good Wizard these past few seasons as D.C. enjoyed a taste of playoff basketball, so I’m saddened by this, but it was time and we wish him well.

In exchange for the 33-year-old point guard and a conditional first-round pick (obtained from Memphis for Juan Carlos Navarro), Washington receives Javaris Crittendon, who was drafted 19th overall by the Lakers last summer and was since traded to Memphis, and Mike James, who is very old and once scored 20 per game for Toronto.

I know next to nothing about either player, so help me out, and join us in thanking the Brown Hornet for his service.

Smoot: Portis ‘Looks Like a Tadpole’

Cooley’s blog posts Fred Smoot’s “Wired Up” segment, and it’s as good as one would hope, especially the nickname portion where Smoot dubs Marcus Washington “Good Doctor”, Jason Campbell “Willie Fatfield” (which has morphed into “Skinny Benny”) and Clinton Portis “Tadpole” because, well, “he actually looks like a tadpole”:

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I see what you’re getting at, Mr. Smoot. It’s in the eyes. And the jewels.

Good stuff from the man whose jersey (the old 21, not the new 27) I wear on gameday, though his Super Bowl commercial doesn’t cut the mustard.

Semi-related: Fast Company names the six best sports bloggers, and Cooley makes the cut (as does Arenas), though I’ve never heard of two of the blogs and a third isn’t about sports. Plus, the line “Cooley’s prose is as effortless and hard-hitting as his brain-rattling tackles” leads one to believe that Fast Company shouldn’t be in the business of sports media criticism.

Daniel Cabrera Is the New Sidney Ponson

daniel-ponson.jpgThis week I lamented the loss of Sir Sidney, admitting that I root for him, even in Pinstripes. What I didn’t consider and probably wouldn’t have considered had it not been for Daniel Cabrera’s complete game victory (look ma, no walks!), is that Cabrera is Ponson, Ponson is Cabrera.

Both guys are evil temptresses, registering in the high 90s and hurling the odd brilliant game in which they go the distance, exhibit control and stalk off the mound looking like the pitcher you believe they can be. Their shared problem, of course, is  what’s between the ears. As a result, they get hit too hard, walk too many guys and repeatedly fail to live up to expectations.

Take a peak at their five-year numbers, and you can see that the results are similar (Cabrera’s are career to-date, Ponson’s his first five years):

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That’s uncanny really. There are slight differences (namely that Sid gave up more hits and Daniel issued more walks), but if Cabrera shrunk eight inches, gained six around the waist and grew red-faced on obesity, booze and Aruban sunshine, we’d be talking about spitting images here.

The good news, if you’re an O’s fan, is that D.C. is having his finest year: the walks are down, his ERA is lower and he’s actually won more than he’s lost. The bad news is that El Sid had similar success (you don’t say) in his fifth and sixth seasons, before completely dropping off the table ever since.

As I chose to do with Ponson, I focus on and root for the former with Cabrera. It’s a hope against hope, because there needs to be a whole lotta magic in Birdland for a 6’9″ enigma to solve the riddle before becoming a career-long mystery. Too bad his doppelganger never could.

Meathook Bobblehead Is a Spitting Image

dmitri-young-bobblehead.jpg … of Johan Santana.

Thursday is Dmitri Young Bobblehead Night at Nats Park, and Li’l Dmitri couldn’t look less like Big Dmitri. Actually, he could be a white man in a Phillies uniform, but, other than that, what we’re looking at here is a fit, well-groomed Latin ballplayer. Nice voodoo hands though.

And I don’t want to hear that “Starting Lineups Bobbleheads never look like the player” either, because look what Detroit did on Meathook Bobblehead Night. Now that’s a Li’l Dmitri to be proud of.

Regardless, I gots to have it. And my pops better be one of the first 15,000 in the door on Thursday, because he’s been sent there specifically for this purpose. And to watch the Nats, I suppose.

In other breaking bobblehead news, Pittsburgh has unleashed the ’89 Fleer Billy Ripken of bobbleheads on their unsuspecting faithful.

Spitting Image: Star Wars’ Jabba the Hut And ESPN’s Mike Patrick

Before the Duke-Maryland game last night (which we shall never speak of again), Mike Patrick did a little intro to tell us how no team in the country is playing better than Maryland right now (total bullshit), and other lies in an attempt to excite the general public.

As I watched him butcher the intro, the thought that kept coming back to me was “Jabba the Hut.” With Patrick’s fat head, wrinkly skin, big, bright red eyes and belly laugh, the similarities to Jabba are undeniable:

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Spitting Image: Jules From Pulp Fiction And 1983 World Champion Eddie Murray

It’s sad when trading your ace — with two years left on his contract! — for five minor leaguers makes you happy, but that’s where O’s fans are at right now. If you, like us, are among them, read Camden Chat’s goodbye to Erik Bedard and don’t miss their photo from better times — “Eddie and Cal getting CRUNK” — which sparked a commenter to mention this likeness:

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The follicular resemblance is uncanny, especially considering that’s after Eddie wore a ballcap for nine innings. So, yeah, tip the bottle and twist the cap for our friends over at Camden Chat and to our baseball team in Baltimore, which seems to have turned the corner.