ESPN has been doing a top 100 of all time list this week.

Far more entertaining is Old Hoss Radbourn's comments on their selections on Twitter.


#6: T. Cobb. Demented racist whose style of base ball I adore. Nicknamed "Georgia Peach" because peaches are apparently grown in sphincters.


#7: R. Clemens. If you hate him, take pleasure in knowing every single day of his life removes him from the only thing he loves: relevance.

#11: H. Gehrig. True story: pummeled W. Pipp half to death with a shovel then stoically submitted his application for the open job at 1B

#15: R. Hornsby. "Never smoked or drank." I think that sums it up.

#16: M. Schmidt. He was great. Big deal. Try that cutesy stance with me, sir, and you would die.


#22: F. Robinson. Ordered a lad off his lawn then beat him with a tire iron anyway. Golfed his way to Washington as the Expos burned.

#24: G. Seaver. Greatest Met of all time, which is like naming syphilis the king of venereal diseases. 231 CG in 20 years. Took me 5 months.

#31: C. Ripken. Shockingly rude of him not to catch Cal Ripken's Disease and pass away before breaking L. Gehrig's streak.

#32: B. Gibson. A man of epic stature, endurance, and mean-ness who failed to fire one right through T. McCarver's face.

#38: Hahahahahahahahahahahahhaha oh my lord no, there's no East Coast bias here, oh no. (Choice was Derek Jeter)

#40: C. Yastrzemski. Polish potato farmer who went to Notre Dame. Overcame these handicaps to have a very fine career.

#43: B. Robinson. As a rule I never found that having the reputation of "able to catch anything" paid off in the places I frequented.

#54: W. Boggs. Enjoyed fornication, beer, chicken, loose women, smashing doubles, invisibility, and his mustache. The consummate team-mate.


#60: O. Smith. All-glove, no-bat shortstop who could have been from my era except for the black thing. Forced out by T. LaRussa, that ass.

#68: J. Bagwell. It is nigh time to acknowledge the unspoken truth: while batting he looked like a defecating monkey.

#69: F. Thomas. Nicknamed "The Big Hurt" because your ears bleed when listening to him attempt to speak. Parlayed this skill into a TV job.

#76: C. Fisk. Ego larger than you. If he had never lived there would be no "Good Will Hunting." This would have been a fine thing.

#81: "Duke" Snider. His inclusion is a tribute to the loyal fans of Brooklyn, who mercifully are all dying and can finally shut up.

#82: "Kid" Nichols. Trash. Never won more than 31 games. Earned his moniker from a Shanghai madam after she espied his manhood

#83: M. McGwire. Would be ranked higher but angered all the scribes when the fellatio they gave him in 1998 gave them oral cancer in 2005.

#85: M. Ramirez. Fun test: ask a scribe if "enigmatic" is secret code for "IQ of 7." I would have loved to have this guy on my team.

#90: C. Biggio. In my day, a man hit by 285 pitches dies 285 times.

#89: J. Palmer. Less popular with his team-mates than polio. Gave up 303 home runs, one for each of the fatherless children he abandoned.

#93: T. Glavine. Milquetoast lefty with a strike zone larger than E. Gregg. Not a bride or bridesmaid but rather the groom's ugly sister.

#95: S. Sosa. Would not have been allowed to play in my day, a rare case of this rule benefiting everyone.

And here are some unrelated tweets but ones that I like.

Royals' owner D. Glass to trade Jack Stack Barbeque and Arthur Bryant's for the rights to the McRib.

Adding a no-trade clause to a M. Young contract is like putting a Do Not Eat sign above a pile of feces.

Odd to see a modern victory by Redskins that does not involve a casino.

My favorite part of "Black Friday" was shopping for land in Dead Injun Territory.