Welcome Back, Rick!!

Congratulations to Rick Ankiel today after his triumphant return to Major League Baseball last night. In his first start since 2004, Ankiel slapped a three run homerun 384 feet over the right field wall to put the Cards ahead 5-0 and secure the win. Not bad for a (former) pitcher, huh? Disney couldn't write a better feelgood comeback story then this one, although I doubt Joel Pineiro feels quite as thrilled about it. His impressive performance was largely overlooked, despite pitching seven shutout innings, striking out four and not issuing a single walk. Maybe next time, Joel.

In other news, it appears as though Scott Spiezio is being placed on the restricted list as he is treated for an undisclosed substance abuse issue. I wish him the best in his recovery, although I'll honestly be a little disappointed to find out he's addicted to anything other then red hair dye.

Wait...What Just Happened?

Okay, someone help me out here. Who was our starting pitcher last night? Because I'm PRETTY SURE it wasn't Kip Wells. No, the REAL Kip Wells would not have held an opponent to just two runs in eight innings. (In fact, I'm pretty sure he has no idea what pitching into the eighth inning feels like.) Is this a joke? Did we acquire an alien byproduct of some genetic engineering experiment that just LOOKS like him? Is this still July of 2007? So many questions, so few reasonable answers. All I know is that Kip Wells (!!!) led the Cardinals to a 6-0 shutout of the Marlins last night with his most brilliant start, well, probably EVER. (Seriously. He has not won a game since May 23rd.) I'm not quite sure what to make of this development, but I can't help but think it's only temporary. He's been the stuff of nightmares all summer, so unless he's had some miraculous physical transformation, I'm not convinced I should be too terribly excited about it. Nonetheless, it made my morning to hear he didn't fall off the mound or accidentally chuck a curveball into the dugout. I do usually have to brace myself for the worst.

Someone I actually am kind of excited about is this Brendan Ryan kid. Filling in for an injured Scott Rolen, he had five assists last night and appeared to be completely comfortable at third base. With Rolen back in St. Louis investigating discomfort in his left shoulder and his usual backup Scott Spiezio out with a finger infection (what??), it's nice to know we don't have to resort to starting one of the ball boys. As my Dad pointed out this morning, if we somehow come back and take the division, we might be the first minor league team to ever make the playoffs. Of course the likelihood of that happening is about the same as me piloting a space shuttle to Mars, but it's fascinating to think about nonetheless.

On another note, does anyone else find it suspicious that Scott Rolen and Scott Spiezio keep coming down with injuries and diseases at the same time? I mean, first it was simultaneous food poisoning and now this whole "infected finger" and shoulder injury thing. Suuuuuuuurre. My bet is that they're actually back in St. Louis playing video games, eating Taco Bell and giving each other wedgies. That or they're moonlighting as mysterious super heroes out saving the world from evil forces. Both of these explanations somehow seem wildly more realistic then an infected finger. What does that even mean? I'm no doctor, but I'm highly confident that's not a legitimate injury. Does it need amputated or require extensive physical therapy? No? Then get your glove and get back on the field, you big pansy.

Caution: Side Effects Include Cramping, Nausea and Losing

Just when I start to get excited about how we're playing, we have a stretch like this where it's almost impossible to imagine us winning EVER AGAIN. A drunk hobo once told me that it's hard to win ball games when you don't score any runs. Hmmm. That's interesting. It's very telling that a man who had just peed his pants and was gnawing on a plastic cup had a better grasp on the obvious then the Cardinals lineup. We've had a few promising outings, including a couple of ten run routes of the Astros and the Brewers, but there's only been three occasions where we've scored more then three runs in a game. That's going to take us no where but the toilet in a hurry.

Speaking of toilets, someone needs to seriously start monitoring what these guys are eating! Every time you turn around another guy is out with food poisoning. Strict standards need to be put in place that prohibit the consumption of whatever Scott Rolen and Scott Spiezio are noshing on. If it's anything other then raw hamburger and dog food, I'll be shocked. That just seems fitting somehow.

Why Thank You, May I Have Another?

It sure is nice to know that we're not the only team whose closer induces heart attacks. After losing two straight games in the ninth inning, Salomon Torres is probably making calls to see Brad Lidge's therapist right about now. Yesterday, the Pirates took a 2-0 lead into the ninth where Scott Spiezio singled in two runs to take it to extra innings. Cue Skip Schumaker's sac fly in the 12th and it's game over. Then today, Chris Duncan unloads a bomb in the ninth to break a 2-2 tie and ultimately give St. Louis the win.

Whoops.

So now the Redbirds have won five of their last six and four in a row to claim a share of first place in the central division. Thanks, Salomon!

In his defense, I think that being a closer has got to be about the most thankless position in baseball. Minor mistakes can hurl situations completely out of control and efficient outs don't necessarily inspire a showering of gratitude. There is virtually no room for error and it's safe to say that no matter how many 1-2-3 outings a guy has, fans are always going to more vividly remember the catastrophic ones. It's easy to credit the collective team effort for an especially satisfying win, yet in a crippling loss it usually just feels better to blame one guy. Unfortunately for them, no matter how quiet the bats are or how sloppy the defense, the closer is the easiest and most likely of targets.

Which is why I'm surprised most of these guys don't turn into homicidal maniacs. In fact, until someone can prove to me that Jason Isringhausen doesn't have a closet full of automatic weapons, I'm steering clear the hell away from St. Louis.