John Ramos, 1991 Fleer Ultra Prospects series

Everybody, this is John Ramos. John Ramos, everybody. John is going to pose in a batting stance while the rest of us discuss rare commodities in baseball, okay? Let’s get down to business.



What is the rarest commodity in baseball?

Ooh, ooh, I know! Albert Pujols. Oh wait. What year is this … ’91? Oh, okay. Barry Bonds. The answer is Barry Bonds.

A flamethrowing lefthander?

No. I mean, that’s good and all, don’t get me wrong. But lefties who throw fast, while they don’t grow on trees—the “southpaw fire spruce,” as many believe, which is cultivated in remote areas of central New Mexico—are not the rarest baseball commodity. Does this hypothetical flamethrower have pinpoint location? That would be better. But ya’ know what’s even better than that? Barry Bonds.

No.

See?

A shortstop with great range and power?

Is the shortstop Barry Bonds? Then yes. If not, no. Again, great thing to have. But if by “rarest commodity” you mean the best asset a baseball team could posses—and I think that’s what you mean—then again, no. I would say that the rarest commodity in baseball is a great player with a great eye who is fast and powerful and awesome defensively who plays everyday and who is great at playing baseball and who is Barry Bonds. Would it be better if he weren’t kind of a dick? Sure. That’s why I originally answered “Pujols.” But it’s ’91, and I’m working with what I’ve been given.

Also, sidebar: It’s common knowledge that the 1991 NL MVP voting was a joke. But I mean, are you freakin’ kidding me? I feel like the BBWAA got a pass on this, when in fact—in the realm of awards, which are kind of stupid—this is like the gravest injustice of my lifetime. Every time a BBWAA member writes a grand, pretentious opus about why he voted for so-and-so for whatever, it should always end with the phrase, “But then again, Terry Pendleton.”

Maybe.

“Maybe?” Could you please be more definitive in dismissing your own answers to your own question?

What has become a rarity is a solid catcher who can hit. Meet John Ramos.

Okay, first of all, we already met John Ramos. Also, your original question was, “What is the rarest commodity in baseball?” and you have pseudo-responded to that question by naming something that has “become” a rarity. Also, this is wrong. Literally every baseball team has a solid catcher who can hit (at least a little). I mean, you pose this grandiose question and answer it with solid? “Solid” is a description for a player who has no distinguishable characteristics. Also, what does John Ramos have to do with all this?

This 25-year-old was a fifth round selection in the 1986 draft and has been brought along slowly.

Oh, wait. I see. You are saying that John Ramos is the rarest commodity in baseball. Hmmm. Okay. John, what do you think? {John Ramos nods his head “no.”} I don’t mean to knock John Ramos here or anything, who seems like a nice enough guy, but maybe it’s not so much that he’s being brought along slowly as it is that he is going slowly. {John Ramos nods his head “yes.”}

With the Yankees perennially weak behind the plate,

Ummm, apparently someone has never heard of the Matt Nokes Pyramid of Hitting.

this former late-round selection will be looked upon to add some offensive punch and a calming influence to a young Yankees’ staff in the near future.

No, he won’t. Also, offensive punch + calming influence = rarest commodity. If I had a nickel for every guy who lacked offensive punch and was a disruptive influence, I’d have like, a nickel that wasn’t very rare.

*Note: It seems as though the Matt Nokes website has changed. Please trust me that the original site was much more amazing.