Tuesday, September 19, 2006

A Completely Improbably Feat, and Thusly, A Completely Terrible Feeling

I have no idea what this book is about, or what the "Miracle" is. But after last night's events, it seemed appropriate.

The Dodgers of Los Angeles, a team with about as much power as a 20-year-old lawnmower, decided to hit four homers in a row in the ninth inning and then, for good measure, hit a two-run walkoff to win it in the 10th.

This hurts for two reasons:

1) No team had hit four consecutive homers in the same inning since 1964 (and definitely not in the ninth inning to tie the game) and,

2) They only tied it in the ninth. So the fact that No-more hit a two-run jack job to win it means that THE PADRES SCORED TO GO AHEAD IN THE 10th.

Now, nobody wants to give up four straight bombs in the ninth. But wouldn't it have been nice to come right back, score, and then win? A nice little, "Hey, good show there and all, but we're taking 3 of 4 and a 1.5 game lead with us. Buh-bye."


That hulking, heavy sound behind you? That's Ryan Howard and the Phillies. They are coming.

Saturday, September 16, 2006

A Completely Frustrating Gem Thrown By A Rejuvenated Man

See that there? To the left? That, my friends, is probably a changeup. Which, in all likelihood, followed another changeup. What you don't see in that picture is a left-handed batter (Dave Roberts or Brian Giles, perhaps?) getting ready to flail miserably at it.

Greg Maddux found the fountain of youth last night, twirling a no-no for 6 1/3 in the Dodgers' 3-1 submarining of the Padres to push their lead to 1.5 games over our loving Friars.

Now, I've never been a big fan of the Padres' offense. Adrian Gonzalez and Mike Piazza are the only legitimate longball threats and, frankly, that's not ... that's not good. Pitching and defense wins championships (thank Jebus) but, you know, you might actually have to hit a little at some point.

And that's why last night was so frustrating. Here you have the biggest series of the year, a chance to make a statement, and they get stymied by a 40-year-old. A Hall of Fame 40-year-old, sure, but a 40-year-old nonetheless.

There's a reason Maddux has never thrown a no-hitter: he doesn't have no-hit stuff. This fact alone makes him one of the greatest "pitchers" ever. Anyone with the unlikely ability to hurl a horsehide-covered sphere 98 mph can probably strike out a few guys, even with very little movement. But, as Warren Spahn once said, "pitching is upsetting timing." And there may be no one better at it in the history of the sport.

Well, except this guy.

Monday, September 11, 2006

A Completely Terrible Way to Start the Season


You know what's fun? Wake up near where the Polo Grounds used to be at 10:30 after five hours of sleep; then take the subway all the way back to Brooklyn to get your Al Wilson jersey; go back to Manhattan; drink too much too fast; watch your team commit three turnovers in the first 20 minutes of game time; hear way too much from the drunken asshole at the end of the bar who, before the game, said he was from the St. Louis area but didn't really follow the team; find yourself asleep at the bar because you've averaged 5 1/2 hours sleep the last week; sign your tab in shame as everyone looks at you in pity; get some chicken on the way home; pass out in the middle of eating it; wake up at 2 in the a.m. with what feels like a hangover, which it probably is, because, technically, you just slept roughly your aforementioned 5 1/2 hours; watch Adult Swim until 4 a.m.; then have trouble falling asleep.

Javon Walker failed to make that catch. Well, he failed to make a few others, too.

But it wasn't his fault. Not completely, anyway.

Nope. That would be the entire offense.

So, now, I give you a list of things that look better than the Broncos offense did on Sunday:

  • an impending colonoscopy
  • Tony Siragusa in a cocktail dress (stuffed into a little, white Porsche)
  • the socio-political climate in Darfur
  • Beaches
  • this thing that happened to my thumbnail once in high school, where I peeled off the top layer of it around the half-moon and it grew back full of puss, and whenever I had to shove it into my first baseman's mitt it hurt like a sonuvabitch
  • the bathtub after my roommate showers
  • Charlize Theron in Monster
  • any episode of "According to Jim"
  • every picture I've ever seen in the medical textbooks I see at work
  • Whitney Houston after a vacation to Colombia
So, yeah.


Friday, September 08, 2006

A Completely Useless Post to Follow the Ludicrous One

You know who had a great name? Yevgeny Kafelnikov.

I dare you to say that and not smile.

A Completely Ludicrous Prediction To Kick Things Off

The Mets will win the World Series.

Yup. That's right. I said it. And I'm even a Padres fan, man.

Look, they're loose. Pedro's rolling around with a freaking kid's glove to fuck with Jose Reyes after they stomp the ever-loving shit out of the Dodgers (and, yes, I enjoyed typing that)? Paul LoDuca's divorcing Playboy models and NOBODY IN NEW YORK CARES? Tom Glavine goes from a potential Powder one week to goddamn Warren Spahn the next? And this isn't happening?

I've heard enough of the weak NL. Look, we get it. They suck. Ok. But the Pirates beat the Yankees in 7 in 1960 and got outscored 55-27, and you're telling me something like that couldn't happen again? The Mets couldn't get decent-enough pitching and slug the stitches off the ball to win four games in a week against ANY of the top AL teams? Bullshit.

The A's always fold in October; the Tigers are too young and overworked; the Twins never have enough offense when it counts; the White Sox have a rotation that makes me pine for the days of the Colorado Silver Bullets; and the Yankees are...well, I both hate and fear the Yankees. So there.

But I'm telling you, boy, nothing's a better remedy for the long, bleak oppressive season and the impending cauldron of October than playing ball when you're having fun. And the Mets are having some fun.
(If you're expecting a bunch of links and pictures and shit, look elsewhere. There may be some in the future, but for now, I'm just gonna write about stuff and assume that you assholes have already heard this shit somewhere else. And seen some pictures about it. Because, unlike me, you probably don't have a job. Or you have one that allows you to spend countless hours just surfing the internetwebnet. Well, not me. I have 2 jobs and very, very little time. So you get text and not much else. Suck it, bitches.)