Wednesday, March 16, 2005
Sitting in the art school... an hour until my next class... plenty of battery power... friends sitting around making it impossible to do actual work... you know where that leads.
Fun with roster photos!
If you look back at the Red Sox one and the Tigers one, you'll notice that the captions no longer directly correspond to the photos. This is because I'm linking directly to the photos used on the official sites, not hosting them on my own, so when the team changes their roster photos, the photos on this page change. It's actually kind of funny to go through and see what changed and what stayed the same, but I guess it's just one of the hazards of using those photos. I intend to not change anything, as I'm far too lazy to actually host them all on my own.
Anyways, Yankee time! Pitchers first, and as usual I probably won't do a few of them. I'm sure you'll survive.
OK, you know the guy from Everybody Loves Raymond who plays Ray's brother? Or something, I haven't actually ever seen the show, but you know who I mean. Take him, and put him on cocaine. Then take the cocaine away from him. Then increase the circumference of his neck. Put him in a Yankee hat. Ladies and gents, I give you Kevin Brown.
Jorge De Paula
I count at least 4 discrete chins here. Surely that is an accomplishment worth noting.
Now really, how does taking Tom Gordon's puppy and tormenting it before his very eyes count as good photography? Shame on you, MLB photographers, shame on you.
I can't... I can't even begin with this one. The sunken eyes. The creepy, toothy grin. The widely disunited eyebrows. The overall impression of Ogre-who-has-not-been-eating-his-vitamin-C-and-now-has-jaundice. This, this is a masterpiece.
"Ay-yup, Ah'm a big ol' hick pitcher, an' y'all can thank these here photo-takin' folk fer makin' sure that y'all could see that jus' fine. Ah miss mah mullet."
I really just want to go into Photoshop and pull that left part of his upper lip down into line with the rest of it. Really, it would only take me a few minutes. So simple, so easily remedied, yet so vital to making this photograph's subject look absolutely retarded.
All I have to say here is that I have never seen anything that looked less like a moose. And I think the right side of his jaw is caving in.
Oh my god, hairy catepillars are eating his face! Wait, those are just his eyebrows. And am I the only one getting a little freaked out by the perfect diamond formed by the creases that go from his nostrils to the corners of his mouth to the sides of chin? So geometric.
Yay color washout! Maybe they could just photograph the hat glued to a blank wall, as that's pretty much the only focal point of the photograph anyways.
Scott Proctor's neck is an entity unto itself. Possibly his brain resides there, as opposed to the more traditional, cranial location.
I just like how the unevenly worn blue undershirt makes it look like there's a sort of pseudo off-the-shoulder thing happening here. Paul Quantrill, you little 80s sorority girl, you.
"Mariana fruit bats live in colonies ranging from a few individuals to more than 800 and group themselves into harems (1 male with 2-15 females) or bachelor groups consisting primarily of males. The bat colonies sleep during the day, but they perform many other activities as well such as grooming, breeding, scent-rubbing, marking, flying, climbing to other roost spots, and defending roosting territories (harem males only). Bats gradually depart colonies for several hours after sunset to forage."
You think I'm kidding? I'm not. There is an actual, honest-to-god Mariana fruit bat. Sometimes, nature is good to us bloggers.
Sticking with the zoological theme, I'm not sure how good ol' Felix here can see anything with his tiny, mole-like eyes.
I really like how this lighting they're using completely washes out any and all shadows. Really, it's fantastic.
Are we sure it's not actually the ghost of Mike Stanton?
At first I was very amused by the look of startled confusion on the rubbery face of WOTS, but then I realized that much of this amusing expression was due to the fact that WOTS's pupils appear to be hugely dilated. Stop inhalin' the ether, WOTS!
Note the slender, girly neck... sort of the opposite of the Scott Proctor neck (braincase), as it were. It's the wispy little attempt at mustache above the uncomfortable sneer, however, that makes the photo.
Even his eyes attempt to follow the lines laid out by his solid cube of a head.
Too glorious. The clearly waxed eyebrows above the cheefully squinted eyes, combined with the big ears and the usual MLB photography color washout, make Flaherty look more like a mildly aged cave elf. I say 'cave elf', because I imagine that if he lived long enough in a cave he would lose all his natural pigmentation, like those albino lizards.
Like The Fruitbat, Posada is a classic, and I am glad the MLB photographers upheld all his classical mocking points. The promienent, Dumbo-esque ears are evident, as is the small and rodent-like mouth. The only thing that you can't see as well you normally can is his fantastically weak and receding chin, but one can't have everything.
Like a sunflower, Robinson Cano's hat leans towards its source of nutrition. In the sunflower's case, this would be the sun. In Cano's case, I imagine Steinbrenner is standing just to his right.
Inflatable infielders? Who knew?
Here piggy piggy piggy! Here piggy piggy piggy! Here piggy pigg--aarrrrgggh! Get it off me! Get it off me! Kill it! Kiiiillll iiiiiiiitttt....!
I'm not sure how the photographers managed to catch the underside of Jeter's hat, but it's not much improvement over their usual 'have the hat brim shade the eyes of the player in a creepy fashion' style. That lighting, again, is really not doing any favors to the famed Jeter complexion either.
"Those aren't bags under my eyes, they're extra pouches I can use to catch ground balls."
Hello, Colgate commercial.
He must have just freshly applied his lip gloss, which would explain why he's biting his upper lip here.
What a hale and hearty fellow! Except that he's so old that his eyebrows look like they're graying. Blimey.
Tony Womack: compressed.
I hate to keep harping on it, but I'm really having a hard time with this lighting. I mean, it almost breaks all barriers of conventional portrait photography lighting. Maybe the MLB photographers are artists on the cutting edge and I'm just not giving them enough credit. Also, Crosby looks stoned, but that's pretty standard for these things.
OH MY GOD THEY'VE CROSSED THE LINE THIS TIME, THE PHOTOGRAPHERS HAVE THROWN A VIAL OF CORROSIVE ACID AT HIS FACE. Oh, wait.
I never knew Sheffield had a lazy eye. Good for him, staying in the major leagues with that kind of handicap.
In the finest of MLB mugshot traditions, they just couldn't wait for Bernie to actually smile before taking the picture. I'll bet he threw a guitar pick at the photographer's head in frustration. Or maybe he just went back to painting on his eyebrows.
And finally, the DH.
His right eye appears to be just about to wink, which is a little disconcerting. And again, that lighting... makes it look like he's covered by a thin film of dust.
The 2005 New York Yankees. May they never cease to amuse us.
Must be off, it is time to learn me some computer programs. Later, kids.