Showing posts with label baseball. Show all posts
Showing posts with label baseball. Show all posts

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Sometimes karma throws that broken bat right back at you

Roger Clemens has been indicted by a federal grand jury. On six counts, including perjury and obstruction of justice. Oh, I knew today would be a good day when I woke up this morning!

Clemens, throwing a broken bat at Mike Piazza
during the 2000 World Series. Stay classy, Rocket.
Clemens is only one of this generation's legends that have been tainted by the steroid scandal that have tainted baseball with the steroid scandal -- Mark McGwire and Barry Bonds form the other two points of this pathetic triangle. McGwire has been ostracized by the baseball community, kept of out the Hall of Fame, and will likely finish his career as coach a half-remembered punchline. Bonds will have his day in court in March, having also been indicted for making false statements. And now Clemens.

I hope he goes to jail.

Of course, he should -- he lied to Congress. He committed perjury, several times. Those are felonies, and he should go to jail for them.

But those crimes are not why I hate Roger Clemens.

Roger Clemens is not like Mark McGwire, who took steroids as a way to boost his performance and instill his name is the record books. He's not like Barry Bonds, who did it to assuage his massive ego, and make sure that everyone on the planet finally gave him the attention he thought he'd deserved his whole life.

Roger Clemens took steroids because he's a bully. He's a mean, savage bully, and steroids were a way to make him bigger and stronger and meaner. I supported the man when he played for the Astros (prior to the outbreak of most of this steroid mess), but even then, he was a nasty, despicable bully -- he strutted around the team, making outrageous contract demands that the fawning ownership was only too happy to accept. He arrived in Houston convinced that he was King of the Goddamned World, and let no one suggest otherwise. But of course, he was a cheater. All of that money, all of that adoration, all of it, earned by cheating.

"Cheater" is just one word I could use to describe him. Another: thief. Those tens of millions of dollars were earned under false pretenses. He is a fraud.

When his name came up in the Mitchell Report, what seems like a thousand years ago, his first response wasn't to deny anything. It wasn't to vehemently defend himself against the allegations. No: his first response was to pout. "I am disappointed that my 25 years in public life have apparently not afforded me the benefit of the doubt," he said at the time, as if he had become bulletproof to the slightest suggestion of impropriety. I'm too famous to be a cheater, I guess he wanted us to think. Yes, how dare we even think about thinking he could do wrong! "Twenty-four, twenty-five years....You'd think I'd get an inch of respect. An inch." Oh, poor Roger. Poor, put-upon, perfectly innocent Roger. You don't deserve the whips and scorns of an ungrateful public!

No. You deserve to go to jail.

He won't. Of course he won't. We know that. We know how our society works. There will be a deal. He will walk. And he will never admit the truth. Every sharp stone that gets hurled at his fat, oversized-thanks-to-steroids head will be another brick in the They Hate Me wall. And baseball's open sore will keep festering.

It's beyond festered at this point, actually -- I think the sport has become gangrenous, and needs to be amputated for its own good. Alex Rodriguez, who at least had the temerity to admit taking performance-enhancing drugs, hit his 600th home run a short while ago, and the world at large could not possibly have cared any less. ESPN met the feat with barely more than a shrug. Baseball expert Buster Olney showed up to say he'd be voting for A-Rod for the Hall of Fame, despite his known PED use, just as he'd voted for McGwire and would vote for Bonds. Because there's no way to known who cheated and who didn't, let's just ignore the issue and move on.

No. We cannot just ignore the issue. I don't care how widespread their use was. I don't care how great an athlete Barry Bonds was before the steroids. I don't care that A-Rod only used them for a short time and believed they didn't enhance his performance. I don't care.

They cheated. Period. They did it on purpose. Period. They don't get into the Hall of Fame. They don't get acknowledged by history. They don't get to put themselves on the same level as Ruth, as Aaron, as Gibson, as DiMaggio, as Musial, as Matthewson, as Jackson, as Clemente. They are liars, cheaters and frauds. They should be banished.

Period.

Baseball has always been my favorite sport. Part of what attracted me to the game was its connection with its past: each game, each season, it felt like a piece of a constantly shifting, living history. Every moment was tied with those that came before.

And now, an enormous part of that living history is stained. Baseball's lifeblood has been poisoned. And those who did it don't seem all that torn up about it. They don't seem all that bent out of shape that they ruined the very sport that made them the rich superstars they are.

In 1919, eight players from the Chicago White Sox accepted money from gangsters to throw the World Series. While there's little-to-no evidence the players actually did lose on purpose -- especially the star, "Shoeless Joe" Jackson -- baseball could not tolerate the perception that the great game was anything less than legitimate. The eight players were tossed from baseball and barred from it for life. The taint from the scandal so damaged the game that, from that moment, anyone involved in baseball caught gambling on it -- like all-time hits leader Pete Rose -- was given a similar treatment.

The steroid users have done baseball a far greater disservice. The Black Sox threw one series; these cheaters have ruined decades of the sport, and done it all under a shroud of lies and unprovable allegations. And yet...Mark McGwire still works for a Major League team. Their names will come up on Hall of Fame ballots. Alex Rodriguez has yet to pay back any of the quarter billion dollars he's earned under fraudulent pretenses.

I don't expect Roger Clemens will actually go to prison. But I hope he will. I have to.

Because sometimes the bullies get their due.

Don't they?

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Rock-Paper-Scissors-Astros-Yankees

So: there go the Dodgers. And the Yankees are completely unbeatable right now, so it looks like we're stuck with two teams I don't give a damn about playing each other in the World Series. The baseball purist in me thinks that's perfect: the Yanks and the Phils appear to actually be the two best teams in baseball, which who you'd theoretically like to see play for the championship. The baseball fan in me, on the other hand, wants to root for somebody. And who could that possibly be?

And thus: the Official jwalkernet Baseball Rooting Matrix. A Rock-Paper-Scissors-esque ranking of every team in baseball. Of course, it's not exactly like RPS -- there is one unbeatable team. But it's close enough for our purposes.

Each team, obviously, has my support against every team beneath it...except the last team, who can all die in a fire. I wonder who that will be.
  1. Astros
  2. Red Sox
  3. Dodgers
  4. Mariners
  5. Twins
  6. Rays
  7. Rockies
  8. Diamondbacks
  9. Orioles
  10. Marlins
  11. Brewers
  12. Angels
  13. Athletics
  14. Royals
  15. Blue Jays
  16. Rangers
  17. Pirates
  18. Tigers
  19. Indians
  20. Padres
  21. Reds
  22. Cubs
  23. Nationals
  24. Phillies
  25. White Sox
  26. Mets
  27. Giants
  28. Cardinals
  29. Braves
  30. Yankees
So: go Phillies. I guess.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Failure to launch

I'd write about the playoffs, but a Yankees championship seems at this point so terrifyingly inevitable that I'd rather not think about it. So instead, let's talk about the Astros. More specifically, the surprising announcement that they're considering re-hiring Phil Garner as their manager.

You remember: Phil Garner took over after Jimy Williams was unceremoniously canned over the 2004 All-Star Break. Garner turned the team around and took them to the playoffs that year, then the World Series the following season. And then...well. 2006 wasn't so good, and 2007 was worse, leading to Garner himself getting the boot midseason. His replacement, Cecil Cooper, accomplished exactly fuckall and has since been fired.

So we're talking about a team that's gone through three managers in the last six seasons. A team that's wildly, frustratingly inconsistent, with wide gaping holes in its roster.

Honestly, does anyone think a manager is really going to make that much of a difference?

Go ahead, then. Bring Garner back. I'm not sure if he ever should have been fired in the first place. But hey -- maybe you should put the names of all the candidates in a hat and decide the manager that way. Because the problem with the Astros isn't who's drawing up the lineup cards. It's who's writing the checks.

'Cause let's all take a deep breath and say it together: the Astros suck. That's right. They suck. And unless the players get a major overhaul, this team is going nowhere and getting there at warp speed.

And the only ones who can do anything about that are the ones in the front office. But they've raised "treading water" to a damn art.

Look: I hate Andy Pettitte -- Petitte? Pettite? fuck it, Pettttitttttttee with an immeasurable rage, but you know what? He can still pitch his ass off. Maybe we should have been a tad nicer to him and just given him the four million dollars he was so bent out of shape about. Maybe instead of signing Roger Clemens those two years, we should have paid someone else a bajillion dollars to not win the big game. Maybe Miguel Tejada was a bad investment. Maybe letting Willy Taveras go was a bad idea. Hell, Clay Bucholz is apparently good now. What the hell?

So don't expect the Astros to be playing in any of the next few Octobers. No matter who gets the managing job. Because you can't expect Phil Garner to fix this team's problems.

Saturday, December 13, 2008

Reason #345 Roy Oswalt is my hero

He just offered to restructure his multimillion dollar contract to help the Astros sign some better players. Take one for the team, indeed.

It doesn't look like it will actually work -- big shock there -- but it's the thought that counts, is it not?

I don't see Tejada or Carlos Lee making that kind of offer, do you?

Good for you, Roy. Maybe Drayton should buy you another tractor.

Monday, May 26, 2008

Whoa, whoa, whoa, hang on a damn minute

As you may know, I tend to ascribe nicknames to baseball players. It's a habit. Conversely, I tend to disdain the nicknames such players ascribe to themselves -- that's my job, buddy.

Take, for instance, Lance Berkman. I've been calling him "Fat Elvis" for, oh, three years now. Lance, on the other hand, self-glossed himself "the Big Puma." I was unimpressed, and so was most of Houston -- I never heard anyone outside of Milo Hamilton call him that, and Milo's certifiably insane. (In a good way, mind you -- Milo's awesome. The greatest baseball announcer of all time, hands down.)

But now that Berkman's hitting like Mickey Mantle, the nickname is starting to actually catch on, despite how stupid it sounds. There's an article on the Astros website discussing the nickname and its popularity, and I find this:
It was Berkman who came up with the name. He was tired of being called "Fat Elvis," and during a semi-regular appearance on a local radio show two years ago, Berkman told the hosts he wanted to change things up.

"I'm like a Puma," Berkman said. At that moment, a cult hero was born. He's Lance Berkman, the Big Puma.

Nowadays, his manager refers to him as Big Puma. It's catching on with his teammates, too. And all because of Berkman's desire to replace the Fat Elvis label with a brand new image -- even if it's tongue-in-cheek.
Whoa -- who was calling Lance Berkman "Fat Elvis" and not telling me about it? That was mine, goddammit! Who stole it? Who?!

Oh, well. He's still Fat Elvis to me. And mean that in the nicest way, Lance, honestly. You're my favorite Astro (at least, current Astro). But...you're not a damn puma, okay? I don't care how far into your cheek you cram your tongue.

Now: is anyone else out there calling Morgan Ensberg "the Voyeur"? Because I will sue, damn you.

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Now playing: Jay-Z - Can't Knock the Hustle
via FoxyTunes

Thursday, May 08, 2008

A few notes

I've decided on the name of the next Revolver episode: "Hey Jealousy." It works on a few levels, as you'll see. (Assuming the title remains the same. Which it probably won't. You know how it goes.)

I've also resumed posts at A Great Disservice, if you hadn't noticed.

And now I see that there are new things on each post here: a place to give star ratings for my posts. I didn't ask for this. I don't know why it's there. But it's there. You can rate my posts if you want. I certainly won't mind. If the ratings are good, anyway. Never mind. It's gone now. What the hell?

And then here: watch this.



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Now playing: Gin Blossoms - Hey Jealousy
via FoxyTunes

Thursday, April 03, 2008

Count your blessings

1. Ah, yes: it's baseball season again. And the Astros' pumped-up new starting lineup got things going exactly the way you'd expect them to -- by losing their first two games, scoring all of one run in the process (and that came on a bases-loaded walk). But then last night, they blasted four home runs off two future Hall of Famers, made Trevor Freaking Hoffman blow a save, and won 9-6. So clearly they can hit when they need to. Which is a relief. And I like the way they're playing so far, despite the lack of scoring in the first two games. (And in their defense, they were up against two excellent pitchers in Jake Peavy and Chris Young. But still.) I remain cautiously optimistic, especially because we still don't have our full lineup out there yet (Kaz Matsui is still out with...um, an unfortunate injury), and we also play in the National League Comedy Central, the worst division in all of baseball. It's a total crapshoot.

2. I bought Beth Kinderman's album, All of My Heroes Are Villains, and you should, too. I've talked about her music at length before, but this is a real record -- recorded in a studio with a band and everything. It sounds phenomenal, particularly "Hannibal Lecter" and "Valley." So you should buy it. It came with a free bumper sticker, too. Here's a rundown, in my patented iTunes-screenshot review style:



3. I also bought Saturday Nights & Sunday Mornings, the new Counting Crows album, and it's probably their best record since Recovering the Satellites over ten years ago. Trust me: the catharsis to be found in singing the last verse of "Come Around" at the top of your lungs cannot be understated. "And one of the million lies she said / Is, 'Everything you love is dead' / But I've seen what she thinks is love, and it leaves me laughing / So we'll still come around."



4. Rock Band is the single greatest multiplayer game ever made. It's also the best music game ever made. It is impossible to describe how fun it really is. Our band, Scott Tenorman Must Die, broke the 500,000 fan threshold last night and earned our spot in the Rock Band Hall of Fame. Our best song? "Epic," of all things. We own these setlists. Except for "Green Grass and High Tides," which we have yet to complete. Not even once. But it's getting there.

5. For serious this time: I've restarted work on my Saying Story for this month, "Miles and Miles and Miles and Miles and Miles." It's about vampires. And ghosts. And the Who. What's not to love? You can check my progress with Regina Spektor in the sidebar.

6. Though most of it isn't written down, I have almost the entirety of the next Revolver episode in my head. So as soon as "Miles" is out of the way, that'll be coming.

7. My friends are surprisingly patient and supporting of my problems. (Though one of them, of course, laughs in my face when something bad happens, he sends very considerate e-mails.) Everything fell apart for me at once last month; on Tuesday, I think I made the first step toward building them back up again. And they'll be there when I do. Breathing a sigh of relief, I'm sure -- I'm insufferable when I'm depressed. Thank you, guys.

That list was longer than I thought it would be. But then, that's the point in counting them, isn't it?

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Now playing: Beth Kinderman - Princess
via FoxyTunes

Monday, March 31, 2008

Jon Miller is a sad, pathetic man

So, this is pretty funny.



But what's up with Jon Miller name-dropping 9/11 for no real reason whatsoever? Is he doing a Bush stump speech? The motherfucker can't throw out the first pitch without somebody mentioning it?

That is all.

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Now playing: Beth Kinderman - Hannibal Lecter
via FoxyTunes

Monday, January 07, 2008

He'd love to stay and chat longer, but the horses got out last night and he desperately needs to lock the barn doors

Of course, immediately after I finish excoriating Roger Clemens for being a flabby, whiny douchebag who won't sue his accuser because it's -- guffaw -- too expensive, he announces that yes, he will sue the guy after all.

Great, Roger. I hope the truth comes out. I hope I was wrong.

But where were you a fucking month ago? Why did you wait this long?

And most importantly: take that arrogance and put it away. You have no right to get mad at me because I don't just blindly accept your divinity. Be angry with McNamee, he's the guy allegedly lying about you.

God, I wish you would just go away. And never come back.

Take Bonds with you.

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Now playing: The Rolling Stones - Wild Horses
via FoxyTunes

Sunday, January 06, 2008

Bottle rocket

So Rawga Clemens showed up on 60 Minutes tonight. It's his first interview since the Mitchell Report and blah blah blah -- you know the story.

A month ago, a Senator stood up and called one of the greatest pitchers to ever walk the face of the earth a cheater. His response?

Nothing.

In the report, Rawga's former trainer describes personally injecting Clemens with testosterone while he played for Toronto. In a season the Rocket started 6-6, and then -- miraculously! -- turned into the second coming of Bob Gibson and went 14-0 down the stretch and picked up another Cy Young. How does Rawga respond? What does he fire back with?

Nothing.

Oh, he let a few nuggets slip out. "My family is taking it worse than I am." (That's Barry Bonds 101: throw your kids between you and the press.) "I am disappointed that my 25 years in public life have apparently not afforded me the benefit of the doubt." (25 years in public life in which you started fistfights and threw bats at people during the World Series and were well known as the most fanatically competitive human alive -- why are we not supposed to believe you cheated?) "I plan to publicly answer all of those questions in the appropriate time in the appropriate way." (A prerecorded interview over a month later with a self-described "friend" of yours. Riiiight.)

And now: the interview, finally. What does he say? Not much of anything. "I didn't do it, no, really, you gotta believe me" is what it boils down to. It wasn't steroids -- it was B-12. Barry Bonds 201: it wasn't steroids that bad, bad man gave me, it was [innocuous substance].

Of course, that same bad, bad man accused Andy Pettitte -- Rawga's BFF -- of cheating, and the Beak copped to it...in a squirrelly, quarter-assed kind of way. But he did admit that the Bad Man was telling the truth. So...he lied about Clemens, but told the truth about Pettitte? Why?

Clemens: The cases are "totally separate." Which is...actually not an answer.

He is, however, outraged that people would "assume" the report is true. "It's hogwash for people even to assume this," he bleated. "Twenty-four, twenty-five years, Mike. You'd think I'd get an inch of respect. An inch."

Ah, there's the Barry Bonds AP course: "I'm telling you the truth. And you know it's the truth because I said it's the truth and I'm very famous. What's your fucking problem?"

But hey -- maybe it is unfair to Clemens. He does deserve a chance to defend himself. I mean, we can't just take the word of a steroid dealer over the word of someone who isn't a proven steroid dealer. He should take that douchebag to court! Sue his ass! Then the truth will come out.

Oh, wait -- I detect the lamest excuse in the history of lame excuses on deck...

"Should I sue? Well, yeah, let me exhaust -- let me, let me just spend... [gestures, as though peeling off dollar bills]."

Yes, that's right: he would sue, but it's just too darn expensive. Those lawyers don't grow on trees.

Go. Fuck. Yourself.

Am I hallucinating, or did you get paid something in the region of $80 million in salary...for just the last four seasons? Good lord, how expensive is litigation? Fuck, just take him on one of those stupid courtroom shows they show between Maury Povich and Montell Williams, they'll pay your litigation costs!

And maybe it's costly, but come on, man -- we're talking about protecting the good name of a legacy you built for a quarter of a century. That's not worth spending some of that ungodly fortune?

"I don't know if I can defend myself," he whined. "I think people -- a lot of people have already made their decisions."

Yeah, dipshit. When you offer up nothing in your defense, hide behind your family, issue blank statements via your agents and lawyers, drop out of sight and don't even talk to anyone for a month, people have lots and lots of time to make up their minds. And then you have the nerve to get angry when people just don't assume that you're telling the truth.

Die in a fire, Clemens.

You cheater.

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Now playing: Elliott Smith - Junk Bond Trader
via FoxyTunes

Friday, December 14, 2007

Can we promote him to Three-Star General Manager?

Every few days, for the last few weeks, either Stephen or myself have muttered the same sentence regarding Ed Wade, the new general manager for the Astros:

"This guy's not fucking around."

Our problems going into the offseason:

1. We needed more offense.
2. We needed another outfielder.
3. We needed to get rid of Brad Lidge while he still had some vague trade value.
4. With him gone, we would need another closer.
5. We needed a second baseman -- Chris Burke was clearly not going to work as the heir apparent to Craig Biggio.
6. And many fans would really appreciate it if we got rid of Adam Everett, even though he's the best defensive shortstop in the game -- the man just can't frickin' hit to save his pointy-eared life.
7. And another starting pitcher would be nice.

That's a lot of work, but then the Astros were atrocious last year. They clearly needed a lot of work, even to compete in the National League "Comedy" Central.

Well, Wade has been on the job for less than three months now. What has he done?

1. He traded Brad Lidge to Philadelphia, picking up speedy centerfielder Michael Bourne. Problems 2 and 3: solved!
2. He signed Colorado's stellar second baseman Kaz Matsui. Problem 5: solved!
3. He made a huge trade, sending five guys to Baltimore in exchange for power-hitting shortstop Miguel Tejada. Problem 1: solved!
4. With Tejada, Everett was unnecessary, so we didn't bother resigning him. Problem 6: solved!
5. And now, he's just traded more castoffs (including poor Chris Burke) to Arizona for Jose Valverde, the best closer in the National League. Problem 4, solved!

In addition to that, he's made a few other moves that shored up our bullpen, and built a nice, speedy lineup that should be a lot of fun to watch next year.

Problem seven still remains. So of course, I read a rumor today that he's going after Mark Prior. A risky move, yes, but it would be an answer.

See? This guy's not fucking around.

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Now playing: The Strokes - Reptilia
via FoxyTunes

Friday, November 16, 2007

Santa did get my letter!

Barry Bonds has been indicted on federal charges of perjury and obstruction of justice.

Derek Jeter may be a tax cheat.

My name remains at the top of the waiting list for PlayStation 3s over at Partners. Should be within a couple weeks.

And the Rock Band people have finally announced the pricing and release schedule of some of the downloadable content. Available within the first month of release:
  • "Ride the Lightning," Metallica
  • "Blackened," Metallica
  • "...And Justice for All," Metallica
  • "Can't Stand Losing You," The Police
  • "Roxanne," The Police
  • "Fortunate Son," Creedence Clearwater Revival
  • "Bang a Gong (Get It On)," T-Rex
  • "Heroes," David Bowie
  • "N.I.B.," Black Sabbath
  • "War Pigs," Black Sabbath
  • "My Iron Lung," Radiohead
  • "Buddy Holly," Weezer
In the first month.

Christmas is early this year, huh?

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Now playing: AC/DC - Hard As A Rock
via FoxyTunes

Thursday, November 08, 2007

For you, Brad? I've got five

So, the Astros did what people have been screaming at them to do for a year and a half now: traded Brad Lidge. In this case, along with Eric Bruntlett to Philadelphia for five players. Take up thy gascan and walk, Mr. Lidge. Don't let the bullpen door hit you in the ass on the way out.

But I'm sure he'll do well in Philly. I mean, it's not like they've ever had a problem with longball-prone closers before.



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Now playing: Regina Spektor - Fidelity
via FoxyTunes

Sunday, October 28, 2007

I heard Game 6 was awesome, too

So Major League Baseball has the most awesome thing I've ever seen on their website: for two bucks, you can buy complete videos of old baseball games. World Series games, playoff games, important milestones -- two bucks gets you the whole thing. Cool, huh?

But here's an interesting one:

Yes -- that's Game 5. Of the 2005 World Series. Which only lasted four games. No, really it did. Trust me, I remember this one vividly.

I'm downloading Game 1 of the 1988 Series as we speak. Not much of a surprise, huh?

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Now playing: The Beatles - I'll Be Back
via FoxyTunes

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Did anyone get the number of that truck?

So, the World Series started exactly the way I was afraid it would: with the Red Sox dropping a massive beatdown on the poor Rockies, 13-1. Hell, Dustin Pedroia hit a leadoff homer, and the first four Rockies up struck out. That's not good.

And is there any hope at all for the Rockies? No. Nope. None at all. It's over.

No, I'm serious. Forget it.

And by the way, is anyone else watching this "Imaginationland" trilogy going on on South Park right now? FRINAN and I agree -- it's a fascinating and compelling story, and a wonderful idea that Matt and Trey are clearly having a blast with...it's just not very funny. The numerous pop culture references are generally good for a chuckle, and the return of the Woodland Critters -- from my favorite episode -- was downright genius. But, again: while it's brilliant, and maybe even a landmark for the series...it's not funny. It's like those Weird Al songs I like just for the music.

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Now playing: Aimee Mann - The Fall of the World's Own Optimist
via FoxyTunes

Sunday, October 21, 2007

Two teams enter, only one will leave

Just glancing at the final score -- Boston 11, Cleveland 2 -- makes Game 7 of the ALCS look like a blowout, but it wasn't. The game remained tense throughout, with the Red Sox clinging to a one-run lead for several innings. A baserunning mistake here, a fielding error over there, but the game stayed close. And then the Indians' bullpen imploded in glorious fashion, giving up eight runs in two innings (allowing five of them to be driven in by pint-sized leadoff man Dustin Predroia), and that's all she wrote. Hey, Cleveland, remember what Manny Ramirez said about losing the LCS -- there's always next year. It's not the end of the world. Who cares? (Oh, right: Indians fans.)

But now we have our Thunderdome match -- the experienced, fully-loaded Boston Red Sox against the youthful children of destiny, the Colorado Rockies, who haven't lost a game in a month. I have to give the edge to the Sox -- they've got home field advantage, they've got bigger firepower, they've got Josh Beckett, and the Rockies have been sitting at home playing Halo 3 for a week waiting for them to finish with the Indians. But who wouldn't love to see the Rockies complete this streak? (Oh, right: Red Sox fans. Honestly, I'm happy either way. I like both teams.)

This could a series for the ages, folks. Or it could be an embarrassing clusterfuck, like last year. Makes no difference to me -- I'm pumped.

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Now playing: Elliott Smith - Waltz #2 (Xo)
via FoxyTunes

Friday, October 19, 2007

Nice try

You have to be a pretty good pitcher to make the other team fear you when they've won three in a row and just need one more to win the series altogether.

Josh Beckett is that good.

The guy is just insanely good in the postseason -- he's thrown something like three shutouts in the playoffs in his career, and he shut the Indians down completely in Game 1. So for last night's game, the Indians needed some way -- any way -- to get in his head, even though they were up 3-1. So what did they do? Alter their approach at the plate? Switch around their starting lineup? Change uniforms?

No. They got his ex-girlfriend to sing the National Anthem. I swear to you, this actually happened. The Indians claim it was "unintentional." Riiiiight.

I'm not sure what's funnier: that the Indians actually brought Josh Beckett's ex to sing the anthem before he pitched perhaps the most crucial game of his career, or that it didn't work: Beckett was brilliant again and the Sox escaped to fight another day.

Next time, get Carl Lewis to sing the National Anthem. That will be a distraction.

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Now playing: Beth Kinderman - Distraction
via FoxyTunes

Sunday, October 07, 2007

Gee, Chang not see that coming

Rawga Clemens gave up three runs and left in the third inning with a hamstring injury. Wow, that's a surprise. Were you surprised? I was surprised. That's eleventy billion dollars well-spent, eh, Yankees? Of course, the rest of the team actually managed to pull it together and win the damn game without him, which shows they still have some spark. That actually is a shock.

A-Rod's postseason batting average is now .200, if you're counting. Which I am. For no real reason, except that the other playoffs series were all three-and-out (so much for my baseless prediction of the Angels winning it all), so the Yanks-Indians are all I have to focus on.

I dread the Yankees making a comeback. Not only because I hate the Yankees, and certainly not because I like the Indians, but because really -- do we want to see the Red Sox and Yankees again? That rivalry is played out, seriously. It's like watching Steve Austin vs. The Undertaker for the fourteenth time to headline a pay-per-view. Move on!

(That's a wrestling reference that not everyone will understand. But the analogy is potent, I assure you. For fun, figure out which of those teams would be the Undertaker.)

Ah well. May the best team win! Unless it's the Yankees.

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Now playing: The Decemberists - I Was Meant for the Stage
via FoxyTunes

Saturday, October 06, 2007

I've got your mystique right here


So, here's a big shock: the Yankees are down 2-0, one win away from being tossed from the playoffs in the first round...again. They haven't made it to the second round since 2004. Haven't made it to the World Series since 2003. Haven't won since 2000.

Yes: they're the 21st century's answer to the Atlanta Braves, who won their division every year from 1991 to 2005 and only won the Series once.

Why? Why does this great baseball team so consistently fall apart -- in such spectacular fashion -- in the postseason, often to a seemingly inferior team like the Indians? (Or the Red Sox, or Tigers, or Diamondbacks, or Angels, or...?) Performance anxiety? Nerves? Bad luck?

Or is it -- gasp! -- that the Yankees aren't that good to begin with.

Look at it this way: playing in the American League East, the Yankees play most of their games against their division rivals. This includes the top-shelf Boston Red Sox, yes, but it also means the Yankees are spending most of their time beating up on the likes of the Devil Rays and Orioles...two teams with a combined record of 132-189. (The other team in their division, the Blue Jays, managed to scrape to a winning record, though just barely.) The Indians, meanwhile, managed the same record as the Yankees, but played in a slightly tougher division: the worst team, the Royals, had the same finish as the fourth-place team in the East.

The Braves of the 90s and early 00s had the same problem: they won their division with ease each year, but did so against the Mets, Marlins, Phillies, and Expos (later the Nationals), four organizations that fielded mediocre teams, if they were lucky.

And once they got into the playoffs and matched up against good teams...well, the Braves couldn't hack it.

The Yankees teams of the late 90s -- those were great teams. But nowadays, they're old, bloated, and injury-prone. Much like their expected Game 3 starter, Rawga Clemens, whose inability to perform in the clutch is infamous.

Oh, and A-rod? Through the first two games, he's batting a robust .000. Yay!

Of course, the Yankees could erupt, win 3 straight to get to the LCS, and then eight in a row to win everything and make me look like a fool. Such is baseball. Such is life.

I love the playoffs.

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Now playing: The Decemberists - Eli, The Barrow Boy
via FoxyTunes

Sunday, September 30, 2007

The most wonderful time of the year

Ah, yes: it's that time of year again. October. Baseball playoff time. My favorite month. Bring on the drama!

Okay, so the Astros aren't going this year. But you know who else isn't going? The New York Mets, thanks to the biggest collapse in the history of Major League Baseball, leaving the door open for the Phillies (who managed to actually man up and walk through it, for the first time in fourteen years). And the collapse wouldn't have been as grand and hilarious if not for today's theatrics: the Mets needed to win to clinch the division, so they sent out Tom Glavine, their Hall of Fame-bound, 300 game winner to the hill...and he gives up seven runs in the first inning. He gets one guy out. One. The Marlins load the bases, and Glavine hits the batter. The batter being the opposing team's pitcher. (It was the first -- and I'm sure Glavine hopes the last -- time he had ever hit a pitcher. Ever.) Glorious!

And tomorrow we get a prologue to the postseason glory, as the Padres have to play a one-game playoff with the Rockies to determine the NL Wild Card. Like the Mets, the Pads could've clinched with a win today, but they let the Brewers dump eleven runs on them, so no dice.

Over in the AL, it's the annual battle for the right to try to beat the Motherfucking Yankees. The Indians get first crack at it, and here's hoping for a repeat of the Pinstripes' performance last year.

So who's going to win everything? What's my prediction? Well, I'm an awful prognosticator, but I'll stick my neck out here: the Angels. I base this on...nothing at all. A guess.

A more worthwhile guessing game: how many points under .200 will Alex Rodriguez's postseason batting average be? I say 24.