The last thing the baseballblogosphere needs is another cleverly-named projection system for players. And that's exactly why we at Walkoff Walk decided to add our collective voice to the statistical noise: we're just a bunch of jerks. Introducing the first-ever player projection forecasting system that dispenses with the OBPs and the FIPs, instead deciding to group every single player by age and write something mildly interesting about them. We call it BONILLA, or Based On Nothing Interesting, Let's Look At Age.
Click here to check out all the BONILLA age projections.
This afternoon, in no particular order, we look at players born before 1970. It's the final edition of BONILLA for the year:
Troy Percival, RP: Has started a single game in 14 year career. Someone must have had terrible diarrhea that day... but Troy will never say who.
Mariano Rivera, RP: The most feared relief pitcher of all time famously throws only one pitch. So why's he so scary? Prior to each game he dunks his uniform in a washtub of pitbull pheremones. From fresh squeezed pitbulls. I'm just glad he's old.
So Taguchi, OF: Born during Woodstock to two idealistic 17 year olds from Western CT. Herb Centers and Marion Thomas thought it was just the acid that made their child look Japanese. But it wasn't. So they named him So Taguchi and just played along. They married 8 weeks later.
Rudy Seanez, RP: Foreman of the United Journeyman's Society. Has pitched for so many teams that he gets to list his Agent as a pimp. For tax purposes.
Gary Sheffield, DH: Hornery. That second "r" is soooooo important.
Matt Stairs, OF: Last postseason's "Workingman Human Interest Piece Of Choice." Debuted in 1992, the same year as John Sencio.
Luis Gonzalez, OF: Like most of these old dudes, currently a free agent. Father of triplets. Clearly the steroid allegations were misguided and he should have been tested for fertility drugs. Hates Norwegians.
Tom Gordon, RP: Likes to drive entire family to Six Flags, drive into the parking lot then turn around and drive out saying "Ha! I was never going to take you there." Then continues laughing.
Trevor Hoffman, RP: Thinks hooded sweatshirts are just that. For hoods.
John Smoltz, SP: Was made for loving you. Wants to give it all to you. In the darkness.
Omar Vizquel, SS:
Wants to see it in your eyes. Feel the magic. Girl you were made for him.
Moises Alou, OF: You know someone's gonna sign this guy and we're all gonna get to use those handpissing jokes for another year. You just know it. Thank god, that's a huge part of our material. BECAUSE WE'RE HACKS.
Tom Glavine, SP: Played with a quiet intensity by Ron Howard since 1988.
Curt Schilling, SP: Pretty much the human embodiment of talk radio. I love him because I have to. May pitch this year if REAL AMERICANS have anything to say about it.
Mike Timlin, RP: See above. Except for the talk radio thing. Timlin's kind of a mute.
Tim Wakefield, SP: Played with a quiet intensity by Clint Howard since 1991.
Even Older Than Those Guys
Orlando Hernandez, SP: Most say his career is over but he already has a rubber arm. So what if he needs a year to rehab? He'll be back. Called me at 2AM to say "If you see one film this year, make it HOTEL FOR DOGS."
Barry Bonds, OF: Should play. I wrote it like 8 times on two different websites last year. Can't jump ship now.
Randy Johnson, SP: Signed by the Giants. Should have no trouble finding a good hairstylist this time around.
Jamie Moyer, SP: On a mountain of skulls, in a castle of pain, he sat on a throne of blood. Not exactly a man of the people, the evil tyrant gave himself such nicknames as the Scourge of Carpathia and the Sorrow of Moldavia, and was also known to his people as Jamie the Cruel, Jamie the Torturer, Jamie the Despised, and Jamie the Unholy (and, according to Peter Venkman, he was also Jamie the Butch). In 1610 his people rebelled against him, and decided that his death should equal his cruelty. Jamie was poisoned, stabbed, shot, hung, stretched, disemboweled, and finally drawn and quartered. Before he finally died, his severed head uttered his last words: "Death is a but a door, time is but a window. I'll be back!"
And in 1989, he did come back. His spirit possessed a portrait he had painted of himself which was on display at the Manhattan Museum of Art. His plan was to draw strength from an underground river of slime generated by the negative emotions of the people living in New York, then possess the body of a child on New Year's Eve so that he could live again. Using his dark magic, he brainwashed the museum's curator, Janosz Poha, instructing him to find an infant. Janosz picked Oscar, the baby of his employee Dana Barrett, and eventually kidnapped him. Jamie would eventually be thwarted by the Ghostbusters, who researched his background and deduced his connection to the river of slime.
On New Year's Eve, Jamie had gathered enough strength to actually exit the painting and attempt to take over Oscar's body, but the evil spirit was weakened by the singing of crowds outside the museum who were celebrating the birth of the new year. Jamie retreated back into the painting, transforming into a hideous monster, and briefly took over the body of Ray Stantz. The other Ghostbusters then covered Ray with positively-charged slime, blasting Jamie back into the painting again. Jamie's ghost was then dispelled forever when the painting itself was doused in the slime.