The 2023 MLB Draft is, most mercifully, over, and that means it's time to rank some names of draftees – 10 names, to be precise, all lovingly curated based on the richness of their implications. Yes, we have done the yeoman's work of giving expert and thorough consideration to the entire database of 614 names and/or half-assedly scanning a barely representative sample in order to determine our crop of annual honorees. What follows is our authoritative ordering of those names.
We're also listing each young man's draft position and newfound employer, so that, if you wish, you may verify that, yes, this person exists and lives and breathes among us and makes us better as a people. We have also taken the liberty of telling you what each evokes within the imagination -- i.e., what each name sounds like. We come not to mock, but rather to celebrate and in most instances envy.
Let us proceed.
10. Roc Riggio, No. 129, Yankees
Sounds like: Head of a machinist's local and awardee of an engraved bar stool at the Moose Lodge off Highway 262. Delights in ad-nauseam retelling the story of when, many years ago, he rushed for 104 yards on 61 carries in the overtime sectional loss to Mechanicsburg. But that was a long time ago, he will say to himself later that night seated alone at the kitchen table with the lights off as he watches through the window the first encroachments of that year's winter – whatever year it is – into the Cumberland Valley.
9. Travis Honeyman, No. 90, Cardinals
Sounds like: Former downtown Toledo haberdashery that once boasted northwest Ohio's largest array of doeskin waistcoats and tartan scarves. Radio spots ended with a male voice in an exaggerated British accent saying, "Overpriced but worth it, I dare say. Pip pip." Briefly produced In-house cologne called "Talon," which turned out to be flammable, carcinogenic, flame-retardant, and medicinal. Burned down in 1983.
8. Hurston Waldrep, No. 24, Braves
Sounds like: Polygamist western Kansas-based hanging judge, landed gentry, and part-time Anabaptist minister to the High Plains. Wears judicial robes to bed and church. More respected than respectable. Has on three occasions from the bench sentenced entire jury pool to death. Unaware that Colt Emerson (No. 22, Mariners) has been sprung from the jail in WaKeeney by Kannon Handy (No. 562, Rockies) and is headed his way with retribution at the prow of his fully poisoned mind.
7. Gino Groover, No. 48, Diamondbacks
Sounds like: Giorgio Moroder's often uncredited co-producer who invented the studio technique of replacing the bass drum in four-on-the-floor dance compositions with audio of naval artillery being fired inside a metal storage unit.
6. Colton Ledbetter, No. 55, Rays
Sounds like: NPC in Red Dead Redemption 2. In exchange for helping him set one oil derrick and six one-room schoolhouses on fire, teaches you to lasso wampus cats. This will prove an essential skill when, much later in the game in the swamps outside St. Denis, riverboat baccarat shark Coleman Picard (No. 169, Royals) will challenge you to a wampus-cat-lassoing contest with a booty of unlimited classic oatcakes hanging in the balance. Press L1 and R2 to murder him.
5. Phoenix Call, No. 448, Red Sox
Sounds like: Alternative weekly print newspaper known for running deeply uncensored personal ads under the banner "Talk of Shame" and a series of FOIA-driven exposés that revealed city managers planned to replace municipal water supply with Crystal Pepsi in exchange for timeshare kickbacks. Logo featured a drawing of the sun being arrested. Bought out by the hedge fund Boston Baro (No. 246, Mets) and forced to pivot to slideshows of divorced capybaras.
4. Christian Pregent, No. 306, Mets
Sounds like: Names of each of Hurston Waldrep's seven wives who will each bear him a Christian Little (No. 576, Mets). Four of those wives were born with the name, and the remaining three legally assumed it, signing the necessary documents at the scrolltop desk in Judge Waldrep's lushly appointed chambers. They will quite defensibly pawn his array of platinum walleye lures and use the money to hire local bad seed Harry Gustin (No. 551, Padres) to put an end to him and his ways. Colt Emerson will get there first – motivated as he is by reprisals rather than mere merchantry – thus entitling all seven Christian Pregents to a refund minus security deposit.
3. Paulshawn Pasqualotto, No. 357, Twins
Sounds like: Ancient Latin phrase that crudely translates as, "The act of driving a Nissan Altima that's on its fourth owner and has a salvage title and window-tinting well beyond the legal limits into a river while late for a pot-luck dinner with local Satanists." The casserole on the front seat is assumed to be spilled.
2. Caleb Ketchup, No. 444, Angels
Sounds like: Nom de plume of rogue cookbook author who launched an extended discourse on social media over his insistence that lard and and beef tallow be referred to as, respectively, "pig oil" and "cow oil." Real name Pier-Olivier Boucher (No. 309, Braves).
1. Izack Tiger, No. 201, Rangers
Sounds like: Personal-injury law firm catering to those whose mishaps are preceded by variations on "Y'all check this out," "Watch this sh*t," or "You don't think I'll do it, do you?" Landed historic settlement for Mikey Tepper (No. 435, Nationals) after Ralphy Velazquez (No. 23, Guardians), Danny Flatt (No. 432, Yankees), and Mikey Kane (No. 509, White Sox) dared him to drive a Husqvarna riding mower down a local water slide during peak summer hours. Has successfully sued trees.
