Baseball Toaster was unplugged on February 4, 2009.
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In my family, we had a saying that when you make pancakes, you always ended up throwing out the first one because it gets burnt. Some people have agreed with me. Other people have given me puzzled looks and wondered how someone can burn pancakes. My theory is that people have trouble with the first pancake if they are using a griddle that hasn't fully heated up and can't judge the temperature correctly.
So there we have it for griddle-related humor and minutiae.
To introduce myself, my name is (as listed above), Bob Timmermann, a man who grew up on the mean streets of the San Fernando Valley and lives in the San Gabriel Valley, which Bing Crosby never sang about.
My purpose here on The Griddle is to serve as a catch all place for baseball news that the more specialized writers here don't have time or space for. Or possibly, I could just post a bunch of stuff that I feel like talking about: World Cup soccer previews, vacation ideas, or wondering just where at Disneyland did my cellphone disappear. (I'm pretty sure it was on Space Mountain.) Most of the posts won't have a long comment from me. And don't look for me for lengthy analyses unless you want to know about the life of Harry Kingman .
I have two older brothers who write for real papers (the ones with newsprint and ink) and if I can write about as 1% as well as they do, I will be meeting my objective.
But right now, this blog is in its own form of the Winter Meetings and I will be tweaking and testing to see what to put in and how to get everything to work and budget my time. Other writers will be dropping in news as well. I don't think this of this as my blog as much as it is Baseball Toaster's blog and I'm just trying to help out here and there.
And away we go....
Or, at least School Board.
Keep it real, Bob. Best wishes in this new niche in our Internet-baseball-psuedo-community world.
Somehow, and in a good way, I find that pretty funny.
When I was a kid, my sister and I would look forward to Sunday mornings because invariably we could talk our dad into making pancakes for breakfast. He loved 'em, too. In fact, he used to brag that he was such a good pancake chef that Du-Pars (the famous Encino, CA diner) was always trying to recruit him to join their staff. We always believed him too, and always listened to that story with a bit of awe. Gotta love the ignorance of youth.
Pancakes and Disneyland. Doesn't that call for Mickey Mouse-styled flap jacks?
So our saying was...
My sister always ended up throwing out the first quesadilla because it was burnt.
Good luck, Bob.
Valla con Dios. :)
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