Guys, I think this might be it for Miguel Tejada. His numbers have dropped for the third year in a row, he’s swinging at everything, he can’t adequately play the only position his bat (sort of) qualifies him for, he has the sixth-lowest WAR in baseball this year and he’s about to be crowded out of the Giants’ lineup. His play itself has become a metaphor for the Giants’ recent roster decisions:

That’s Tejada at third. That’s his replacement, Brandon Crawford, at short. That was Friday night.

His mini hot streak aside, this could be the final time he plays on Sunday Night Baseball. So let’s commemorate his career as the 25th greatest position player 5′ 9″ or shorter in baseball history.

Box score:

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Darryl Strawberry and his new friends all look so sad:

Mets beat the Braves. But wouldn’t you know it, that’s just the beginning. Box score:

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Bobby Valentine does air quotes with single fingers.

What does this mean?!? Is he saying that what he is quoting is a quote within a quote — and that his entire production of speech, everything he says, already has quote marks around it? Does he start the day with an open quotation mark, then end the day with a closed quotation mark, and in between he has to use single quotes for distinction? Probably, right.

Now to this Sunday Night’s box score:

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It’s pronounced reh-per-twar, Orel. Or, alternately, reh-puh-twar. You can listen to it right here. No need to pronounce it in the original French, my friend.

To the box score:

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When you hear “This is  something he’s going to have to live with the rest of his life**,” you think some poor fellow:

• A) got a rash on his perineum after sitting on a wet toilet seat in Mazatlan;
• B) must deal with wave after wave of spam after he accidentally registered with Bleacher Report;
• C) is coping with the guilt of causing thousands of deaths by launching a war using questionable intelligence about WMDs;
• D)  walked in on his parents smooshin’;
• E) is Jorge Posada.

That was a lot of Jorge Posada, you guys. Too much Jorge Posada. Let’s not talk about Jorge Posada ever again. Except maybe once more in Item B:

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Happy Mother’s Day, moms. Let’s just put all life’s problems aside for a day, kick back, relax, watch a ball game and absolutely obsess over the threat of breast cancer. Hoorah.

On to this Sunday’s box score:

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I didn’t watch last night’s game. (It’s called having a life, guys. Just kidding, it’s called hanging out with my parents.) So this is A Very Special Episode of Annotated Box Score, focused on just one topic sort of barely tangentially related to the game.

Box score:

I see Jason Isringhausen, and like everybody else I think of Generation K, which actually has its own Wikipedia page somehow. Generation K makes me think of Paul Wilson, which makes me think of failed No. 1 overall picks, and makes me wonder how close Wilson — a sometimes useful Major League pitcher — was to the average No. 1 overall pick, and who actually is the average No. 1 overall pick anyway? So I set out to find the median for the 39 players taken No. 1 overall between 1965 and 2004.  I’m going to count down from the outer edges — The best first, then the worst, then the second best, and so on as we converge to the center.

Aside from the first and third and probably fourth guys on this list, every other one represents disappointment in some way. That includes, obviously, Paul Wilson. Here we go:

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