David Raposa: So did you see my public plea to read Frank Deford's abominable plan to destroy baseball?

David Roth: I feel for him. I like Frank Deford as an idea, and sometimes as a writer. I will always ride for an old sportswriter who rocks elbow-patch blazers and acts like someone who rocks elbow-patch blazers. There will not be more like him. It's not like Gregg Doyel is ever going to lose the TapouT tees and Thousand Island-magnet facial hairs and somehow age into class. So it's a drag to see Old Frank trolling.

David Raposa: Even with the well-maintained moustache, pomade, and monogrammed cigarette case, he's [...]

David Roth: I've been on vacation in a place without TV and alarmingly rich in Phillies fans. But I wanted to clear something up with you in re: Yadier Molina's Crazy Eyes Killer routine with that ump.

David Raposa: Thank you for reminding me to witness that bit of TV history (before MLB brings the Sledge-O-Matic down on YouTubers). What is your question, esteemed colleague?

David Roth: Do you think that, since he got that neck tattoo, Yadier feels like he needs to act tough? Like step out of Bengie's shadow, not be known as The Molina Who Can't Eat All That Many Pancakes?

David Raposa: I thought [...]

David Raposa is off this week, but Yakkin' About Baseball will return in its usual format next Friday. In the meantime, I’m offering an exclusive (if admittedly a bit self-promoting) look at a pet project of mine that's snowballed into something of an obsession. For the past seven years, I've been working on a still-untitled book project that has entailed visiting—and eating at—every Major League ballpark. The idea was to provide an overview of the concessions (culinary, ethical, otherwise) of Our American Pastime, but it has become something else entirely.

What was originally intended as a mass-market coffee table book has become something much more ambitious—a cross between a [...]

David Roth: Did you just see the ad for the prescription trigylceride medication with the line "side effects include burping?" Oh no, you didn't, it was on the Mets game. You're not watching the Mets game. You are so smart.

David Raposa: I thought gas was a natural Mets by-product

David Roth: Side effects of watching the Mets include sob-burping (or sobburping) as well as misery-bloat, teary eyes, perineal fenestration and perforated headaches.

David Raposa: Goddamn that Carlos Beltran.

David Roth: He's only 65 to 70 percent as ridiculously over-blamed as he used to be.

David Raposa: He should try to hit more five-run homers. Do you [...]

David Roth: David Raposa, I think you pissed off Tony La Russa. He gets asked these sad I-am-really-on-deadline-right-now questions every day as part of his job. Shouldn't he know how to answer these questions a little less… ulcerously?

David Raposa: Well, David Roth, I have to say that is some weaksauce ranting. He didn't even mention Kurt Bevacqua. Granted, beat reporters are stuck asking that sort of "well duh" nonsense in order to file copy. But he's just trying to rally the troops. Even the ones he can’t remember by name. "You think those Mendoza Lining clowns I field every day to hit behind the pitcher can't [...]

Who said the Steinbrenner kids weren't going to be as much fun as their old man? The Evil Empire, through its GM (and future cat lady) Brian Cashman, sent an e-mail yesterday that said if Yankees' Captain Derek Jeter could find a better offer than 3 years $45 million, he should Fucking Take It Somewhere Else. It was the kind of drunken hurt text message you send your favorite prostitute. OH YEAH? WELL YOURE JUST A FUCKIN PROSTITUTE AND IM A REAL PERSON! $45 million, by the way, is how much the Yankees spend annually on Puffs Plus. The good kind, with the lotion AND the Halls mentholyptus essence. [...]

• San Francisco Giants

• Minnesota Twins

• Los Angeles Dodgers

• St. Louis Cardinals

• Houston Astros

• Seattle Mariners

David Roth: Good news! I’ve secured a licensing deal for Carlos Zambrano RageBeast 27-Hour Energy Drink. Two flavors, for now: Lemon-Lime and Blind Fury. I’m still trying to figure out the ingredients, though. Any thoughts?

David Raposa: Stage blood. Preferably from a summer stock production of Oedipus.

David Roth: And hot dog water is a must. Because you need the nitrates and sodium and ambient protein. So corn syrup, food coloring… PCP?

David Raposa: Ground-up liver of Michael Barrett.

David Roth: I was trying to explain why having Keith Hernandez sit in the seats at Not-Shea Stadium to announce yesterday's Mets game was such a good idea to my wife. I embarrassed myself.

David Roth: I was saying something along the lines of, "So Keith's, like, haggling with the hot dog vendor, whose name is Orlando, because Keith says hot dogs were $5 last week and now they're $5.50. And then he asked for extra mustard, which he kept calling 'moo-tard' after that." And I felt like Ralph Kiner never feels when he's telling a 15-minute story about Daffy Dean's favorite sandwiches: like I needed to pick up [...]

David Roth: Hello! I am watching the suddenly unstoppable Mets offense bludgeon the Tigers bullpen.

David Raposa: I saw! It looked like every button Leyland tried to push turned out to be either the dashboard lighter or the ejector seat.

David Roth: I don't even know how to act when the Mets are playing like this. It's not helping the unreality factor that everyone in the Tigers pen has a name out of a Pynchon novel. Charles Furbush and Al Albuquerque, debating quantum physics in a punny way or whatever.

David Roth: Also for some reason, every Tigers game I watch features really audible hecklers. Some guy just gave [...]

David Raposa: Here is some high-quality fantasy baseball analysis: "[Joey Votto's .476 OBP is] 50 points higher than the on-base percentage he posted a year ago but he has increased that mark each of his first four seasons in the majors so he should be able to keep up this pace."

David Roth: That sentence is a joy to read. I'm so glad Rotoworld has Michael Ondaatje writing for them now.

David Raposa: How would you rejigger those bon mots, Mr. Professional Writer, Sir? "Hey, so this guy is getting on base like Barry Bonds, but he should be able to continue that ridiculous pace, so you can [...]

Baseball: it is slow, and sometimes you see sexagenarians, who are not necessarily in shape, walking around in pinstriped uniforms otherwise worn by guys several decades younger. It is drowsy and arcane and there are bro-tats and shark's tooth necklaces and action-less stretches that stretch towards the 45-minute mark. It is during one of these stretches—dudes just kind of milling around, a concerned and mustachioed old grump trotting arthritically towards the mound, the broadcasters maybe a bit tipsy or maybe not—that you should probably imagine the maunderings to follow occurring. Pretend we're some place that smells like hot dogs and old, soft, translucently fried things. It'll make it seem [...]

George Lee "Sparky" Anderson, one of Major League Baseball's all-time greats, has died. Anderson managed both the Detroit Tigers and Cincinnati Reds to World Series wins, and should also be remembered for his refusal to manage scabs in the wake of the 1994-1995 strike. Anderson was 76.