“I've been waiting to say this to you for a long time. … Deep down in my stomach, with every inch of me, I pure, straight hate you. … But goddamn it do I respect you.” — Wes Mantooth.
In other words: Nice game, Smoltz.
If the Braves lost today, they would have been 10 out. Sure, only May, and Atlanta has a habit of snoozing until summer and then laying waste to the league. But still, one imagines there would have been a hint of panic in the air — double-digits behind a team that doesn't appear in the least bit scared of the Braves anymore? So could Smoltz step up? Three hits over six innings. On three days' rest. Yeah, he could step up.
Still, while the brooms didn't get to wave, we all feel like it would be an excellent idea to hide our five starting pitchers (whoever they may be at the moment) in an armored car and we discovered we actually can hate Angel Hernandez more than we already did, not a bad weekend of baseball: Did we really think we'd take two out of three with Trachsel, Zambrano and TBD pitching? And while that certainly wasn't the way even the most rabid Zambrano detractor wanted to see his Met career end, we did witness what I bet was Kaz Matsui's Beltran Moment and saw definite progress (however scary it might have been) from Jorge Julio, who could wind up in a lot more critical role for us when the pitching gets sorted out.
So. A much-needed off-day, and then it's time to fix the Phillies' wagon. If there's a hole in Ryan Howard's swing, Pedro and Glavine will find it. Homecoming of sorts for Billy Wagner. Pat the Bat, inevitably. The oddity of a Phillies game without a Vince Piazza sighting or talk of Mike growing up in Norristown. Those close fences whispering to Beltran and Wright and Delgado and Floyd. Third base whispering to Reyes after he rifles one up one of those deep alleys. Should be fun.
Aw, I don't wanna be Wes Mantooth. I wanna be Ron Burgundy. At least before he goes to seed.
As an on-hand witness, it went from aggravating to embarrassing to “when's the next train?” to perspective, the 2 of 3 and all that. Still, damn. I hate losing to those guys, even once in a while.
It will be nice to not see them for a long time. And it was nice, in its way, to be a part of Lima Time. Saw him trot toward the bullpen, find a fan in a Dodgers jersey with his name by the right field railing and Jose stopped to embrace him. Man, I thought, that sure as hell isn't Steve Trachsel going to warm up. Within two innings, he was the voice of reason between Lo Duca and Angel of Incompetence. Within five innings, he had thrown exactly 1 million pitches. Maybe he gets another start and a chance to be something more than Scott Erickson with a kicky 'do? It's not like the clubhouse is crawling with options.
Like you said, should be fun. So should this day for you. Happy Birthday, co-blogger. May Al Schmelz get back to you before midnight with those secret photos of him.
OK, so this has nothing to do with anything, but I've just gotta let the world know…
I have the greatest wife in the world!
It's been well documented in several circles the my other half, SarahH, detests — I mean, absolutely loathes — baseball.
We've been having some money issues of late. Not that we're begging for alms or anything, but a certain set of circumstances has left us feeling a bit squeezed for the last couple of months.
Finally, she got a decent bonus check last week. Our eyes lit up: YES! WE CAN GO TO COSTCO!
So we went. We always take a look at CD's/DVD's & see if there's anything that strikes our fancy…after we grab the industrial-size toilet paper, 2 cases of water, gi-normous box of Cascade, etc.
So we're poking around the DVD's and I come across the Mets 1986 box set.
So I go “Wow! Look at this…”
SarahH says, “How much?”
I look & go, “$53.00.”
She says, “OH! You gotta have it!”
I'm like, “Really?”
She goes, “Oh God! Of course!”
So I got the 1986 box set!
I love her! She's the best!
Thanks man. So far, 37 doesn't feel so bad. I could still be a regular at a corner position, if not for the utter lack of fast-twitch muscle fiber and reflexes. Blasted genetics!
Best of all, you're clear for the next 30 hours to enjoy them.
I knew, despite some fleeting hopes, that the Braves weren't gonna allow themselves to be swept. They wouldn't be the Braves if they had. The encouraging thing is that they had to trot out their biggest gun (in Smoltz), Angel Hernandez, and a largely superfluous offensive explosion to beat the likes of Jose Lima and Fortunado. Hopefully they got it out of their system…a little disturbing the beat us by a 10 run margin without the aid of Andruw Jones (perhaps he can't take two days in a row of direct sunlight), but still, we're in good shape. Let's show the Phillies who's boss.
Kaz, Carlos,–keep up the good work.