Oh, You Poor Idiot Cubs Fans

My Dad sent me the above video this morning and even though it is only remotely related to baseball, I found the punch line funny enough to post it here anyway. It seems the Cubs are the butt of a lot of jokes these days. Apparently that's what happens when you choke away a National League best record in three quick playoff games, thereby extending your World Series drought to a nice and shiny 100 years. What a pity! Couldn't happen to a bigger bunch of douchenozzles.

Anyhow, as you can imagine, it's awfully quiet on the streets of Chicago this week. With both the Cubs and White Sox getting brutally eliminated from the playoffs, no one around here is particularly interested in talking about baseball. Which is really too bad, as I have SO MUCH TO SAY! I'm finding it rather difficult to control myself, if I'm being honest. Watching the Cubs get swept out of the playoffs was so much fun, it is quickly becoming one of my favorite hobbies. And that joy is nearly impossible to bottle up, my friends! It's a damn shame that I don't have more people to share it with. In any case, I suppose the important thing is that at long last, this national nightmare is OVER. There will be no more obnoxious Cubs fans yapping in my ear about how "this is the year" and how "it's gonna happen". Clearly, my friends, you've been mistaken. You must have forgotten which team you were cheering for.

Two Down, One To Go

I'm trying really hard not to get ahead of myself here, but the last couple of days have been awfully satisfying. A text message from my father this morning said, "Is it bad to enjoy others misery?" And while I know the politically correct and morally obvious answer, I just can't get rid of this completely giddy feeling in my stomach. As nervous as I've been the past two days, you'd think it were the Cardinals in the playoffs. Although in all actuality, this has been much more fun. I mean, I REMEMBER being in the playoffs. It is, for the most part, a completely miserable and unenjoyable experience. In 2006, I didn't sleep for three weeks. My dreams were haunted by David Eckstein, Jeff Weaver and Yadier Molina. It was heinous and awful and utterly gut wrenching. I felt nauseous ALL THE TIME. It's almost cruel that eight different fan bases have to go through this every year. That being said, after this long and excruciating summer of hearing everyone in Chicago holler about this "team of destiny", I can't help but feel vindicated that the Cubs lie on the precipice of elimination. Again, no one needs to tell me how evil I am or how terrible it is that I feel this way. I'm completely aware of how selfish and wrong it may be. Yet, here I am. A temporary Dodgers fan. What a whirlwind!

The strangest part of the past 48 hours has not been how I've served as a target for angry and disgruntled Cubs fans, because that makes some kind of sense. (For example, one of my friends called me in a drunken stupor on Wednesday night accusing me of using a Ryan Dempster voodoo doll.) No, the weird part is how some of them have sought me out as a theoretical sympathetic soul. This, I cannot understand. Why anyone would turn to me for comfort in this situation, I have no idea. My ability to remain neutral was lost YEARS ago. I mean, I think I've made my pure and unadulterated distaste quite clear. Yet, here I am. A temporary Cubs fan therapist. Who ever woulda thunk it? Granted, I'm not very good at it and end up offending someone far more frequently than I end up helping them, but still. Some of these wackos actually give me enough credit as a PERSON to commiserate with their misfortune! Huh. Sports fandom sure is funny sometimes.

This Is Nightmare Fuel

Good grief, is it STILL baseball season? I'm honestly not even sure. I haven't really been paying attention. I know the Cardinals are officially out of playoff contention, but they've been UNofficially out of playoff contention for so long, I hardly noticed the difference. It just wasn't gonna happen. So as a method of dealing with my grief and frustration over the last several weeks, I've ignored everything associated with this soul sucking sport as a whole. I've turned down really incredible Cubs tickets (twice!) just because I didn't think I could stomach the POSSIBILITY of "Go, Cubs, Go". Watching those assholes plow over opposing pitchers like Zambrano at an all-you-can-eat baby buffet isn't painful in an "aw shucks" kind of way anymore. It actually pisses me off. If I even so much as THINK about the Cubs in the playoffs, I get myself so worked up in a tizzy that I can hardly control what's coming out of my mouth. I'll punctuate unrelated and otherwise innocuous conversations with anti-Cub tirades like someone with Tourette's. Anyone that's actually stupid enough to taunt me with the current state of affairs is likely to get an earful of poorly constructed and expletive laced proclamations about their intellectual ineptitude, physical misfortune and questionable lineage. It's an instant and visceral reaction. I can't help it. I know I'm being a bad sport and acting like a spoiled toddler, but I am powerless against the burning, raw hatred. The mere idea of Cubs fans enjoying themselves makes me want to bludgeon someone to death with a tire iron. Is this normal and healthy? My therapist doesn't seem to think so, but what the hell does she know?

It's an EXPLOSION!!!!!

There are not words in the English language to express how absolutely ELATED I was on Saturday. Despite the Redbirds dropping two of three to the Cubs and Chris Carpenter leaving Sunday's contest with a strained tricep, I am still paralyzed with delight over the gem I got to ingest that brilliant afternoon. I saw with my very own eyes a TRUE Zambrano Explosion. And I gotta tell you, it was even more magical than I could have imagined. Until now, I just thought it was a myth, an urban legend. Like unicorns and fat free pizza, the Explosion only ever existed in my wildest dreams. But I witnessed that electrifying meltdown in person! 9 runs! A Skip Schumaker home run! An Albert Pujols home run! TWO Troy Glaus home runs! There were disgruntled Cubs fans EVERYWHERE! To see him collapse under the weight of his own mustache (against his old buddy Todd Wellemeyer, no less,) was one of the most satisfying moments I've had as a St. Louis fan in Chicago. It. Was. AWESOME. And the most beautiful thing was just how UNEXPECTED it was! I went into that day with the lowest of expectations. The possibility of Zambrano being anything but annoyingly effective was FAAARRR from my consciousness. He notoriously feeds off of this rivalry, after all, and NEVER loses to the Cardinals. That game was lost in my head before it even started, so by the time Big Z took the mound I had already sunk into an appropriate state of depression. (I was truly delightful company, I'm sure.) Then Skip Schumaker doubled off that first little nugget and it only got more exhilarating from there. It's common knowledge that once Big Ball Scratcher McGee gets a wee bit rattled, he totally unravels and Saturday was no exception. WEEEEE!!! When it was all said and done, 12-3 was the final and my family floated out of the stadium in complete disbelief. Had we really just seen that? Did that actually happen? I was so happy, so surprised, so VINDICATED that I could hardly stand it! That win was huge for the Cardinal fans, even if it was only relevant for 24 hours. In fact, I don't know that I've never been this giddy about a Redbird triumph over the Scrubbies. This one was personal, dammit!

Anyhow, it is worth mentioning that this gorgeous slice of baseball cheesecake might be the last joyful happenstance of the summer. With Carpenter suffering another injury so soon after coming off an 18 month stay on the DL and the bullpen apparently trying to audition for America's Funniest Home Videos, the Cards have fallen 7 games out of first place and 3 games behind the surging Brewers. Things are not looking good. However, for right this minute, I don't care. I got to see my team take down its most loathed foe on a sunny day in enemy territory. I think I'm going to just bask in that for a few days.

So THAT'S How It's Gonna Be

One thing I want to make clear is the fact that I am completely aware that Jim Edmonds (formerly of the St. Louis Cardinals) plays for the Chicago Cubs. So far as I know, he's been here since May. From what I understand, he's having a pretty good go of things. That being said, I do not need to hear from every single Cubs fan that I know every single time that man takes a crap. Seriously. I have cable. I can watch SportsCenter just like every other person in the country. Sometimes when the wind blows right, I can even HEAR the joyous sounds from Wrigley. I usually assume Jim Edmonds has done something useful when my phone starts lighting up like Time freakin' Square. Basically, my point is that I am pretty much over it. He's a Cubs player. Just like Derrek Lee, Alfonso Soriano and Sucky Dome, I hope he doesn't hit home runs against the Cardinals. Does it make it any more painful when he does? I don't necessarily think so. A bitter pill is a bitter pill no matter who the nurse.

Anyhow, I'm already tired of this weekend and it hasn't even hardly started. My Dad and I were talking at dinner and think we're both doomed before we start. By which I mean we are pissed off before we even arrive at the gates of Wrigley. It's going to be a long day. If my Dad ends up murdering someone we are all in for a treat on Monday. Special Chicago Redbird "Jailbreak Addition"!

This Is Going To Suck

I am in for a very long weekend. Regardless of how things actually end up going for the Cardinals, I'm going to be a total nervous wreck. As the Redbirds prepare for their first trip to Wrigley this year, they are 6 games back from the Cubs and one game behind the second place Brewers. In terms of important games, it doesn't get much more significant than this. A sweep in either direction would be momentous as it would either toss us into the cellar or inch us back up into the pennant race. I'm actually getting nauseous just thinking about it.

Anyway, I'm going to try and ignore the Looper vs. Lilly match up this afternoon for the sake of my own mental health and sanity. My folks blow into town tonight, along with some of the most obnoxious Cubs fans I've ever had the distinct displeasure of knowing. We are all attending tomorrow afternoon's Wellemeyer vs. Zambrano contest and my attitude is as sour as a box of lemons soaked in battery acid. I mean, there is not one little bit of me that thinks I'm going to see a win. In fact, I'm not even sure why I'm going. I will inevitably sit there all day like a time bomb of anxiety only to be heckled incessantly by fair weather Jim Edmonds sycophants. It's going to be excruciating. The only thing I can hope for is a legendary Zambrano Explosion. The way things have been going, we're going to need to score approximately 37 runs.

Speaking of which, it appears as though Jason Isringhausen has finally completed his colossal and humiliating fall from grace. (Which has resembled someone tripping over a crack in the sidewalk, scuffing his knee, pulling himself back up only to run into a pole and fall into a trash can which tips over and rolls into the street before getting crushed by a dump truck.) After playing games with my heart (literally!) all year long, his giant choke job against the Dodgers on Tuesday night pretty much crushed any illusion I still had that he could legitimately throw baseballs for money. Now, I know I give Izzy a hard time and regularly mock his uncanny abilitiy to induce heart failure, but this whole situation is lamentable and incredibly sad. He's been a huge asset to this team and has contributed immeasurably to the success in St. Louis over the last few years. It's really unfortunate his legacy as a Cardinal closer has to end with the kind of catastrophe demonstrated on Tuesday night. Worse, is that scenarios like that have become so increasingly common over the course of the last few season. At this point, we just EXPECT him to give up 6 runs in the ninth inning. Which is fine, as long as Ryan Ludwick and Albert Pujols are in the mood to crush monster home runs into the bleachers. However, that's not always going to be the case. It's time to start figuring out an alternative plan that does NOT rely on walk off homers and prayer. Now that the starting rotation is slowly returning to form with Carpenter's return and Wainwright's rehab assignment, someone needs to do something to make the bullpen appear more like a "relief corp" and less like an "execution squad". I think there's actually some talent in there somewhere if only they'd stop panicking like asthmatics at a bowling alley. I'm convinced at this point that, while Franklin, Thompson, Springer and Co. are not quite emulating Izzy, they are EMPATHIZING with him. Those are sympathy meatballs, kids. And it must stop! Izzy's self image and confidence issues are not your problem, gentleman! Let's get it together!

In any case, I'm just hoping this weekend isn't a complete failure. It'd be nice to watch a couple of games and enjoy a couple of beers without having an idiot Cubs fan in my face every other second. The thought of that is almost laughable in it's naivety, as I suppose that's just the way it is. After all, no day at the ballpark is complete without telling a good "Cards take in the Pujols" joke. Jesus...I'm annoyed already. If I make it through Sunday without lighting someone on fire, I think I should be declared eligible for a Nobel prize.

Point/Counterpoint: To Boo Or Not To Boo?

After the series in New York this past weekend, I engaged my good friend K-Dog (a DIE HARD Mets fanatic) in a little conversation about the rules of east coast fandom and the merits (or lack thereof) in booing players. I initially broached the topic with a casual email expressing bewilderment over the New York faithful booing my man Albert Pujols on Sunday afternoon. Her comments so intrigued and exasperated me that I've decided to post them here along with my response. What follows is that conversation in full.

Me: Okay, K-Dog…I have a bone to pick. I watched as much of the Mets/Cards game yesterday that I could stomach and was a little disturbed by what I saw. (Aside from you kicking our ass, that is.) You guys were booing ALBERT PUJOLS! I couldn’t believe it! What the heck is up with that? You can’t boo Big Al! I’m starting to wonder if you crazy New Yorkers even like sports. Unbelievable!!!

PS: I was watching David Wright yesterday and you know…it’s really too bad he’s so unfortunate looking.

PPS: My Dad thinks he might like to have Jose Reyes play for the Cardinals. He thinks that kid might have a future.

K-Dog: We boo those who tend to murder us with heavy hitting. Chipper Jones and Pat Burrell for instance. We hate them. See, the importance and very backbone of New York sports fandom is this: we appreciate good baseball/football/insert sport here, when it benefits us only. And more often than not, as long as you performed well for us while you were here, we welcome you with open arms even when you perform well for an opposing team. Mike Piazza, for example - it might have been the first ever opposing team curtain call by a player in history. He hit a home run against the Mets on his first trip back to Shea and his loyal New York fans requested a curtain call after he took the the lead from us. We are fiercely loyal when and only when you give us something to be happy about. If you don't, we will throw you to the wolves so fast your head will spin. Slump or not, we don't give a shit what the hell is going on with you - you're making millions of dollars to hit and catch baseballs - make it happen.

As for Pujols - its part of New York baseball. When a guy hits a 2 run homer in the top of the 27th inning at 4 in the morning to beat us, we don't like him. Imagine Manny Ramirez & David Ortiz darkening Yankee Stadium's doorstep. It matters not that Ramirez might be one of the best right handed hitters in baseball. As far as Yankee fans are concerned, he causes them great pain and is therefore the devil. He, his children, his grandparents, his pets, etc. deserve whatever comes their way. It's part of the experience. We are equal opportunity booers, however. While we boo Pujols for killing us, we just as heavily, perhaps more so, boo our own players when they're killing us as well. As much as we may not care for Pujols at this time, we actually HATE Aaron Heilman, (i.e. the guy who gave up the 2 run winning homer in the 27th inning.) Loathing would not be an exaggeration. That guy must actually dread getting the call. We see him warming up in the bullpen and immediately start massaging our temples. Carlos Delgado was getting it pretty good for a while, too. Then he hit 9 RBI's at Yankee Stadium last month, tying a NY Mets record. At his first at bat at Shea that night (after a day/night double header, the 1st in the Bronx, the 2nd at Shea), he received a thunderous standing ovation.

We have simple requests: those that oppose us must not hit against us; those whose paychecks depend somewhat on our season ticket holdings must earn them. Otherwise, go f*$& yourself.

As for David Wright, he is just downright hot - it makes me happy to look at him. Plus it doesn't hurt that he's actually pretty good at baseball. You can't have Jose - aside from his idiotic dancing and handshakes in the dugout, he's extremely good at baseball and he's very entertaining to watch. And speaking of good at baseball, have you seen my new best friend Fernando Tatis? The man is on a serious hot streak. It seems singles are no longer good enough - doubles, triples and homers seem to be much more preferable for him.

Me: I think you could have summarized all of that quite succinctly just by saying “New York sports fans are crazy lunatics.” I didn’t realize there was such a method to your madness! Do you all receive some kind of manual at birth?

I just really HATE booing. My argument here is three-fold:

First of all, the way New York treats its athletes makes me want to have you all treated for bi-polar disorder. I sincerely empathize with anyone who plays on the east coast. It takes a special person to be able to tune that out and just try and do your job. In all reality, there are probably very few who are either a) super-humanly talented enough or b) strong minded enough to get through a stint out there without having batteries thrown at them or requiring therapy. When it’s good, it’s good, but when it’s BAD??? Jesus. These guys damn near have to put their families in protective custody. And that’s all before the media gets a hold of them! It’s a bit silly, no? Trying to find guys resilient enough to handle that has to significantly shrink your talent pool.

Second, I understand booing total assholes. (Perfect example: Carlos Zambrano!) But booing someone just because they are a good athlete and do not play for your team makes absolutely no sense. I may not look forward to people like Carlos Beltran coming to the plate, but for crying out loud…I think the man has earned his respect from Cardinals fans over the years. He’s not raped my sister, set my house on fire or otherwise done anything to me personally to inspire actual vitriol. Therefore, while I sincerely hope he strikes out, he’s f@#$ing GOOD. I’ve got to appreciate that even if I don’t necessarily LIKE it. What is my booing really going to do about it anyway?

Third, I don’t believe any professional athlete ever truly earns their paycheck. No one should get paid that much to play a damn game. However, me booing an overpaid baseball player is not going to deprive him of his millions OR inspire him to play better. Therefore, why waste the energy?

Basically, my point is…it’s a damn game! It’s sports and entertainment! Unfortunately, perpetual frustration comes with the package. I want to murder Jason Isringhausen 100 times a year, but it makes me sublimely sad to see him booed off the field at Busch Stadium. Where’s the fun in kicking someone when they’re down? I’ll swear violently under my breath, thank you very much.

PS: I also DESPISE fans that heckle the visiting outfielders. Grow up already, you drunken buffoons. There was a guy doing that when we were down in St. Louis and I wanted to throw a hot dog at him. Stop behaving like the Wrigley Field bleacher monkeys! You’re embarrassing me!

Stop Losing, Dammit!

It really shouldn't surprise me, but the Cardinals have managed to take me from the highest of highs to the lowest of lows in only a matter of days. Just when it seemed as though they were an unstoppable force of nature, my beloved Redbirds have spent the past six days crapping the metaphorical bed. It's been positively DEPRESSING. After losing 5 out of the last 6, including a 4 game sweep by the surging Milwaukee Brewers (who we OWNED earlier this year!!) and a couple of shellackings by the white hot New York Mets, the Cards are 4 games back and lodged in third place. I just really don't think it's fair for them to give me the illusion that they are a decent baseball team and then piss it away in such dramatic fashion! Granted, beating up on the poor little San Diego Padres may not have been the strongest indicator of talent and skill but STILL...doesn't momentum count for ANYTHING? You'd think these guys would have gone into that Milwaukee series with a little bit of swagger and attitude. Instead it looked like they were sleepwalking. (Which, I should mention, is completely possible and totally understandable by this point. I don't think the Cardinals have had a day off since January. Aren't there some kind of labor laws that prevent teams from playing for 18 straight days?)

The good news is that Chris Carpenter is scheduled to make his first start on Wednesday since he went on the DL last spring. I'm hoping that between him and Adam Wainwright rejoining the rotation that there might be some redeeming value left in the season. I know it's a little premature to give up on the year with two months left to play and the divisional race being as tight as it is, but honestly, the games I watched this weekend didn't inspire a great deal of confidence. Our starters can't make it through the 5th inning, the bullpen can't stop giving up home runs and it appears as though scoring more than 4 runs in any given game is downright impossible. As hard as he tries, Albert Pujols can't do EVERYTHING!

That being said, this slump couldn't come at a better time for me personally. I don't think I've had a complete nervous breakdown in weeks, so this ought to take care of that. Whew!

SWEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!!

I may have nearly died of a heat stroke, but I returned from St. Louis a VERY happy woman. Three days, three games and three exciting wins make this another doozy for the record books. With a win on Thursday night before we even arrived, the Cardinals were able to complete a 4 game sweep of San Diego and catapult themselves within 2 games of the Scrubbies. (Who lost two of three to Houston over the weekend. So sad!) Not a bad way to kick things off after the All-Star break, eh?

We kicked the weekend off in true Trumbull fashion on Friday night by attending the Champion's Club at Busch Stadium, where we were encouraged to drink excessively. With a license to eat and drink whatever we wanted, you best believe we were prepared to get our money's worth! As it turns out, we needed all the sustenance we could get, as the game lasted for what felt like 9 hours. When it was all said and done, there were 24 combined base hits and 18 runs. Ryan Ludwick smacked a 3 run homer in the 4th (his 22nd) and Ricky Ankiel fought through a 12 pitch at-bat in the 7th for his 22nd dinger of the year. Plus, a ton of other stuff happened, including Braden Looper looking anything but inspiring. He was as sharp as a doorknob right out of the gate and ultimately capped off his gem of a performance with a two-run homer to Jody Gerut in the 4th. Fortunately, five relievers were able to combine for six innings and gave up only one additional run on four hits. In fact, despite some cynical prognostications from my mother, even Jason Isringhausen didn't totally embarrass himself. (No, he saved that for Sunday. More on that later!) After 4 more runs in the 8th, the Cards won it 11-7 and we stumbled back to the hotel drunk on victory.

Without a doubt, the coolest thing that happened on Friday night was me skyrocketing to inevitable fame after being flashed on the Jumbotron. My Dad and I participated in a pre-taped segment before the game in which they asked us what we thought the Padres were named after. I mumbled and stuttered like an idiot without a clue, which was apparently amusing enough to use in the final piece. We're still trying to figure out what they must have done with the footage they shot of Dad, as he carried on for a good few minutes about monks, robes and the color of his own eyes. We came to a joint conclusion that it's being used to entertain the vendors in the breakroom.

Saturday began with a trip to the Cardinals Team Store, where I purchased more crap I most certainly do not need. Following a light lunch of cheeseburgers, fries and pizza at J. Bucks, we hauled our buns back to the ballpark for the 2:55 start. And let me tell you something...it was HOT. We were naturally sitting right in direct sunlight and it got so toasty by the third inning that I was actually running out of places to wipe my sweat. It also got downright depressing as Todd Wellemeyer gave up 5 runs in the first two innings before finally settling the heck down. (He was able to then pitch scorelessly until he was removed in the 7th and retired 14 of the final 16 batters he faced.) Albert Pujols hit a three-run double in the 5th to pull it within 2. After RBI singles by both Rick Ankiel and Skip Schumaker, Big Al knocked in one more in the 6th to put the Redbirds ahead for the 6-5 win. Seriously...that man is a freak of nature. I don't remember what they're paying him, but I'm sure it's nowhere near what he's worth. He's like a superhero or something.

Anyway, the crew was getting a little weary by Sunday. We'd gone out for a celebratory Italian feast on Saturday night that had left a few of us a bit, shall we say...dehydrated. Combined with the impending 96 degree heat we'd been promised for that afternoon, pretty much all of us were convinced we were going to pass out and die by the 4th inning. Luckily, that didn't happen or we would have missed one of the most awesome endings to a game that I've ever seen. None of us had great expectations going in, as both Pujols and Yadier Molina were resting and Jaime Garcia was on the mound for his first major league start EVER. However, it ended up being a wild game in which the Cardinals came from behind in the 8th, saw the lead evaporate courtesy of Jason Isringhausen in the top of the 9th and surged back for good in the bottom of that same inning with an Aaron Miles walk-off grand slam. Albert Pujols was brought in to scare the crap out of people in the 8th, which is when Troy Glaus hit a 3-run bomb to put the Cards in front. This being the Cardinals bullpen (leading the Majors with 23 blown saves!) that wasn't going to be nearly enough run support. Izzy and Little Brad Thompson proceeded to cough up enough meatballs to tie things up, which actually made things far more exciting in the end. So, thanks for being so frustratingly poor at throwing baseballs, gentleman! Anyway, after Pujols drew a walk and made it to third on a failed pick-off attempt, both Yadi and Skippy were intentionally walked. Enter Mr. Miles and his big fat grandie! WOOHOO!!!!! I needed multiple martinis, a big steak AND some cheesecake in order to adequately celebrate that ridiculous hot mess of an afternoon. (I should mention that I also desperately required a SHOWER.) St. Louis now has 24 come-from-behind wins and 12 final-at-bat wins this year. I'm being told that means these guys are a scrappy bunch of ballplayers. I'm personally inclined to think it means they're a bunch of damn drama queens, but either way I hope they keep it up.

So, now...despite dropping two in a row to Milwaukee (including the game Monday night in which we nearly came back AGAIN!), we are still resting just 2 games behind the first place Scrubbies and 1 behind the now second place Brewers. This ought to make the rest of this season a complete and total NIGHTMARE. I'm tired of hearing about the wild card race already! Anyway, I'm headed back to Iowa this weekend, which means I'll be able to catch a couple more games on TV. (I'm not terribly concerned with seeing any of the people that live there, considering I ran into three different groups of people from my hometown at different times over the weekend. To be honest, it kind of creeped me out.) It would be really special if we could split this series with the Brew Crew and go into the weekend with some momentum. I suppose the good news is that either way, I'll be able to watch those games without having to deal with sweat and sunblock running into my eyes or my legs sticking to the bottom of my seat. See, that's just how I am, people. Always looking on the bright side of things! It's amazing how delusional you can get with the right amount of sun and alcohol poisoning.

Your Mid-Season, All-Star Break Baseballooza!!!

Good grief, I've been a lazy blogger this summer! Here we are on the day of the All-Star game (i.e. my favorite day of the entire season! Pointless baseball!!! WOOHOO!!!!) and I haven't mentioned my complete disdain for this mid season debacle even ONCE. I don't know what's wrong with me. Anyhow, in the slapdash, haphazard and loosely organized fashion that I've adopted this year, I will attempt to recap the last several weeks. Try to keep up, would ya?

• First and most importantly, I'm gearing up for the big annual family trip to St. Louis this weekend. I'm hoping for three things: 1) A decimating humiliation of the San Diego Padres, 2) a decent steak and 3) sub-Amazonian humidity levels. I just can't drink beer efficiently when the back of my legs are sweating.


• The Cubs took 2 of 3 from the Redbirds in St. Louis over the 4th of July weekend. I officially stopped speaking to approximately 78% of my friends and almost quit my job.


• Much was made about Jim Edmond's comments regarding his new role in Chicago and Tony LaRussa's angry reaction to them. My take? Jimmy is a Cardinal and always will be. He can (and should) say whatever he needs to say to endear himself to the Chicago public while he's here. In the end, I think we all know where his best years were and where his heart is. I will not begrudge him the opportunity to play and it's nice to see he's still got some mojo. That being said, Jim Edmonds can go suck on jet fuel. It is, by default, my obligation to hate him and all that he stands for while wearing that uniform. I don't make the rules, people.


• I spent the actual 4th of July holiday up in Milwaukee at Miller Park. If I were to indulge you in the details of that trip, you would more than likely (and probably rightfully) judge me harshly. I therefore spare us all the indignity.


• Jason Isringhausen and Chris Perez combined their respective talents this past Saturday and successfully blew a contest against the Pirates. It was both completely appalling and utterly spectacular in its predictability.


• The Brewers traded for CC Sabathia and the Cubs acquired Rich Harden. Meanwhile, the Cardinals tried to pretend nothing happened and continued to...OH MY GOD, LOOK OVER THERE!!


• Mark Mulder started the July 9th game against the Phillies and threw 16 pitches before his arm fell off, promptly ending his career. WEEEEEEEEEE!!!

So yeah...these are the highlights that come to mind from the last several weeks. Despite the Brew Crew storming ahead of us for a brief spell, the Redbirds are still planted 4.5 back in second place behind the Scrubbies. I'm planning for an action packed weekend down at Busch Stadium, so I hope all of the guys we've got playing in the All-Star Game don't wear themselves out. (Cue crickets...) It's time to start the second half of the season with a bang...and preferably not one from a self inflicted gunshot to the foot. GO CARDS!!!

Free Baseball Is Exhausting

After beating up on the reigning World Series champions on both Friday and Saturday night, I was in good spirits heading to Fenway Park on Sunday afternoon. My trip to Beantown had been a raging success thus far and although I was obviously hoping for a win, I was in a good enough state of mind that I'd convinced myself I would have the mental fortitude to handle a loss with sublime grace and dignity. The fact that I didn't should come as a surprise to exactly no one. It was one of the most draining games I've ever seen! After jumping out to an early 2 run lead, the BoSox bounced back with the aid of Chris Perez who did his best Jason Isringhausen impression and walked in the go ahead run. I don't think that guy threw a single strike and I'm pretty sure he was in the game for month. At least it felt like it, anyway. Adam Kennedy knocked in the tying run in the ninth and provided new life for the Cardinals, which seemed like a great thing until we'd been sitting at Fenway for 37 hours watching a nailbiter with NO BEER. Rain showers delayed the start time by an hour, which meant they stopped selling the suds early in the 7th. I thought I was going to cry. It should be illegal to make people sit through 13 innings of something that stressful without any sort of sedative. After Chris Duncan was thrown out at home, I think several of my arteries exploded.

Further hampering my docile demeanor was the fact that there were THREE Cubs fans sitting in my section. How on earth is that even possible? I'm about ready to take out a restraining order. Not to mention the fact that I got no fewer than a 100 emails and text messages about Jim Edmonds hitting two home runs in one inning against the White Sox on Saturday. I've really got to find new friends. It's either that or go into witness protection.

ANYWAY...one thing I find interesting is that Adam Kennedy seems to come through with some clutch plays when I'm in attendance. He hit his first and only home run of the year last Saturday when I was down at Busch catching the Phillies game and of course had that heroic RBI on Sunday. Despite both of these instances, I still have zero faith in his hitting abilities whatsoever. I don't know what that means, but I have a feeling I'm not the only one who feels that way. That has to really suck for him.

Another thing I'd like to mention is how impressed I was with the Boston fans. I went into Sunday's game expecting to get heckled and harassed mercilessly and had meager hopes of escaping without getting spit on or thrown at. Boston fans have a reputation for being kind of obnoxious, after all. However, I'm happy to say these people left me alone all day! Less one guy yelling at me that the Cardinals suck, I was able to panic and freak out in relative solitude. I have a sneaking suspicion that this is because these fans are so obsessed with all things Red Sox that it's entirely possible they didn't even know there was another team on the field. It's very difficult to say. The only thing I know for sure is that there were some prime opportunities for them to exploit my embarrassment and make fun of me and my Ankiel T-shirt, but they didn't take them. Not even when he fell on his ass in center field after overrunning a Coco Crisp fly ball. I'm starting to wonder if we were even watching the same game.

Anyway, I was heckled well and good by some of my friends in Southie after the game, but by then I was hooked up to a Tangueray and tonic IV and couldn't be bothered to put up much of a fight. Frankly, after being treated to four free innings of baseball I was exhausted. They could have started poking me with a stick and I probably wouldn't have noticed. These types of situations are just too much for a delicate little flower like myself!

No One Is Safe!

I'm starting to think I might be a jinx on poor Alfonso Soriano. I was there to see him sustain both of the injuries that have put him on the DL this year. First was the leg injury he incurred while doing that little hoppity bop thing he does after making a catch and last night I saw him get drilled by a pitch that broke his finger. Yeesh. It was kind of a shooting gallery at Wrigley Field last night anyway, as fly balls ricocheted into the stands all night at incredible rates of speed. Mr. Sucky Dome actually drilled some guy in the side of the head sitting about fifteen rows behind home plate on the third base side. I'll tell you, I was happy to escape the night unconcussed! Adding insult to injury, (pun intended because I'm cheeky!) the Cubs beat up on the Braves and won 7-2, improving their home record this year to 27-8. That's just disgusting. I mean, if I have to hear "Go, Cubs, Go" one more time, I think I'm going to rip off my ears and fill them with concrete.

ANYWAY...over in Cardinal Land, things are equally as interesting. Despite whooping up on the Cincinnati Reds last night in a 10-0 assault, one can't help but sob uncontrollably and curl into the fetal position over the news that Albert Pujols is going to be out for at least three weeks with a calf strain. WHY GOD, WHY??? With all of our best players on the DL, I'm surprised I haven't had a complete mental breakdown. That certainly wouldn't be outside the realm of possibility, although we've actually still been playing well enough that I've resisted the urge to skip rope with a downed power line. We'll see how long that lasts in Pujols' prolonged absence. Things seemed to go well enough last night with Chris Duncan getting the call up to fill in for Big Al and Braden Looper pitching out of his mind, but we shall see. You know how I feel about optimism! Joel Pineiro is getting the nod today for the finale against Cincinnati and it ought to be interesting considering I don't think anyone actually believes he's healthy.

With that said, it looks like the next month is going to be just one big giant mystery. Will the Redbirds be able to stay on track and put the pressure on Chicago? Will Ankiel, Ludwick and Glaus be enough power to compensate for Pujols' injury? Will I recognize anyone in the rotation by July? I have no clue. What do I look like, a fortune teller? I'm guessing Professor Plum, in the library with a candlestick. That seems just as reasonable as anything else at this point.

Now, Where Were We?

Hello, friends! As hard as it is to believe, it has been almost a month since my last post. Where o' where does the time go? It seems strange that the hot summer days are upon us and the 4th of July is only a few weeks away. I suppose that's getting old for you. Time flies and you always find yourself talking about the weather. Anyway, there has obviously been much to discuss in my absence. The Cardinals have continued their early season pattern of not making me want to chew on sandpaper and now rest a respectable 2.5 games out of first place. Considering the Chicago Scrubbies have been literally unstoppable this season, that is no small feat.

To recap the past several weeks, in no particular order:

1. Albert Pujols injured two players in the same inning on freak plays. By crushing the pitcher's face and twisting the catcher's ankle in ways it isn't supposed to go, Pujols managed to single-handedly dismantle the already beleaguered Padres. I have a sneaking suspicion that might haunt his dreams for awhile.

2. Carlos Zambrano beat up a water cooler. I cannot make this stuff up, people. I saw him break a bat over his leg earlier this year, but my LORD, this just took the cake. The best part of the whole ordeal was just how painfully AWKWARD it was. The cooler was very clearly still full and Big Z was enormously unsuccessful at gracefully throwing the cumbersome and unwieldy vessel. It didn't come across as aggressive and fiery as much as it seemed...well, wobbly. I haven't laughed that hard since the Cubs got knocked out of the 2007 playoffs.

3. Joel Pineiro and Adam Wainwright went on the DL. People that I'm not familiar with and who are presumably gifted at throwing baseballs then joined the rotation. I have not yet bothered to learn their names, as I'm sure they'll be injured or sent down to the minors before they become even remotely relevant. What with all the drinking I've already done this season, I've got to conserve brain cells, you see.

4. I ventured out to a Cubs game in May and was fortunate enough to sit in fancy front row CBOE seats. After trying unsuccessfully to distract Alfonso Soriano and Reed Johnson with my blinding white skin, I was rewarded with two Soriano home runs and a lobster-red hairline.

5. The very next day, I finally saw my first Cubs loss of the season against the Pirates on a sunny Saturday afternoon in the bleachers. Despite multiple applications of sunblock, I came away with crimson arms to match my forehead. I also left bitter after having to see Alfonso Soriano hit four home runs in two days.

Despite the Cubs being incredibly irritating, (leading the majors? Don't you think that's a WEE BIT over the top?) I'm excited for the rest of the summer. I have all sorts of baseball related adventures planned, starting tonight with a work event at a suite in Wrigley. Then this Saturday I'm headed to St. Louis with three college pals to see the Phillies game. Even though the people I'm going with are all Cubs fans, I'm confident that will be cancelled out by the 43,000 Cardinals fans surrounding us. Then NEXT weekend, I've leveraged my life savings in order to head out for a Saturday afternoon St. Louis vs. BoSox game at Fenway. This will be followed promptly by a 4th of July trip up to Milwaukee where I'll make my first visit to Miller Park for a Pirates/Brewers contest. With my annual family trip to St. Louis in July and another family field trip to an August Cards vs. Cubs game at Wrigley, I'm in for a whole bunch of hot dogs and beer over the course of the summer. Tragic, isn't it? The pity party for me officially starts....NOW.

Please Tell Me This Is Just A Bad Dream

I can't believe I'm going to say this, but the Chicago Cubs have picked up Jim Edmonds. He is at Wrigley Field right now. Playing baseball. FOR THE CUBS. I know this has been rumored for a few days and I'm certainly not the first to say it, but DAMMIT, this just isn't right! Under no circumstances is it okay for Jim Edmonds to wear a Cubs jersey. This just upsets the natural order of things and I'll be honest...I'm not happy about it. (I know, isn't it shocking?) Ironically, I'm not sure who this bothers most: Cardinal fans or Cubs fans. From what I understand, Jimmy E isn't particularly popular in Wrigleyville. Upon mentioning his name, most of the Cubs fans I know usually spout off some variation of "Edmonds is a showboating, injury prone, excessively cocky jerkface that wears guyliner." My favorite anecdote comes from one such Cubs fan who watched Edmonds play in an afternoon game at Wrigley. In response to incessant taunting from the bleacher monkeys, Edmonds flipped up his middle finger and held it behind his back. And then at his next at-bat, he hit a homerun. I LOVE that story. I just cannot believe he's now going to be playing for these idiots. And instead of hating him, they're going to be cheering for him. I've already gotten an email from one friend today saying, "Edmonds is in center field right now. He got a hit too and is 1 for 3. I really don’t mind him and kind of like the way he goes about playing the game." Huh??? No you don't, you big liar! A week ago you called to goad me about the Padres releasing him! Until this moment, you hated him more than any other human that's ever played in the NL Central! Jim Edmonds is 100% vintage Cardinal. Like Carlos Zambrano for the Cubs, he epitomizes everything that Chicago fans hate about their St. Louis rivals and represents a quintessential part of that rivalry's history. It's agonizing that he is now going to be used against us by our most loathsome enemy. Next to the Cardinals signing Big Z Ball Scratcher himself, it's simply the most backwards acquisition I could conceivably imagine. Next thing you know, he and Zambrano are going to put aside their long and documented history of mutual detestation and become car pool buddies. (Assuming Zambrano doesn't actually EAT him before then.) Then I really won't know what to do with myself. It's physically painful to think about.

I guess the only good news is that Jimmy has not been playing well AT ALL this year. Plus, he's getting up there in the age department and has had approximately 93 concussions over the course of his career. He's not quite as sharp as he once was, let's just put it that way. He'll be injured or slumping before we know it and then Cubs fans can go back to hating him like they're supposed to.

It's About Damn Time

As a result of his complete inability to stop colossally screwing everything up, Jason Isringhausen has finally and MERCIFULLY been yanked as the Cardinal's closer. This man has been giving me stress induced asthma attacks for years now and it would be difficult for me to pinpoint a time that I didn't believe that even the games he DOES save aren't total freak accidents. I have not once felt comfortable with him coming onto the mound, particularly in a close game. My mom will actually leave the room when he comes in, as the tension emanating from my dad and me is absolutely palpable. No lead is big enough going into the ninth inning when you know Izzy is going to be responsible for maintaining it. Which is too bad, really. He does, after all, lead the National League with 11 saves this year. However, he's also tied for the most BLOWN saves in the NL with 5. Brand new and shocking information this is NOT. The poor guy just cannot help himself from giving up game winning runs of any and every variety. Maybe I just don't appreciate the subtle nuances of his pitching style. Maybe in some alternate "Isringhausen Universe" it is somehow strategically favorable to avoid a one-two-three inning. But I doubt it.

Tony LaRussa is calling this a "mental break." Whatever, you say, dude. I mean, no one within the Cardinals organization can really just come out and say that Isringhausen sucks at his job, but that doesn't mean I don't fervently believe this to be true. There is not one single player on the entire Cardinals roster that has caused me to clutch my head in my hands and make the guttural sound of a moose suffering from severe food poisoning more frequently than him. He has forced me to say a LOT of swear words over the last several seasons. A LOT of swear words. Perhaps this little respite of his will allow me to expand my vocabulary to include rhetoric that WON'T get me kicked out of public places or threatened with jail time.

We're Winners!!!

Over the last several weeks it has become glaringly obvious that the quality of my posts are inversely related to how well the Cardinals are playing. Without the proper inspiration to formulate new and creative ways to kill myself, this blog lacks the pizazz and sassiness I'm just SURE it's known for. Some of that "je ne sais quoi", if you will. This is to say that when the Cardinals are winning, it puts me in such a good mood that I don't even feel the need to make fun of Carlos Zambrano. (And let's get serious. I mine a LOT of content out of that shitbag.) What am I supposed to write about all summer if things keep going like this? I'm starting to get nervous that my stylized homerism is being rendered obsolete, as my creative brain matter only functions when I'm pissed off and borderline psychopathic. What on earth can I talk about with any kind of conviction when it's all unicorns and rainbows in Cardinal Land? At 21-12 the Birds are in first place with a 2.5 game lead over the Scrubbies, who they took 2 of 3 from over the weekend. After Albert Pujols blazed around the base paths last night to score the winning run in the ninth against the Rockies, I'm really getting concerned. It's almost like these guys actually ENJOY winning baseball contests. Where in god's name did this come from?

Anyway, while this has obviously been a fun and fantastic start to the season for Cardinal fans, the natural pessimist in me can't help but brace myself for a mid/late summer implosion. Winning sure is fun, but when the season lasts for what feels like 19 centuries, one can never get too comfortable. It's a little something I like to call "Defensive Fandom". Plan for the worst, hope for the best and prepare to become a raging alcoholic in the process. So while I obviously cheer for the Cardinals to continue their success, I think I'd better go stab myself in the leg with a letter opener just to remember what it feels like. You just never know when we might offer a contract to someone like Kip Wells or Mike Maroth. It's best to already be appropriately disgruntled.

Testy, Testy

I don't know what everyone is so crabby about, but it looks like the Redbirds and Astros just cannot get along. The benches cleared on both Saturday and Sunday, further escalating heightened tensions between the two teams that stem from an April 8th incident in which Albert Pujols made an aggressive slide into catcher J.R. Towles. Despite Pujols issuing a personal apology to Towles, he and pitcher Brandon Backe exchanged words the following day, presumably setting the stage for this weekend's profusion of aggression. Saturday's fracas began when Adam Wainwright flung a pitch behind Houston's Brad Ausmus. Seeing this as payback for Roy Oswalt hitting Jason LaRue with a pitch a half inning earlier, all hell broke loose. Then on Sunday, a high pitch from Brandon Backe caused Yadier Molina's temper to boil over. Players spilled out from both dugouts as he exchanged words with Backe and headed towards the mound. The argument quickly dissolved and play resumed, although Molina was still angry about the situation after the game and offered no apology for his reaction. From MLB.com:

"I wasn't expecting it. I wasn't expecting that pitch that close, right in my face. If you're going to try to hit somebody, you've got to do it in the body. You can't throw it in the head. That's not professional. That's not baseball. That's not human."

Yeesh. Mr. Molina does not appear to be in a very forgiving state of mind, which leads me to believe that we may not have seen the end of this St. Louis vs. Houston conflict. Call me crazy, but I don't think Enya and a bubble bath are going to resolve these hard feelings. However, based on the outcome of those two games, a general sense of animosity does not appear to be a problem for the Cardinals. In fact, these guys seem to feed off of it. These are certainly not the only instances in recent memory where anger has been a motivating factor for Pujols & Company. That said, the Cardinals took the series 2-1 and are 16-10 heading into tonight's home game against Bronson Arroyo and the Cincinnati Reds. I'm personally hoping Adam Dunn pees in Molina's locker.

I Believe This is Reckless Endangerment

Is Milwaukee the only team we play this summer? For crying out loud, I think we've already faced them 27 times this year. What's worse is that I think they're finally catching on to us, because like last Thursday's game, the Brewers were able to squeak one out and away from us yesterday afternoon. It took them 12 innings to do it this time around, but the end result was the same: a big ol' disappointing loss for the Cardinals. Despite a late inning rally that tied things up in the ninth, the Redbirds couldn't get anything going again in extra innings and fell 9-8.

Per MLB.com,

"Eight runs and nine innings weren't enough for the Cardinals on Tuesday.
Neither were three middle infielders. And remarkably, 13 pitchers almost didn't
cover it, either. Four hours and 28 minutes of baseball culminated in Gabe
Kapler's one-out RBI single in the 12th inning, ending a bizarre game as the
Cardinals lost to the Brewers, 9-8, at Miller Park. Seven Cardinals and eight
Brewers pitched, Albert Pujols made an appearance at second base and the
Cardinals left a staggering 16 runners on base. "

Good grief. The only way this could have been more of a circus is if they'd brought in some dancing bears in funny hats or shot a guy out of a cannon. Reading the entire game summary, you get the feeling that NOBODY on that field had any clue what was going on. I would imagine it looked a lot like that scene in Armageddon where meteors are falling all over New York City and people are running screaming everywhere as cars explode and the top of the Chrysler building falls off. With baseballs and human bodies flying every which way (Albert played second? HUH???), it sounds like it was a sloptastic orgy of loosely organized chaos. So even though neither bullpen showed any functional utility as members of professional baseball teams, it's nice to know that any of these guys would make wonderful antagonists in the next Michael Bay movie.

Oh, Crap

I should know better than to go blabbering on about how excited I am over Redbird success. It is very obviously a hex of some kind.

After tying it up in the 8th, Prince Fielder just hit a two run shot off of Little Brad in the 10th and the Brewers have taken a 5-3 lead.

Siiiiiigh.

UPDATE: Aaaaaand that's a final. Fortunately, happy hour is only sixty minutes away.

So, wait...WHAT?

Holy crap. Holy FREAKING crap. As I write this, the St. Louis Cardinals are leading the Milwaukee Brewers 3-0 going into the 8th inning of the last in this three game series. Of which they've won the previous two. Deductive reasoning therefore suggests that the Cardinals are on their way towards sweeping the Brewers. Adding to that, the Birds were 11-4 going into this game and tied with Arizona for the best current record in major league baseball. I'm not even sure how to properly process this information. Am I dead?

Some highlights: Wainwright pitched 7 2/3 innings last night, giving up two runs on five hits in a 5-4 win. He also hit a solo home run and a single. He is apparently awesome at everything. Also, Ricky Ankiel forced a 1st inning, 17 pitch plate appearance into a walk. SEVENTEEN PITCHES. That is, I believe, a pretty solid at-bat. It should therefore be noted that he is ALSO awesome. Then, the Cardinals extended their collective awesomeness into Tuesday with a 6-1 win. According to the MLB.com recap, "The Cardinals won with 12 hits, 11 of them singles, from eight different players. Seven different Redbirds either scored a run, drove one in, or both." Also, even though Braden Looper gave up five walks, he only allowed a single run. So even when he kind of sucks, he is STILL awesome.

In summary, to my complete and utter surprise, the Cardinals are winning lots of baseball games. I did not see this coming. However, in case I have not made it abundantly clear, this is...well, AWESOME.

Now THIS Is More Like It

Well you just KNEW something like this was going to happen. Things were going far too smoothly for there not to be some kind of mild catastrophe. Giving us a glimpse of the massacre that WAS the 2007 season, Joel Pineiro returned from the DL last night and promptly started to suck terribly. I think some of the Giants lineup actually started batting blindfolded just to make things interesting. After 3 2/3 agonizing innings, he had given up 10 hits (4 of which were extra base) and 6 runs. Welcome back, Joel!!!! Little Brad Thompson stopped riding his Big Wheel around the bullpen long enough to come in and stop the bleeding. He pitched 2 1/3 scoreless innings, which at least gave Cardinals fans the illusion that the Birds were back in it. They weren't, of course, and ended up losing 7-4. Oh misery, how I've missed you!

It should be noted that the Cards actually ended up splitting the series with the Giants and ended up playing one of the more entertaining games this season on Saturday afternoon. After coming back from an early 5 run deficit, Jason Isringhausen managed to cough up a 7-5 lead in the bottom of the ninth, reminding me of how he sometimes makes me want to swallow my own arm. Enter the previously slumping Chris Duncan, who graciously smacked in what would be the game winning run in the 10th and made it possible for me to avoid guzzling a gallon of unleaded. After Albert Pujols' 4 RBI trouncing of Barry Zito on Friday night, I really can't complain much. The Cards are still 9-4 and a half game ahead of the Brewers to lead the division. But honestly, it just doesn't feel right if I'm not complaining about SOMETHING.

This is Sort of Fun

Good grief, what's with all this WINNING? The Cardinals are alone in first place for the first time since the end of the 2006 season. And this team is supposed to be ABYSMAL. I'm so confused I don't even know what to do with myself.

Even more bizarre, is that EVERYONE appears to be contributing. The starting rotation isn't giving up 37 runs a game and the relief corp (including Anthony Reyes, who had another strong day yesterday) is doing a solid job of holding off the late inning surges. Ricky Ankiel leads the team with 3 homers and 8 RBIs this year, although Mr. Albert Pujols lit up last night with two homeruns against the Astros and will no doubt continue to carve a path of destruction through the rest of the season as long as he can stay healthy. Meanwhile, Troy Glaus, Yadier Molina, Ryan Ludwick and even Adam Kennedy are consistent threats at the plate. These guys have combined for 28 hits and 18 RBIs with the entire team collaborating to outscore their opponents 39-25. After nine games, the Redbirds have won seven and taken all three series.

You know...I'm rather enjoying this. I was completely unprepared for such early season satisfaction. What on earth do I do with all of this leftover sarcasm and bitterness? God knows I can't just start going around being nice to people.

Little Brad Is All Growed Up

I'm not quite sure what to make of Brad Thompson. I mean, it's really hard to take a pitcher seriously when he looks like he probably spends his weekends watching the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and picking on his eight year old sister. Anytime he plays well, I find myself utterly shell shocked. And when he doesn't, I just hope that the media is nice to him. (Leave the kid alone! He's so fragile and innocent!) I know this isn't fair. He is, after all, a fully grown man that has been successful enough thus far to justify his place in the starting rotation of a major league baseball team. But still. That youthful face belies his abilities, which now that I think about it, isn't such a bad thing. Maybe, like Braden Looper was last season, Little Brad Thompson will be a surprise weapon. After pitching 6 2/3 shutout innings against the defending National League Champions yesterday afternoon, he appears to be a surprisingly consistent and potentially dominant part of our rotation. At no point did he make me nervous or cause an increase in my heart rate. I'm telling you, I could get used to that.

Someone else that surprised me in yesterday's game was Anthony Reyes. First of all, he came in relief of Little Brad and struck out the first and only three batters he faced. Second of all, he came in relief of Little Brad. Since when is he in the bullpen? Apparently I need to keep a closer eye on our roster. Anyway, I don't know how that will work out in the long run, but it appeared to be an effective move yesterday. Honestly, it was just nice to see him pitch well, period. That should do wonders for his confidence. That flat-billed cap and goofy socks? Not so much.

Offensively, it was just more of what we've seen the past few days. By which I mean, Rick Ankiel and Troy Glaus consecutively finagling their way on base and tacking on back-to-back RBIs. Little Brad knocked in that very last run (his first RBI of the year), which probably made this the best day of his life, second only to the time he ramped over that really big pile of dirt on his Huffy and then bought a cherry dip cone with extra sprinkles. Which I think was actually on Monday.

And So It Begins...

So, Opening Day has come and gone (and come and gone again) resulting in an inaugural St. Louis loss for the second year in a row. If we're taking that as an indicator of what's to come this season, we are in for a looooong year. Being the eternal optimist that I am, however, I choose to ignorantly believe that it's only going to be slightly more depressing then an episode of that show Intervention. (Which, by the way, is absolute NIGHTMARE FUEL. Why would I EVER want to see homeless people inject themselves with heroin?) What looked so very promising on Monday quickly evaporated when a monsoon blew through and washed away our 4 run lead, a Pujols homerun and 2 Ankiel RBIs. An almost certain win courtesy of Adam Wainwright was wiped from the books after three innings and postponed until last night. Then, despite seven shutout innings from Kyle Lohse, our lineup could not overcome the pitching legend that IS Kip Wells. He inexplicably allowed only one run off of a Yadier Molina homerun, beginning what is sure to be another season of him runing my life. And he doesn't even play for us anymore. ARRRGH!! ANYWAY, moving on... the bullpen then helpfully coughed up two runs in the eighth, which was in typical Cardinals fashion, the only offensive output our opponent needed to put our first notch in the L column. Oh, I know. I couldn't believe it either.

I was also disappointed that I didn't get to see the Zambrano Explosion on Monday. That big smug ass only gave up 3 hits and a single walk in his 6 2/3 innings before Kerry Wood came in and rendered that performance GLORIOUSLY irrelevant by choking up three runs in the 9th. That Kosuke Fukudome guy (who will from this point forward be referred to as Sucky Dome in an attempt to resist using a more obvious expletive based nickname. I'm mature!) made things exciting as he launched an Eric Gagne delight into the bleachers to tie it up in the bottom of the ninth. The game ended on a 10th inning Tony Gwynn, Jr. sac fly, which considered collectively is, I admit, almost as pleasing as the Zambrano Explosion itself. It's going to be the small things this year, people.

Let's Play Catch...Up

It's been over six months now since my last post, so I figured it might do me some good to work off a little rust before Opening Day and comment on some of the significant happenings of the fall and winter months. It's never to early to tune up the sarcasm and cynicism! God knows, I'm going to need a lot of that (and vodka) to get through the 2008 season.

1. For starters, the Cardinals of St. Louis bid farewell to 2006 World Series MVP David Eckstein. I knew this was coming, but it still made me a little sad if for no other reason then he was my Mom's favorite Cardinal player. (He reminds her of her grandson. Awwwww!!!!)

2. So Taguchi hit the road. He also has special familial significance because it was a foul ball off of his bat last summer that permanently disfigured my sister's back. She and I even have T-shirts commemorating the event because we're JUST that cool.

3. Aaron Miles also left. And came back. So...yeah. There's that.

4. Jimmy Edmonds went home to Southern Cal to finish out the last year of his career. I am personally hoping to get my annual St. Louis trip planned around his trip back to Busch Stadium in June. I imagine he'll get one hell of an ovation.

5. We acquired two former Scrubbies in the form of Cesar Izturis and Matt Clement. Oh boy, here we go. I somehow don't see this ending well for me.

6. The Mitchell Report implicated former Cardinals Fernando Vina and Gary Bennet along with current players Ryan Franklin and Rick Ankiel. If you haven't already read enough about this damn report, I urge you to seek therapy. Immediately.

7. The City of Chicago approved a request to renovate Wrigley Field, adding additional seating and signage. Thank god. There weren't nearly enough assholes at those games as it was.

8. Roger Clemens lied about stuff and got mad at Andy Pettite. Again, if you haven't seen enough coverage of this, you need help. Or perhaps someone capable of throwing you down a flight of stairs.

9. Chicago Cubs signed some Japanese player with a name that is borderline pornographic. I truly have no idea how it is properly pronounced, but I promise you, I will enjoy saying it incorrectly ALL SUMMER LONG.

10. Scottie Rolen was traded to Toronto. You know, I'm really going to miss that Limp Bizkit tune.

11. Mark Prior bolts Chicago for San Diego. Hopefully he didn't break a nail on his way there.

12. Kip Wells disappears from the St. Louis roster and interestingly enough, I feel no sadness or gaping empty void in my soul. I know, isn't it SHOCKING?

Anyhow, I'm looking forward to the new season and seeing how well our young little team will fare. (Editors note: Probably not very.) I'll more than likely want to rip off my own arm and beat myself to death with it by June, but what's spring good for without a little unjustified optimism?