Predictable Happenings Often Happen In Baseball

Just when I think he can't do anything more absurd, Big "Ball Scratcher" Zambrano does something like this and totally reaffirms my complete disdain and disgusted amusement. In the Cubs win against the Pirates today, my old buddy Carlos threw himself another one of his legendary hissy fits and found himself ejected and faced with a probable suspension. It all started with a wild pitch that found him attempting to make a play at home, which caused him to make contact with the umpire, which caused him to throw a ball into the outfield, toss his glove and proceed into the dugout where he promptly beat the water cooler with a bat. My sweet heavens. He makes my job of hating him with the red hot fire of a thousand suns INCREDIBLY easy.

In other predictable news, I was speaking with my sister's fiance tonight and he was regaling me with a tale of one, Mr. Jason Isringhausen. Evidently, he worked his magic against the Cleveland Indians on Monday and successfully helped the Tampa Bay Rays choke up a ten run lead and the all-but-sure win. In total, the bullpen gave up 7 runs in the bottom of the ninth, including a trademark game losing two run single from Izzy. Oh, how I miss those retina shattering, brain blasting, soul crushing moments! As a running joke in our family, this will no doubt provide endless hours of entertainment.

As for the Redbirds, well those plucky little fellows keep right on keeping on. After taking two of three from the Royals and two of three from our beer swilling rivals in Milwaukee, they have officially taken the first place spot in the NL Central. However temporary this may be, I am really quite pleased. After a tumultuous day at the office, I needed some good news to keep me from jamming a pen in my eye. As it stands, I'm still tempted to pull a Zambrano and club someone over the cranium with a bat. It's either that or have six or seven Black Russians. The jury is still out.

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.

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.

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.

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.

My Weekend Got Progressively Better Until It Actually Blew My Mind

Good grief, I take a few days off and look what happens! The NL Central is a mess! The Cubs are in first and hanging on to a precarious 1.5 game lead over Milwaukee, the Cardinals have charged within 2 games of the lead and even jumped into second place for a brief minute yesterday, the Astros fired Phil Garner, Roy Oswalt did that thing he does by shutting out the Redbirds in his return on Wednesday, Carlos Zambrano warmed the cockles of my heart by blowing another game, Alfonso Soriano returned quietly to the Cubs lineup on Tuesday, Adam Kennedy had knee surgery, Scott Rolen missed a few games because of that nagging shoulder injury of his and amongst it all, I made my annual pilgrimage to St. Louis for the Braves series and what would turn out to be one of the greatest weekends of my summer.

When I left on Friday the Cards had just taken two of three from the Marlins and were 3 games back in the division. Spirits were high, my gas tank was full, my iPod was charged and I was ready to go! Upon arriving in St. Louis it became clear that Mother Nature wasn't NEARLY as excited about baseball as I was. It rained and rained and poured and stormed for what felt like an eternity before the game actually started. And then it only got worse as the Birds fumbled around committing a handful of errors and failing to generate nearly enough runs to support an average Kip Wells performance. Plus, a big obnoxious Cubs fan was sitting directly in front of me. Seriously. It's like these people follow me around or something. What are the freakin' odds? But anyway, my Dad and I were Crabby McCrankypants when we left Busch Stadium after that hot mess.

Fortunately, things got better on Saturday. The weather cleared up considerably, Joel Pineiro pitched well and we were able to put together a strong inning against Tim Hudson and squeak by with a 5-4 win. Plus, our seats were a little bit better and the game got over with early enough that we could go out partying with Missouri's finest until the wee hours of the morning. We even got our picture taken with Captain Morgan and saw a woman wearing a banana clip. A BANANA CLIP! I don't think I've seen one of those since 1986! Beautiful stuff, I tell ya.

However, it wasn't until Golden Day Sunday that I became positively euphoric. Those Cardinal Club tickets I mentioned a couple weeks ago? Yeah, they were the coolest seats I've ever sat in. It was physically impossible to eat and drink all the free food and beverages that were being offered and we were close enough to the field that my Mom was calling balls and strikes. If I were so compelled, I could have confessed my undying love to Albert Pujols and he would have been able to hear me. The weather was perfect, Adam Wainwright looked awesome, Jason Isringhausen didn't give me a stroke and Juan Encarnacion even hit a homerun. It was quite literally a perfect day and I don't throw that term around loosely! Add that to a couple Cubs losses over the weekend and I actually wanted to cry. If I would have been crushed by a Clydesdale that night, I could have died a happy woman. Plus, we got to pose with Fred Bird! I dare you not to be jealous.

In summary, I'm high on Cardinal fumes right now. Also, I'm kind of thinking that after Sunday, my wedding and the birth of my first born have a lot to live up to. Make of that what you will!

Was It Good For You?

Well, we finally won a game against the Scrubbies yesterday. There were homeruns (Ankiel, Pujols), solid defensive plays (Ankiel, Pujols), some reasonable relief pitching (Franklin, Isringhausen) and a great all around performance by Scottie Rolen (3-4, 3 RBIs), yet somehow it all felt a little bit anti-climatic to me. After the emotional roller coaster I rode off the tracks on Saturday, the Monday afternoon contest left me asking, "uh...is that it?" I think this reaction is a solid testament to how different these things are when you're actually there in person or otherwise 100% engaged in the action. When you are watching each and every pitch and muscle twitch surrounded by others that are just as emotionally invested in the results as you are, it changes things. Suddenly, that particular game becomes infinitely more important. A win provides unparalleled jubilation, while a loss makes it feel like you had your insides removed, rearranged and stuffed in backwards. I think this is why it's been so hard to watch the Cardinals play games at Wrigley Field over the past few years. I've had seats at four of them and watched another handful among the ticketless in Clark Street watering holes. (Which is practically like being at Wrigley Field anyway, except the beer is marginally less expensive.) Of these, I've witnessed just one victory and I'm telling you, I've never wanted to win SO BADLY as I did on those days. (In the regular season, anyway.) It has been utterly GUT WRENCHING to keep getting that same result every time I venture out on the Chicago streets in my Cardinal red. It goes so far as to skew my perception of the team and its abilities when I ONLY get to watch them lose and merely read about the wins on the internet. No matter how talented the sportswriter, there's no way to relay the intensity of any given inning. Baseball is meant to be watched with full and undivided attention because it's just more awe inspring that way. The magic gets lost in translation otherwise.

This extends to games at Busch Stadium, as well. Instead of being something that would be kind of nice, winning games I'm physically there for becomes something I NEED! I'm gearing myself up for this, as I drive down to St. Louis on Friday afternoon for the weekend series against the Braves. Do those particular games, win or lose, become any more relevant to the team then the ones played earlier in the year? No, absolutely not. But dammit, they matter more to me! And I think we all know that's what TRULY matters.

Good News for People Who Love Bad News

Well, the good news is St. Louis finally snapped a five game losing streak this weekend. In front of an emotional home crowd, the Cards topped the Astros in their first win since Josh Hancock's passing and gave a beleaguered fan base a small taste of hope. Adam Wainwright, although far from flawless, performed more efficiently then he has in weeks giving up only 2 runs in six innings, while Chris Duncan and Albert Pujols drove home the runs necessary to secure the win. Of course, this was rendered completely irrelevant on Saturday, as they floundered about and gave up 13 runs to their whopping big fat ZERO. For those keeping track at home, that would be the team's 12th loss in 17 games. This also marked the end of Albert Pujols' 12 game hitting streak as he went 0-4. ARRGGH!!!

Ahem...sorry. This is supposed to be the optimistic and uplifting portion of this post. Continuing with the good news, Looper had another solid start on Sunday leading the Redbirds to their first series victory since coming to Wrigley in April. Scott Rolen finally got his groove on and shook himself out of an 0-25 hitting skid and Jason Isringhausen came in to save his 8th game in 9 chances. Of course, Looper was dinged for a run in the first, which continues to add to the team's consistent struggles in the first frame. They have been outscored 21-3 in the first this season. Considered collectively, the Cards have a 12 -17 record which is good enough to continue their stay in the Last Place Motel indefinitely. WOOHOOO!!!

Further exacerbating the Redbird's woes is the announcement that Chris Carpenter will be out for at least another three months as he undergoes arthroscopic surgery on his elbow. Add this to the fact that I had tickets to see the Cubs finish a sweep of the Nationals yesterday in dramatic extra innings fashion and I'm about ready to take a bath with a hair dryer. AAAAAAAARRRRRRRGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

In summary, there is just not enough good news.

Even My Yearbook Pictures Are Less Embarrasing

Remember a couple days ago when I was uncharacteristically calm and collected after our Opening Day loss to the Mets? Yeah, all of that has since gone out the window and my blood pressure has returned to its typical Cardinal induced levels of BATSHIT CRAZY.

Over the first three games of the year we've scored two runs. Two runs in 27 innings! We are 1 for 15 with runners in scoring position! Thanks for showing up, guys! Also, much appreciation goes to Preston Wilson for his fine additions to our already impressive list of defensive miscues, along with special gratitude to Josh Hancock and Russ Springer for only giving up 7 runs in the seventh and eight innings instead of 27. Now THAT would have been embarrasing!

The bright spots through all of this? Our young and surprisingly capable rotation and JASON ISRINGHAUSEN!! Are we now living in an alternate and parallel universe? If this keeps up, I'll be on a steady diet of Xanax and Smirnoff for the next six months.

So, Tony Likes to Kick a Few Back

Much has been said about Tony LaRussa and his whole "falling asleep at the wheel" incident. Well, here are some of my theories on how this all transpired.

1. He was exhausted after watching 19 consecutive hours of game film with Albert Pujols.
2. He realized that letting Jason Marquis go was a huge mistake and fell into a tragic shame spiral. (Just kidding!)
3. He just got done playing a drinking game that required him to drink every time Jason Isringhausen blew a save last year. (Which means he cheated, of course, because otherwise he would have been far more intoxicated then the 0.093 BAC would suggest.)
4. He was still celebrating that whole World Series Championship of ours.