Dearest Readers,
I apologize for the lack of posting of late. There's a lot that's been going on, so I thought it was time for you all to catch up. First of all, I have been doing some writing for Barstool Sports NYC, a newly hatched branch of the wildly successful Barstool Sports. Definitely check it out - it's worth your time. I have been adding my bullshit opinion on the Yankees, but the content over there is gold.
Also, the First Lady and I are now engaged, so my time has been precious.
But fear not, The Balls is going to be back and as stroong as ever. I have a great interview coming up for dat ass, as well as the inevitable World Series run that the Yankees are going to put together. Keep checking out The Fowl Balls.

Jimmy Dugan
President, CEO, and Dictator
The Fowl Balls



My personal feelings about the coverage of the event aside, The Fowl Balls would like to extend our congratulations to Derek Jeter on passing Lou Gehrig on the Yankees all time hits list.



From SiriusXM:
Today (September 11, 2009) on SIRIUS XM’s Mad Dog Radio channel, host Gary Williams spoke with actor Matt Damon, who was on to promote his new movie, “The Informant,” and the charitable foundation he supports, “One X One.”

Williams: “Meanwhile, your Red Sox, they’re only about 19 games
back of the Yankees. Do they have anything for them in

Damon: “Yeah, of course, man. October comes and everybody is
0-0. All we need to do is back into the wild card and we’re fine.
We’re fine. Listen, New York, they’re going to collapse. They’re
still, I mean, nobody on that team has won a World Series in... I mean,
Jeter has but the rest of them…”

Williams: “Posada has, Pettitte has…”

Damon: “Nine years ago these guys won the World Series. They
got so smoked by the Red Sox in ’04, I mean, I’m telling you, man. They’ve
got the yips. They’re going to fold like a cheap suit. You watch,
man. You watch. If we make it into the playoffs, man, we’re taking
them down.”

These Hollywood morons continue to think that the world values their opinion. Also, I had no idea that Matt Damon was on the Red Sox. I love when people say "we" like they are on the fucking payroll. Hey, Matt, here's an idea; leave the witty sports analysis to me, and you can go back to adding to the pile of shitty movies that you have accumulated. If it weren't for Clooney and Pitt doing you a favor and putting you in the Ocean's trilogy, your career would be, well, Ben Affleck's (read: shit).

Life imitates art in a really bad way

I don't usually deviate from Yankee content, but this picture is from the Yankee game Wednesday night, and I just had to comment after seeing it.

In the wonderful world of make believe that is television, things can happen that are beyond the realm of comprehension. Nuns can fly, horses can talk, and a fat ass like Peter Griffin can score a piece like Lois. But in what I like to call the "real world" I like things to happen the way they are supposed to. When you see a nun, she is walking like everyone else; a dog's only means of communication is diving nose-deep into another dogs ass; and fat, ugly pricks like Jerry Ferrara DO NOT date Meadow fucking Soprano.

As a disclaimer, I date a smokeshow, but it is only fair given the boyish good looks and insatiable rear end that God himself reached down and bestowed upon me. This is the natural order of things. This is why I have the luxury, nay, the RIGHT to be irritated by this. Beautiful people should be with other beautiful people. Jerry Ferrara is slapping Charles Darwin in the mouth.

I liked Entourage for the first two or three seasons when it was a little more palatable - Vince hooked up with the 10's and guys like Turtle here were left with the table scraps. Aaahhh, reality. Then things went haywire and everybody started plowing through supermodels left and right. It was at this point that I deemed their reality too unrealistic, and stopped watching the show.

To that point, I am not really sure that I want to live in a world where Turtle dates Meadow. Please continue to check the blog, because if there isn't an update for a day or two I may have thrown myself in front of a train.


Apparently Derek Jeter did something

Last night Derek Jeter got his 2,721st hit, tying Lou Gehrig for the most in Yankees franchise history. Now, before I write this and get 234,567 emails about how I am a moron, I will preface by saying that I am, and always have been a huge Jeter fan.

But are we kidding here? The hit that Jeter got last night is no more important than any other in his career. When he breaks the record in the next few days, that won't mean anything either. By becoming the all-time hits leader for his franchise, Jeter is joining such all time greats as Tim Wallach, Ed Kranepool, and Tony Fernandez. I am sick and tired of the Four Ring fans ruining New York's good name. These are the same assholes that cheered every time Tino Martinez fielded a ground ball cleanly in 2005.

Derek Jeter is a first ballot Hall of Famer, and a proven world class cocksman. He has been the picture of class since he burst onto the scene fourteen years ago. This motherfucker is the Ashley Schaeffer of the baseball world. But I ask you all, please take a deep breathe and remove your heads from each other's asses. There will be plenty to cheer as Jeter passes real milestones at 3000, 3500, maybe even 4,000 hits. The fact that people are making his passing of Gehrig (a man whose career was cut short by disease and had 600 less at bats than Jeter thus far) is almost a slight to what Jeter has actually accomplished during his career.
The argument for Derek Jeter's greatness has always been that it "cannot be quantified by numbers". His intangibles have put him in a class all his own. Now that radio hosts and other assorted dickhead windbags are tying him to a (mildly impressive) number makes me want to punch a kitten in the face. It's time that New York sports fans start living up to their perceived high sports IQ.

And your magic number is now...


The Yankees continue to stick it up everyone's ass

From the New York Times -
FREE CANCER SCREENINGS The Yankees will open their gates an hour earlier Wednesday, at 3 p.m., when they will offer free prostate cancer screenings for any adult man attending the game. The screenings will take place all through the game at the first aid station behind Section 128 on the third-base side of the field level.
The effort is a partnership between the Yankees and Bat for the Cure, a charity sponsored by the longtime local radio host Ed Randall.

Thanks, but no thanks. I love the Yankees, but I'll be damned if I am getting my insides massaged in the parking lot outside the stadium.

And your magic number is now...

This is fun

Last night the Yankees won their 90th game in grand fashion, thanks to a walk-off home run from The Fowl Balls' man crush Nick Swisher.

This was a significant victory for a number of reasons. First and foremost, with this win, the Yankees eclipsed their win total of a year ago in just 140 games and put the Yankees forty games over .500 for the first time since 2006. It also improved the Yankees to a perfect 16-0 in games that are tied in the seventh inning or later.

The point is that this team knows how to win. Last night Chad Gaudin got the call to start, and was solid. In a tight game, the team was able to overcome a rare Phil Hughes slip-up to scratch out a victory. It's fun to watch a 15-14 slugfest, but the fact that the Yankees can win this type of game is what makes them dangerous. They hit. They pitch. They have improved their defense. They are the best team in baseball. For the first time since The Balls' inception, it feels like there is something special to write about. It's not about who Derek Jeter is banging, or what A-Rod will do next to prove that he is retarded. It's about baseball, winning, and enjoying what has been one hell of a summer.


The natural order of things

The sun rises in the east, The sky is blue, Lindsey Lohan will blow you for a handful of nickels, and the Orioles are terrible.

There are some things that just are, and we don't question them. Take last night for example. The O's hold steady in a tight 3-1 ballgame into the eight, and rookie Nolan Reimold hits a solo home run off of Brian Bruney (at least it wasn't Phil Coke this time). 3-2. Then, in the blink of an eye, God woke up and realized "oh, wait! The Orioles are fucking awful!" and the Yankees proceeded to put up 7 runs in the top of the ninth without the aid of a single home run. Now, thats more like it.

Even with the 10 run explosion, the story of the night is CC Sabathia. Another stellar, late-season outing by Fat Albert that we as baseball fans have become so accustomed to. Carsten gave the Yanks seven innings yielding seven hits and only one run. From the third inning on he was basically untouchable.

After the last few years, being a Yankee fan was starting to feel like being a Jet fan. Sure the Yankees always win, but the inevitablility of the team failing in the playoffs (and last season before hand) was a black cloud over the season, and this season had that kind of feel to it. The team was aging with the likes of Jorge Posada, Andy Pettitte, and Johnny Damon all expected to be contributors. Derek Jeter had been increasingly embarassing on defense, and both A-Rod and Mo were coming off major surgeries. Though, oddly enough, this potential recipe for disaster has been the fuel behind what has become the undisputed best team in baseball right now.

We all know that this team is playing loose, fast, and on the edge of out of control; one injury could watch the entire season go down faster than Andy Dick on the set of High School Musical. But for right now, this is fun to watch.


They should just contract this team already

The Mets' season of embarrassment reached new heights last night. In what should have been a triumphant return to the diamond for David Wright following a horrific head injury, the team saw fit to put him in a Great Gazoo helmet.
This is just awful. I agree that the brain is important: it is the governing body which rules our entire human existence. But if they told me I could either wear this helmet on national television or die, some serious fucking pondering would be in order.
(photo jacked from Barstool Sports NYC - but since I put this in italics it looks official and they won't do shit)


Missed it by that much

...and Andy Pettitte continues to drop a Cleveland steamer on the chest of The Fowl Balls - and we are loving it.