la Beisbolista

give me all you've got... I won't break your heart

sarah-bug@labeisbolista.com — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 15:22:00 +0000

Right. Okay. Well, then....

So I've been mulling over this latest development at Camp Cardinals, and trying desperately to put into words all that I'm thinking, but (as you might imagine) it's pretty difficult.

I love Big Mac.

No, not the sandwich. (I actually don't like Big Macs.)

I don't really care what you think of me regarding that love, and I completely understand that I'm in the minority with my feelings.

But still, I love him.

I've written about this before, and I don't particularly want to revisit it right now, especially considering that the 2010 pre-season promises to be chock full of MacGoodness until we're all vomiting blood and cursing the national sports media with our dying breaths. So there's no need to burn it all out this early. Best to save some bile for later.

Don't get me wrong, I like Hal McRae. I like recognizing him when his infamous "Royal Rant" is played on the "Top Most Outrageous Sports Meltdowns". I like seeing his hat perched precariously on the peak of his head, ready to fall at any moment. I like his enormous and slightly mischievous smile. Unfortunately, when you're the hitting coach and your team gets swept out of the playoffs due largely to a complete lack of hitting, you probably shouldn't make any plans for redecorating your office.

Mark McGwire may not be the answer, but the better half of the Bash Brothers belongs in a Cardinals uniform for the rest of time, as far as I'm concerned, and if he has to actually wear the uniform for the rest of time to make that a reality (rather than the immortalization I'm hoping for), well, then, so be it.

If nothing else, I guess this effectively settles the question of who will next wear number 25. It will be none other than number 25 himself.

Welcome back, Mac.

fizzle... pop... dead

sarah-bug@labeisbolista.com — Sun, 11 Oct 2009 21:45:00 +0000

We played hard and lost. We have nothing to be ashamed of.

Good season, everyone. Now go home and rest up, because Spring Training is only about five months away.

I guess it wasn't meant to be.

(pause for dramatic effect)

Oh, well. There's always next year. (Egads, did I just say that? Deep breath, I will not turn into a Cubs fan.)

I like a good underdog, so I'll be rooting for the Rockies and Twins.

Where do the other playoff teams stand? Glad you asked? (And yes, I realize you didn't actually ask.)

I heard on ESPN yesterday(?) that it might be "a while before they can play competitive baseball in Colorado again."

Minnesota, with ankles in hands, are on the verge of a fate similar to the Cards.

The BoSox were swept out of their series as well.

No promises, but if it comes down to the Yankees and the Dodgers, I might just put in a DVD and forget about baseball altogether.

The offseason should be interesting, if nothing else.

TLR and Dave Duncan may or may not be back. I would love for them to return, but I'm not holding my breath.

Matt Holliday will probably end up with the Yankees (unless you believe in karma).

Mark DeRosa will probably end up back with the Cubs (or possibly the Padres).

Troy Glaus won't sign anywhere this offseason, but I expect him to get ST invites.

Rick Ankiel will NOT get everything Scott Boras thinks he's worth, but he won't do too badly. He'll stay in the NL, because as we all saw this year, his defense is much better than his offense.

Joel Pineiro will get a 1-year deal to stay with the Cardinals.

Jason Motte has seen the last of big league action for a while.

Todd Wellemeyer... well, it's hard to say if he'll get any interest this winter, but he's a very likable guy, and I hope he gets another chance. Somewhere else. Cause, well, likable is nice and all, but I want to win next year.

John Smoltz will definitely get interest, but I'm not entirely sure he wants to come back, regardless of what he says. I'd love to see him back in a Cardinals uniform, but that's a hard one to pick.

I guess that's the upside of a long season--you don't have to wait too long for another chance.

(forced smile)

(sigh)

(sob)

I'm just going to bury my face in a pillow and cry for a few weeks.

One more season over, one more opportunity missed.

Blah.

the games that play us

sarah-bug@labeisbolista.com — Sat, 10 Oct 2009 21:18:00 +0000

All of this means nothing if you can't knock down that shot.

Does a 162-game season really come down to this? One game? Can you win 91 games and the division and still go home with nothing to show?

Yes. And no.

We will slump our shoulders and shuffle off the field, knowing that for now, for this moment in time, we are losers.

We played hard.... We have nothing to be ashamed of.

But there was a lot to be proud of during the regular season this year. Lots of drama. Lots of hard work. Lots of excitement. Lots of unforgettable moments (and a few we'd maybe rather forget). All in all, it was a blast. Sure, the last few weeks were pretty rough, but with a 162-game season, you can't really expect every day to be peaches.

Less than what we wanted? Yes.

But nothing to show? No way.

Minutes away from the start of this playoff game.

Will it be the last? Or the first?

I told you if you missed that shot it was all for nothing, but I was wrong.

It matters.

No regrets.

can we play a meaningful game, already?

sarah-bug@labeisbolista.com — Tue, 06 Oct 2009 15:14:00 +0000

I have started this post over and over, looking for the right words to tell you how I'm feeling, but in all honesty, I don't know how I'm feeling (unless you count sick as a dog with something flu-like). Truly, it's hard to know what to say or how to feel about a team that played so hard and clinched the division and then just decided to bag the rest of the season. Am I supposed to be excited? Disappointed? Outraged? Yes and no, I guess.

The post-celebration season was a drag. Nothing interesting happened, and while it was really no fun to watch, we can at least take solace in the fact that nothing disastrous happened, either. Maybe that was the point. Maybe it was all pre-arranged to prevent serious injury. It would have been nice, however, if they could have managed one or two more wins. You know, just to get the enthusiasm up a little headed into the playoffs. But, whatever.

Like I said, I had a lot of trouble conjuring up any emotion (one way or the other) about the situation, but then I thought, "wait, what about some emotionless writing to convey my emotionless thoughts?" And if you've ever read or written nurse's notes, you know that it doesn't get much more emotionless than that.

So, here's my best attempt at NN (nurse's notes) to describe what has been a less than impressive season finale...

9/26/09 2230 Team in playoffs p clinching against Col. Celebrating c alcohol in clubhouse. Media present. A&O x2, unable to identify time of day/date or purpose possibly r/t ETOH consumption. Team pleasant, smiling, cooperative. VS 120/80 72 20 98.6o. Skin warm, dry. LCTA. Respirations even. BSx4. No c/o pain or discomfort. No distress noted.

10/1/09 1600 Team c one win of three in Cin series. A&O x4. Mood labile. Denies SI/HI. Catcher c/o pain in L knee p incident c foul ball. Reports pain as "8" on 1-10 scale. Unable to bear weight L leg. Swelling & bruising noted to area. Pedal pulses present B. Prn pain meds given as requested. Ice pack applied. Player replaced. VS 114/66 98 24 98.0o. Skin warm, dry. Respirations even. BSx4.

10/4/09 1830 Team swept by division foes. Regular season over. Three series losses to end season. VS 102/60 110 28 96.7o. Skin cool, clammy. Respirations labored. Lung sounds diminished B @ bases. Oral mucosa pink, moist. Cap refill 2 seconds. No cyanosis noted. Sa02 90%. 02 applied per NC @2L/min. HOB elevated. A&O x4. Mood anxious.

Hopefully, the post-season adrenaline will kick in and we'll stop the bleeding and survive the NLDS.

...

Whatever.

finally.

sarah-bug@labeisbolista.com — Sun, 27 Sep 2009 03:30:00 +0000

Yikes. I'll write more later, but for now suffice it say that after much too much waiting and worrying and wondering, we have finally clinched the National League Central.

Yay!

Fate = Yadi coming out and LaRue breaking up the 3-3 tie.

If we end up playing the Rox in the playoffs, it will most likely be a bloodbath.

we're saving all the runs for the Cubs

sarah-bug@labeisbolista.com — Thu, 17 Sep 2009 15:43:00 +0000

So said a Busch Stadium usher as we were leaving yesterday. I can only assume he has some inside information to which the rest of us are not privy. I guess we'll find out this weekend.

The game yesterday was the first I'd been to since Chris Duncan was traded. I gotta say, I caught myself (more than once) glancing down at the dugout, looking for number 16. It was kind of haunting, because I could still see him there stretching before the game. Running in from left field. Taking swings in the on-deck circle. But he wasn't there. And it was sad.

Actually, the whole game was sad. There wasn't much to cheer about, and it didn't end the way every other game I've ever been to (and yes, I may be exaggerating) has ended. Even my lucky jersey couldn't get it done.

Josh Johnson would be great in the Cards rotation. Just saying.

If you'd told me at the beginning of the season that on September 17, with 15 games left to play, that we'd have an 8.5 game lead in the division and a magic number of 9, I'd have been a happy camper. Ecstatic. So why am I frustrated? Because the Cards have lost 5 of their last 6 and have let a 12.5 game lead get whittled down. This series with the Cubs, while not make-or-break, is certainly important. Too important to let Kyle Lohse pitch, as a matter of fact.

The UCB is finalizing its latest project, so head over and check out The Top 7 Prospects and find out whom the participating bloggers are predicting to be big parts of the organization's future.

One more thing. I've decided that since my pledge of canned goods for Cardinals wins hasn't really gone very well so far, I'll change things up. (I was going to abandon the plan entirely, but I'm not sure that would be the most charitable thing to do.) So from now on, I'll donate canned goods, but it won't be based on anything the Cardinals do. So win. Lose. Whatever. I'm on my way to the food pantry.

back to your regularly scheduled programming

sarah-bug@labeisbolista.com — Mon, 14 Sep 2009 01:15:00 +0000

Sorry about the earlier craziness. My PTBD got the better of me.

Looking for a silver lining in today's loss, I guess you could focus on the fact that it wasn't the bullpen, as Carp was touched for a whole basket-full before the 'pen ever had a chance to lose it. Oh, and Thompson didn't look half bad. If you can call that a silver lining.

So the magic number remains at 11. The lead over Chicago drops to 9.5 (with the Cubs win over Cincinnati). The losing streak climbs to 3. It's going to be okay, though. It's hard to say that I'm not nervous, but contrary to what my earlier posts may have suggested, I'm not really panicking. Just thinking. Hard. About what this team needs. And there's only one thing I can come up with.

We need a closer.

If Franklin can get his stuff figured out and be effective once again, fine. If we need to put Smoltzie in that role for the remainder of the regular season, fine. If one of the other relievers can step up and take over, fine. And if we need to look outside the organization for back-end help, and I'm looking right at you, John Mozeliak, F I N E. After all, you can't do all the "remodeling" we've done this year, just to have it all fall apart at the end of the season because you can't close out games.

Anyway, I'm taking my daughter to the game on Wednesday. It's a day game, so no late-night navigating through downtown. Seats in my favorite section. 4 tickets for 2 bodies, so plenty of room to maneuver and hold the copious amounts of stuff necessary to keep her entertained so I can concentrate on the game. Scheulduled to see Joel take on Josh Johnson, so it promises to be a good game. As long as the weather holds out, I'm looking forward to a fun afternoon. Plus, shopping afterwards. See you there!

ugh

sarah-bug@labeisbolista.com — Sat, 12 Sep 2009 23:28:00 +0000

Thoughts I had while watching the travesty of a game we were subjected to this afternoon:

I blame big Fox. Mark Grace may be the biggest suck-up in the history of announcing, and Chris Rose makes me want to chew on glass just to drown him out.

So the Braves temporarily forgot how to play baseball, and it all began with Chipper Jones doing his best third base coach impression while running from third to home on a play that should have easily scored him. No one, including Chipper, knew exactly what he was doing.

Ahead by one in the eighth, three "errors" in a row for the Braves led to two runs and the (temporary) lead for the Cardinals. Is this real? Did they really just boot three easy grounders? Wow.

Ryan Franklin obviously cut his beard, a move that sapped all his power and left him impotent and unreliable. Yeah, I said it. What?

Maybe it wouldn't hurt the team to lose a few. Bring them back down to earth. Give them just enough of a scare to kick their butts back into gear.

I hate playing the bottom of the ninth at home, but I love walk-offs. This game, unfortunately, did not end with one.

This team, the one that lost today even with the gift that was the eighth inning, will not make it far in the playoffs. After today, I wouldn't even hold my breath for them to make it to the playoffs. I'm not trying to be an alarmist, but PANIC PANIC PANIC....

ahh, disappointment

sarah-bug@labeisbolista.com — Sat, 12 Sep 2009 15:43:00 +0000

How long had it been since the Cards had dropped a series opener? 11 series? 12? Well, no matter. We can still win the set, right? All is not lost.

The Cubs did manage to gain a game on St Louis, a feat they haven't accomplished for well over a month, but at still 10.5 games back, we probably don't need to worry yet.

Magic number remains at 12. Unfortunately this means at least one more day until I can put up my "11" (or better yet "10") picture in the sidebar.

The worst part of last night's game? Not the quiet bats or the ridiculously bad umpiring or even the TWO errors by The Best Player in Baseball. No, the worst part was that after a seven-inning, one-run outing by Piñeiro, he gets the L. Talk about a tough loss.

My first instinct? Chalk this game up to a malalignment of the planets and move on. Everyone has a bad day now and again.

My second instinct? How can we get Jair Jurrjens? Seriously. Like, now. I mean, Atlanta isn't really using him for anything. Sheesh.

And finally (might I add), this team, with the way they're playing this year, has given me reason to stay up. Until the final out of the ninth inning last night, I was just sure they would pull one out. I knew that they would come back and win it, just like they've done for so many other games this season. That, in itself, is probably the biggest victory they could get. They've turned into the team you don't give up on. And how awesome is that?

more important things

sarah-bug@labeisbolista.com — Sat, 12 Sep 2009 00:57:00 +0000

I was teaching. High school Spanish in my basement classroom. Although I don't remember the particulars of the subject matter for that day, I remember exactly where I was standing, as well as the looks on the faces of my mostly freshmen students. The principal's voice came through the loudspeaker: "Teachers, please turn on your televisions." The tv was mounted to the wall behind me, and I clicked the power button. Everyone was silent as we waited for the picture to warm up, then tried to comprehend the images we were seeing. Buildings. Smoke. It didn't seem to make sense. Had there been a fire? A bombing? Slowly, bit by bit, it sank in. A plane collided with another building, and we all gasped. We were too shocked to cry. Too stunned to look away.

Later--maybe minutes, maybe hours, maybe days--I read an essay written by one of my favorite authors to my class. I still have a copy of that essay stored away somewhere.

Rest in peace, all the lives lost that tragic day.

In less depressing news, I hereby plegde to be a better person (and possibly help the team's chances) by donating canned goods to my local food pantry for every win by the Cardinals for the rest of the season--regular and post. A fellow baseball blogger (k-bro), has challenged Twins fans and bloggers to follow her lead and provide a little charitable motivation to the club. Obviously, my loyalties lie elsewhere than Minnesota, but I think the idea is great, and I encourage everyone to jump on board.

Also, in keeping with her plan, I'll also donate an item for every Dodgers loss (seeing how involving the Cubs in this would only be insulting, and we're in a much stiffer competition with LA over the best NL record).

Whadaya say, sports fans?

Let's

start

now.

of fans and faith

sarah-bug@labeisbolista.com — Wed, 09 Sep 2009 00:47:00 +0000

I was thinking about winning today. Not winning a game or a series or even the World Series, but just winning in general. Having a team you can be proud of. A team you can have fun with. A team you can have faith in, even in the midst of a losing streak.

Cardinals fans like to call ourselves "the best fans in baseball". Sure, I've said it. I mostly even believe it. Of course, a blanket description like that leaves a lot of room for contradiction and argument, and for the most part, I've never really dissected the statement.

Well, today I was reading a blog post from a Reds fan, and suddenly I realized who the "best fans in baseball" really are. It's not us, even as much as I'd like to say it is. It's not Yankees fans or Angels fans or Royals fans or Rockies fans. It's not Reds fans. In fact, it's not any one team's fans at all. It's the fans who don't give up, and they come from every corner of the baseball universe. It's the fans like the blogger whose story I was reading today, whose team is flagging and flailing, and who still get up in the morning excited about watching or listening to or attending the game just because it's their team. It's the fans whose teams haven't won anything for longer than anyone hasn't won anything, and yet they wear their team colors with pride. It's the fans who watch every game, not because their team is in first place, or because they came so close last year, or because the GM just signed a big-name player to save the day. They watch for pure love of the game and unconditional love of their teams. They watch to see their favorite hitters steal second. They watch to see their favorite pitchers drop a nasty curve. They watch to see their favorite managers get ejected for arguing balls and strikes.

Obviously this can apply to Cards fans, and often does. It applies to fans of every club, from the reigning World Series champions to the last place team. Sure it's hard to believe anyone living in Florida is a "best fan" (at least if you've ever seen the attendance at their stadiums), but they're out there. They're watching while they work in the garage or wash dishes, and they're listening in the car on their way to the store. They check box scores when the boss isn't looking, and they catch the replays on Sportscenter while they're getting ready for work.

I was really moved by the post written by this fan, and it made me take a good look at how good a fan I really am. Cardinals fans haven't always had it easy, but with more World Series rings than any franchise other than the Yankees, we haven't exactly been the worst off, either. In the last decade, we've been to the playoffs 6 times and had only one losing season. The Pirates have 5 World Championships in their history, but only two of them have come since the 1925 season, while the Cardinals have won all ten of theirs in that time span, with four coming since the 60s. Therefore, watching every game, buying all the merchandise, and supporting all the players isn't exactly a challenge. Sure, we face our rough patches. We've had losing seasons and losing streaks and bad games, but think about the Pirates for a second. Yesterday marked a milestone for that club, and although the team was quick to point out that it is most definitely not the same group of guys throughout that streak, it is the same group of fans (more or less). The same fans have seen this club lose again and again, and yet when you watch the broadcasts, you see them there at the park, dressed up like pirates or in their best home jerseys, cheering for their team as though the last 17 years hadn't even happened.

I've sometimes wondered how Pirates fans and Nats fans and Royals fans and Reds fans (et al) can keep going in the face of so much disappointment, and reading this article gave me a slightly better idea. Being a fan is not always easy. Sometimes you just have to turn the game off and take a little break. Heck, even players get discouraged. The really inspiring thing, though, is that I know at the end of the day, true fans will still peek to see how it turned out. They'll come back to the game and to their team. True fans will still care.

dealing

sarah-bug@labeisbolista.com — Tue, 08 Sep 2009 13:36:00 +0000

It feels pretty good to be in the position we're in. Magic number down to 14, 11.5 game lead in the division, even with the Dodgers for the best record in the NL.

Other things making me very happy include the Phillies getting swept for 4 by the Astros, Buster Olney calling the Cardinals "the team to beat", and this.

Of course, no matter what's going on in your life, a performance like last night's by Chris Carpenter has to make you smile. No laboring on labor day for this ace. 99 pitches were all he needed to finish a complete game with 10K, 1 hit, and 0 runs. Round about the end of the sixth inning, Dan and Al were discussing whether Carp should try and finish out the game, or if Tony should take it easy on him since this is as much as he's pitched in a season for a while. In the end, the right decision was made--Carp went the distance, saved the 'pen, and brought his ERA down even further.

That's 11 straight wins for the woodsmith, if you're counting.

I've only made it one game this year, and I keep thinking I need to get back to Busch before too much longer. When does Carp go again?

I wonder if Izzy's watching, wherever he is...

dum, da da dum!

sarah-bug@labeisbolista.com — Thu, 03 Sep 2009 20:38:00 +0000

Speaking of the otherworldly amazingness of the indispensible Chris Carpenter ("Carp" to his admirers), guess who is the NL Pitcher of the Month for August!

Drumroll, please!....

The pitcher of the mo--

No, it's not Dave Bush.

The p--

No, I don't mean Barry Zito, either.

It's Chr--

No, not Ted Lilly--okay, just stop guessing, because I didn't really mean for you to guess anyway. I'll just tell you. It's Car--

Not Joe Blanton.

(frown)

Well, now I'm not sure I want to tell you after all.

It--

No, not Wandy Rodriguez.

I--

Bronson Arroyo? Really? No! It's Chri--

(sigh)

Are you done?

...

Done?

It's Chris Carpenter.

Leave me alone.

bring it on

sarah-bug@labeisbolista.com — Thu, 03 Sep 2009 15:12:00 +0000

September 2.

We're comfortably in first place in the Central, 10.5 games ahead of the Cubs, and tied for the best NL record with the Dodgers. Magic number: 20. And yes, it is now officially acceptable to start talking about the magic number.

Magic number = the number of Cardinals wins plus Cubs losses that will guarantee us a spot in the playoffs. It is also the number that will eliminate the Cubs from the NL Central race. (Isn't it fun how that works out?)

Twenty. Veinte. Venti. Vingt. A score. An icosahedron. Calcium. An actual magic number.

Here's what I'm thinking about today:

Our mid-season acquisitions have all lived up to/exceeded expectations, and everyone on the team is contributing (and by everyone, I of course mean everyone except Joe Thurston who is nearly worthless).

TLR will will let you know when it's finally safe to talk about the post-season, probably about 10 minutes before the first pitch of the NLDS. Until then, you will live in the moment and YOU WILL LIKE IT.

No comment on the Duncan situation. Do you suppose it would be too weird for the Cards to pick the Dunc-inator back up?

September call-ups? Um.... Can I get back to you on that?

Chris Carpenter has a place deep inside where he goes when he doesn't have his best stuff. A place, apparently, where he can find the strength to muscle out a quality start and give his team a chance to win even when his command isn't there and his best pitches aren't quite right. That's what makes him one of the best in the business. Where would we be without him?

Brad Penny is a jerk. I know he was on my wish list, and I know he pitched magnificently for the Giants in his first start back in the NL, but you have to draw the line somewhere, and sometimes that line is right around "he is a jerk". I know talent is important, but you don't want to sacrifice clubhouse chemistry. And no, this is not sour grapes.

Jason Motte pitches much better with no pressure (can you believe 5 K?), while John Smoltz likes a little fire under his butt. Mm-hm. San Fran can have Penny.

Troy Glaus is back, sort of. He's as tall as ever, and the uniform still fits, it seems. Therefore, I hereby predict that he will be one of the highest paid pinch hitters in the majors this post-season*, but he won't really do much. I love Troy and I wish him the best (and yes, I was giving him a mini standing ovation of my own in the living room last night), but Mr DeRosa has won my heart and I'm desperately hoping we can bring him back in 2010.

There's probably more, but I'll save that for later.

Later.

*Knock on wood.

putting the "crazy" back in "crazy fan"

sarah-bug@labeisbolista.com — Sun, 30 Aug 2009 03:12:00 +0000

Hm.

This scared me just a little bit.

winning's fun 'n stuff

sarah-bug@labeisbolista.com — Thu, 20 Aug 2009 05:40:00 +0000

Oh yeah.

Every ESPN reporter worth his salt was calling this series against LA an "NLCS preview", and now that we've won it, I feel comfortable agreeing with that assessment. After all, you're talking about two of the best teams in the NL, and I can't begin to express how warm and fuzzy it makes me feel to be able to type that.

Offense.

You'll agree that we possess The Best Player in Baseball. There is absolutely no valid argument against this. (In fact, from this point forward, I'll only refer to him as such, and yes, it will be capitalized.) Our second best hitter could go to any other MLB team and be number one, but we'll keep him in the cleanup spot, thank you very much. Then there's Luddy and Ank and Raz.... DeRosa and Schu and B-Ryan and Lugo.... And let's not forget the relentless and timely hitting by our All-Star backstop.

The most amazing thing about our offense this year, as I am reminded by TLR in the post-game interview, is that there is life after the sixth inning. Last year, if we were behind going into the seventh (or even the sixth or fifth), there was little or no hope of pulling one out. Oh sure, it happened now and then, but admittedly, it was rare (and very surprising when it did happen), and you certainly didn't count on it. The team showed less confidence with each passing inning, as though they knew their opportunities were dwindling. This year, though, there's hope. There's a twinkle in the eyes of the batters in late innings, and even when the Cards are down to their last out, you can't help but expect great things to happen.

Pitching.

Adam Wainwright was phenomenal. A no-hitter into the sixth, and now with 11 straight games giving up 2 or fewer ER. Too bad he couldn't get his 15th win, but a team win is what truly counts, and I have no doubt that Adam is perfectly happy with the outcome.

Ryan Franklin bore the majority of my scorn last year, but I wiped his slate clean during the offseason, and am proud to consider myself among the Frankie supporters. He has been a spark and an anchor for the bullpen, and while last year I would cringe at the thought of relievers coming into a game, this year I have no fear.

In other news, we signed the amazing John Smoltz today after he cleared waivers from the BoSox (meaning he'll still make a boat-load of money this year, but we won't be responsible for paying most of it), and no matter what happens, you can't see this as anything but a smart move. The possibilities (as I see them) are such:

(1) We pay him a few dollars, he pitches well and wins a few games for us in the rotation;

(2) We pay him a few dollars, he pitches terribly and loses one or two games before Tony decides to move him to the 'pen, where he imparts immeasurable wisdom upon the young pitching staff, thereby increasing their individual values;

(3) We pay him a few dollars, he has a terrible accident with a can-opener and never throws a single pitch as a Cardinal, then spends his free time studying medicine until he eventually finds a cure for cancer;

or (4) We pay him a few dollars, he pitches a few good games and a few lousy ones, makes virtually no difference in the Cardinals' season, and then disappears into a wardrobe one day, forcing Chipper Jones to speak at the hall of fame induction ceremony in his absence.

What do we have to lose?

Milwaukee got swept by Pittsburg today, but the Cubs were able to salvage one game in their set against the Padres. Cards remain 6 games up and move to 16 over .500.

number update

sarah-bug@labeisbolista.com — Thu, 20 Aug 2009 00:19:00 +0000

1 - RET
2 - RET
3 - K. Greene
4 - Molina
5 - Pujols
6 - RET
7 - DeRosa
8 - Glaus
9 - RET
10 - (TLR)
11 - (Oquendo)
12 - Lugo
13 - Ryan
14 - RET
15 - Holliday
16 - (McRae)
17 - RET
18 - (D. Duncan)
19 - Stavinoha
20 - RET
21 - LaRue
22 - Thurston
23 - Barden
24 - Ankiel
25 - OOC

26 - Lohse
27 - T. Greene
28 - Rasmus
29 - Carpenter
30 - Smoltz
31 - Franklin
32 - OOC
33 - Robinson
34 - Hoffpauir
35 - Piñeiro
36 - Reyes
37 - Wellemeyer
38 - (Mason)
39 - (McKay)
40
41 - Boggs
42 - RET
43 - Miller
44º OOC
45 - RET
46 - McClellan
47 - Ludwick
48 - Thompson
49 - (Pettini)
50 - Wainwright

51 - OOC
52 - Kinney
53 - Hawksworth
54
55 - Schumaker
56
57 - OOC
58
59
60 - Motte
61
62 - Walters/Mather
63
64 - García
65-77
78 - Scherer
79-84
85 - RET
86-99

nothing in particular

sarah-bug@labeisbolista.com — Wed, 19 Aug 2009 13:52:00 +0000

Brett Favre has come out of retirement to sign a 2-year deal with the Vikings. Blugh.

You're probably wondering what that has to do with baseball, so I'll tell you.

As you may or may not be aware, this is big news on Sportscenter. In fact, I think if they could get away with it, they would never cover anything else ever again. So I've been subjected to a lot of analysis and clips and snippets of interviews, and one in particular made me actually look away from my computer and refocus on the tv.

Brett Favre's coach said (presumably upon being asked why now after all that's happened), "You can't get a hit if you don't swing the bat."

Uh huh.

Well, that's fine and all, and if Brett wants to be a weasel and an attention-monger, he is more than welcome to retire and return over and over until his head explodes (fingers crossed), and people can love him or hate him or question him or admonish him or crown him or whatever, but please (please, please, please) don't drag my game into this huge pile of mess.

Seriously.

Leave baseball out of it.

We have enough of our own problems to deal with.

Gaa.

Anyway, last night was not disappointing. No, really. We had to lose that game. That was the plan, after all, right? I mean, Mitch Boggs pitched last night because we were conceding the game and Tony didn't want to waste one of our better pitchers against the Dodgers' ace, right? Right?

That's what I thought.

The Cubs lost, again, to the Padres. The Brewers lost, again, to the Pirates.

Life goes on.

changes (or, as bad as Rick Horton is, he is a thousand times better than Frank Cusumano)

sarah-bug@labeisbolista.com — Sun, 16 Aug 2009 22:27:00 +0000

Rain delay at Busch as we speak (figuratively speaking, of course), and so I started reminiscing about the beginnings of the blog. (Blame PHE, because he was doing it earlier and I picked up the idea and ran with it.)

Here's a little quiz for you, to see whether you've been paying attention.

Last year at this time, I was:

(a) complaining about an unfair suspension handed down to one of our pitchers,

(b) griping about Brewers' fans grammar,

(c) talking to myself about an aggressive (and well-intended) throw by Yadi that cost us a game,

(d) grieving for a lost closer,

(e) pushing for a gold glove for a very deserving third baseman,

or

(f) examining the magical effects of some very terrible-looking facial hair sported by Ryan Franklin.

Some things change, while others never do. The Cards, for the most part, are on a pretty hot tear these days (the game in the middle of which we currently dwell notwithstanding), and sit at a very comfortable 4.5 game lead in the NL Central. (And 14 games above .500 ain't nothin' to sneeze at either.) Last year was a different story. Last year at this time I was clinging to threadbare hope that we could sneak in for a wild card slot. This year the "experts" are wildly impressed with our well-rounded team and our better than average chance at "running away" with the division.

Last year, the Cubs were unstoppable.

Last year, the Phillies were cruising to their second World Championship.

Last year, the Cards were looking to the future (which, as we all know, is code for "giving up on this year").

This year, the Cubs are all injured.

This year, the Phillies, well, they're still pretty ferocious.

This year, the Cards have become the "aggressive" team. John Mozeliak came out swinging and landed one of the most dangerous hitters in baseball to bat cleanup, and has made it clear that when it comes to making a run at the postseason, his team is "all in".

For the record, the answer lies in the archives. (Oh, what? Did you think I was going to tell you?)

Also, for the record, winning is fun. (Just in case there was any doubt.) However, I would be watching anyway. For the record.

three things that irked me today

sarah-bug@labeisbolista.com — Fri, 07 Aug 2009 00:43:00 +0000

Number one, Skip Bayless is on my list. I know he does it on purpose, and I try to avoid watching him, but every so often I get tricked back in and find myself actually arguing with an inanimate electronic box in my living room. Grrr... Can the man not hear what his own head is saying? Is he so preoccupied with the sound of his own voice that the actual words become meaningless and unimportant to him? It's almost like he knows what to say to push my personal buttons, and he saves it for when he knows I'm watching. I don't care for the implications of this at all.

Number two, Brad Thompson gets a 3-game suspension and Guillermo Mota gets fined? Brad Thompson could not hit his spot all night, and was pretty convincingly upset with himself when David Wright narrowly avoided a head shot. Alternately, the look on Mota's face after plunking Fielder was one of utter intention. His thoughts were coming through loud and clear, and they were saying 'Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it?'

Number three, I went to every single place within about 20 miles that I though might carry magazines, and had no luck finding the latest issue of ESPN. Figures.

Otherwise, today was a fine day. Got some mint Oreos and an estimate on getting my car fixed, and bought a new, very cute scrub top.

Now I'm going to bed.

no hay que preocuparse

sarah-bug@labeisbolista.com — Wed, 05 Aug 2009 14:45:00 +0000

When I heard that Ryan Ludwick was the July NL Player of the Month, my first reaction was, well, what?

He was described as having quietly earned the honor, but considering the noise being made by Matt Holliday since his arrival with the club, Luddy could've been screaming at the top of his lungs and still gone unheard. In fact, he kind of did. ESPN shows his July line as pretty "quietly" spectacular.

(R)18 (H)34 (2B)5 (3B)0 (HR)6 (RBI)28 (BB)10 (SO)21 (SB)1 (CS)0 (OBP).396 (SLG).570 (OPS).966 (AVG).340

Of course, if you were able to pay attention to anything other than Holliday's .600+ average or DeRosa's 7 home runs, then you already knew how successful Ryan was in July. The point is, it's nice to see him get recognized for something that might easily have gone unnoticed by the rest of the NL.

What didn't go unnoticed for the last few games was Pujols' "slump". (And yes, I use quotation marks when referring to Albert's temporary return to planet earth.) Honestly, if he didn't hit a slow patch every now and again, we'd have nothing to remind us of just how truly extraordinary he is and how lucky we are to see history being made in our own backyard. As for me, I've learned not to worry about the big guy. No matter what it is, he'll figure it out. It's nice to have a man like that in my life. (smile)

Other notables:

Joel Piñeiro, while not stellar last night, has been very good most of the year. I'd almost like to see the front office bring him back next year.

I've meant to say something about Yadi's latest hairstyle for a while now. Every time I see him on the screen, I wonder if he knows what that mohawk/faux-hawk really looks like. Not that it's that bad (certainly better than the blonde), but it's just not him. Si estás leyendo, Yadi, creo que es hora para probar algo diferente ya.

soñando

sarah-bug@labeisbolista.com — Thu, 30 Jul 2009 01:44:00 +0000

I had a lovely dream about Kyle Lohse last night, the details of which I won't press upon you, but which leads me to believe that Kyle has seen the last of his hard-luck (and less than stellar) starts and will soon reclaim his role as "Mr. Reliable".

I know it's Wednesday, but I was so sure that last night's game was going to be a wash (ie, rained out) that I gave up and went to bed and completely missed pitching Tuesday.

Anyway, nothing really needs to be said about Wainwright, much less Carpenter, and Pineiro is fast winning my heart, and so I thought I'd give you my feelings about the guy we all desperately want to count on once again.

First, I'm really glad he's ours for the next millenium or so. I like the feeling of security that comes with a long-term contract, especially with good players.

Second, I think he's destined for great things before his career is over. Nothing specific, just a general sense of expectancy.

And third, it truly was a lovely dream....

a little "pop" in the lineup

sarah-bug@labeisbolista.com — Tue, 28 Jul 2009 19:55:00 +0000

The Cards' first big trade of the year came in the form of a utility player with more than a little experience in the NL Central.

One Cubs blogger waxed somewhat resentful about the Cardinals/Indians trade that brought the versatile Mark DeRosa to St Louis and sent Chris Perez and (eventually) Jess Todd to Cleveland:

That’s right, Mark DeRosa is now a Cardinal. The Cubs worst offseason trade of the year is now coming back to bite the Cubs in the ass. The Cubs most hated rivals just got better and it’s all because of Mark DeRosa.

Nevermind his iffy start with the Cards (ending up on the DL before registering a single hit), DeRosa has been a huge addition to the club. And I'm not just saying that because Cubs fans are unhappy.

+++

Next, as you may have heard, the Cards dispensed with Chris Duncan in the form of a film noir-type "meet on a train in the middle of the night and arrange a mutually beneficial assassination plot in which neither of us will be suspected for the murders we're about to commit" thing. The only apparent motive for either team is that of addition by subtraction. *Wink, wink*

I was not at all pleased with this trade, and I don't see any change in my feelings forthcoming. Lugo is at best a mediocre defender and an adequate hitter. His main asset is his ability to hit lefties for a little better than average. Any other team wouldn't sneeze at an offer to get him, but the Cards are so weak on the left side that we're pretty much willing to give any idiot a shot.

I don't have anything personal against Julio Lugo. I just don't like him.

+++

Our most recent acquisition was Matt Holliday. Last year, when offseason trade rumor-mongers were eagerly sending Holliday to St Louis, I didn't get my panties in a twist over the whole thing. For one, I wasn't thrilled at the prospect of shipping off two of our best outfielders (Skip and Ludwick) in exchange for one outfielder, mainly because the math just didn't work for me.

The other thing that bothered me about the possible trade (back in November) was that Matt would have to pick a new jersey number, seeing as #5 is taken (and hopefully will never be worn by another Cardinal for the rest of all time). In the end, he went to Oakland, where even his magical powers weren't enough to keep the A's out of the basement of their division, and the whole idea of Matt in red & white was put to bed... for the time being.

Then, suddenly, John Mozeliak surprised everyone, including himself, and brought the square-jawed hit-man to our fair city (or rather, to Philadelphia, for a road series), and a true threat behind Albert was finally a reality. We gave up Brett "the walrus" Wallace, a third baseman with a big bat, less than spectacular defense, and a quite large bottom. Um, I mean, powerful thighs. Er, I mean a solid foundation. Yes, that's it. The man is very solidly founded.

Fine print: Of course, those of us paying attention realize that Ryan Ludwick, while a remarkable power hitter and above-average defender, will never get the respect he deserves from pitchers, thus nullifying any actual threat he might pose in the batter's box. We therefore reserve the right to consider him a top quality clean-up hitter, while at the same time conceding our need for someone more publicly recognized as such.

All in all, I am somewhat impressed with our GM's go-get'em-ness (???), but I still feel that now that we've started down this road, we must complete the journey. Get us a starting pitcher (Halladay or Lee will do), Moze, because if there's one thing you don't want, it's for all this farm system looting to have been for naught.

cold-hearted

sarah-bug@labeisbolista.com — Wed, 22 Jul 2009 22:48:00 +0000

I deal with a lot of death in my line of work. Some deaths leave you with a sense of closure and peace while some tear your heart right out of your chest, leaving a gaping, bloody, stinking hole where your hopes and dreams used to be, then punch you squarely in the face and laugh as you crumple to the floor in a pathetic heap.

Wow.

Well, three things crossed my mind upon hearing about the trade.

(1) I'll be under the covers crying softly for the next two or three weeks if anyone needs me.

(2) John Mozeliak has some balls. And no heart. I think he must be made of plastic or something. Oh, I understand the motive. He wants to win. He wants to keep Albert Pujols happy, and his plan to accomplish this apparently involves filling up the roster with strangers and mercenaries who will (hopefully) get us into October and then quietly slip out the back door while no one's looking. However, as open-minded as I claim to be, I'm not sure I approve of the means.

The thing is, now that he's made this move, he really needs to bring the hammer down on the whole Roy Halladay situation. If he is truly committed to "the plan" as one would have to assume considering the weight of this decision, then he'd better stick to his guns and finish what he started.

And (3) Wait, don't we already have a shortstop? Or two?

Here's what Moze had to say about the trade:

Chris Duncan was drafted and developed by this organization, and in addition to being a talented player we all recognize him as a high-quality individual. He was an important part of our World Championship club in 2006. I know I speak for our entire organization when I say that we are grateful to Chris for what he has given to the Cardinals and our fans.

Chris Duncan. Some defensive blunders mixed in with some clutch hitting, and, well, it's like a roller coaster ride that you love and hate all at the same time.

Be good to my ba-Dunc-a-dunc, BoSox fans. I know where you live.

imagining a memory

sarah-bug@labeisbolista.com — Wed, 03 Jun 2009 13:35:00 +0000

Okay, so eaaaaasing my way back into this thing, I thought I'd tell you about the game last night. First of all, I didn't actually see the game. I know, I know. Chastise me if you must, but it was unavoidable. (They will re-air it today at noon, so it's not the end of the world, people.) My kids, however, did see the game, in person. (in persons?)

My son, a member of the local high school marching band, performed with the marching band on the warning track before the game and got to stay and watch the game for free. My parents decided to go and watch as well (mostly the performance, but also the game), and they took my daughter along for her first ball game. Yes, it was disappointing that I had to miss the whole thing--the band performance, the memories, and the Cardinals win--but I guess it's bound to happen now and then.

When I asked how it went, I got two different responses.

~~~

Me: So, how did it go?

Dad: Good game. Cards won. Beautiful weather.

~~~

Me: So, how did it go?

Mom: Oh, the band played very well, and Claire had a great time, but there weren't as many people from the school there as there were last year. The weather was beautiful.

~~~

The most amusing/wonderful/gratifying part was that my 4-year old daughter spent the entire game cheering for Molina. "Yay Yadi!" she would yell (or so I'm told) every time his name was announced (or even merely mentioned in passing). "To the point of being quite annoying," my father added. She clapped and screamed and sang his praises, and to be honest, I've never been more proud.

Overall, I'd say it was a success. Next year I'll be there.