Beyond the obvious broad comedy inherent in the words fuming baseball purists, one of the more amusing aspects of Harold Baines’s otherwise inexplicable selection to the Baseball Hall of Fame this week has been the sheer volume of discourse devoted to Harold Fucking Baines across various platforms. Even when Harold Baines was reliably producing runs for middling-to-poor Chicago White Sox teams two decades ago, he didn’t make for a great topic of conversation and was not the sort of player whose skills or personality lent themselves to vigorous discussion. In a Remembering Some Guys context, Baines is a Guy among Guys; as a baseball player, he does not belong in a debate about the Hall of Fame any more than do, say, Guys like Chet Lemon and Torii Hunter and Jim Edmonds. But, in the interest of being a part of the problem instead of part of the solution and for the basic joy of Remembering Guys, Deadcaster emeritus Tim Marchman and I gave pride of place in this week’s Deadcast to The Harold Baines Question. Honestly there’s a chance we might have just done this anyway, so it’s probably good that we at least had an excuse.
This was not all, of course. We also addressed the psychedelic implosion of the Chicago Bulls in particular and the mystery of the unfireable bad sports exec more generally, and pulled some prize chunks of brain garbage from the Funbag. It is a testament to you, the listeners—and more specifically to those of you, the listeners, who send us Funbag questions—that this week’s Funbag burped up questions about both where Steven Seagal lands on the complete spectrum of working actors and what Donald Trump imagines his suit size to be. We are, as ever, in your debt.
We talked about Drew a little bit, too, of course, although you won’t learn much beyond what’s in here and that both of us love him a lot and are anxious for his return. You probably already knew that part, though.
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