Go over to Brooklyn Met Fan if you don’t already (what the hell is wrong with you?!) and vote for “The Hottest Met 2009.” I voted Murphy, even though it’s probably David Wright. Santana at #3, bringing up the rear. GET IT?
What an image…brb.
1. The Amanda Bynes/LOTR answers = HOLY FUCK, I forget how young he is.
2. What a cocky sonuvabitch.
3. He clearly comes from the Andre Bazin school of film criticism.
4. I need to make him a mixtape.
This is the second in what was supposed to be a series highlighting exceptional play and unbearable cuteness from the most unlikely of places, but after that first one it all went downhill for the Mets last year. In both matters, really. The last half of 2007 was full of spotty play at best, and was certainly not that cute.
But huzzah! We have found a new inspiration, a new love in our lives. Matt Cerrone calls him his favorite player. As did BMF. Greg Prince labeled him “Dandy,” which is high praise indeed, considering the source. And Joe Janish has made a shirt in his honor, which I will probably have to buy. It’s only been a week and rookie Daniel Murphy has captured Mets fans with his play, which reminds me of a bulldog, somehow. His leaps against walls to take away extra-base hits! His tenacious at-bats, which always seem to go deep in the count. And of course his pinch-hit two-run homer which proved to be the difference maker in Saturday’s game, compelling the entirety of Shea to beg for a curtain call. And Murphy, with the egging on of Carlos Delgado, no less, obliged.
Daniel Murphy, who in a measly 23 at-bats is batting .478 and has a .571 OBP. This won’t continue, certainly, but there’s something about his approach at the plate–a “general air of fearlessness,” says Jason Fry–that makes me believe he’s going to be a valuable hitter for some time. He’s the kind of player that ignites passion merely because he plays with same, in a disciplined, focused, non-flashy kind of way. A real blue-collar hard-nosed worker. Someone baseball fans will always appreciate.
And he seems like a nice young man to boot. Being interviewed by Eddie Coleman after Saturday’s game, Murphy said (in his deep deep voice, swoon), “You can’t say enough about ___________” maybe four or five times. About his teammates, the hitting, the organization, the pitching, about Beltran quietly taking him under his wing. Maybe he’s getting his media coaching from David Wright. Move over Davey boy, there’s a new heartthrob in town.
According to Adam Rubin, Mike Pelfrey has been named the NL Player of the Week.
His maturation has been something to behold. What a stud.
Last night I missed going to the SNY viewing party at the Village Pourhouse (in turn missing out on meeting a boy on whom I have the most incomprehensible crush, a boy who will go nameless, but he’s got Kennedy hair and I’m not made of stone, guys) due to general malaise and weird mental things and stress and whatnot, so I decided to cook for two hours and then listen to the game. Good game! Etc. Hooray win. They’ll probably lose tonight. That’s what .500 teams do, right?
But mainly I’ve been distracted because of Wimbledon. Yes, still! It’s almost over, promise. I realized something about today’s matches though: back in January, when Maria Sharapova defeated Ana Ivanovic in the Australian Open final, drooling males who couldn’t give two shits about the sport were deeming it the “hottest match ever.” I find Ivanovic totally adorable and Sharapova completely overrated (have you seen her face? She looks like a lizard. But she’s blonde, so there you go American standard of beauty), but they probably had a point.
WELL. Considering this blog, it’s time to turn the tables and objectify some men, as today features the hottest ever quarterfinal matchup, though you wouldn’t know it judging by media coverage (save for always-reliable tennis.com, which deemed the match “the GQ special.” Well done).
Here we have Feliciano Lopez, who kind of looks like a male Gabriela Sabatini (in my mind the most beautiful woman to play the sport):
What’s with the beefcake shot though? He looks like he should be on the cover of a romance novel. (Also here’s an, ahem, NSFW image)
And opposing him, beautiful talent-wasting headcase Marat Safin:
Marat kinda looks like an ex’s brother here. Sigh.
I promise actual substance TK.