Posts Tagged ‘Alexei Ramirez’

Ed. Note- Thanks to Shelley Holmgren for submitting this with the very apt headline, Shit Bitches Shouldn’t Wear At A Baseball Game. We at Cad T. Wasp notoriously hate pink jerseys (that aren’t for breast cancer awareness), but Shelley details proper female fan wear etiquette in more detail.

by: Shelley Holmgren

Baseball season is a sacred, holy time. I choose to observe it with the holiest of rituals: drinking excessively and going to ball games. However, there are times when I have to swig my drink ferociously in order to stomach some of the shit I see women wear to a game.

As a (mostly) logical woman and faithful baseball fan, I decided to educate other estrogen-prone creatures of ways they shouldn’t show up to a game or face the wrath of my stink eye.

1) Save the stilettos for your walk of shame, sister.

It blows my mind that I actually have to say this. Ladies. Don’t wear your damn heels to the game.

If you are like me, you plan on ingesting a fair amount (understatement) of ale while cheering on your guys. After that fourth beer, that flight of stairs will look more like Mt. Doom than a few short steps. You definitely don’t want to scale it wearing four-inch heels/devices of torture.

Although drinking several vodka lemonades will help you loose all sensation in your face, you will need a horse tranquilizer to numb the pain in your feet from wearing heels for nine innings.

I’m not saying don’t be feminine. You may be attending the game on a date and might want to get your male seduction on. Fight the urge to
wear a leather catsuit (save them for special occasions, like bar mitzvahs) or a ball gown or whatever ridiculous outfit you wear to prepare for a sexy time. My advice – just go casual. The best route to go is fitted player t-shirt and a pair of tight jeans that make your ass look like Beyonce’s. The jeans will do all the work for you and your date will reward you with various forms of physical contact and cheap beer. Let the romance begin.

2) Handle cleavage with care.

Don’t get me wrong – as a well-endowed woman, I know how much joy there is in displaying your assets like prized hams. Boobs are magnificent and should be shared. But know your limits when it comes to breast exposure at sporting events. I’m at the game to watch my guys kick ass, not to place bets on the probability of one your loose mammary glands slapping your date in the face.

But then again, what do I know? I’m just a girl that likes to whip out her sweater melons only for special occasions or when I owe a member of the male population an apology/money. If you want to wear an insanely low-cut shirt, have at it. Make sure to wave to your parents (and the parents of the young niños in the crowd) when you are featured on the jumbo screen. You’ll make them so proud. I’ll just be the woman sitting next to you, embarrassed to have ovaries.

This is a ball game. Not an audition for Bravo.

3) Remember, people spill shit.

Don’t show up wearing a 80-billion-thread-count silky blousey-thing and not expect it to get it stained. If Alexei Ramírez steals third, you will likely be sitting by someone who celebrates with a dance similar to an exorcism being performed. You’re not going to want to be wearing expensive threads when someone knocks into you and obliterates you with concessions. And trust me, that shit ain’t going to come out.

Also remember: If you are a true classy woman like I am, you plan on making sweet, tender love to a fully-loaded ball park brat with your mouth. There is no way to consume delicious smoked meats without there being some wardrobe casualties. It’s not worth it otherwise.

4) Know your player.

If I show up in a Sox game clad in my Pierzynski jersey, I’m going to be able to tell you his position, his stats, his batting preference, his sexual preference (OK, maybe too far … probably … nah). Regardless of A.J.’s impending restraining order against me, he is my guy. Don’t show up to a game wearing a jersey for a player you know nothing about. Show some respect, yo.

5) Respect the game.

This is just a nugget of general knowledge – don’t be on your damn smart phone the whole time. Going to a game is a sacred act. If I see you playing DrawSomething through a double-play, I will slap the phone out of your hand. Probably. If I didn’t cherish my beer so much, I’d possibly try to spill my drink on you at least. (I swear, I’m usually not a belligerent drunk.)

And one last piece of fashion advice: You will never be taken as a serious fan, let alone a serious human being, if you wear a tube top.

Have some self-respect.

Ed. Note - I uhh, respectfully disagree. More tube tops at ball games!

“People see dark faces out there, and the perception is that they’re African American. They’re not us. They’re impostors”

-Torii Hunter

by: Mauricio Rubio Jr.
twitter: @MRubio52 

Note: This article is the start of something, the history of the Afro-Latino in baseball cannot be summed up in one blog post or even a series of blog posts. It began as a simple email response and it has grown into an ongoing project whose end date I’m not sure of. This is a snippet.

It’s pretty clear that people just don’t know what to do with Latinos. In the Trayvon Martin case Zimmerman was labeled a minority by some because he has Spanish roots, thus making him Mexican or something. The Ozzie Guillen story provided an interesting chance for Latinos to have a serious conversation about race and hate within the community, instead we got an overreaction to the suspension with no real discussion on why what he said stung so much. One of the more surprising aspects of this controversy was the lack of cultural awareness when it comes to Hispanics. People genuinely did not know that Castro is seen as a tyrannical despot on the level of Hitler with the Cuban community. The caricature was the only impression people had of him and were shocked that Ozzie’s comments cut so deep.

The inspiration from this commentary, however, came from a nugget of information that Dan Bernstein gave us 2 weeks ago. The Chicago Cubs are currently shopping most of their big league roster, and it’s been speculated for months that Marlon Byrd will be traded. Should he find a new home between now and April 15, Jackie Robinson day, Chicago will have no African-American representative on #42’s day. That is a rather interesting piece of information, and I don’t have much issue with it. A caller brought up the name Alex Rios, who was born in Alabama and is considered Puerto-Rican-American.

And that’s what really got me thinking about what Jackie Robinson day means. For the purposes of his point, I can somewhat see where Mr. Bernstein was coming from, he dismissed Rios as a Latin born player and not African American in the typical sense of the term. However, I think this is a classic example of the media, and the world in general, having no idea what to do with Afro-Latinos. Torii Hunter’s quote above illustrates that point as well. Afro-Latinos are not properly represented nor are they accounted for in America.

The implication that Mr. Bernstein was making is that Afro-Latinos shouldn’t count as proper representatives for Jackie Robinson Day. That’s a dangerous implication to make and I think it’s one that a lot of people make. The inverse of this is also dangerous however, to consider Alex Rios as simply black without considering what his heritage and his lineage is. The point of Jackie Robinson day is to celebrate the tearing down of the color barrier. That’s a broad term, color, and it’s one that’s classically been assigned to African-Americans throughout history, with a good reason. It was the label that an oppressive white society put on blacks to strip away their sense of worth. But color is a defined differently today as it applies to a broader population.

The truth is that the gentleman’s agreement about “colored” players extended beyond just the African-American players. If you sent Alfonso Soriano, Starlin Castro, Marlon Byrd, Alex Rios, Carlos Marmol, Dayan Viciedo, Alexei Ramirez, Hector Santiago, and even Geo Soto back into a time machine set for the 30’s, not a one is playing in the Majors. They would all be New York Cubans.

The history of the New York Cubans is muddled, which is common for a Negro League team. For the purposes of this column, understand that they were a Negro League team comprised of mostly Afro-Latinos, but occasionally they took on lighter skinned Latinos because MLB didn’t want anything to do with people of color. They began in 1899 as the All Cubans, became the Cuban Stars in 1907, folded in the late 20’s and were recreated by a former member of the Cuban Stars, Alex Pompez, in 1930. If that name rings a bell White Sox fans, it’s because he scouted Minnie Minoso and brought him over from Cuba to play ball in the US.

The New York Cubans employed players of color that were not allowed to play in the Majors. These were not strictly African American players that fit neatly into a small category. The NY Cubans took on all that were of color and shunned by MLB, until Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier and opened the door to all people of color, not just American born Blacks. The Negro Leagues were where Minnie Minoso got his start in professional baseball.

On April 15, 1947, Jackie Robinson was 0/3 with a RS, but on that day he began the process that cemented himself as arguably the most important player in baseball history. In the wake of integration  we had Ernie Banks, Billy Williams, Willie Mays, Hank Aaron, Jackie Robinson, Roy Campanella, Don Newcombe, and Minnie Minoso. That’s a lot of talent that MLB was ignoring before Jackie. A date that should be similarly remembered is May 1, 1951.

The “Cuban Comet” paved the way for Latino players, but is remembered by the White Sox as being their first black player in the post Jackie Robinson era. On May 1, Minnie paved the way for Latino players to enter the Majors, which of course came at the price of discrimination, racism, and untold stress and heartache. Reporters rather famously phonetically spelled his quotes in print, he was called all sorts of names everywhere he went, and he had to use the “Coloreds Only” stalls as well.

It’s irresponsible to dismiss Afro Latinos because they aren’t the “right kind of black.” I think it’s about time to have a serious discussion about race in America, one that centers around Hispanics. The race issue is alive and well in America, it’s disguised as other things and somewhat hidden, but we Hispanics have a lot of issues to resolve with ourselves. There’s an alarming trend of self hate and lost identity within our community. Ozzie’s insensitive comments confront us with an uncomfortable reality that we aren’t as unified as we’d like to think sometimes. I’m guilty of talking shit to Puerto Ricans, and I’m sure most Hispanics have similar stories. We’ve come a long way since Minnie, but we still have a long way to go. Our story is frequently misunderstood in America, let’s work on that.


Posted: February 6, 2012 by Mauricio Rubio Jr. in Podcast
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In this episode, we forget football ever happened, we review Soxfest, interview Alexei Ramirez and Dayan Viciedo, review a great Chicago brew (not Ronnie Brewer), discuss a lot of baseball, and reveal our favorite sports books of all time.