Show me you can take a punch

You baseball fans -- especially those of you with an opinion on Michael Barrett's right hand to A.J. Pierzynski's jaw last weekend -- will enjoy this little contest.

(Background, for the non-fans: A.J. was obtained by the Giants in an awful trade with the Minnesota Twins a couple of winters ago, despite rumors that he was one of the most obnoxious, difficult players in the league. Suspicions were confirmed. He had a terrible year for the Giants, during which he allegedly kicked the trainer in the nuts, then went to the White Sox just in time to win the World Series. He's, uh, not exactly beloved here.)


FMFM: Machito's sides from the early 1940s, from the Proper box set. Although his most lasting contribution to music was his fusion of Afro-Cuban rhythms with the jazz of Parker and Gillespie, I think I like his earlier pre-bop material best. My taqueria-grade español is just decent enough that I know when he's singing about soup or rice, and when he's singing about a little love. Sometimes he's singing about practically nothing at all. But there's always a warm wind in this sound, just like on Catch a Fire, that brings me back over and over.