Josh Q. Public: Don’t you know I’m still standing better than I ever did. Looking like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid. -Elton John
Public Service Announcement: OK, here we go! Like my main man Mark Twain always says: ”The rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated.” The rumors of Ken Griffey Jr’s death has been greatly exaggerated. Don’t call it a comeback! I been here for years. Rockin’ my peers and puttin’ suckas in fear. Ken Griffey Jr’s been here for years. Ken Griffey Jr’s been rockin’ his peers. Puttin’ suckers in fear. What’s the frequency Kenneth? I’ll tell you what the frequency is. Ken Griffey Jr. just hit his 569th career homer. That’s what the frequency is. He just moved into a tie for ninth place with Rafael Palmeiro. That’s what the frequency is. Just four back behind Harmon Killebrew. Fourteen back behind Mark McGwire. That’s what the frequency is. Griffey has been on a tear since the Red Legs moved him back into his accustomed third spot in the order. Since the Red Legs moved him back into his accustomed third spot in the order, Griffey has hit safely in seven of eight games. Hit four bombs. I am the rock hard trooper. To the bone, the bone, the bone. Full grown. Consider me stone. I’m louder than a bomb. He was louder than a bomb when he was selected with the first overall pick by the Seattle Mariners. Louder than bomb tearing it up his rookie year. Rookie of the Yearing it up. Then it happened. Then the first of many. Griff slipped in the shower and broke a bone in his right hand. He got knocked down. But he got up again. You’re never going to keep him down. Throughout the nineties he was a beast. The high priest. The best from West to East. Junior was arguably the best player of the decade. Cashing that checkade. A one man wreckade. He produced runs. He hit for average. He hit over .300 in seven years of the ‘90s. He hit for power. It’s gettin’ it’s gettin’ it’s gettin’ kinda hectic. He’s got the power. He smashed 422 bombs during the decade. He was the best center fielder of the decade. Gold Gloves from 1990 to 1999. Great range. Sick range. Home, home on the range. Where the deer and the antelope play. Diving plays. Spectacular plays. Say Hey Kid plays. Wheaties boxes. Knock off your sockses. Bagels and loxes. He was the man. He won games with his legs. Saving baseball in Seattle with his legs. You remember. You remember Game Five versus the Bombers. Series even at two apiece. Bottom of the 11th against the Bombers. Junior on first. Edgar with the hit. Hit it just a little bit. Hit it lickety split. There goes Griff. He…could…go…all…the…way. He does! He does! He scores from first base! Mariners win! Mariners win! Then he moved to Cincinnati. Then the injury bug hit. The injury bug hit hard. From 2001 through 2004, Junior was plagued by an endless string of injuries. Season-ending injuries. The injuries lowered his bat speed, lessened his power and curbed his home run production. He slugged only .426 before going down in 2002. His lowest output in seven years. He’s never been the same. A candle without a flame. The glory gone out of his game. But not so fast. He’s back. Back again. Griffey’s back. Tell a friend. Yup, Griffey’s back. Tell a friend. Tell ‘em the Public sent ya.
Public Acknowledgements: LL Cool J, REM, Associated Press, The Cincinnati Enquirer, Wikipedia, Public Enemy, Rex Trailer, Snap and Eminem.
Josh Q. Public:The tip’s get clocked, baby. The bond’s get stocked. My style gets rocked. Just like doors get knocked. With legendary status, like my name’s Lou Brock. -Everlast
Public Service Announcement: OK here we go! Here it comes. Here comes baseball. Like my main man Joey D always says: “You look forward to it like a birthday party when you’re a kid. You think something wonderful is going to happen.” I’m looking forward to it. I think something wonderful is going to happen. I live for this. What’s crack-a-lacking sports fans? I loved Lou Brock. Put you in shock. Stealing bases around the clock. A virtuoso like my main man Johann Sebastian Bach. I loved Tommy Harper. I loved Rock Raines. I loved Willie Wilson. Looking good in those baby blues. Faster than Deja Vu. Quicker than any cheetah in a zoo. I loved Firecracker Vince Coleman. I loved Willie Mays Hayes. The American Express Card. Don’t steal home without it. I loved Rickey Henderson. Probably the best lead-off hitter I’ve ever seen. The best base stealer there’s ever been. These are the cats with steals. These are the cats with the wheels. These are the cats as fast as Ferrari automobiles. Joe Morgan once said: “A good base stealer should make the whole infield jumpy.” So that’s what we want to know. Who in 2007 makes the whole infield jumpy?
Jose Reyes makes infields jumpy. Maybe the best in baseball. Reigning two-time National League champ. Fresh off his first All-Star season. The first player in baseball history to have more than 63 steals, 120 runs, 192 hits and 19 homers in a single season. The first player since Marquis Grissom to exceed sixty steals in consecutive seasons. In his short time with the New York Mets, he already ranks fifth all time. Jose Reyes: the hand shaking, base taking, record breaking, stolen base king.
Hanley Ramirez makes guys jumpy. Why can’t we get guys like that? Guys quick as a cat. Stealing second just like that. Getting down those base paths in no time flat. Rookie of the Year last year. Leading all rookies last year with fifty-one stolen bases. The first NL rookie to post 110-plus runs and 50-plus stolen bases in a season. The fifth big-league ball player since 1900 to hit 45-plus doubles and have 50-plus stolen bases. His future’s so bright, the fans call him Shadez.
Carl Crawford makes folks jumpy. Former two-time American League champ. Get the papers, get the papers. Second leading base stealer over the last five years. Last year, he had three stolen bases in two straight games. Prior to Crawford, the last three players to steal at least three bases in consecutive games were Luis Castillo in 2000, Rickey Henderson in 1983, 1988 and 1993 and Amos Otis in 1975. Crawford became only the eighth player in history to get 200 stolen bases before his 25th birthday. On that same day, he also stole home. Jackie Robinson style. Last year, Carl Crawford became the first player to collect five hits and four stolen bases in a game since Rickey Henderson did it for the Yankees on April 11, 1988. Carl Crawford giving folks a reason to believe down in Tampa.
Juan Pierre makes infields jumpy. Another two-time National League champ. Get the papers, get the papers. The leading base stealer in the 2000’s with 210. The leading base stealer over the last five years. Stole at least 45 bases each year from 2001 to 2006. With the Portland Rockies of the Northwest League, Juan won the stolen base title in his first professional season. Give him a reason. Say he won’t, and I’ll call it treason. Stealing his way through the baseball season.
Ichiro make cats jumpy. Yes, the hitting machine. Making infielders as jumpy as a Mexican jumping bean. Stealing bases is part of his routine. Last year, Ichiro’s 33 consecutive stolen bases surpassed the American League record set by Willie Wilson in 1980. Last year, Ichiro stole 45 bases. Good enough for 3rd in the AL. Good enough for 7th in the Majors. Ichiro, good enough for me.
Josh Q. Public: I’m the king of rock, there is none higher, sucker MC’s should call me sire. To burn my kingdom, you must use fire. I won’t stop rockin’ till I retire. -Run DMC
Public Service Announcement: Ok, here we go! It’s that time of year again. Spring is almost here again. Time to stand up and cheer again. Go to the old ball park and swill eight dollar beer again. I love it. I live for this. The one constant through all the years has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It’s been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt, and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. Terence Mann style. I can’t wait. I’ve got that anticipation. Need my instant gratification. Enough of this procrastination. Give me that intoxication. Card carrying member of Red Sox Nation. I can’t wait to see this D-Nice character pitch. Gy-ro-mite! JJ Evans style. I can’t wait for the all those damned Yankees games. I can’t wait for those steamy August nights, sitting on the back patio. Listening to the game on my transistor radio. Sipping on my champagne and lemonadio. Sure I’m a Sox fan, but I like some other guys. I like Jose Reyes. I like the Big Hurt. I like Grady Sizemore. I like Ryan Howard. And I like King Felix Hernandez.
Felix Abraham Hernandez. King Felix. El Cartuela. The Badass. He throws heat. Scalding heat. Torrid heat. Smoking heat. Blistering heat. Flaming heat. Rapid Robert Feller heat. Nolan Ryan heat. JR Richard heat. Heat clocked at over 100 mph. At fourteen he was throwing ninety-four. Yowza! He throws a big ole bender. He throws a nasty change. He throws a slider so deadly, so disgusting, so filthy, so grotesque, so repugnant, so revolting, that the Mariners rarely allow him to use it out of concern that it might injure his arm.
At the beginning of 2005, at the ripe old age of nineteen, Baseball America listed him as the No. 1 pitching prospect in baseball. With the Triple-A Tacoma Rainiers, the King led the league with a 2.25 ERA. The King threw 100 strikeouts in just 88 innings. The King was selected for the Triple-A All-Star Game. The King was named the Pacific Coast League Rookie of the Year and Pitcher of the Year. On top of the world looking down on creation. After battling back from injury, El Cartuela was called up in early August of 2005. Time to get it into gear. Long live the King, the King is here. At 19 years, 118 days, he was the youngest pitcher to appear in the major leagues since José Rijo came up with the Yankees back in 1984. His start has been lackluster at best. He’s been out of shape. It wasn’t until the midpoint of last season that we saw the real King. Pitching with zing. Back in full swing. In full swing hurling his first career shutout. In full swing hurling a five-hitter against the Angels that saw him burn through just 95 pitches. In full swing with a 2.93 strikeout-to-walk ratio, 176 Ks in 191 innings and a 2.39 groundball-fly ball ratio.
The King is in shape now. No more screwing around now. It’s all business now. Growed folks business. Baseball business. Major League Baseball business. The Big Show. No more Sloppy Joe. More like Lou Ferrigno. He gets it. He picked up some smarter eating habits. He’s been hitting the weights. He’s looking great. King of the Evergreen State. He showed up to camp weighing 20 pounds less than last year. So have no fear. The King will persevere. This will be his year. No more worrying about conditioning. Time to focus on the basics. The ABCs. Easy as one two three. Do re me. Time to focus on pitching. The 20-year-old right-hander threw so hard the other day, so electric, that catcher Rene Rivera had trouble even getting his mitt on the ball. The last pitch busted threw his webbing. If Felix keeps this up, considering the very solid middle-infield defense they have over there in Seattle, mugs are going to have a hard time getting on base against this cat. Manager Mike Hargrove: ”Felix is one of those guys that come along once in a blue moon…He’s special.” Cy Young special. Yup, it’s almost baseball season and I can’t wait. I live for this.
josh q. public. For the public, by The Public. Irreverent sports opinion from a Bostonian in New York. The one blog to read, when you’re reading more than one. Good to the last drop!
What’s the frequency Kenneth? I’ll tell you what the frequency is. Ken Griffey Jr. just hit his 569th career homer. That’s what the frequency is. He just moved into a tie for ninth place with Rafael Palmeiro. That’s what the frequency is. Just four back behind Harmon Killebrew. Fourteen back behind Mark McGwire. That’s what the frequency is. Griffey has been on a tear since the Red Legs moved him back into his accustomed third spot in the order. Since the Red Legs moved him back into his 
knocked down. But he got up again. You’re never going to keep him down. Throughout the nineties he was a beast. The high priest. The best from West to East. Junior was arguably the best player of the decade. Cashing that checkade. A one man wreckade. He produced runs. He hit for average. He hit over .300 in seven years of the ‘90s. He hit for power. It’s gettin’ it’s gettin’ it’s gettin’ kinda hectic. He’s got the power. He smashed 422 bombs during the decade. He was the best center fielder of the
decade. Gold Gloves from 1990 to 1999. Great range. Sick range. Home, home on the range. Where the deer and the antelope play. Diving plays. Spectacular plays. Say Hey Kid plays. Wheaties boxes. Knock off your sockses. Bagels and loxes. He was the man. He won games with his legs. Saving baseball in Seattle with his legs. You remember. You remember Game Five versus the Bombers. Series even at two apiece. Bottom of the 11th against the Bombers. Junior on first. Edgar with the hit. Hit it just a little bit. Hit it lickety split. There goes Griff. He…could…go…all…the…way. He does! He does! He scores from first base! Mariners win! Mariners win! Then he moved to Cincinnati. Then the injury bug hit. The injury bug hit hard. From 2001 through 2004, Junior was plagued by an endless string of injuries. Season-ending injuries. The injuries lowered his bat speed, lessened his power and curbed his home run production. He slugged only .426 before going down in 2002. His lowest output in seven years. He’s never been the same. A candle without a flame. The glory gone out of his game. But not so fast. He’s back. Back again. Griffey’s back. Tell a friend. Yup, Griffey’s back. Tell a friend. Tell ‘em the Public sent ya.
Jose Reyes makes infields jumpy. Maybe the best in baseball. Reigning two-time National League champ. Fresh off his first All-Star season. The first player in baseball history to have more than 63 steals, 120 runs, 192 hits and 19 homers in a single season. The first player since Marquis Grissom to exceed sixty steals in consecutive seasons. In his short time with the New York Mets, he already ranks fifth all time. Jose Reyes: the hand shaking, base taking, record breaking, stolen base king.
quick as a cat. Stealing second just like that. Getting down those base paths in no time flat. Rookie of the Year last year. Leading all rookies last year with fifty-one stolen bases. The first NL rookie to post 110-plus runs and 50-plus stolen bases in a season. The fifth big-league ball player since 1900 to hit 45-plus doubles and have 50-plus stolen bases. His future’s so bright, the fans call him Shadez. 
Carl Crawford makes folks jumpy. Former two-time American League champ. Get the papers, get the papers. Second leading base stealer over the last five years. Last year, he had three stolen bases in two straight games. Prior to Crawford, the last three players to steal at least three bases in consecutive games were Luis Castillo in 2000, Rickey Henderson in 1983, 1988 and 1993 and Amos Otis in 1975. Crawford became only the eighth player in history to get 200 stolen bases before his 25th birthday. On that same day, he also stole home. Jackie Robinson style. Last year, Carl Crawford became the first player to collect five hits and four stolen bases in a game since Rickey Henderson did it for the Yankees on April 11, 1988. Carl Crawford giving folks a reason to believe down in Tampa.
Ichiro make cats jumpy. Yes, the hitting machine. Making infielders as jumpy as a Mexican jumping bean. Stealing bases is part of his routine. Last year, Ichiro’s 33 consecutive stolen bases surpassed the American League record set by Willie Wilson in 1980. Last year, Ichiro stole 45 bases. Good enough for 3rd in the AL. Good enough for 7th in the Majors. Ichiro, good enough for me.
Felix Abraham Hernandez. King Felix. El Cartuela. The Badass. He throws heat. Scalding heat. Torrid heat. Smoking heat. Blistering heat. Flaming heat. Rapid Robert Feller heat. Nolan Ryan heat. JR Richard heat. Heat clocked at over 100 mph. At fourteen he was throwing ninety-four. Yowza! He throws a big ole bender. He throws a nasty change. He throws a slider so deadly, so disgusting, so filthy, so grotesque, so repugnant, so revolting, that the Mariners rarely allow him to use it out of concern that it might injure his arm. 
up in early August of 2005. Time to get it into gear. Long live the King, the King is here. At 19 years, 118 days, he was the youngest pitcher to appear in the major leagues since José Rijo came up with the Yankees back in 1984. His start has been lackluster at best. He’s been out of shape. It wasn’t until the midpoint of last season that we saw the real King. Pitching with zing. Back in full swing. In full swing hurling his first career shutout. In full swing hurling a five-hitter against the Angels that saw him burn through just 95 pitches. In full swing with a 2.93 strikeout-to-walk ratio, 176 Ks in 191 innings and a 2.39 groundball-fly ball ratio. 
pounds less than last year. So have no fear. The King will persevere. This will be his year. No more worrying about conditioning. Time to focus on the basics. The ABCs. Easy as one two three. Do re me. Time to focus on pitching. The 20-year-old right-hander threw so hard the other day, so electric, that catcher Rene Rivera had trouble even getting his mitt on the ball. The last pitch busted threw his webbing. If Felix keeps this up, considering the very solid middle-infield defense they have over there in Seattle, mugs are going to have a hard time getting on base against this cat. Manager Mike Hargrove: ”Felix is one of those guys that come along once in a blue moon…He’s special.” Cy Young special. Yup, it’s almost baseball season and I can’t wait. I live for this.
