Cleveland Sports Insiders

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Deluded Ralph Wonders What Happened to Johnny Puritan

It boggles comprehension how far from favor quillmanship has fallen. Once upon a Freer America, skill with the quill was the mark of a refined gentleman, and ‘beautiful prose’ once entailed aesthetics in the writing. Nowadays, in today’s frivolous insta-Frappucappucino, I-Want-It-All (and I want it now!), Heisenberg’s Uncertain Principles world, any meandering dullard can push out a thousand words with a BIC. Gone are the days when a fountain pen’s artisan keystrokes festooned a blog. I – I alone! – fight the terrible and necessary fight against eroding morals, striking each key not with ball-point hedonism but with the measured care of the fountain pen.

Yet my struggle is one not only of means but of ends; namely, I find myself deeply concerned with the lapsus virtus of a certain Johannes Futenball and the printing press of sin known as this same man’s Instant Gram chronicle. Namely: Continue reading


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Deluded Ralph Individually Flips Each of His Shits About Kluber

Patience is a virtue instilled in each of us from a young age. From the outset, it is poured into us by parents (or in the case of Tarzan, benevolent gorillae) like waffle batter, and very much like waffle batter, it is surveilled thereafter to determine whether the batter of knowledge has blossomed into the waffles of patience.

And if patience is a waffle, I am IHOP: I, RalpHOP , begrudgingly serve patience, but I don’t openly advertise it, and moreover, I typically only converse with the intoxicated. Yea verily, I am presently impatient and conversing with the intoxicated as we speak – ‘we,’ of course, refers tautologically to the aformentioned drinkyfolk – ‘as we speak’ only incidentally occurs at the time of writing; this account’s writing, whimsically, happens to occur inside an International House of Panc#DIV/0!

Yet for Zion’s Eggnog Pancakes’ sake, I shall not be silent – and I sound the trumpets of Cincinnatus! Cleveland must be defended! Patience must be discarded like a former NCAA football player, and we must declare that the future of the Cleveland Indians’ rotation does not lie with Corey Kluber. Continue reading

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Deluded Ralph Concedes Dave Dombrowski the Tactical Victory

As I sat plainly at my desk (the desk of the High Minister of ‘High AF’ Ministries of the Republic of Sealand), I received an important telegram, conscientiously transcribed by my secretary dolphin, telling that Detroit Tigers Dave Dombrowski has executed a masterstroke of capitalist brilliance and signed Miguel Cabrera to a long-term deal that would catapult the former Miami Marlin into the forefront of the league’s plutocracy.

As a minister of Sealand, my concern is justified – not only is Miguel Cabrera’s extension several hundred million times the GDP of This Proud Island Nation, but he was once a Marlin: to see a Sealand expatriate, be he a Marlin or a Devil Ray, turn his back on his country extracts a single patriotic tear.

Nationalistic fervor stirred and subsequently shelved, it was clear that Dave Dombrowski was the architect of this new geopolitical superstructure that keeps Miguel Cabrera in Detroit through 2025 – and a cunning edifice it is. He has turned the league upon its head, using the forward-looking, innovation-stuffed strategy of using record contract extensions as spoils of past MVP awards. It’s ideal.

You see, the Cardinals congratulated themselves for not signing Albert Pujols to a ten-year contract despite his three MVP awards. If Dave Dombrowski had helmed the Spirit of St. Louis that fateful offseason, he would have steered that ship into a future anchored by Albert Pujols – not merely a ten-year deal, though. Given the 5:1 ratio Dombrowski has ingeniously manufactured, Pujols would have received a 15-year deal worth $360M.

Barry Bonds? With his 7 MVP awards, his 35-year-contract would have kept the ageless son of Darius the Great playing baseball until 2042, at an AAV of All The Gold In The Roman Emperor’s Treasury.

Dombrowski’s move is just the most recent in a string of shrewd moves to keep the Tigers at the top of the AL Central. Doug Fister – I’m sorry, how many MVPs has he won? Talk to me when he trades someone of value. Results are what matter here in Sealand; perhaps you Americans take a different approach to things. Given the criticism of the Fister trade, it seems that American GSM Gulfstream Media writers don’t care much about the bottom line.

With Dombrowski’s recent acquisition, I must now beat him to the punch. He’ll soon be going after another MVP, a proven hitter. I must sign Jason Giambi to a five-year, $150M deal before Dombrowski gets the chance. Stealing his next target before he has a chance to should serve as some poetic justice.

I must prepare contingency plans, however. If Giambi refuses his post as Executive Cabinet Minister of Orca Training, I should prepare to execute a trade with the Holy Gold’s Gym Empire. Since Giambi is a former Athletic, Gold’s Gym should be pleased to see one of its own heroes back in the fold.

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Deluded Ralph on Drafting For Need

There is one time of the year that, as a Browns fan, stands above all other times of the year. NFL draft time. Yes, the Draft is literally upon us. ‘Literally’ in the sense that I literally spilled a literal draft beer upon my own probably-literal self. Us, in the sense that my corporeal form is a somewhat voluntary host for the spirits of Gaius Julius Caesar (please don’t call him Caligula; it’s demeaning) and also Alexander the Great.

Like these two body invaders, I, as a Browns fan, greatly enjoy the NFL draft. There is no greater joy in this world – or any other world – than the prospect of dictating to 20-year-olds the course of the next three years of their life; if you were wondering, by the way, I do very much enjoy playing SimCity. I, Gaius Julius Caesar Alexander Magnus Ralph, shall build the world’s greatest SimCity empire, filled with prosperous high-density commercial zones, only to sneer at their lamentations when an earthquake rends earth from sky in the world they thought they had mastered. Hubris must be punished, vain Ralphopolis. I am your reckoning. Continue reading

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Deluded Ralph on the Luol Deng Trade and Business Sense

From childhood, I, Ralph-onse James de Rothschild, have always had a healthy respect for business sense. Regaled on my grand-uncle’s knee with epics of Cleveland oil baron John D. Rockefeller, the glory of business acumen was impressed upon me from when I was but a tender babe. ‘He rose from obscurity to business greatness,’ grand-uncle misted. ‘Get back to the mines,’ my grand-uncle continued – Wisdom that guides me to this day.

Yet while these tales molded me in youth, I have outgrown these fables and have acquired my own eye for big business – namely, I have a friend who owns a used video game store, I watched ‘The Wolf of Wall Street,’ and have played Roller Coaster Tycoon. So I feel uniquely qualified to commend the Cavaliers’ business savvy in trading for Luol Deng, since it gives the Cavs a better chance to make the playoffs, and if they make the Playoffs, LeBron will love us again and come back.

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Deluded Ralph Reflects on the 2013 Browns

Welp, it’s that time of year again, folks. The time where we look back on the 2013 regular season that was. Relive the 2013 and its Shakespearean mix of laughter and tears. It’s like how I laughed at the wacky hijinks of Duck Dynasty, only to realize that I also manufacture bird calls in the deep south and, though myself an aspiring aesthete robed in luxurious Italian camo, have not once been invited to talk with GQ. Weeping ensued, permanently staining my bemberg-lined fishing attire.

The first week of the playoffs have come and gone, and as most Browns fans expected at the beginning of the season, our Browns did not participate. I’ll say this – there was a stretch when I thought that our orange-clad defense would have us competing this past week, but given the state of our offense, that just wasn’t going to happen.

And was there any other possible outcome with that passing attack? The offense almost single-handedly kept us out of the wild-card round of the playoffs. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Browns’ offense ended up breaking some kind of record in 2013.

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