Usually I’m a bit of a grouch during this time of year. Football is so very far away and college basketball is about to come to an end. But this year I’m looking forward to the beginning of the baseball season. I guess following a team will do that to ya (despite soft-core porn being filmed in Comerica, I’m still going to follow the Tigers). And to celebrate the opening day (yes, I know about Boston and Oakland starting the season in Japan. Good for them) here are some of your opening day starters. My newfound Detroit bias requires me to show Justin Verlander first.
A phenomenon known as “base-ball” has been making headlines around these parts since the inception of the site. The alleged “National League Championship Series” is upon us…time to pick a side or go home. In the red corner: TheStarterWife and Clare, freestylin’ for the Diamondbacks. In the purple corner: Lady Andrea, Metschick, and surprise special guest star tap the Rockies, if you know what I mean. (Don’t feel bad. There is no force in the universe that could have stopped me from making that joke.)
Leading off, the lovely TSW, with her plea for the boys of Arizona:
Why does Stephen Drew smile, other than the fact he is the talented Drew brother? Fucking hit .500 against the Cubbies with two homes and four RBIs, that’s why.
When I was in the eighth grade, my family took a trip to Baltimore which I was, honestly, not looking forward to. It was one of those vacations disguised as a learning experience which, when you’re a kid, is the only thing more disappointing than watching a cartoon and realizing that there is a thinly-veiled religious message and that the talking zucchini may, in fact, be Jesus. My parents selected Baltimore as our destination because it is a city rich in American history, literature, and homicide. Actually, the latter was less a selling point and more an excuse to make me wear one of those child leashes in the rare case that there was an unhinged individual in our Fort McHenry tour group who would’ve flown into a rage at the sight of my crimped hair and pleated Duckhead shorts.
The early highlight of the trip was when the waiter at one restaurant gave me a theatrical wink and handed me a brochure for the aquarium. He’d written his name and phone number in black Sharpie on the shell of a sea turtle, undaunted by the fact that I was thirteen and on a leash. (Note to self: Start wearing leash again). On the last day, perhaps tired of stepping over chalk outlines or trying to delicately explain why I couldn’t have an “I Got Crabs in Maryland” t-shirt, my dad suggested that we go to an Orioles game.
I was totally unprepared for the hotness roaming the outfield that year, the hotness that was Brady Anderson. Those sideburns. Those biceps. The lack of tuberculosis (which made him infinitely more attractive than my previous Baltimore crush–Edgar Allen Poe–who admittedly should’ve been less desirable since he potentially had rabies. Oh, and was dead). Anyway, that day I fell hard for Brady, a man so hot he made my braces sweat. After the game, I immediately bought a #9 t-shirt and couldn’t wait to write “Dr. & Mrs. Brady Anderson” on my Trapper Keeper, because I was sure that he would attend classes at night and eventually become the best-hitting neurosurgeon in his practice group. Continue reading →
Only one more day before Chutley makes his long-awaited return to the big club! My friend Sue and I will be at tomorrow’s game, and I have a feeling the atmosphere at the CBP will be like Christmas, the Fourth of July and the last time everyone in attendance got laid all rolled into one.
To whet your appetite for tomorrow, here’s an itty-bitty Chase Utley in his Scranton Red Barons days yukking it up with Freddie Mitchell, his teammate from UCLA. The Pop-Up Video aspect of the clip is great, along with the cameos from Marlon Byrd and Brett Myers, to say nothing of FredEx’s guns.
When I was younger my father’s job transferred him to their offices in Plano, Texas. At the time (around age 13,14) I wanted to stay in South Carolina and be with my friends and family, etc.
I was such a fool.
There are many beautiful things of the male species that comes out of that great state. And I was an idiot to want to stay here. Don’t get me wrong, South Carolina is nice. But have you seen the ass that comes out of Texas with every team? It’s unfair. It is so unfair.
And while the Texas Rangers aren’t a team full of literal home grown talent, they still serve up some hottie goodness to the baseball world.
(Yes, I know Mark Teixeira doesn’t play for the Rangers anymore. But I’ve already done the Braves and he’s too hot to leave out of these “Bringing the Heat” posts. Plus he looked damn good in that uniform.)
As the trade deadline nears, the Ladies… are forced to contemplate that tough question that crops up this time each year: what will happen to all the hotties?
So we’re stepping into the shoes of Theo Epstein for the day (naturally, since he’s the hottest GM in the major leagues), and assigning a market value to the hottest ballplayers rumored to be up on the block– based solely on just how smokin’ they are. A cadre of the Ladies… (five to be exact, enough to fill a front office for an All-Hot Team) put the candidates through a rigorous evaluation process, and submitted their valuations- in dollar signs- of the hottest possibilities. After some difficult and lengthy calculations, we’re sharing our scouting report ranking their hottie value.
It’s a hot, hot market out there, and we’re not afraid to spend a pretty penny on a pretty boy. But just how much are each of these ballplayers worth?
So what if the Giants is one of the oldest teams in baseball. That doesn’t mean that there are not hotties on the roster. Of course everyone on this list except for one hitter was born after 1975, which makes them younger than 30. But that doesn’t mean there are no hot 40 year olds.
Just not on this list. So to get things started, let’s just throw up the obvious first.
A hot ass smudged with dirt from a great slide? Yes, please!
And now we’re moving on to the single digits- the next five finest baseball asses around in our countdown on the way to the greatest butt of them all… the baseball bootie to end all booties. Follow me after the jump for #10-6…
As you’ve probably guessed by now, Ladies… Texas Gal and Clare are quite the Phillies Phans. Unfortunately, they’re separated by 750 miles and a change of time zones. How do they remedy this problem? For what we hope will be the first in a series of Two Homers Discuss… pieces, they fire up their IM programs of choice, chat away and save the results FOR YR LOLZ AND ENJOYMENTZ.
Texas Gal: I’M TIRED OF THESE MOTHER HUBBARD METS IN THIS MOTHER HUBBARD DIVISION
Clare: HI TEX IT’S CL
Texas Gal: WHY DON’T THEY GROW THE FUDGE UP
Texas Gal: PARDON MY FRENCH
Texas Gal: THIS IS WH
Texas Gal: THIS IS WH
Texas Gal: THIS IS WHY I’M HOT
The latest edition of Bringing the Heat takes us to the left coast with the Anaheim Angels*. And I must say that I’m disappointed in them. There are no real hotties on the team. Sure there are some cute guys, but no smoking hot pieces of ass that you want to spank. Maybe Bill Stoneman need to take a cue from his counterpart up in Oakland and learn to draft some good hot players.
Despite that, the Angels are already in control of the AL West, with a 5 ½ game lead on Seattle, 6 ½ lead on Oakland, and a 16 game lead over Texas. Oakland is a notorious second-half team, but I wouldn’t blame anyone if they called this division done for. And with that said, on to the cuties from Anaheim.
*I refuse to call them that fucked up name their owner gave them.
Compiling a list of the 25 hottest asses in baseball is harder than it would seem- because, as I quickly learned, every single ballclub has lots of great looking butts… and at least one or two spectacular ones. Some guys help their cause by wearing appropriately close-fitting pants (#1 on the list is a master at this technique) and wearing those pants in the flattering high-cuffed fashion (#3 does this gloriously). But in the end, it’s the ass that matters- no matter what team he’s on or what kind of pants he’s wearing (though I’d urge them all to follow the example of #1 and #3 if they want a little help in the rankings next year).
Previously, on Hot Baseball Butts: Mickey Mantle Award Part 1: #25-21. I’m pretty sure The Mick would be proud to learn that an award for the juiciest baseball behind is named after him. It’s only right and fair to honor him, considering he was a pioneer in the “Beautiful Baseball Boy” department.
And continuing on our journey along the dazzling array of assets conveniently located inside a pair of tight baseball pants on major league diamonds around the country… this time we’re tucking in to #20-16, after the jump…
The Gold Glove celebrates superior fielding. The Silver Slugger recognizes outstanding offense. The Cy Young honors the highest caliber pitching. All distinguished awards, with rich histories and illustrious lists of past winners. But no one has stepped up to honor the real “most valuable” asset in all of baseball: the sweet baseball player asses showcased by those lovely baseball pants.
I’m here to fill that void, with a countdown of the 25 hottest asses in baseball. The butt that tops the list at #1 earns the inaugural Mickey Mantle Award, representing the finest ass to be found inside a pair of major league baseball pants.
First up: #25-21 on the list. We’ll ogle our way through all 25 on the countdown, 5 at a time (ahem). Let’s take a dip into the shallow end of the pool…
OK, I don’t have a clever introduction. I went to a Widespread Panic concert over the weekend and since then I’ve done nothing but lay facedown on the sofa, trying to force my red eyes to focus on another “Press Your Luck” rerun on the Game Show Network. Yeah. I admit it. Halfway through “Disco”, a man named Pegasus gave me what I’d been trying to score all night: some fucking Claritin. After dancing around in a field for five hours, I left the show with wicked allergies, an Oxfam sticker, and a newfound loathing for songs that last longer than most of my relationships.
That said, today we’re studying the Dodgers who may lead the majors in wins, but aren’t exactly frontrunners in hotness. I went deep into the archives trying to find the tastiest treats to wear Dodger blue. Here goes. No whammies, no whammies.
Steve Garvey First base, 1969-1982
You can purchase this and other Steve Garvey pictures from a company called Mounted Memories. I believe there are several women who already have Steve’s Mounted Memories. They’re called children.
When we here at Ladies… decide we would do a feature on all 32 Major League teams, I jokingly said that for the Atlanta Braves one I could just post 10 pictures of Jeff Francoeur’s ass and call it a day. Little did I know that I could literally do that. There are many a picture of Mr. Francoeur’s ass, all that I enjoyed immensely. And it’s not like Atlanta is coming up big in the hotties category anyway. Would you, loyal reader of Ladies…, complain if 10 pics of Francoeur’s ass came after the jump? Continue reading →