I can't tell you how utterly stunned I was to hear about Rafael Palmeiro's steroid suspension. Stunned and truly, truly saddened. I'm a big boy (insert short joke here), I understand that our heroes really aren't deserving of that distinction, being mostly flawed assholes like all the rest of us. But I quite simply believed that Palmeiro earned his numbers in an era where so many didn't. Now, though, even as he mildly (and bizarrely) protests that he didn't "intentionally" take steroids, he's a common roid-monkey like Jason Giambi (and if you believe he's not on HGH - which isn't tested today - right now, you deserve the mockery of your family) and Barry Bonds.
The Palmeiro announcement pretty much seals it for me. My default position with every single major leaguer now is that he's on the juice. Every one, that is, except David Ortiz. There's too much money at stake, and these guys are too competitive. Juicers, all of them. You won't convince me otherwise.
Monday, August 01, 2005
Sunday, July 31, 2005
Really Dead Line
Games 102 through 104 - Red Sox
Red Sox 8, Twins 5
Red Sox 6, Twins 2
Red Sox 4, Twins 3
Record: 59-45
Red Sox 8, Twins 5
Red Sox 6, Twins 2
Red Sox 4, Twins 3
Record: 59-45
If we come out of this ridiculous soap opera of a week with a five-game winning
streak, we ought to be f*&^%0-ing estatic. - SoSH poster
LahoudOrBillyC
I couldn't have said it any better, so I won't. I chronicled Wednesday's lineup below - the Sox went on to win that game easily. John Olerud was the Sox' cleanup hitter in the final 2 games of this weekend's set against the Twins as Manny Ramirez went on walkabout - and the Dark Helmet drove in 4 runs in those games and 8 in the series. Jon Papelbon made his major league debut today, and struck out 4 of the first 8 major leaguers he faced, and 7 total in 5 2/3 Clemens-esque innings (early, wild Clemens, mind you - but the kid was bringing it). Gabe Kapler returned to Boston from his Japanese tour and immediately contributed 2 hits and 2 runs. Adam Stern got picked off - again (on a brighter note, his barmitzvah went splendidly). In short, it was among the more bizarre weeks of this or any Sox season - and the Sox responded to the chaos by running off 5 consecutive wins. Idiots rule. And I take back all that stuff I said last year about the Vichy Twins - your capitulation this week was much appreciated.
The week's big circus was the Manny to the Mets saga. I'm interested in my colleague's take on the deal, but I can't say that I ever took it very seriously. The most realistic deal I saw involved the Sox sending Manny to the Mets and Hanley Ramirez, Kelly Shoppach, and Jon Lester to the D-Rays, with the Mets sending Lastings Milledge and Aaron Heilman (or some other prospect) to the Rays and Mike Cameron to the Sox, and the Rays sending Danys Baez to New York and Aubrey Huff to the Sox. Knowing as I do that Theo Epstein is not dumber than a fucking rock, I put the odds of that deal closing at somewhere between the odds of Manny joining Mensa and Kevin Millar passing a microphone without yapping into it.
The simple fact of the Manny matter is that the Sox will not get equal value in return for the game's premier run-producer, even if someone is willing to eat his salary. As he himself noted in the jubilant aftermath of today's win (a win made possible when he entered the game as a pinch-hitter and drove in the game-winner in the bottom of the 8th), "That's just Manny being Manny, man. I want to be here." And as much as that sentiment makes rational men batshit, we don't traffic in the rational here in the Nation, so welcome back, Manny - please refrain from thinking and commence bashing.
Weird trade deadline all over the place. After all the hue and cry that generally leads up to this date every year, nearly nothing of any import happened. A few mid-level talents moved - a Randy Winn here, a Kyle Farnsworth there - but none of the big names packed their bags. Nobody got A.J. Burnett, nor did the Rangers move Alfonso Soriano and his slider-missing bat. (Aside - were I a major league manager I'd fine any of my pitchers that threw him anything but offspeed stuff well off the plate.) The Orioles cemented their reputation as baseball's worst-run organization and my hatred of their franchise in one fell swoop, trading Larry Bigbie and his potential for Eric Byrnes and his Ritalin. The Yankees picked up Shawn Chacon, which helps their rotation, but only marginally.
The Sox got Jose Cruz, Jr. to add to their outfield-by-committee, in their only deadline move. With Trot Nixon out for a least the next several weeks, Cruz and Kapler will platoon in right, leaving Stern as all-purpose fill-in and designated pickoffee. Not optimal, but I suppose anything's better than giving Adam Hyzdu meaningful at-bats.
The best deal the Sox made was the one they didn't. You could see the fear in David Ortiz' eyes after Saturday's game, when the Twins walked him 4 times in front of Olerud - his future was writ large in the Minny staff's errant tosses. With Manny still in the fold, the league's most fearsome 3-4 combo remains intact. The other best moves the Sox made aren't moves at all - they have to be patient and pray that modern medicine knows what the hell it's doing. Pretty simple calculus to me at this point: if Curt Schilling returns to anchor the rotation and Keith Foulke gets back in time to solidify the pen, the Sox are the best team in the AL. If not, the Sox go down to the wire for a playoff spot, with no better than a puncher's chance. At least the offense looks to be there all the way.
The team that should feel best about the deadline activity is the St. Louis Cardinals. The Redbirds are clearly the class of the bigs this season, and with nobody else making significant advances this week, the Cards should be the odds-on favorites to finish what they started last year before Destiny steamrolled them.
Friday, July 29, 2005
Define "Hitter's Park," Please
Game 102 - Mets
Astros 3, Mets 2
Record: 52-50
The Mets have hit well in that new glorified wiffleball park in Philthadelphia, but they struggled to circle the bases in Colorado's stratospheric boon, and last night they flailed away in that softball field in Houston. What is it about these supposed hitter's parks that's confounding the Mets? They're afraid of getting hit by their own carom off the left field wall? They don't want to maim a fan with a line drive? Please, people, use these silly atrocities to your advantage.
Pedro held the Astros to two runs over eight innings. In other parks, that's a shutout. It's not going to get better than that in (Someone with) Minute (Intelligence) Maid (This) Park; in fact, with Benson/Glavine/Ishii slated for duty, it's going to get increasingly worse. The time is now to start racking up the runs. There were opportunities squandered all over the place last night, beginning in the first inning. Bases loaded, nobody out, they managed one run on a sac fly. Pitcher Ezequiel Astacio, who entered with an astro-nomical ERA of 8.24, seemed energized by that lack of Met productivity. Yet another struggling pitcher that the Mets revitalize. Here's an idea, Willie -- put in those bench guys tonight; it seemed to work in Denver.
I mentioned that Ishii will pitch Sunday, but I'm hoping he's long gone from the rotation by then. With the trade deadline some 60 hours away, there may be some transaction that deems his services unnecessary. More likely, however, is a bad trade that infuriates the Township to no end. See any post from early August of last year for an example.
Blogs throughout the 'sphere have spelled out what the Mets fans want out of this trading season, or really what we don't want. We don't want underachieving stiffs, which it seems Omar Minaya is exclusively interested in. We don't want guys whose numbers will plummet at Shea (that includes Alfonso Soriano, whose OPS is all "S" in yet another hitter's park), and we don't want older for younger unless that older is a top-tier talent. We don't want to hand over prospects like Lastings Milledge, Yusmeiro Petit, and Gaby Hernandez unless it's going to garner someone of serious clout, not a mid-grade player who needs to have his problems tinkered with by the brain trust in Queens. I'd apologize for another tired reference to last year's debacle, but it's still fresh, it's still painful, and it's still a terrible trade no matter how many "solid" outings Zambrano logs. Omar, please. I'd rather see nothing get done than another chunk removed from the Mets' foundation.
And on a lighter note, I'm glad to see that I was right about something else that should not have happened. Here's my plea against making the Bad News bears re-make, and here's Sports Guy's review crushing it.
Astros 3, Mets 2
Record: 52-50
The Mets have hit well in that new glorified wiffleball park in Philthadelphia, but they struggled to circle the bases in Colorado's stratospheric boon, and last night they flailed away in that softball field in Houston. What is it about these supposed hitter's parks that's confounding the Mets? They're afraid of getting hit by their own carom off the left field wall? They don't want to maim a fan with a line drive? Please, people, use these silly atrocities to your advantage.
Pedro held the Astros to two runs over eight innings. In other parks, that's a shutout. It's not going to get better than that in (Someone with) Minute (Intelligence) Maid (This) Park; in fact, with Benson/Glavine/Ishii slated for duty, it's going to get increasingly worse. The time is now to start racking up the runs. There were opportunities squandered all over the place last night, beginning in the first inning. Bases loaded, nobody out, they managed one run on a sac fly. Pitcher Ezequiel Astacio, who entered with an astro-nomical ERA of 8.24, seemed energized by that lack of Met productivity. Yet another struggling pitcher that the Mets revitalize. Here's an idea, Willie -- put in those bench guys tonight; it seemed to work in Denver.
I mentioned that Ishii will pitch Sunday, but I'm hoping he's long gone from the rotation by then. With the trade deadline some 60 hours away, there may be some transaction that deems his services unnecessary. More likely, however, is a bad trade that infuriates the Township to no end. See any post from early August of last year for an example.
Blogs throughout the 'sphere have spelled out what the Mets fans want out of this trading season, or really what we don't want. We don't want underachieving stiffs, which it seems Omar Minaya is exclusively interested in. We don't want guys whose numbers will plummet at Shea (that includes Alfonso Soriano, whose OPS is all "S" in yet another hitter's park), and we don't want older for younger unless that older is a top-tier talent. We don't want to hand over prospects like Lastings Milledge, Yusmeiro Petit, and Gaby Hernandez unless it's going to garner someone of serious clout, not a mid-grade player who needs to have his problems tinkered with by the brain trust in Queens. I'd apologize for another tired reference to last year's debacle, but it's still fresh, it's still painful, and it's still a terrible trade no matter how many "solid" outings Zambrano logs. Omar, please. I'd rather see nothing get done than another chunk removed from the Mets' foundation.
And on a lighter note, I'm glad to see that I was right about something else that should not have happened. Here's my plea against making the Bad News bears re-make, and here's Sports Guy's review crushing it.
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Drowning in Coors
Games 96 through 101 – Mets
Dodgers 6, Mets 5
Mets 7, Dodgers 5
Mets 6, Dodgers 0
Rockies 5, Mets 3
Rockies 4, Mets 3
Mets 9, Rockies 3
Record: 52-49
I decided to shake off the rust with a good, old-fashioned simul-blog of the Mets’ big game against the Colorado Rockies. After dropping the first two games of this series in rather atrocious fashion, somebody needed to do something to jar the pieces back into place. I’ll address those two losses amid the comments of this game, but let’s just jump right in.
Jose Reyes pops out weakly to lead off the game. Nice tone-setter. Up comes Miguel Cairo – it seems Mike Cameron has the night off. Let’s delve into why that might be.
Mike Cameron: wow, what a stellar and decidedly clutch performance he had last night. Top of the seventh, two down, down two, bases teeming with Mets runners. He was facing Mike “Back From” DeJean – yes, the same Mike DeJean who sported Met colors for a shining latter half of ’04 and a first half of ’05 that was something out of The Shining. The same Mike DeJean who earned – earned, mind you – the nickname “Hitaway” from my peer Metsradamus. The same Mike DeJean who’d just walked Jose Reyes to load the bases on a plate appearance that featured a rare sighting of a pitch that hits the backstop on the fly. Cameron flicked a couple of half-swing accidents, and a couple of pitches later was frozen on a breaking ball in the heart of the plate for an energy-sapping strike three.
Fast forward about 15 minutes and two innings later. Mike Cameron up again, two down, down one, tying run on second base (Jose Reyes on a huge upswing lately), Brian “Daisy” Fuentes looking for the save. A chance for redemption, or, in a surprising plot twist, a chance for déjà vu. Strike one (another glorious half-swing, as if he were conserving swings), strike two (looking . . . lost), ball, ball, and ugh, another ball down the middle that fooled Cameron again. Game over. Hence, the seat on the pine tonight. Well, these at-bats plus his steady march towards the .230 he hit last year.
Cairo doubles to left, but Carlos Beltran seemed distracted by a runner in scoring position, as he often is. His whiff, and a Cliff Floyd broken-bat groundout later, and another goose egg goes up for the Mets. You know how difficult it can be to score runs here in Coors Field. The Mets scored 3 runs on 5 hits two nights ago – that’s the equivalent of a 2-hit shutout in other, real parks. Last night they managed 3 runs once again. Somebody call HoJo – it’s time to start corking.
Victor Zambrano’s on the hill for the Metros tonight. This could be . . . unpleasant.
Fox Sports Net Rocky Mountains (a treat for the eyes and ears, three nights running) just posted the Colorado lineup:
Cory Sullivan CF
Aaron Miles 2B
Matt Holliday LF
Garrett Atkins 3B
Eric Byrnes RF
Ryan Shealy 1B
Desi Relaford SS
Danny Ardoin C
J Wright P
And Rob thought today's Sox lineup was weak? Willie Randolph is currently channeling Jon Lovitz: “I can’t believe I’m losing to these guys.”
Three singles = 1 run for Colorado. You know how people’s proverbial “15 minutes of fame” really translates into a few months or a year? I think Rick Peterson’s “10 minutes to fix Victor Zambrano” can actually be translated into 8 years. 1-0 after one.
I’ve liked Clint Hurdle since he managed the Tides, but really, guys, this three-game quest to save his job is a bit over the top.
Right-fielder Marlon Anderson homers to right! Mike Cameron’s Day Off has me issuing a Ferris Bueller memo to Mr. Minaya: When Cameron was in Omar’s hands..."Let Mike Cameron go!" Trade him. 1-1.
First baseman Doug Mientkiewicz hits a single+error that gets ruled a double. In case you were thinking last night’s loss was Mike Cameron’s fault, think again. In the middle innings, Jose Reyes fielded a grounder with two outs and fired a decent throw that did not bounce in the dirt but did bounce off Chris Woodward’s glove. The runner took second, was driven home with an ensuing single, and was immediately followed by a two-run home run. Three unnecessary runs, and the obvious difference in what would end a one-run loss. Woodward’s done too much good to come down overly hard on him with “jack of all trades, master of none” slags, but it hurt. Enter glove-handy Mientkiewicz tonight. Alas, he’s stranded, though.
Three up, three down. To Victor goes this spoiled egg salad sandwich of a bottom of the lineup.
Any inning in which Reyes singles to lead off is instantly one worth watching closely. Hold on a sec . . .
Any inning in which Miguel Cairo lines to right and doubles off a would-be stealing Reyes is one that chafes with all the friction of a sandpaper jock strap. Remind me not to watch the Mets too closely in this series. It’s like staring at the sun . . . above the image of a fat guy bending over naked. Beltran strikes out. Again.
Bottom 3. Two quick outs, but then a walk. A nice play by David Wright to bookend the inning that began with a nice play by . . . Doug. (Twice is plenty to type that last name.) 1-1 after three.
This Rockies telecast seems to interject a whole lot of extra fluff into nine innings of ball. Multiple interviews with fans in the stands, answering e-mails every other inning, random staffers brought into the booth, and an excess of explanations about nuances of the game (like how to throw a curveball). Since the first pitch, we’ve seen three times as much of the two cats in the booth than we’ve seen of the Mets players. Right now we’re getting to know Kim Hawpe. You know, Brad Hawpe’s wife (duh). She’s talking about Brad’s rehab from injury and an upcoming food drive. Who knew the Rockies played on public access channels?
MARLON ANDERSON DOES IT AGAIN. Honestly, this guy has had a more exciting season (pinch-hits galore, that crazy inside-the-park job, now this) than most of the regulars. More important than this, though, Brad and Kim Hawpe have been dating since high school.
Ramon Castro makes it consecutive executives! (I’m sick of “back-to-back jacks,” so I came up with this phrase, which should stick about as long as the Brian Daubach era.) In case it’s not obvious, he homered, too, making Willie Randolph the Manager of the Hour for benching Cameron & Piazza in this game. 3-1.
This just in: Rockies outfielder Danny Ardoin tells us his favorite movie is Top Gun. “Never gets old,” he proclaims. I can’t tell you any of the Mets’ favorite movies, and my question is – why the hell not, MSG???
Zambrano bunted his way on to open the 5th, startlingly. Reyes singles up the middle – the kid is hot these days. And Cairo singles in a run. 4-1. Finally the Mets crash through that stingy three-run-threshold at Coors. There’s action in the Rockies’ bullpen, or I should say, the Rockies’ little rock and fern garden where their relief pitchers warm up. Stuart Smalley owns this team, correct?
The home-plate umpire just called time at the last second and sprinted out from behind the catcher as if being pursued by a swarm of bees. I’m looking for these broadcasters to bring him a shawl and some tea to console him.
Beltran sensed the lack of critical need from the team and doubled in a run. Like clockwork. Now the Rocks walk Cliff Floyd to get to David Wright. I’m going to call this a mistake now.
Wright’s low liner gets by a diving Eric Byrnes (Rob Russell’s favorite hyperactive) to plate two more. 7-1 now, and Jamey Wright hits the showers.
Castro doubles in two more. The Mets’ lineup, featuring a few benchies, has notched nine earned runs in 4.1 innings. The “starters” could only muster three in nine. Twice. Baseball is funny. Life is funny. Losing a series to the worst team in the National League is not as funny.
Doug gets punched out to end the inning, then gets tossed as he adds a piece of commentary on his way back out to first base. Enter Chris Woodward. In right field, of course, as Marlon Anderson goes to first with the underlying Willie-message, “We want someone who can catch to play first.”
Coloradical scores on a single/stolen base/double. 9-2 now. You know . . . this team, with this guy pitching, in this ballpark . . . the deep exhale hasn’t been breathed just yet.
By the way, third-base coach Mike Gallego is miked tonight. So far we’ve been treated to gems like “Hold up” and “You’re scoring.” Well worth the replays. Now we’re up in the upper deck with the boys and girls club being interviewed. Not a single mention of “baseball,” “Rockies,” or “team,” but everyone agreed that “the sunset was spectacular.” This is the ultimate anti-New York telecast. I’m not judging it; not at all. I’m just stunned by the feelgood nature of this broadcast after watching New York coverage for so long. Everyone in Denver seems so happy, or so stoned, or both.
As if sensing that the game might still be in reach for the Rockies, Beltran fans for the third time.
Marlon Anderson makes a fine play at first as Spazmo-D Byrnes head-first leaps and slides through the bag. Chris Woodward is heard yelling, “Nice play,” from right field.
I don’t really want to talk about Tuesday night’s loss, either, except to say that a crap call at first gave the Rockies a fairly important run (at least one), Willie argued the call as if he were in a library, and Jose “Friggin’” Acevedo stymied the Mets like he did two years ago with the Reds. Memo to the Metropolitans: the rest of the league seems to like to tee off on Jose Acevedo; it’s not “bandwagoning” to do the same.
Floyd doubles to deep center, then makes a lazy error on the basepaths to get caught in a rundown, then makes a clever hustle play to ensure David Wright makes it to second, neutralizing his mistake. It’s a roller coaster of emotions here, people.
9-2 through six and a half. Every Met starter, including the pitcher, has at least one hit. 15 runs in three games is good; two losses out of three to the baseball equivalent of office temps is not as good.
Things are moving quickly, like everyone on both teams wants to go home. Even Danny Graves can’t sustain a Rockies rally, inducing a GIDP in the eighth after two guys get on. He’s pretty lousy, though, by the way.
Bottom of the 9th, still 9-2. After a walk and a double, Graves strikes out two. After a walk and a single, it’s 9-3. The Reds knew what they were doing, all right – a General Manager hasn’t made such a wise move in Cincinnati since Arthur Carlson hired Andy Travis as program director. Ah, a popout ends it. A nice comfortable win to blur the dreadful vision of those first two games. A more-than-solid outing by Zambrano, a Mets lineup hitting as if they were playing in thin air, and a nice welcome back for me after I ignored MLC for too long. Life is so swell, everyone is so wonderful, and the Mets are . . . still pretty damn average. Sorry, I must have gotten some Rocky Mountain contact high for a second.
Dodgers 6, Mets 5
Mets 7, Dodgers 5
Mets 6, Dodgers 0
Rockies 5, Mets 3
Rockies 4, Mets 3
Mets 9, Rockies 3
Record: 52-49
I decided to shake off the rust with a good, old-fashioned simul-blog of the Mets’ big game against the Colorado Rockies. After dropping the first two games of this series in rather atrocious fashion, somebody needed to do something to jar the pieces back into place. I’ll address those two losses amid the comments of this game, but let’s just jump right in.
Jose Reyes pops out weakly to lead off the game. Nice tone-setter. Up comes Miguel Cairo – it seems Mike Cameron has the night off. Let’s delve into why that might be.
Mike Cameron: wow, what a stellar and decidedly clutch performance he had last night. Top of the seventh, two down, down two, bases teeming with Mets runners. He was facing Mike “Back From” DeJean – yes, the same Mike DeJean who sported Met colors for a shining latter half of ’04 and a first half of ’05 that was something out of The Shining. The same Mike DeJean who earned – earned, mind you – the nickname “Hitaway” from my peer Metsradamus. The same Mike DeJean who’d just walked Jose Reyes to load the bases on a plate appearance that featured a rare sighting of a pitch that hits the backstop on the fly. Cameron flicked a couple of half-swing accidents, and a couple of pitches later was frozen on a breaking ball in the heart of the plate for an energy-sapping strike three.
Fast forward about 15 minutes and two innings later. Mike Cameron up again, two down, down one, tying run on second base (Jose Reyes on a huge upswing lately), Brian “Daisy” Fuentes looking for the save. A chance for redemption, or, in a surprising plot twist, a chance for déjà vu. Strike one (another glorious half-swing, as if he were conserving swings), strike two (looking . . . lost), ball, ball, and ugh, another ball down the middle that fooled Cameron again. Game over. Hence, the seat on the pine tonight. Well, these at-bats plus his steady march towards the .230 he hit last year.
Cairo doubles to left, but Carlos Beltran seemed distracted by a runner in scoring position, as he often is. His whiff, and a Cliff Floyd broken-bat groundout later, and another goose egg goes up for the Mets. You know how difficult it can be to score runs here in Coors Field. The Mets scored 3 runs on 5 hits two nights ago – that’s the equivalent of a 2-hit shutout in other, real parks. Last night they managed 3 runs once again. Somebody call HoJo – it’s time to start corking.
Victor Zambrano’s on the hill for the Metros tonight. This could be . . . unpleasant.
Fox Sports Net Rocky Mountains (a treat for the eyes and ears, three nights running) just posted the Colorado lineup:
Cory Sullivan CF
Aaron Miles 2B
Matt Holliday LF
Garrett Atkins 3B
Eric Byrnes RF
Ryan Shealy 1B
Desi Relaford SS
Danny Ardoin C
J Wright P
And Rob thought today's Sox lineup was weak? Willie Randolph is currently channeling Jon Lovitz: “I can’t believe I’m losing to these guys.”
Three singles = 1 run for Colorado. You know how people’s proverbial “15 minutes of fame” really translates into a few months or a year? I think Rick Peterson’s “10 minutes to fix Victor Zambrano” can actually be translated into 8 years. 1-0 after one.
I’ve liked Clint Hurdle since he managed the Tides, but really, guys, this three-game quest to save his job is a bit over the top.
Right-fielder Marlon Anderson homers to right! Mike Cameron’s Day Off has me issuing a Ferris Bueller memo to Mr. Minaya: When Cameron was in Omar’s hands..."Let Mike Cameron go!" Trade him. 1-1.
First baseman Doug Mientkiewicz hits a single+error that gets ruled a double. In case you were thinking last night’s loss was Mike Cameron’s fault, think again. In the middle innings, Jose Reyes fielded a grounder with two outs and fired a decent throw that did not bounce in the dirt but did bounce off Chris Woodward’s glove. The runner took second, was driven home with an ensuing single, and was immediately followed by a two-run home run. Three unnecessary runs, and the obvious difference in what would end a one-run loss. Woodward’s done too much good to come down overly hard on him with “jack of all trades, master of none” slags, but it hurt. Enter glove-handy Mientkiewicz tonight. Alas, he’s stranded, though.
Three up, three down. To Victor goes this spoiled egg salad sandwich of a bottom of the lineup.
Any inning in which Reyes singles to lead off is instantly one worth watching closely. Hold on a sec . . .
Any inning in which Miguel Cairo lines to right and doubles off a would-be stealing Reyes is one that chafes with all the friction of a sandpaper jock strap. Remind me not to watch the Mets too closely in this series. It’s like staring at the sun . . . above the image of a fat guy bending over naked. Beltran strikes out. Again.
Bottom 3. Two quick outs, but then a walk. A nice play by David Wright to bookend the inning that began with a nice play by . . . Doug. (Twice is plenty to type that last name.) 1-1 after three.
This Rockies telecast seems to interject a whole lot of extra fluff into nine innings of ball. Multiple interviews with fans in the stands, answering e-mails every other inning, random staffers brought into the booth, and an excess of explanations about nuances of the game (like how to throw a curveball). Since the first pitch, we’ve seen three times as much of the two cats in the booth than we’ve seen of the Mets players. Right now we’re getting to know Kim Hawpe. You know, Brad Hawpe’s wife (duh). She’s talking about Brad’s rehab from injury and an upcoming food drive. Who knew the Rockies played on public access channels?
MARLON ANDERSON DOES IT AGAIN. Honestly, this guy has had a more exciting season (pinch-hits galore, that crazy inside-the-park job, now this) than most of the regulars. More important than this, though, Brad and Kim Hawpe have been dating since high school.
Ramon Castro makes it consecutive executives! (I’m sick of “back-to-back jacks,” so I came up with this phrase, which should stick about as long as the Brian Daubach era.) In case it’s not obvious, he homered, too, making Willie Randolph the Manager of the Hour for benching Cameron & Piazza in this game. 3-1.
This just in: Rockies outfielder Danny Ardoin tells us his favorite movie is Top Gun. “Never gets old,” he proclaims. I can’t tell you any of the Mets’ favorite movies, and my question is – why the hell not, MSG???
Zambrano bunted his way on to open the 5th, startlingly. Reyes singles up the middle – the kid is hot these days. And Cairo singles in a run. 4-1. Finally the Mets crash through that stingy three-run-threshold at Coors. There’s action in the Rockies’ bullpen, or I should say, the Rockies’ little rock and fern garden where their relief pitchers warm up. Stuart Smalley owns this team, correct?
The home-plate umpire just called time at the last second and sprinted out from behind the catcher as if being pursued by a swarm of bees. I’m looking for these broadcasters to bring him a shawl and some tea to console him.
Beltran sensed the lack of critical need from the team and doubled in a run. Like clockwork. Now the Rocks walk Cliff Floyd to get to David Wright. I’m going to call this a mistake now.
Wright’s low liner gets by a diving Eric Byrnes (Rob Russell’s favorite hyperactive) to plate two more. 7-1 now, and Jamey Wright hits the showers.
Castro doubles in two more. The Mets’ lineup, featuring a few benchies, has notched nine earned runs in 4.1 innings. The “starters” could only muster three in nine. Twice. Baseball is funny. Life is funny. Losing a series to the worst team in the National League is not as funny.
Doug gets punched out to end the inning, then gets tossed as he adds a piece of commentary on his way back out to first base. Enter Chris Woodward. In right field, of course, as Marlon Anderson goes to first with the underlying Willie-message, “We want someone who can catch to play first.”
Coloradical scores on a single/stolen base/double. 9-2 now. You know . . . this team, with this guy pitching, in this ballpark . . . the deep exhale hasn’t been breathed just yet.
By the way, third-base coach Mike Gallego is miked tonight. So far we’ve been treated to gems like “Hold up” and “You’re scoring.” Well worth the replays. Now we’re up in the upper deck with the boys and girls club being interviewed. Not a single mention of “baseball,” “Rockies,” or “team,” but everyone agreed that “the sunset was spectacular.” This is the ultimate anti-New York telecast. I’m not judging it; not at all. I’m just stunned by the feelgood nature of this broadcast after watching New York coverage for so long. Everyone in Denver seems so happy, or so stoned, or both.
As if sensing that the game might still be in reach for the Rockies, Beltran fans for the third time.
Marlon Anderson makes a fine play at first as Spazmo-D Byrnes head-first leaps and slides through the bag. Chris Woodward is heard yelling, “Nice play,” from right field.
I don’t really want to talk about Tuesday night’s loss, either, except to say that a crap call at first gave the Rockies a fairly important run (at least one), Willie argued the call as if he were in a library, and Jose “Friggin’” Acevedo stymied the Mets like he did two years ago with the Reds. Memo to the Metropolitans: the rest of the league seems to like to tee off on Jose Acevedo; it’s not “bandwagoning” to do the same.
Floyd doubles to deep center, then makes a lazy error on the basepaths to get caught in a rundown, then makes a clever hustle play to ensure David Wright makes it to second, neutralizing his mistake. It’s a roller coaster of emotions here, people.
9-2 through six and a half. Every Met starter, including the pitcher, has at least one hit. 15 runs in three games is good; two losses out of three to the baseball equivalent of office temps is not as good.
Things are moving quickly, like everyone on both teams wants to go home. Even Danny Graves can’t sustain a Rockies rally, inducing a GIDP in the eighth after two guys get on. He’s pretty lousy, though, by the way.
Bottom of the 9th, still 9-2. After a walk and a double, Graves strikes out two. After a walk and a single, it’s 9-3. The Reds knew what they were doing, all right – a General Manager hasn’t made such a wise move in Cincinnati since Arthur Carlson hired Andy Travis as program director. Ah, a popout ends it. A nice comfortable win to blur the dreadful vision of those first two games. A more-than-solid outing by Zambrano, a Mets lineup hitting as if they were playing in thin air, and a nice welcome back for me after I ignored MLC for too long. Life is so swell, everyone is so wonderful, and the Mets are . . . still pretty damn average. Sorry, I must have gotten some Rocky Mountain contact high for a second.
Sweet Fancy Moses on a Popsicle Stick
This is the lineup the AL East-leading and defending World Champion Boston Red Sox are running out against the Devil Rays this afternoon:
Johnny Damon CF
Edgar Renteria SS
David Ortiz DH
John Olerud 1B
Bill Mueller 3B
Kevin Millar LF
Doug Mirabelli C
Alex Cora 2B
Adam Stern RF
Holy Mary, Mother of God. I think the D-Rays lineup may be stronger. Nixon on the DL. Manny with the day off - I guess. Varitek not playing because Wakefield is pitching - and apparently has to throw a shutout to have a hope of winning. Wow. Just...wow.
--- Update ---
This Murdered Row has gone 0-for-9 with 5 k's against Ray starter Seth McClung. Seth McClung.
--- Update, The Sequel ---
In the top of the 5th, Alex Cora homered and Doug Mirabelli stole a base. Find a warm body and get your last lovemaking on, because if that's not a sign of the Apocalypse, then I'm the Archangel Gabriel.
Johnny Damon CF
Edgar Renteria SS
David Ortiz DH
John Olerud 1B
Bill Mueller 3B
Kevin Millar LF
Doug Mirabelli C
Alex Cora 2B
Adam Stern RF
Holy Mary, Mother of God. I think the D-Rays lineup may be stronger. Nixon on the DL. Manny with the day off - I guess. Varitek not playing because Wakefield is pitching - and apparently has to throw a shutout to have a hope of winning. Wow. Just...wow.
--- Update ---
This Murdered Row has gone 0-for-9 with 5 k's against Ray starter Seth McClung. Seth McClung.
--- Update, The Sequel ---
In the top of the 5th, Alex Cora homered and Doug Mirabelli stole a base. Find a warm body and get your last lovemaking on, because if that's not a sign of the Apocalypse, then I'm the Archangel Gabriel.
The Good, the Bad, and the Mannys
Games 99 & 100 - Red Sox
Devil Rays 4, Red Sox 3 (10)
Red Sox 10, Devil Rays 9 (10)
Record: 55-45
I'm not sure a late-July game against the Devil Rays can be fairly defined as a huge win, but last night's contest was among the most thrilling, aggravating, nerve-wracking, dissapointing, and ultimately stunning games of the season. Had the Sox lost, and I'd pretty much given myself over to that reality when the Rays went up 8-6 in the 8th, they'd have dropped into a tie with the Yankees, and been on the verge of being swept by Tampa Bay. They didn't, and the way they didn't was reminiscent in kind - though not in spiritual impact - to the 7.24.2004 season-defining win over Mariano Rivera and the Yanks.
It looked for a long time like the defining moment of this game would be the sickening sight of Carl Crawford's line drive off of Matt Clement's temple in the 3rd inning. The impact of the ball knocked Clement's feet off the ground as it caromed from his head into shallow left. The Sox' pitcher lay motionless for more than 5 minutes before being taken off the field on a cart. This morning, the Sox are reporting that Clement should recover fully, but the incident cast a pall over the game's middle innings - only a truly memorable conclusion managed to obscure it even slightly.
The Sox led, 5-1, when Clement left the game, and the emotional baggage of the right-hander's condition seemed to weigh heavily. The Rays plated 4 more runs in the bottom of the 3rd to tie the game at 5, and then the teams waded through the middle innings - the immortal Dewon Brazelton shutting down the Sox competely - before the Rays took a 6-5 lead in the 6th.
Billy Mueller's clutch 2-out hit in the top of the 7th tied the game at 6, but the Rays plated 2 more against Jeremi Gonzalez in the bottom of the same inning, blackening my mood and causing me to hurl a stream of expletives at Gonzalez' very being.
Even after Jason Varitek homered with 1 out in the top of the 9th, I was still scowling at the television, trying to capture the essence of my disgust with this team of underacheivers in preparation for blogging this morning. Even as Kevin Millar and then John Olerud singled to follow Varitek, my mood remained dark. I only grunted mild approval when Mueller doubled to right to score Adam Stern, running for Millar, to tie the game. And that mild approval quickly turned to more disgust for Dale Sveum when Olderdude was thrown out at the plate - could have been 2nd and 3rd, 1 out, but Sveum took a look at Olerud and saw Skeets Nehemiah.
Johnny Damon saved the game for the Sox in the bottom of the 9th, racing deep into the gap in left-center and sprawling against the fence to rob Jorge Cantu of a game-winning double. As Damon ran into the dugout, hair bobbing behind him, I finally smiled - "Hey, he's leading off the 10th for the Sox - that'd be a pretty cool combo."
And then, BOOM goes the dynamite. Damon backed up his great defensive effort with his 2nd homer in 2 nights, and the Sox held an improbable 9-8 lead. They plated another run when Jason Varitek connected for his 2nd extra-base hit in as many innings, and they needed it, as Curt Schilling's Excellent Bullpen Adventure continued in the bottom of the 10th with the winning run left standing on first. A bedside fist pump from me to match Schilling's, and the dark cloud was lifted. Sort of.
Lots of good in this game - not the least of which was the Sox' perseverance in the face of the Clement injury (and Trot Nixon's oblique strain in the same inning). Mike Myers pitched 2 scoreless innings before giving up a weak bloop double to Aubrey Huff. As expected, the offense was stellar before and after the Brazelton Lull. Tek was 2-3 with 3 walks. Damon and Millar had 3 hits each. Manny Ramirez hit another homer. Mueller had 2 incredibly clutch hits.
Plenty of bad, though, to balance the good. Looks like the Sox will be without Clement for a little while, and Nixon perhaps for longer. The Sox continue to run the bases like Helen Keller. Tony Graffanino became the latest in a much-too-long string of Sox to get picked off, and Sveum's ill-advised windmilling of the winter-time-molasses-slow Olerud in a clutch situation makes me long for the days of Wave 'Em in Wendall Kim. Jeremi Gonzalez just isn't very good, and Schilling continues to be off by thismuch - he left an 0-2 splitter up that Julio Lugo hit into left with 2 out in the 9th, and only Damon's sprinting catch on Cantu's subsequent drive bailed him out. And, in a minor piffle of a negative, Adam Hyzdu stinks on ice, regardless of how you pronounce his name.
Finally, there was a whole lot of Manny last night. Ramirez continued his recent slugging with a 2-run 1st inning bomb, but then he meandered about the premises like Charlie Babbitt looking for Judge Wapner. First, he coasted after Aubrey Huff's pop-up to left in the 6th, ensuring a double for the Rays when he tried to barehand the bouncing ball and then nonchalantly flipped it back to the infield. Then, in the top of the 10th, he jogged down the line after grounding into a tailor-made double play, and was rewarded for it when the Rays middle infield remembered that they played for Tampa Bay. I've defended Manny in the past from the Boston media's barely disguised contempt, but there's no denying that he spent long stretches of this game simply dogging it. And someone in the clubhouse should call him out for it - especially in the wake of his Capistrano Salmon-like annual whining about not being comfortable in Boston because the attention. Wake the fuck up, Rainman. We don't expect you to be Charlie Hustle, but we ask that you at least fake some effort for the $20m you're banking this year. It's almost as if the game comes too easy to Manny - that he gets bored this time of year so he manufactures some reason to care.
For the first time, though, there's another Manny story. Last night marked the major league debut of highly touted right-hander Manny Delcarmen, and he dazzled - blowing away his first major league batter with 95+ mph heat and recording a 1-2-3 frame in the 8th. Maybe John Kerry was right - help is on the way. A pitching positive - that's refreshing.
4 days to the trade deadline - and the Sox suddenly have lots of needs. At least I get to spend today in a good mood.
Devil Rays 4, Red Sox 3 (10)
Red Sox 10, Devil Rays 9 (10)
Record: 55-45
I'm not sure a late-July game against the Devil Rays can be fairly defined as a huge win, but last night's contest was among the most thrilling, aggravating, nerve-wracking, dissapointing, and ultimately stunning games of the season. Had the Sox lost, and I'd pretty much given myself over to that reality when the Rays went up 8-6 in the 8th, they'd have dropped into a tie with the Yankees, and been on the verge of being swept by Tampa Bay. They didn't, and the way they didn't was reminiscent in kind - though not in spiritual impact - to the 7.24.2004 season-defining win over Mariano Rivera and the Yanks.
It looked for a long time like the defining moment of this game would be the sickening sight of Carl Crawford's line drive off of Matt Clement's temple in the 3rd inning. The impact of the ball knocked Clement's feet off the ground as it caromed from his head into shallow left. The Sox' pitcher lay motionless for more than 5 minutes before being taken off the field on a cart. This morning, the Sox are reporting that Clement should recover fully, but the incident cast a pall over the game's middle innings - only a truly memorable conclusion managed to obscure it even slightly.
The Sox led, 5-1, when Clement left the game, and the emotional baggage of the right-hander's condition seemed to weigh heavily. The Rays plated 4 more runs in the bottom of the 3rd to tie the game at 5, and then the teams waded through the middle innings - the immortal Dewon Brazelton shutting down the Sox competely - before the Rays took a 6-5 lead in the 6th.
Billy Mueller's clutch 2-out hit in the top of the 7th tied the game at 6, but the Rays plated 2 more against Jeremi Gonzalez in the bottom of the same inning, blackening my mood and causing me to hurl a stream of expletives at Gonzalez' very being.
Even after Jason Varitek homered with 1 out in the top of the 9th, I was still scowling at the television, trying to capture the essence of my disgust with this team of underacheivers in preparation for blogging this morning. Even as Kevin Millar and then John Olerud singled to follow Varitek, my mood remained dark. I only grunted mild approval when Mueller doubled to right to score Adam Stern, running for Millar, to tie the game. And that mild approval quickly turned to more disgust for Dale Sveum when Olderdude was thrown out at the plate - could have been 2nd and 3rd, 1 out, but Sveum took a look at Olerud and saw Skeets Nehemiah.
Johnny Damon saved the game for the Sox in the bottom of the 9th, racing deep into the gap in left-center and sprawling against the fence to rob Jorge Cantu of a game-winning double. As Damon ran into the dugout, hair bobbing behind him, I finally smiled - "Hey, he's leading off the 10th for the Sox - that'd be a pretty cool combo."
And then, BOOM goes the dynamite. Damon backed up his great defensive effort with his 2nd homer in 2 nights, and the Sox held an improbable 9-8 lead. They plated another run when Jason Varitek connected for his 2nd extra-base hit in as many innings, and they needed it, as Curt Schilling's Excellent Bullpen Adventure continued in the bottom of the 10th with the winning run left standing on first. A bedside fist pump from me to match Schilling's, and the dark cloud was lifted. Sort of.
Lots of good in this game - not the least of which was the Sox' perseverance in the face of the Clement injury (and Trot Nixon's oblique strain in the same inning). Mike Myers pitched 2 scoreless innings before giving up a weak bloop double to Aubrey Huff. As expected, the offense was stellar before and after the Brazelton Lull. Tek was 2-3 with 3 walks. Damon and Millar had 3 hits each. Manny Ramirez hit another homer. Mueller had 2 incredibly clutch hits.
Plenty of bad, though, to balance the good. Looks like the Sox will be without Clement for a little while, and Nixon perhaps for longer. The Sox continue to run the bases like Helen Keller. Tony Graffanino became the latest in a much-too-long string of Sox to get picked off, and Sveum's ill-advised windmilling of the winter-time-molasses-slow Olerud in a clutch situation makes me long for the days of Wave 'Em in Wendall Kim. Jeremi Gonzalez just isn't very good, and Schilling continues to be off by thismuch - he left an 0-2 splitter up that Julio Lugo hit into left with 2 out in the 9th, and only Damon's sprinting catch on Cantu's subsequent drive bailed him out. And, in a minor piffle of a negative, Adam Hyzdu stinks on ice, regardless of how you pronounce his name.
Finally, there was a whole lot of Manny last night. Ramirez continued his recent slugging with a 2-run 1st inning bomb, but then he meandered about the premises like Charlie Babbitt looking for Judge Wapner. First, he coasted after Aubrey Huff's pop-up to left in the 6th, ensuring a double for the Rays when he tried to barehand the bouncing ball and then nonchalantly flipped it back to the infield. Then, in the top of the 10th, he jogged down the line after grounding into a tailor-made double play, and was rewarded for it when the Rays middle infield remembered that they played for Tampa Bay. I've defended Manny in the past from the Boston media's barely disguised contempt, but there's no denying that he spent long stretches of this game simply dogging it. And someone in the clubhouse should call him out for it - especially in the wake of his Capistrano Salmon-like annual whining about not being comfortable in Boston because the attention. Wake the fuck up, Rainman. We don't expect you to be Charlie Hustle, but we ask that you at least fake some effort for the $20m you're banking this year. It's almost as if the game comes too easy to Manny - that he gets bored this time of year so he manufactures some reason to care.
For the first time, though, there's another Manny story. Last night marked the major league debut of highly touted right-hander Manny Delcarmen, and he dazzled - blowing away his first major league batter with 95+ mph heat and recording a 1-2-3 frame in the 8th. Maybe John Kerry was right - help is on the way. A pitching positive - that's refreshing.
4 days to the trade deadline - and the Sox suddenly have lots of needs. At least I get to spend today in a good mood.
Sunday, July 24, 2005
Pleasantly Ambivalent
Games 95 through 98 - Red Sox
Red Sox 6, Chicago White Sox 5
White Sox 8, Red Sox 4
Red Sox 3, White Sox 0
White Sox 6, Red Sox 4
Record: 54-44
I'm a bundle of contradictions this evening. The Sox lost today, but I'm moderately pleased with a split against the league-leading ChiSox. The Sox are in first place, but I'm mostly wondering how far they'd be in front if they hadn't played to such an indifferent pace. I cringe at the thought of Alex Cora getting meaningful late-inning at-bats several times in the last week, but I have no good suggestions regarding better options on the current (and please, Theo, make it temporary) roster.
This whole season's been like this for me. Pre-October, if the morning papers revealed the Sox up 1 1/2 games on the Yankees in late July, I'd vascillate between excitement and terror. Now, I spin wildly from content to exasperated - I'm no longer waiting for the collapse to come, but I'm still mildly disappointed.
Lots of new faces on the Sox roster, as Alex Cora, Adam Hyzdu, and Tony Graffanino joined the squad, with Alan Embree leaving for good, Kevin Youkilis going to Pawtucket, and Eeyore hitting the DL. Cora's a fine defensive player, and Graffanino's one of those solid-if-not-spectacular glue guys that help fill a 25-man roster - he won't hurt the team, if nothing else. Hyzdu's good for having an interesting last name that might be useful in a blog headline at some point. "Growing Like Hyzdu", for example. "Do Your Ass Cheeks Get Numb From Sitting on the Bench for Weeks at a Time? Hyzdu." Feel free to play along at home.
Even as I'm mildly alarmed at the mediocre nature of the Sox bench at the moment, I refrain from panic, as I feel confident that the Sox front office will make moves to solidify the roster for the stretch run. Lots of talk about A.J. Burnett, but I've never been sold. The best move for the Sox in terms of the starting rotation is clearly to get Curt Schilling ready to take a turn every 5th day - there's not a free agent starter available who'll provide a bigger boost. Schilling in the rotation assumes that the Sox get a quality arm in the back of the pen, so that's where I'd like to see Theo focus. I don't have to get into the value of guys like Dave Roberts on last year's roster - and this year's in woefully lacking. In Theo We Trust.
It was bittersweet to see Embree kicked to the curb relatively unceremoniously. In the parlance of SoSH, he was 1 of the 25, and for that, I'll be eternally grateful. In the remorseless calculus of high-stakes professional sports, though, he was simply no longer contributing to this team's success - in fact, he was preventing it in many cases. And that's the hard truth that both he and the front office had to recognize. So long, Hombre - hope that you can lift your arm to comb your hair when you're 45.
Guess a few moments on the series with the ChiSox are warranted at this point. For all the hullaballoo surrounding the Southsiders, you can color me unimpressed. Yes, they pitch well in all phases - solid starters, strong bullpen, which will make them a threat in any short series. They just don't have the sticks to scare anyone with a good pitching staff. And Ozzie Guillen strikes me as the kind of guy who's just insane enough to do something stupid under white-hot post-season pressure. Fine team, but they don't scare me. (Crow tastes very good with a pinch of cayenne and a pat of garlic butter, for future reference.)
If not for a random and highly unexpected appearance from Bad Wake (which followed 6 innings of Very Good Wake), the Sox could easily taken 3 of 4 from the Pale Hose. It's good to see Manny swinging the bat like a demon, and very good to see Wade Miller go 7 strong in a 3-0 shutout win. The bench, as stated above, is a bit of a drag on the offense , which made a difference in today's game, as Cora batted with 2 on and 1 out, and waived (EDIT: should be waved - talk about a Freudian slip) impotently at a Cliff Politte fastball. All in all though, today was a shoulder shrug. The Sox went on the road against the best team in the league, record-wise, and gained ground on both their closest pursuers. Not a bad weekend in the Windy City.
Red Sox 6, Chicago White Sox 5
White Sox 8, Red Sox 4
Red Sox 3, White Sox 0
White Sox 6, Red Sox 4
Record: 54-44
I'm a bundle of contradictions this evening. The Sox lost today, but I'm moderately pleased with a split against the league-leading ChiSox. The Sox are in first place, but I'm mostly wondering how far they'd be in front if they hadn't played to such an indifferent pace. I cringe at the thought of Alex Cora getting meaningful late-inning at-bats several times in the last week, but I have no good suggestions regarding better options on the current (and please, Theo, make it temporary) roster.
This whole season's been like this for me. Pre-October, if the morning papers revealed the Sox up 1 1/2 games on the Yankees in late July, I'd vascillate between excitement and terror. Now, I spin wildly from content to exasperated - I'm no longer waiting for the collapse to come, but I'm still mildly disappointed.
Lots of new faces on the Sox roster, as Alex Cora, Adam Hyzdu, and Tony Graffanino joined the squad, with Alan Embree leaving for good, Kevin Youkilis going to Pawtucket, and Eeyore hitting the DL. Cora's a fine defensive player, and Graffanino's one of those solid-if-not-spectacular glue guys that help fill a 25-man roster - he won't hurt the team, if nothing else. Hyzdu's good for having an interesting last name that might be useful in a blog headline at some point. "Growing Like Hyzdu", for example. "Do Your Ass Cheeks Get Numb From Sitting on the Bench for Weeks at a Time? Hyzdu." Feel free to play along at home.
Even as I'm mildly alarmed at the mediocre nature of the Sox bench at the moment, I refrain from panic, as I feel confident that the Sox front office will make moves to solidify the roster for the stretch run. Lots of talk about A.J. Burnett, but I've never been sold. The best move for the Sox in terms of the starting rotation is clearly to get Curt Schilling ready to take a turn every 5th day - there's not a free agent starter available who'll provide a bigger boost. Schilling in the rotation assumes that the Sox get a quality arm in the back of the pen, so that's where I'd like to see Theo focus. I don't have to get into the value of guys like Dave Roberts on last year's roster - and this year's in woefully lacking. In Theo We Trust.
It was bittersweet to see Embree kicked to the curb relatively unceremoniously. In the parlance of SoSH, he was 1 of the 25, and for that, I'll be eternally grateful. In the remorseless calculus of high-stakes professional sports, though, he was simply no longer contributing to this team's success - in fact, he was preventing it in many cases. And that's the hard truth that both he and the front office had to recognize. So long, Hombre - hope that you can lift your arm to comb your hair when you're 45.
Guess a few moments on the series with the ChiSox are warranted at this point. For all the hullaballoo surrounding the Southsiders, you can color me unimpressed. Yes, they pitch well in all phases - solid starters, strong bullpen, which will make them a threat in any short series. They just don't have the sticks to scare anyone with a good pitching staff. And Ozzie Guillen strikes me as the kind of guy who's just insane enough to do something stupid under white-hot post-season pressure. Fine team, but they don't scare me. (Crow tastes very good with a pinch of cayenne and a pat of garlic butter, for future reference.)
If not for a random and highly unexpected appearance from Bad Wake (which followed 6 innings of Very Good Wake), the Sox could easily taken 3 of 4 from the Pale Hose. It's good to see Manny swinging the bat like a demon, and very good to see Wade Miller go 7 strong in a 3-0 shutout win. The bench, as stated above, is a bit of a drag on the offense , which made a difference in today's game, as Cora batted with 2 on and 1 out, and waived (EDIT: should be waved - talk about a Freudian slip) impotently at a Cliff Politte fastball. All in all though, today was a shoulder shrug. The Sox went on the road against the best team in the league, record-wise, and gained ground on both their closest pursuers. Not a bad weekend in the Windy City.
Thursday, July 21, 2005
Stop It, You're Embarrassing Yourself
Games 93 & 94 - Red Sox
Red Sox 5, Devil Rays 2
Red Sox 9, Devil Rays 4
Record: 52-42
Not much to say about the final 2 games in Fenway against the Rays: the Sox are supposed to beat the Rays, and the Sox beat the Rays. Blah, blah, blah.
No, I join you tonight in awe of the worst pair of announcers I've heard yet this season on Extra Innings. The White Sox network is covering the telecast from U.S. Cellular, and though we're only 1+ inning into the contest, I'm dumbstruck by the egregious homerism displayed by Hawk Harrelson and Darrin Jackson. Their synchronized "Stretch...Stretch...Put it on the Board...YES!" after Carl Everett's first-inning longball was possibly the low-water mark in my baseball viewing experience this season. These guys make Michael Kay sound like John Jay.
How I long for Jerry Remy's New England burr, or at least Fred Manfra's even-handed tones. More to come tomorrow, unless I hang myself after having to listen to this dreck for 3 hours.
--- Update ----
I solved the problem, at least for most of the game, by turning off the sound and cranking up the Dave Matthews Band's new effort, Stand Up. Killed 2 birds with 1 stone, as I hadn't heard the album yet. Mini-review after 1 listen: darker, edgier DMB with a handful of top-notch tunes and an overall very solid effort. I think it'll grow to become one of my favorite DMB records.
I did have to listen to Hawk and DJ from the 8th inning on, however, and am pleased to report that their grating reportage led to my extreme satisfaction when the Sox held on to win. I might hate the ChiSox more than the A's after last night.
Red Sox 5, Devil Rays 2
Red Sox 9, Devil Rays 4
Record: 52-42
Not much to say about the final 2 games in Fenway against the Rays: the Sox are supposed to beat the Rays, and the Sox beat the Rays. Blah, blah, blah.
No, I join you tonight in awe of the worst pair of announcers I've heard yet this season on Extra Innings. The White Sox network is covering the telecast from U.S. Cellular, and though we're only 1+ inning into the contest, I'm dumbstruck by the egregious homerism displayed by Hawk Harrelson and Darrin Jackson. Their synchronized "Stretch...Stretch...Put it on the Board...YES!" after Carl Everett's first-inning longball was possibly the low-water mark in my baseball viewing experience this season. These guys make Michael Kay sound like John Jay.
How I long for Jerry Remy's New England burr, or at least Fred Manfra's even-handed tones. More to come tomorrow, unless I hang myself after having to listen to this dreck for 3 hours.
--- Update ----
I solved the problem, at least for most of the game, by turning off the sound and cranking up the Dave Matthews Band's new effort, Stand Up. Killed 2 birds with 1 stone, as I hadn't heard the album yet. Mini-review after 1 listen: darker, edgier DMB with a handful of top-notch tunes and an overall very solid effort. I think it'll grow to become one of my favorite DMB records.
I did have to listen to Hawk and DJ from the 8th inning on, however, and am pleased to report that their grating reportage led to my extreme satisfaction when the Sox held on to win. I might hate the ChiSox more than the A's after last night.
Pure Gravy
Game 95 - Mets
Mets 12, Padres 0
Record: 49-46
If you'd told me that this game, featuring starters Jake "The Amp" Peavy and Kaz "For Alarm" Ishii, would end in a 12-0 score, I wouldn't have been all that surprised. The Mets were due for an offensive recoil after cleating the dish ten times in two games (that's a lot for them), Peavy's an All-Star, and Ishii's been less consistent than a he/she. If you'd asked me to wager on which team inked in 12 and which laid the bagel, I'd have put a quick hundred on San Diego 12, New York 0. It was that obvious.
Good thing I only wager lager.
Even as I brimmed with confidence towards the end of this morning's post, I was putting the primer coat on the big L painted into today's entry in the Mets' schedule. And the first couple of frames supported what I considered realistically minimal expectations. While Peavy pitched two perfect innings to start, Kaz allowed a few runners but escaped unscathed. When the first two Padres reached to start the 3rd, that painful, uneasy feeling (also a little-known Eagles B-side) began creeping in, but Mark Loretta somehow bunted into a double play. (Boy, did the Padres leave their A-game in SoCal.) Time to expect the unexpected.
Doug Mientkiewicz, out on strikes more often than Lech Walesa lately, hit a home run to lead off the bottom of the third. Hmmm.
In the fifth, the Mets picked up four runs on a two-run job by Ramon Castro (!), a walk of Ishii (!), a Reyes single/SB/errant throw, and a Mike Cameron double (.). (No exclamation point for Cameron, though he has been slumping bit of late.) 5-0, which is when I got the e-mail from Jerry about a sweep. Which, not coincidentally, was when I started yelling viciously in Jerry's direction across the Potomac.
Bottom 6, and 5-0 became 12-0 just like that. After a couple of hits to lead off, Peavy was pulled for newly acquired ex-Yank reliever Paul Quantrill, who provided "relief" akin to chunky-style hemhorroid cream. Four singles, a double, a walk, and two flyballs later -- after every starting position player except Beltran had recorded a hit in the inning (and Beltran hit a sac fly), it was over to the point that I was thinking about the sweep.
Willie emptied the bench as the PA blared "Send in the Clowns," and the rockin' trio of "Blow Your" Koo, "Ring My" Bell, and "Dig My" Graves composed funeral dirges for the downtrod Pad Squad. 12-0, Mets. I just didn't see it coming.
A nearly perfect series for the denizens of Mets Township, capped off with this whitewashing of a division-leading team. The erstwhile Trolley Dodgers come rolling into town tomorrow night; after that, the Mets hit the road for two stops in Synthetic Statistics Stadia (Coors & Minute Maid; the "shandy circuit", if you will.) Most of the Metropolitans -- and certainly the team as a whole -- have experienced tremendous difficulty turning flashes of offensive spark into sustained hot streaks; the time is now, with the trade deadline 10 days away, the division lead visible to the naked eye, and some hitter-friendly venues on the itinerary, to keep the bats sufficiently warmed and the run support piling up.
Nothing like a pretty petty winning streak to get the fans all fired up again; it may not be equal parts rational expectation and blind optimism, but it's closer to even than in delusions past. Remember, all you Townshippers, what Lenin said: "The most important thing when ill, is to never lose heart. " And remember, all you Mets, what Lennon said: "Don't let me down."
Mets 12, Padres 0
Record: 49-46
If you'd told me that this game, featuring starters Jake "The Amp" Peavy and Kaz "For Alarm" Ishii, would end in a 12-0 score, I wouldn't have been all that surprised. The Mets were due for an offensive recoil after cleating the dish ten times in two games (that's a lot for them), Peavy's an All-Star, and Ishii's been less consistent than a he/she. If you'd asked me to wager on which team inked in 12 and which laid the bagel, I'd have put a quick hundred on San Diego 12, New York 0. It was that obvious.
Good thing I only wager lager.
Even as I brimmed with confidence towards the end of this morning's post, I was putting the primer coat on the big L painted into today's entry in the Mets' schedule. And the first couple of frames supported what I considered realistically minimal expectations. While Peavy pitched two perfect innings to start, Kaz allowed a few runners but escaped unscathed. When the first two Padres reached to start the 3rd, that painful, uneasy feeling (also a little-known Eagles B-side) began creeping in, but Mark Loretta somehow bunted into a double play. (Boy, did the Padres leave their A-game in SoCal.) Time to expect the unexpected.
Doug Mientkiewicz, out on strikes more often than Lech Walesa lately, hit a home run to lead off the bottom of the third. Hmmm.
In the fifth, the Mets picked up four runs on a two-run job by Ramon Castro (!), a walk of Ishii (!), a Reyes single/SB/errant throw, and a Mike Cameron double (.). (No exclamation point for Cameron, though he has been slumping bit of late.) 5-0, which is when I got the e-mail from Jerry about a sweep. Which, not coincidentally, was when I started yelling viciously in Jerry's direction across the Potomac.
Bottom 6, and 5-0 became 12-0 just like that. After a couple of hits to lead off, Peavy was pulled for newly acquired ex-Yank reliever Paul Quantrill, who provided "relief" akin to chunky-style hemhorroid cream. Four singles, a double, a walk, and two flyballs later -- after every starting position player except Beltran had recorded a hit in the inning (and Beltran hit a sac fly), it was over to the point that I was thinking about the sweep.
Willie emptied the bench as the PA blared "Send in the Clowns," and the rockin' trio of "Blow Your" Koo, "Ring My" Bell, and "Dig My" Graves composed funeral dirges for the downtrod Pad Squad. 12-0, Mets. I just didn't see it coming.
A nearly perfect series for the denizens of Mets Township, capped off with this whitewashing of a division-leading team. The erstwhile Trolley Dodgers come rolling into town tomorrow night; after that, the Mets hit the road for two stops in Synthetic Statistics Stadia (Coors & Minute Maid; the "shandy circuit", if you will.) Most of the Metropolitans -- and certainly the team as a whole -- have experienced tremendous difficulty turning flashes of offensive spark into sustained hot streaks; the time is now, with the trade deadline 10 days away, the division lead visible to the naked eye, and some hitter-friendly venues on the itinerary, to keep the bats sufficiently warmed and the run support piling up.
Nothing like a pretty petty winning streak to get the fans all fired up again; it may not be equal parts rational expectation and blind optimism, but it's closer to even than in delusions past. Remember, all you Townshippers, what Lenin said: "The most important thing when ill, is to never lose heart. " And remember, all you Mets, what Lennon said: "Don't let me down."
Keeping the Faith
Games 90 through 94 - Mets
Braves 2, Mets 1
Braves 3, Mets 0
Mets 8, Braves 1
Mets 3, Padres 1
Mets 7, Padres 3
Record: 48-46
Standings: 4th place in NL East, 5.5 GB Washington; 4 GB Red Sox
My sincere apologies for my lack of input lately, and I offer kudos to my cohort for not chastising me more publicly. I hope the usual Met-readers were properly re-directed to Jerry's great take on the Mets over at the Wheelhouse yesterday; ignore the inane non-Met-related Comments, but take Jerry's fine points regarding this C-level performace. In the meantime, I am back. No, please, you're too kind.
The last few games have offered plenty to enjoy for us the viewing audience. I've been able to take in every pitch of the last two nights' games against the Pad Squad, and I've been treated to heroics and healthy play by the hometown nine. I've said it before and I'll say it again; Extra Innings + TiVo is sheer brilliance. Surf 'n' Turf. A shot and a beer. A ménage à trois without the inevitable apologies for not pulling your weight. You can't put a price tag on being able to rewind key moments, like when Francis X. Healy blurts, "I'd actually rather Reyes were more aggressive up there," but if you could, it'd have to be more than the $4.95 I pay a month.
Tuesday night featured more of the light-hitting offense that's keeping the Mets from accelerating within the division, but outstanding pitching by Kris Benson and the pen, plus two long balls -- one early from Cliff Floyd and one in the bottom of the 11th by Chris Woodward -- saved the game. You can't say enough about the pinch-hitting this team's recorded, and credit Willie Randolph for timely usage of the bench; on Tuesday, he called Gerald Williams back from the on-deck circle when Mike Piazza singled, running G-Dub for Piazza and letting Woodward step in to pinch-hit. Game over. Sure, sometimes you luck out in these scenarios, but Willie's strategies when it comes to tweaking lineups mid-game dwarf his apparent acumen in the bullpen arena.
Last night Tom Glavine outfired Woody Williams in a pitching match-up that had us longing for the mid-90's -- both the era and the fastball speed. "Outfired" is probably the wrong term for these two slowball specialists, but Glavine had enough in the ol' whip to produce a few strikeouts to his one walk, and it proved another solid start for the recently sharp rotation. Meanwhile, the lineup scratched out some runs, drove the ball for power, and took what the Padres' D gave them to bang out seven runs. Carlos Beltran (lookee there) and Mike Piazza went deep (now more than ever, a great pleasure to see it), Jose Reyes burned them at every turn with his speed, and the Mets' parlayed Xavier Nady's losing a flyball in the moon into the inning that would carry them to the win.
Tom Glavine said it the other day, in reference to not wanting to be traded, and I believe it: in terms of talent, this is one of the best teams in baseball. They're mediocre through and through in their results, which is maddening, but brief glimpses like we've seen in the last three games -- against playoff-contending teams -- make me a believer. Granted, these wins have come on the heels of me throwing up my hands (and my lunch) at their previous patheticism. So take it with a grain of salt, but to butcher the musings of another Whit-man, I see great things in the Mets. They're our team. And may they overtake those Sons of Walt known as "America's Team."
Braves 2, Mets 1
Braves 3, Mets 0
Mets 8, Braves 1
Mets 3, Padres 1
Mets 7, Padres 3
Record: 48-46
Standings: 4th place in NL East, 5.5 GB Washington; 4 GB Red Sox
My sincere apologies for my lack of input lately, and I offer kudos to my cohort for not chastising me more publicly. I hope the usual Met-readers were properly re-directed to Jerry's great take on the Mets over at the Wheelhouse yesterday; ignore the inane non-Met-related Comments, but take Jerry's fine points regarding this C-level performace. In the meantime, I am back. No, please, you're too kind.
The last few games have offered plenty to enjoy for us the viewing audience. I've been able to take in every pitch of the last two nights' games against the Pad Squad, and I've been treated to heroics and healthy play by the hometown nine. I've said it before and I'll say it again; Extra Innings + TiVo is sheer brilliance. Surf 'n' Turf. A shot and a beer. A ménage à trois without the inevitable apologies for not pulling your weight. You can't put a price tag on being able to rewind key moments, like when Francis X. Healy blurts, "I'd actually rather Reyes were more aggressive up there," but if you could, it'd have to be more than the $4.95 I pay a month.
Tuesday night featured more of the light-hitting offense that's keeping the Mets from accelerating within the division, but outstanding pitching by Kris Benson and the pen, plus two long balls -- one early from Cliff Floyd and one in the bottom of the 11th by Chris Woodward -- saved the game. You can't say enough about the pinch-hitting this team's recorded, and credit Willie Randolph for timely usage of the bench; on Tuesday, he called Gerald Williams back from the on-deck circle when Mike Piazza singled, running G-Dub for Piazza and letting Woodward step in to pinch-hit. Game over. Sure, sometimes you luck out in these scenarios, but Willie's strategies when it comes to tweaking lineups mid-game dwarf his apparent acumen in the bullpen arena.
Last night Tom Glavine outfired Woody Williams in a pitching match-up that had us longing for the mid-90's -- both the era and the fastball speed. "Outfired" is probably the wrong term for these two slowball specialists, but Glavine had enough in the ol' whip to produce a few strikeouts to his one walk, and it proved another solid start for the recently sharp rotation. Meanwhile, the lineup scratched out some runs, drove the ball for power, and took what the Padres' D gave them to bang out seven runs. Carlos Beltran (lookee there) and Mike Piazza went deep (now more than ever, a great pleasure to see it), Jose Reyes burned them at every turn with his speed, and the Mets' parlayed Xavier Nady's losing a flyball in the moon into the inning that would carry them to the win.
Tom Glavine said it the other day, in reference to not wanting to be traded, and I believe it: in terms of talent, this is one of the best teams in baseball. They're mediocre through and through in their results, which is maddening, but brief glimpses like we've seen in the last three games -- against playoff-contending teams -- make me a believer. Granted, these wins have come on the heels of me throwing up my hands (and my lunch) at their previous patheticism. So take it with a grain of salt, but to butcher the musings of another Whit-man, I see great things in the Mets. They're our team. And may they overtake those Sons of Walt known as "America's Team."
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
No New Tale to Tell
Games 91 & 92 - Red Sox
Yankees 5, Red Sox 3
Devil Rays 3, Red Sox 1
Record: 50-42
"Fuck you, Jeter," I muttered at my television as I reached for the remote control. The Yankee shortstop was happily pounding his fist into his glove after the Sox fell on Sunday night, blowing a chance to salvage a series split. Talk about displaced anger. I had no beef with Jeter, it was the sorry, no-account Red Sox at whom I was livid.
The Sox had the bases loaded with nobody out, trailing 5-3 in the bottom of the 9th after a series of hits against Mariano Rivera. I silently implored Alex Cora - not exactly the optimal choice in that situation - to do no harm. "Just make a productive out," I whispered under my breath, figuring that a fly ball would make it a 1-run game, or a bouncer to the right side would only yield 1 out with Cora's speed. Instead, a rally-killing 5-2-3 double play, followed immediately by my bellowed, "That was not a PRODUCTIVE FUCKING OUT," followed equally quickly by the unmistakeable sound of my older daughter opening her bedroom door.
Cora was a goat, but the fact that the Sox only got 1 run on 3 hits in 6+ innings against Al Leiter means that every man in the lineup did his share of bleating. Al Leiter, who had more walks than K's coming into the game, struck out 8 Sox batters while walking only 2. Al Leiter, who averaged less than 5 innings per start with a 6+ ERA, made the AL's best offense (in name only, at this point) look like the Washington Nationals. Al Leiter, Exhibit 34903 for the people's case against the half-assed Boston Red Sox.
The Sox are 6-12 in their last 18 games, and losers of 4 of 5 at home since the All-Star break. They've relinquished first place in the division to the Yankees, and are at this very moment making Casey Fossum look like a world-beater. The good people at SoSH are working hard to contain the Chicken Littles, but this little outpost of the Nation couldn't be any more disgusted. The only, only silver lining at the moment is my certainty that the team the Sox are running out to the field every day right now is markedly different than the one we'll see in less than 2 weeks. Theo Epstein's not a whiny fanboy, but even he's got to be more than a bit nonplussed about the way his team's performed this season. Of note though, is the fact that the Sox were 51-41 at this point last year. I guess that worked out okay.
Yankees 5, Red Sox 3
Devil Rays 3, Red Sox 1
Record: 50-42
"Fuck you, Jeter," I muttered at my television as I reached for the remote control. The Yankee shortstop was happily pounding his fist into his glove after the Sox fell on Sunday night, blowing a chance to salvage a series split. Talk about displaced anger. I had no beef with Jeter, it was the sorry, no-account Red Sox at whom I was livid.
The Sox had the bases loaded with nobody out, trailing 5-3 in the bottom of the 9th after a series of hits against Mariano Rivera. I silently implored Alex Cora - not exactly the optimal choice in that situation - to do no harm. "Just make a productive out," I whispered under my breath, figuring that a fly ball would make it a 1-run game, or a bouncer to the right side would only yield 1 out with Cora's speed. Instead, a rally-killing 5-2-3 double play, followed immediately by my bellowed, "That was not a PRODUCTIVE FUCKING OUT," followed equally quickly by the unmistakeable sound of my older daughter opening her bedroom door.
Cora was a goat, but the fact that the Sox only got 1 run on 3 hits in 6+ innings against Al Leiter means that every man in the lineup did his share of bleating. Al Leiter, who had more walks than K's coming into the game, struck out 8 Sox batters while walking only 2. Al Leiter, who averaged less than 5 innings per start with a 6+ ERA, made the AL's best offense (in name only, at this point) look like the Washington Nationals. Al Leiter, Exhibit 34903 for the people's case against the half-assed Boston Red Sox.
The Sox are 6-12 in their last 18 games, and losers of 4 of 5 at home since the All-Star break. They've relinquished first place in the division to the Yankees, and are at this very moment making Casey Fossum look like a world-beater. The good people at SoSH are working hard to contain the Chicken Littles, but this little outpost of the Nation couldn't be any more disgusted. The only, only silver lining at the moment is my certainty that the team the Sox are running out to the field every day right now is markedly different than the one we'll see in less than 2 weeks. Theo Epstein's not a whiny fanboy, but even he's got to be more than a bit nonplussed about the way his team's performed this season. Of note though, is the fact that the Sox were 51-41 at this point last year. I guess that worked out okay.
Sunday, July 17, 2005
Pretenders
Game 90 - Red Sox
Yankees 7, Red Sox 4
Record: 50-40
A few random observations while wondering why Willie Randolph took Pedro out after 6 innings (and only 61 pitches) of 2-hit ball:
There's no such thing as a must-win game in mid-July. That said, if the Sox lose tonight to the Yankees with Al Leiter taking the hill in pinstripes, I predict some shit gets broken in my living room, and hopefully in Theo Epstein's office.
The Sox are keeping their divisional opponents in the race at a time when both the Orioles and Yankees have major challenges with pitching depth. With rumors abounding regarding both teams' efforts to bolster their weaknesses, the Sox seem certain to regret their recent 6-10 run. Once again, it's as if they're bored after last year. Comparing the Sox lineup against the Yanks and O's, it's hard to fathom how the division is so close. Let's look closer:
C - Varitek (BOS), Posada (NYY), Fasano/Gil (BAL): With Javy Lopez hurt and Posada showing his age, this one's a clear advantage to the Sox.
1B - Millar/Olerud (BOS), Martinez/Giambi (NYY), Palmeiro/Gibbons (BAL): Question marks abound in this comparison, but based upon current production, slight edge to the Yankees.
2B - Bellhorn (BOS), Cano (NYY), Roberts (BAL): Brian Roberts is an MVP candidate - easy edge to the O's.
SS - Renteria (BOS), Jeter (NYY), Tejada (BAL): Jeter's having a terrific season, but Miguel Tejada's the best shortstop in baseball right now.
3B - Mueller (BOS), Rodriguez (NYY), Mora (BAL): A-Rod's a prick, but he's killing the ball.
LF - Ramirez (BOS), Matsui (NYY), Bigbie (BAL): As dangerous as Matsui is, he's no Manny Ramirez.
CF - Damon (BOS), Williams/Cabrera (NYY), Matos (BAL): Possibly the biggest incremental difference between the teams. Damon's head and shoulders above the others.
RF - Nixon (BOS), Sheffield (NYY), Sosa (BAL): Sheffield gets the nod over Nixon, but not by as much as first glance might suppose.
DH - Ortiz (BOS), Giambi, et al (NYY), Palmeiro, et al (BAL): Landslide for Papi.
So the tally, 4 for Boston (and none are even close), 3 for the Yankees, but only A-Rod is a clear differentiator, 2 for the O's. Even where the Sox trail the Yankees and Orioles, their talent is in the top half of the league, with the exception of Bellhorn. And they drift with the slightest of margins.
The title of today's entry refers both to the Sox' outlook for another long playoff run and to the great song by the band of the same name, "Middle of the Road," which is sadly descriptive of the Sox season to date.
Yankees 7, Red Sox 4
Record: 50-40
A few random observations while wondering why Willie Randolph took Pedro out after 6 innings (and only 61 pitches) of 2-hit ball:
There's no such thing as a must-win game in mid-July. That said, if the Sox lose tonight to the Yankees with Al Leiter taking the hill in pinstripes, I predict some shit gets broken in my living room, and hopefully in Theo Epstein's office.
The Sox are keeping their divisional opponents in the race at a time when both the Orioles and Yankees have major challenges with pitching depth. With rumors abounding regarding both teams' efforts to bolster their weaknesses, the Sox seem certain to regret their recent 6-10 run. Once again, it's as if they're bored after last year. Comparing the Sox lineup against the Yanks and O's, it's hard to fathom how the division is so close. Let's look closer:
C - Varitek (BOS), Posada (NYY), Fasano/Gil (BAL): With Javy Lopez hurt and Posada showing his age, this one's a clear advantage to the Sox.
1B - Millar/Olerud (BOS), Martinez/Giambi (NYY), Palmeiro/Gibbons (BAL): Question marks abound in this comparison, but based upon current production, slight edge to the Yankees.
2B - Bellhorn (BOS), Cano (NYY), Roberts (BAL): Brian Roberts is an MVP candidate - easy edge to the O's.
SS - Renteria (BOS), Jeter (NYY), Tejada (BAL): Jeter's having a terrific season, but Miguel Tejada's the best shortstop in baseball right now.
3B - Mueller (BOS), Rodriguez (NYY), Mora (BAL): A-Rod's a prick, but he's killing the ball.
LF - Ramirez (BOS), Matsui (NYY), Bigbie (BAL): As dangerous as Matsui is, he's no Manny Ramirez.
CF - Damon (BOS), Williams/Cabrera (NYY), Matos (BAL): Possibly the biggest incremental difference between the teams. Damon's head and shoulders above the others.
RF - Nixon (BOS), Sheffield (NYY), Sosa (BAL): Sheffield gets the nod over Nixon, but not by as much as first glance might suppose.
DH - Ortiz (BOS), Giambi, et al (NYY), Palmeiro, et al (BAL): Landslide for Papi.
So the tally, 4 for Boston (and none are even close), 3 for the Yankees, but only A-Rod is a clear differentiator, 2 for the O's. Even where the Sox trail the Yankees and Orioles, their talent is in the top half of the league, with the exception of Bellhorn. And they drift with the slightest of margins.
The title of today's entry refers both to the Sox' outlook for another long playoff run and to the great song by the band of the same name, "Middle of the Road," which is sadly descriptive of the Sox season to date.
Friday, July 15, 2005
Because I've Got Nothing Better to Do
Game 89 - Red Sox
Red Sox 17, Yankees 1
Record: 50-39
Here's some MLC trivia for you. This marks the first time since May 14-15 that I've posted on consecutive days. The first step in getting better is admitting that you have a problem, and I'm here to tell you that I suck.
The Sox, though, certainly didn't tonight. What are the odds of any team drilling their arch-rival by a 17-1 count twice in a single season? Longer than the odds of Trot Nixon hitting an inside-the-park homer? A bigger longshot than a team with a $200 million payroll having to start Tim Redding? More unlikely than Hideki Matsui fielding a fly ball of the Green Monster cleanly?
It's fun watching games when the Sox have an 11-run lead in the 4th inning. Stress, I fear not thy sting. Harpoon I.P.A, though, I feel thy sweet, dulling incantations. Perhaps a new stretch of superstition to follow? If I must, I'll soldier through. Or join the gang at Jerry's Wheelhouse.
Every Sox starter except...wait for it...Mark Bellhorn got a hit tonight, as did replacements Alex Cora and Adam Stern. As much as I've given Bellhorn grief thus far, it's been mostly out of a belief that he would turn it around. Now, though, I've gone around the bend on Eeyore. The Sox need more than he's giving them - Bellhorn is a liability, despite his still adequate OBP. Someone smarter than me (okay, someone with more time than me - it'd be hard find someone smarter) can compare the incremental value of Alex Cora's defense as compared to Bellhorn's, but if anyone could use a week of just sitting and watching, it's Eeyore. He just looks lost - swinging over low curveballs, and through high fastballs, pressing like a dry cleaner on a deadline.
Gabe Kapler officially rejoined the Sox tonight, but Kevin Youkilis was sent down yesterday, so my plan for a B'Nai Brith mixer at the Fens is on hold. Trade deadline is 16 days away. I'm waiting for a scorched earth policy from the Bronx in pursuit of a starter, any starter. As it stands, I think Ed Whitson's getting the call on Sunday.
Red Sox 17, Yankees 1
Record: 50-39
Here's some MLC trivia for you. This marks the first time since May 14-15 that I've posted on consecutive days. The first step in getting better is admitting that you have a problem, and I'm here to tell you that I suck.
The Sox, though, certainly didn't tonight. What are the odds of any team drilling their arch-rival by a 17-1 count twice in a single season? Longer than the odds of Trot Nixon hitting an inside-the-park homer? A bigger longshot than a team with a $200 million payroll having to start Tim Redding? More unlikely than Hideki Matsui fielding a fly ball of the Green Monster cleanly?
It's fun watching games when the Sox have an 11-run lead in the 4th inning. Stress, I fear not thy sting. Harpoon I.P.A, though, I feel thy sweet, dulling incantations. Perhaps a new stretch of superstition to follow? If I must, I'll soldier through. Or join the gang at Jerry's Wheelhouse.
Every Sox starter except...wait for it...Mark Bellhorn got a hit tonight, as did replacements Alex Cora and Adam Stern. As much as I've given Bellhorn grief thus far, it's been mostly out of a belief that he would turn it around. Now, though, I've gone around the bend on Eeyore. The Sox need more than he's giving them - Bellhorn is a liability, despite his still adequate OBP. Someone smarter than me (okay, someone with more time than me - it'd be hard find someone smarter) can compare the incremental value of Alex Cora's defense as compared to Bellhorn's, but if anyone could use a week of just sitting and watching, it's Eeyore. He just looks lost - swinging over low curveballs, and through high fastballs, pressing like a dry cleaner on a deadline.
Gabe Kapler officially rejoined the Sox tonight, but Kevin Youkilis was sent down yesterday, so my plan for a B'Nai Brith mixer at the Fens is on hold. Trade deadline is 16 days away. I'm waiting for a scorched earth policy from the Bronx in pursuit of a starter, any starter. As it stands, I think Ed Whitson's getting the call on Sunday.
Everything In Its Rightful Place (Except Me At My Desk)
Games 87 through 89 - Mets
Pirates 11, Mets 4
Mets 6, Pirates 1
Mets 6, Braves 3
Record: 45-44
I love rooting for Mike Piazza. There are no internal conflicts to resolve in pulling for the guy, there's no hesitation, there are no strings attached. I don't root for him like I do for Pedro, where I don't care for him personally but I have to admire what he does for the club. Instead, I usually end up keeping my fingers crossed for Mike Piazza not to continually hurt the team.
And then he hits a three-run opposite-field bomb to win the game against the loathed Braves, and all is right in the world. The All-Star break had me in a Metblog slumber, and while I'm not exactly springing out of the sack with anything worthwhile here today (I'm not a morning person), I'll be back again soon with more inane commentary. Coming soon: I'll delve into why the Mets have a team comprised exclusively of Gold Glovers and DH material.
Hometown heroes the Washington Nationals will be out of first place by July 25. The question is: how many games back will the Mets be when that happens? Seven back now, they should be just three back by then. You read it here first, and there's a reason for that.
Pirates 11, Mets 4
Mets 6, Pirates 1
Mets 6, Braves 3
Record: 45-44
I love rooting for Mike Piazza. There are no internal conflicts to resolve in pulling for the guy, there's no hesitation, there are no strings attached. I don't root for him like I do for Pedro, where I don't care for him personally but I have to admire what he does for the club. Instead, I usually end up keeping my fingers crossed for Mike Piazza not to continually hurt the team.
And then he hits a three-run opposite-field bomb to win the game against the loathed Braves, and all is right in the world. The All-Star break had me in a Metblog slumber, and while I'm not exactly springing out of the sack with anything worthwhile here today (I'm not a morning person), I'll be back again soon with more inane commentary. Coming soon: I'll delve into why the Mets have a team comprised exclusively of Gold Glovers and DH material.
Hometown heroes the Washington Nationals will be out of first place by July 25. The question is: how many games back will the Mets be when that happens? Seven back now, they should be just three back by then. You read it here first, and there's a reason for that.
Thursday, July 14, 2005
Best Laid Plans
Game 88 - Red Sox
Yankees at Sox (in progress)
My wife and kids are out of town for the week. I know what you're thinking, and yes, I am living a bachelor dream. If by dream you mean grilled cheese sandwiches, laundry strewn about carelessly, and copious masturbation. Ok, I lied about one of those things - I'm actually a decent cook.
Temporarily free, I thought I'd let it all hang out...by liveblogging tonight's Sox/Yanks game. A series of late crises at work followed by a run on my local supermarket which caused 8-deep lines at the checkout, topped off by a malfunctioning grill puts me in front of my keyboard just in time...to watch Gary Sheffield lead off the top of the 5th with a solo homer to make the score, 5-4, Sox.
The good guys spotted Bronson Arroyo a 4-0 lead in the bottom of the 1st, but he's spent the rest of the game trying to give it back. Arroyo's been wild in the zone all night, missing his spots in just the right place to find the fat part of Yankee bats. Thankfully, Mike Mussina's just been wild.
Musical interlude - Barry White's I'm Gonna Love You Just a Little More, Baby just hit the iPod, playing in shuffle mode. Aw yeah, sugar. Right in time for Big Papi to make sweet love to this Mussina offering...or whiff.
6-pitch 5th for Mussina. I need a new theme song.
Mike Myers and newly acquired Chad Bradford are warming together in the bullpen. This needs to be handled delicately, as the chances for a season-ending knuckle-collision are extremely high.
Silly good play by Bill Mueller to stop Derek Jeter grounder. Silly bad throw by Mueller in combination with a hideous full-body contortion by Kevin Millar to get out of the way instead of blocking the throw hands the Yankees the game-tying run. Millar, German for Designated for Assignment.
Manny! So nonchalant, but just turned in his 2nd fine defensive play of the evening. How 'bout leading off the bottom of the 6th with a go-ahead longball?
'Course, that would be easier if he hadn't already batted in the 5th. DFA leads off the 6th. Robinson Cano covers 2nd on the pitch, even though no runner was on - DFA takes advantage with a roller through the vacated spot.
Now it's Eeyore's turn to fulfill his destiny - 1st and 3rd, 1 out. I smell a strikeout. Sigh. That is simply too easy.
Mussina vs. Damon. Full count, 2 on, 2 out. Annnnnd...Johnny watches strike 3 sail by harmlessly. Attakid. Fuck.
2 mildly interesting developments in the top of the 7th: Chad Bradford makes his Sox debut after coming over from the A's for Jay Payton and Alan Embree stole Matt Clement's facial hair. Also, Bradford throws to first the same way he pitches - DFA's brain nearly exploded.
And this is where I welcome Bradford to the Nation by saying, "Throw a fucking strike, assmonkey."
Trotman! Saved Embree's goofy-tufted ass with a nice catch, retreating to the wall in right to glove Matsui's drive.
It's Tanyon Sturtze, dammit. Swing the bat, Edgar.
Papi makes me happi! Tanyon showing his Sturtzeness. 6-5, Sox.
How long 'til Schilling makes his debut as relief ace? And will his ego fit through the clubhouse door if he slams the door shut? Or, alternately, Embree could simply piss the lead right away. With help from Timlin, game tied at 6.
Schilling warming. DFA walking. Beer flowing like wine. Nonsense flocking to this blog like the salmon to Capistrano.
Yankee-killer Billy Mueller has a nice ring to it. 3 unassisted, not so much.
Fenway's going bonkers as Schilling enters to pitch the top of the 9th. Gotta admit that I'm a little bit giddy. He might throw his first pitch over the backstop.
Menacing is the first word that comes to mind when I look at Gary Sheffield at the plate. Doubles off the wall to lead off the 9th. 2 doubles and a homer tonight for Sheffield. And now A-Rod. I don't like this movie. Nor the 2-run homer A-Rod just cranked to center. The Schilling Experiment is off to a Hindenberg-esque start.
Liveblogging, as I recall now, is an exercise in crappy writing and poor results for the Sox. My work here is done, as are the Sox.
Yankees at Sox (in progress)
My wife and kids are out of town for the week. I know what you're thinking, and yes, I am living a bachelor dream. If by dream you mean grilled cheese sandwiches, laundry strewn about carelessly, and copious masturbation. Ok, I lied about one of those things - I'm actually a decent cook.
Temporarily free, I thought I'd let it all hang out...by liveblogging tonight's Sox/Yanks game. A series of late crises at work followed by a run on my local supermarket which caused 8-deep lines at the checkout, topped off by a malfunctioning grill puts me in front of my keyboard just in time...to watch Gary Sheffield lead off the top of the 5th with a solo homer to make the score, 5-4, Sox.
The good guys spotted Bronson Arroyo a 4-0 lead in the bottom of the 1st, but he's spent the rest of the game trying to give it back. Arroyo's been wild in the zone all night, missing his spots in just the right place to find the fat part of Yankee bats. Thankfully, Mike Mussina's just been wild.
Musical interlude - Barry White's I'm Gonna Love You Just a Little More, Baby just hit the iPod, playing in shuffle mode. Aw yeah, sugar. Right in time for Big Papi to make sweet love to this Mussina offering...or whiff.
6-pitch 5th for Mussina. I need a new theme song.
Mike Myers and newly acquired Chad Bradford are warming together in the bullpen. This needs to be handled delicately, as the chances for a season-ending knuckle-collision are extremely high.
Silly good play by Bill Mueller to stop Derek Jeter grounder. Silly bad throw by Mueller in combination with a hideous full-body contortion by Kevin Millar to get out of the way instead of blocking the throw hands the Yankees the game-tying run. Millar, German for Designated for Assignment.
Manny! So nonchalant, but just turned in his 2nd fine defensive play of the evening. How 'bout leading off the bottom of the 6th with a go-ahead longball?
'Course, that would be easier if he hadn't already batted in the 5th. DFA leads off the 6th. Robinson Cano covers 2nd on the pitch, even though no runner was on - DFA takes advantage with a roller through the vacated spot.
Now it's Eeyore's turn to fulfill his destiny - 1st and 3rd, 1 out. I smell a strikeout. Sigh. That is simply too easy.
Mussina vs. Damon. Full count, 2 on, 2 out. Annnnnd...Johnny watches strike 3 sail by harmlessly. Attakid. Fuck.
2 mildly interesting developments in the top of the 7th: Chad Bradford makes his Sox debut after coming over from the A's for Jay Payton and Alan Embree stole Matt Clement's facial hair. Also, Bradford throws to first the same way he pitches - DFA's brain nearly exploded.
And this is where I welcome Bradford to the Nation by saying, "Throw a fucking strike, assmonkey."
Trotman! Saved Embree's goofy-tufted ass with a nice catch, retreating to the wall in right to glove Matsui's drive.
It's Tanyon Sturtze, dammit. Swing the bat, Edgar.
Papi makes me happi! Tanyon showing his Sturtzeness. 6-5, Sox.
How long 'til Schilling makes his debut as relief ace? And will his ego fit through the clubhouse door if he slams the door shut? Or, alternately, Embree could simply piss the lead right away. With help from Timlin, game tied at 6.
Schilling warming. DFA walking. Beer flowing like wine. Nonsense flocking to this blog like the salmon to Capistrano.
Yankee-killer Billy Mueller has a nice ring to it. 3 unassisted, not so much.
Fenway's going bonkers as Schilling enters to pitch the top of the 9th. Gotta admit that I'm a little bit giddy. He might throw his first pitch over the backstop.
Menacing is the first word that comes to mind when I look at Gary Sheffield at the plate. Doubles off the wall to lead off the 9th. 2 doubles and a homer tonight for Sheffield. And now A-Rod. I don't like this movie. Nor the 2-run homer A-Rod just cranked to center. The Schilling Experiment is off to a Hindenberg-esque start.
Liveblogging, as I recall now, is an exercise in crappy writing and poor results for the Sox. My work here is done, as are the Sox.
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