Welcome to the MLB Star Power Index -- a weekly undertaking that determines with awful authority which players are dominating the current zeitgeist of the sport, at least according to the narrow perceptions of this miserable scribe. While one's presence on this list is often celebratory in nature, it can also be for purposes of lamentation or ridicule. The players listed are in no particular order, just like the phone book.
Corn is widely and rightly known as the Vegetable that Saved the Western Hemisphere. In addition to keeping the Framers out of ketosis so that they had the energy to write the Magna Carta, delicious rolling-plains corn also allows us as a people to get ample nutrition while huffing 10% ethanol gasoline from an emptied milk carton behind the KwikTrip. Popcorn, Windex, Crayons, and moonshine -- i.e., every good and proper grocery list? They're all sourced from This, Our Corn.
This brings us to the recent Field of Dreams Game, in which the Yankees were hog-tied with cornsilk and beaten with hard cobs by the White Sox. Corn was of course central to the backdrop of the entire thing, and this wasn't lost on Chicago moundsman and denizen of corn-deficient Australia Liam Hendriks. Regard his corn wonderment:
Hendriks : "Am I allowed to touch the corn in the bullpen?"
— Scott Merkin (@scottmerkin) August 12, 2021
Appreciate the doe-eyed innocence underpinning his question. So enraptured by the glimpse of corn was Mr. Hendriks that he momentarily forgot that forgiveness is less elusive than permission. Touch the corn, Liam Hendriks. Touch the corn like no one is watching even though they are. Then in your retirement years back in Perth open a petting zoo for exotic foods. "May I touch the hamburger?" asks the future young patron in full thrall to that which he has witnessed at Liam Hendriks' Big Best Food-Touching Barn.
"Aye," says Liam Hendriks. "For there is no other reason to be here."
And then:
And now back to the present day:
Liam Hendriks on walking through the corn: “a unique smell I didn’t quite anticipate”
— Chelsea Janes (@chelsea_janes) August 12, 2021
This is understandable. If one is not familiar with corn, then one is necessarily virgin to the aromas of ideal nutrition and the promise of the consummate side dish found in the Swanson Hungry Man family of products. Not even the Union itself is more perfect than the mouthfeel and deep-tissue massage performed upon one's taste buds when a few golden niblets steal across the county line of corrugated food-grade aluminum and claim-jump a spot on the last bite of Salisbury steak.
That heavyweight-championship implication, Liam Hendriks, is what you're smelling.
Let us note that shortly thereafter he entered the loving arms of the Heartland's leading cash crop, Hendriks allowed four runs in a mere inning of work. Yes, he was rescued by White Sox God of War and or Corn Tim Anderson, but the fact remains that Hendriks was heavily nonplussed by the dominating presence of corn. Also playing an incontestable role in Mr. Hendriks' failures in the Iowa gloaming was corn's dominion over atmospheric conditions:
"corn-driven humidity" pic.twitter.com/CwjCVvpARI
— Brian Hoffman (@b_hoffman11) August 13, 2021
This is a Yankees-centered complaint about the offense-boosting effects of humidity and the corn whence it came, but this also applies to Hendriks' largely failed efforts west of the Mississippi and east of the Missouri -- i.e., where corn is sheriff, forever running unopposed.
So, yes, Liam Hendriks, if you are pure of heart and have had your three daily ramekin-fuls of high-fructose corn syrup, then you may touch the corn. You shall smell it regardless of your druthers.
It's high time we honored Cincinnati cloutsman Nick Castellanos in this space. Nicky Bedlam has established himself as an accomplished author of misrule within the game this season, and we're here to take note, albeit belatedly. Consider his admirable dossier:
- He touched off a near-brawl with the Cardinals by assuming a provocative buffalo stance above opposing tosser Jake Woodford.
- He cast righteous aspersion upon commissioner Rob Manfred all while maintaining plausible deniability.
- He decided he had earned a walk despite being called out on strikes.
- He mocked Hansel Robles' attempts at timing disruption after doubling off of him.
These serialized triumphs lead us to Mr. Castellanos' most recent work of disruptive art. Please enjoy as he manages to get ejected in the first inning of a recent game in Philly, where only rude eagles dare:
Let's emphasize that this bum's rush happened in the top of he first, so Castellanos managed to anger jurisdictional authorities to the point of no return in, oh, 90 seconds or thereabouts. This is worth praise and emulation, both without ceasing.
As you can see by the plate ump's weak-hearted ejection, he knows he's making a mistake. He knows he's depriving This, Our Baseball of This, Our Nicholas Ruckus, and he knows that's beyond this and every pale. Still, Castellanos presumably used one or more of the gravest possible obscenities (i.e., "thaspus," "yicketty," "doobler," and or "satchputch"), and that's more than any baseball peacekeeper can abide.
For Castellanos, the consolation is that the only thing better than an honest day's work is anything other than an honest day's work.
