Ever since this post, the official Seal of Approval--at least, in general SG circles--for posts that are breathtaking in their insane glory is the following: *slow applause*
"Slow applause" is not appropriate for a moving, vividly written post. It's not exactly an admiration of sound writing, per se, although sound writing is often required to make a "slow applause" post. A "slow applause" post prompts said applause as a means of saying, "I marvel at the labyrinthine twists in the mental process it took to conceive of, let alone execute, this particular idea."
Presented, this week's "Slow Applause Seal of Approval" winners in the baseball blogosphere:
Honorable Mentions: Last week, Jose Melendez had a stellar stretch that began with a genie appearing to Aaron Small and culminated in a stunning parody of Kafka's "The Metamorphosis" starring Randy Johnson.
Bronze Medal: Sam, for her Sept. 10 post, which contained this gem:
The Red Sox... the wonky defense got us again. I don't know what to say about Edgar. I don't know that I've ever actually seen someone throw the ball, on a relay, directly at the ground before. That was special. Special like a tiny, tiny kitten with one eye and extra toes and a smashed-up persian-style face so its tongue is always sticking out and it's drooling. Also it has the mange. And the runs. THIS KITTEN IS THE METAPHOR FOR EDGAR RENTERIA THROWING THE BALL AT THE GROUND. PICTURE IT. PICTURE IT IN ALL ITS SWEETLY, HEART-WRENCHINGLY DEFORMED KITTENNESS.
Silver Medal: Sarah's post, entitled "Where Would I Be Without David Fucking Ortiz?" Key excerpt:
trying to nab some sleep on a concrete bench in the county jail while some crackwhore offers me cigarettes she just fished out of her panties while she took a plain-view piss on the toilet in the corner of the cell. Oh wait, that already happened to me.
Gold Medal: Now on most days, Sarah takes the gold hands down. But today, Emma busted out with "To the PapiMobile!" A thematic re-enactment of last night's game dizzying in the subtlety of its references and awe-inspiring in its ridiculous genius. Key excerpt (although, really, this post must be appreciated in its lunatic entirety):
"For Red Sox Nation, and for Papi-Man, I will win this fight."
As the dust clears, we see 3 outs upon the scoreboard, a 6-5 final score, and a lone figure striding off the field.
Well done, my children. Well done, indeed.