Notes from the past week:
1) Blogger apparently has a "new version" that will introduce a fresh template for editing, etc. Fellow blogspotters, have you made the switch and did you notice any bugs?
2) I saw a basketball doubleheader this Saturday at the United Center in Chicago. The Illini took on the Flames of UIC; then the Bulls hosted the Timberwolves. The first game was a poor one by Illini standards, yet filled with tension as the team blew a 16-point lead in the second half. The second game was a poor one by Bulls standards as well. I can't recall the last time I saw the Bulls shoot so poorly or look so dysfunctional on offense. They ended their 7-game win streak with a 10-point loss that wasn't as close as the final would suggest. I like watching NBA games live. They're much more of an entertainment event than a MLB game, which helps to distract from the fact that NBA games can be tedious due to their length. My favorite: the fan noise meter, which encourages the fans to scream their heads off for a couple minutes at a time.
3) Picked up some new furniture for the records room at IKEA. I've reached capacity on my LP storage on the old shelving system, so I picked up two new shelves/bookcases that will serve to house my stereo and my records, with room to spare for decorative items. I'll snap a photo of it once it's assembled. I'm excited by the new furniture (yes, I'm a geek in that way), because it also means that I'll be rearranging the furniture in the records room, swapping the walls where the couch/records currently rest.
4) I also picked up a pair of wireless headphones for use at home. Since I'm often in need of headphones, I'm hoping that having more freedom to roam will encourage me to listen to more music.
5) If you haven't yet, you may want to check out Japanese psychedelic band Yura Yura Teikoku, especially if you're into Krautrock with a slight pop twist. Jon turned me on to their "Soft Death" 12-inch. I'll post a song from that later this week.
6) My first acquired book, written by the only surviving Negro League arbiter, went to the printer on Friday. I'm happy with how it turned out. There's some entertaining passages on Satchel Paige and Buck O'Neil; stories of barnstorming bus rides gone terribly wrong; and plenty of information that will likely be "new" to researchers and historians of the league. In all, it's a story of one man's attempt to break the color barrier for umpires in the majors (he failed). We got a great endorsement from Ken Burns for the cover, too.
7) Thanks for your concerns, advice, etc. regarding my musical breakdown last week. I'm just at that mid-life crisis stage of my musical fandom, I think. It'll pass with time. I need more friends hanging around (both in person and in cyberspace) to share my passion with. A little of that goes a long way.
8) The three-disc Songs About Girls compilation is almost ready for mass production. Hopefully I'll be able to get copies out to the locals before you all leave for the holidays. For the non-locals, let me know if you'd like a copy, and I can drop one in the mail to you.
11.29.2006
R.I.P. Noiseboy?
It's been months since I can last remember falling in love with a band or a record or a concert. I don't listen to much music at home anymore, or at work for that matter. I listen to more music in the car -- on the RADIO -- than I do at home. I had an offer to DJ at Mike & Molly's that I turned down. I can't get up the gumption to post anything on my music blog. And it's been several weeks since Joanna Newsom's new album came out, and I still don't own it. I LOVED her last record, my favorite of '04. In year's past, I would've rushed to the store the day it dropped to buy it. But, not so much any more.
Am I growing old, up, out of love with music? Am I just in a funk? What the fuck is going on with The Noiseboy?
I just don't know.
Am I growing old, up, out of love with music? Am I just in a funk? What the fuck is going on with The Noiseboy?
I just don't know.
11.12.2006
10 random thoughts on a chilly Sunday night
1) I'm stoked about the start of NCAA basketball this week. The man-child that Seth Fein referred to as "Greg Odom" was on the cover of the most recent ESPN magazine. I haven't skimmed the issue yet (the magazine is mostly a waste of ink and paper), but I have to say that the amount of attention that Oden is receiving is disgusting. The dude isn't even going to play a game until January, and he'll probably be leaving for the pros after just three months of college ball. THIS is what I have to be excited about thanks to the new NBA rules: three measly months of Greg Oden? Oh boy! It should be noted that Oden says he wants to stick around longer than a year. I just finished editing a book about him, and it seems like his desire to stick around college ball will depend mostly on two factors: 1) his mom, who really wants to see her son cash in; and 2) whether or not Greg feels as if he can step right in and contribute at the next level. If the answer to No. 2 is "yes", then he'll enter the draft this summer. By the way, many onlookers felt that Oden wasn't even the best player on his high school team, a squad that won three Indiana state titles in a row. That honor went to Mike Conley, who is also Oden's teammate at Ohio State.
2) M has taken to knitting. And talking to me about knitting. Kill me, please.
3) A surprise at work this week: my name was listed atop the bestsellers list for SP this week (I was given an author credit for the Cardinals book). That came a day after I asked for raise. Good timing!
4) It turns out that my friend Jon is starting a non-profit in my old stomping grounds of Peoria that will be dedicated to boosting the city's appreciation of live music. I don't know the details, but I'm glad he's working the promoter angle again. Jon booked many of the finest rock shows of my formative years, including Fugazi with the Make-Up.
5) I saw Babel this week. Best drama I've seen in months.
6) I saw Borat last week. Best comedy I've seen in months.
7) The local weekly released the "Best of CU" results this week, which only reinforced two things for me: 1) We need a non-campus weekly, as evidenced by many of the ridiculous categories/results (Q: "Best place to have a first kiss?" A: The Quad); and 2) I don't miss counting those ballots one iota (fuck ballot-stuffing restaurants and bar bands alike).
8) I've narrowed down my selections for the epic Songs About Girls compilation to 70 songs. I'm handing this sucker out for Xmas presents this year, instead of the usual "Best of 200X" CDs. (Sorry to all who liked those so much, but I didn't buy enough music from 2006 to justify doing one this year.) More on Songs About Girls at a later date.
9) Has anyone else discovered "The Tube", the random music video channel on our local digital cable package? I can't remember what station it is now that they've renumbered all the channels above 100, but it's worth flipping to during the commercial breaks during Bulls games. You're just as likely to get The Moody Blues as you are The Talking Heads, but at least it's all videos, all the time -- and no commercials!
10) Man, I miss the jukebox at Les' Lounge. I hate hate hate these new digital, internet jukeboxes. The one at Mike & Molly's is a rip-off with the worst songs/dollar ratio in town. Can we all agree that while it's convenient to be able to select "Trash" by the New York Dolls b/w "Look What the Cat Dragged In" by Poison as part of your "cock rock block", it doesn't excuse the fact that internet-aided automation equals laziness? Bars used to be defined by their beer selection and their jukebox. As a serious jukebox DJ, I prefer working around the limitations of a juke rather than having Napster at my fingertips. Fuck technology!
2) M has taken to knitting. And talking to me about knitting. Kill me, please.
3) A surprise at work this week: my name was listed atop the bestsellers list for SP this week (I was given an author credit for the Cardinals book). That came a day after I asked for raise. Good timing!
4) It turns out that my friend Jon is starting a non-profit in my old stomping grounds of Peoria that will be dedicated to boosting the city's appreciation of live music. I don't know the details, but I'm glad he's working the promoter angle again. Jon booked many of the finest rock shows of my formative years, including Fugazi with the Make-Up.
5) I saw Babel this week. Best drama I've seen in months.
6) I saw Borat last week. Best comedy I've seen in months.
7) The local weekly released the "Best of CU" results this week, which only reinforced two things for me: 1) We need a non-campus weekly, as evidenced by many of the ridiculous categories/results (Q: "Best place to have a first kiss?" A: The Quad); and 2) I don't miss counting those ballots one iota (fuck ballot-stuffing restaurants and bar bands alike).
8) I've narrowed down my selections for the epic Songs About Girls compilation to 70 songs. I'm handing this sucker out for Xmas presents this year, instead of the usual "Best of 200X" CDs. (Sorry to all who liked those so much, but I didn't buy enough music from 2006 to justify doing one this year.) More on Songs About Girls at a later date.
9) Has anyone else discovered "The Tube", the random music video channel on our local digital cable package? I can't remember what station it is now that they've renumbered all the channels above 100, but it's worth flipping to during the commercial breaks during Bulls games. You're just as likely to get The Moody Blues as you are The Talking Heads, but at least it's all videos, all the time -- and no commercials!
10) Man, I miss the jukebox at Les' Lounge. I hate hate hate these new digital, internet jukeboxes. The one at Mike & Molly's is a rip-off with the worst songs/dollar ratio in town. Can we all agree that while it's convenient to be able to select "Trash" by the New York Dolls b/w "Look What the Cat Dragged In" by Poison as part of your "cock rock block", it doesn't excuse the fact that internet-aided automation equals laziness? Bars used to be defined by their beer selection and their jukebox. As a serious jukebox DJ, I prefer working around the limitations of a juke rather than having Napster at my fingertips. Fuck technology!
11.08.2006
Hard to sleep last night
First of all, a hearty congrats to the Democrats for taking back the House!
When I went to bed last night, the race had just turned in the Dems favor in Missouri, and Montana was looking good with over 50 percent reporting. This morning, the news looks even better, although it appears were far from out of the woods in Virginia and Montana. Initial reporting says the Dems won in each state by the slimmest of margins, but we all know what can happen from this point forward (as they likely recount votes) is anyone's guess. Still, the Dems have almost regained control of the Senate, too!
Not to look too far ahead ... but if you haven't read Barack Obama's first book, Dreams from My Father, you most definitely should. I'm in the process of doing so now, and it's such a compelling read. Written over a decade ago, the book chronicles the life of now 45 year-old Obama, much of it dealing with his youth. It reads more like a work of fiction, in part because the writing is so good, and in part because Obama's story is so magnificent and foreign (he spent time as a youth growing up in Indonesia, for example). But mostly, it's because you get so far inside Obama's head that you find yourself wondering -- often -- why anyone with political aspirations would ever let you in there in the first place. How refreshing to read a book written by a politician that seems genuine. It's an engaging story of searching for one's identity and purpose, something I suspect will resonate with plenty of strivers on either side of the political fence. If you have any interest in the most-hyped man in U.S. politics, then this is a must read (not that you haven't heard that a thousand times already).
When I went to bed last night, the race had just turned in the Dems favor in Missouri, and Montana was looking good with over 50 percent reporting. This morning, the news looks even better, although it appears were far from out of the woods in Virginia and Montana. Initial reporting says the Dems won in each state by the slimmest of margins, but we all know what can happen from this point forward (as they likely recount votes) is anyone's guess. Still, the Dems have almost regained control of the Senate, too!
Not to look too far ahead ... but if you haven't read Barack Obama's first book, Dreams from My Father, you most definitely should. I'm in the process of doing so now, and it's such a compelling read. Written over a decade ago, the book chronicles the life of now 45 year-old Obama, much of it dealing with his youth. It reads more like a work of fiction, in part because the writing is so good, and in part because Obama's story is so magnificent and foreign (he spent time as a youth growing up in Indonesia, for example). But mostly, it's because you get so far inside Obama's head that you find yourself wondering -- often -- why anyone with political aspirations would ever let you in there in the first place. How refreshing to read a book written by a politician that seems genuine. It's an engaging story of searching for one's identity and purpose, something I suspect will resonate with plenty of strivers on either side of the political fence. If you have any interest in the most-hyped man in U.S. politics, then this is a must read (not that you haven't heard that a thousand times already).
11.04.2006
Mamas don't let your babies grow up...
...to be cowboys.
Good enough for 3rd place at the work Halloween party!
Complete with a 1985 Farm Aid t-shirt (from Champaign's Memorial Stadium no less) and a 6-inch doobie (not pictured) compliments of Chris. I even added a publishing slant to the costume, since I work for a publisher. Willie was on a book promotional tour for his new book, The Tao of Willie. He was dropping by SP to see if they had any interest in a new book he was hoping to publish, tentatively titled Golf After 60: Finding Zen on the Back Nine. I even said I'd take my advance in golf balls and Mary Jane, but alas, no takers.
Good enough for 3rd place at the work Halloween party!
Complete with a 1985 Farm Aid t-shirt (from Champaign's Memorial Stadium no less) and a 6-inch doobie (not pictured) compliments of Chris. I even added a publishing slant to the costume, since I work for a publisher. Willie was on a book promotional tour for his new book, The Tao of Willie. He was dropping by SP to see if they had any interest in a new book he was hoping to publish, tentatively titled Golf After 60: Finding Zen on the Back Nine. I even said I'd take my advance in golf balls and Mary Jane, but alas, no takers.
11.02.2006
Talking how much are we gonna miss Dee Brown blues
Big Ten Wonk stole my headline (and that of about 100 other would-be reporters) in his post today: "Where will the points come from for Illinois?" It's the question on every Illini fan's mind -- well, that and "Are we sure Dee Brown doesn't have another year of elligibility?" (I checked, and Dee is quite happy on the Jazz's inactive list, sitting beside The Rev. They've got the best seat in the house to watch Deron post 16 points and 8 assists a night for the up-and-coming Jazz.)Last night's opening exhibition game against Lewis was quite possibly the most boring blowout I've ever witnessed (in stark contrast to the Bulls thrashing of the Heat on opening night). The lack of dramatic open-court dunks (Lewis fouled -- sometimes hard -- when those opportunities arose); the sloppy play (from both teams); the inability of Jamar Smith to ignite the crowd with a three-pointer (he was 0-for-8 following a 2-for-9 performance in the Orange/Blue Scrimmage); the whistle-happy refs (in particular one zebra who couldn't swallow his whistle over the game's final minutes as the other two had done); the Assembly Hall seats (gotta be the most uncomfortable seats in the Big Ten): it all made for one painful viewing experience. But the Illini still won 83-58 in a laugher against a team that didn't sport a player taller than 6-foot-6.
I think the bulk of what will trouble the Illini this season presented itself in plain detail last night against a mediocre, Division-II school. And here's a quick run-down:
1) Can this team shoot from beyond the arc if Smith's shot isn't falling? The answer as of last night is "NO!" Illinois converted just 14 percent of its three-point attempts. Sure, Rich McBride sat out on account of his (too light) penalty for a DUI. With him on the floor, the Illini have another three-point threat. Certainly, Trent Meacham (who shot 2-for-5 on threes) will be helpful from long range. But then you're left with, uh, Chester Frazier, Calvin Brock, and Brian Randle? I don't like those odds. Chet the Jet has shot 4-for-9 in exhibition from beyond the arc, but anyone who saw him shoot the rock last year has to question whether he can maintain that precision in games that count against quality defenders. Ditto for Brock and Randle, rebuilt shot or not. The troubling thing about Smith's inability to convert early on is that the defensive pressure is only going intensify on him this season. He's the new Dee Brown -- the guy who opponents' game plans will focus on. He's not going to get a lot of easy looks this year from beyond the arc. And that worries me.
2) Can this team rebound? They had a distinct size advantage over Lewis, and yet they were still outrebounded 40-37, including allowing the Flyers 13 offensive rebounds. That ain't gonna get it done -- especially when your guards are outrebounding your bigs (Frazier and Brock combined for 12 boards; War-ren Car-ter, Marcus Arnold, and Shaun Pruitt grabbed just seven). Lewis out-hustled the Illini on the glass, using quickness to get in a better position to rebound. That will have to change, and fast. For a team stocked with bigs, Illinois needs to own the glass. I hope to see significant improvement from Carter, especially, but also Randle.
3) Can this team defend without fouling the other team to death? At several points in the second half of last night's game, Coach Weber could be distinctly heard shouting "Don't foul!" to his players. Sure, the refs were breaking in their new whistles, but the Illini also gave them reason to blow hard. Illinois defenders were overplaying the perimeter players as typical, but then relying on their hands instead of their feet to help them out when the opposing player made a move to the hoop. They hustled their tails off on defense, but the team's inexperience showed in making some stupid fouls. Still, the defensive pressure forced 22 turnovers, including nine alone from Lewis' starting guards.
4) Can anyone sink their free throws? Last night, we shot 56 percent. If we shoot like that in the Big Ten, we're going to be a bottom-feeder. Frazier was only a 50 percent shooter last season from the charity stripe, and in last night's contest he was 1-for-6 after shooting just 4-for-8 in the team scrimmage. As primary ballhander, he's going to get some opportunities, and he needs to develop into at least a 65 percent shooter by Big Ten play. Pruitt will also need to greatly improve upon his 48 percent shooting from last season. As active as he figures to be on the offensive boards and as the team's primary low-post scoring option, he needs to develop some kind of stroke from the foul line. These two guys are going to shoot a lot of free throws this season, and if they're only hitting 50 percent of them, you can bet that Illinois is going to lose a few close games as a result.
Now, let's look at what I feel are this team's keys to success.
1) Brian Randle. We need him healthy and on the floor for at least 30-35 minutes a game. He's our best player, and more importantly our best defender on a team that will need to rely on defense and hustle to win games in the Big 10. There's been so much attention given to his offensive improvement; but to be honest, as long as he gets his four dunks a game, can hit the occasional open J, and improves his free-throw percentage (I'd be thrilled with 70 percent), that's good enough for me. I just want him on the court a bulk of the game, shutting down the opponent's best scorer. He'll have another offseason and his senior year to continue to make strides on offense.
2) Chester Frazier. The kid has really impressed thus far in exhibition games, showing an ability to hit a jump shot and get into the lane and to the rim. He's going to be a solid point guard, as he takes care of the ball and generally makes good passes and decisions. If he gives us anything as far as scoring is concerned, his teammates should be very thankful. We need him to make his defender play him honest, and I suspect he'll do that by penetrating often and dishing to open teammates. My prediction: fans are going to love this kid. By the time his Illini career is up, we'll be casually asking, "Do you remember that Dee Brown? Man, he was fast, but Chet the Jet, now there's a kid who can really get up and down the floor..."
3) The Illini bigs. We need our collection of tall boys to develop into a cohesive whole that is capable of becoming a strength each and every game. I don't mean simply in terms of scoring. Yes, some interior scoring will be helpful. But I'm more worried about neutralizing the opposing team's big men (and we have enough big bodies/fouls to do that) and getting it done on the boards. We need to post yet another top-notch points-per-possession number on defense, making sure that opponents get only one shot at scoring each trip down the court.
4) Rich McBride. He's been given a third chance to get it right, and the senior needs to take advantage of it. We need him to improve his three-point shooting from 40 percent to the mid-40s, and we need him to put the ball on the floor and drive into the lane with more frequency. Of our regulars, he's our best free-throw shooter by far, and we need him to get to the line at least five times a night.
Overall, I think we will live and die by our defensive effort each night. I don't think that we're a team that will be unable to score, but I do think that we'll need to remain focused on defense, forcing turnovers, and points off turnovers, if we're going to be among the Big Ten's best teams this year. We'll need to maximize our potential for "easy baskets" -- both in transition and at the foul line -- because I do believe we'll struggle (much as we did last year) through scoring droughts. The more we force the issue, on both ends of the court, and remain aggressive, the better our chances to return to the NCAA tourney.
I'm predicting a 12-3 pre-conference record, and a 9-7 mark in the Big Ten for an overall record of 21-10 heading into the Big Ten tourney. If we win a game in the tourney, I think we make the Big Dance.
10.29.2006
Why sportswriters suck
I really haven't had a chance to cut loose yet, and that sucks. But after working 28 hours of overtime in the past three days, the Carinals World Series book is finally at the printer. With my name on the cover. And probably full of errors that I couldn't catch because I was in a state of bleary-eyed hysteria after working two straight graveyard shifts, followed by four hours of sleep, and then a 14-hour day on Saturday.
But now that it's at the printer, I can finally catch up on everything I missed. I can celebrate during everyone else's post-celebration hangover. I'm going to re-watch Game 5 today, because my first screening of the game was interrupted several times by the printer calling with proofs to review. M made me put down the laptop for the final three outs, thank goodness, so I could experience some joy in a live setting. But I still haven't had that post-victory cry that I expect is welling up in me.
If I let that out this morning, it will look more like tears of rage, however. What is up with America's sportwriters? Not that this will be news to anyone who reads the sports section on a daily basis, but sportwriters are some of the worst writers on Earth -- and on top of that they're gutless sheep who spend about as much time thinking about what they're writing as they do improving their understanding of the games they cover. Far too little. They can't find the storyline -- or refuse to acknowledge it -- through their typical, juvenile snobbery.
Indulge me, please, as I itch my Midwest inferiority complex. The Cardinals were praised prior to the 2006 season as a team with a great shot at winning the NL Central and making it back to the Fall Classic. Why? They had the reigning MVP and Cy Young winners, and with Rolen and Edmonds they boasted a stable veteran core. But in truth, they were a shaky team on paper from the start, and things didn't improve in that regard due to in-season acquisitions. We were a team of castoffs solidified by two of the best players in the game today. When you put it down on paper, it's sort of startling. Eckstein was DFA'd by the Angels. Miles and Belliard were both traded by their respective clubs, considered less valuable than middling prospects and fat old relievers. Very few teams took any interest in Encarnacion in the offseason. Or Spiezio. Preston Wilson was cut by the Stros. Weaver was going to be cut, until we traded for him. And we didn't exactly have to get in a bidding war with any other club to land Taguchi three years ago. Our pen consisted of a dude who pitched in the indy leagues just a couple years ago (Kinney), two lefties that have never been on any scout's radar, a Reds castoff, a rookie in his first year of pen service, and a guy who got boo'd out of NYC. And don't forget about the Cardinals converted "outfielder" who prior to hitting 21 homers in 3 months was considered a nepotistic addition to the roster.
St. Louis played like crap for four months of the season, in part due to a ton of significant injuries (Pujols, Rolen, Edmonds, Eckstein, Mulder, and Isringhausen). But come October, the team was relatively healthy again. And they still had the reigning MVP and Cy Young -- both of which were gunning for to repeat in that department. But because a sportswriter's only memory is recent memory, those same critics who lauded St. Louis as "a good bet" now thought that the Cardinals were "a good bet to get swept" by the Padres, then the Mets, then the Tigers. Either they fucked up seven months ago when they said St. Louis was a great team, or they fucked up in October by failing to remember what they had written seven months ago.
Or maybe the Cardinals truly had become a crappy team in the meantime. But I don't think so. As much as I bitched this season about my team's performance, I did so because I'm a perfectionist that has been conditioned to a high standard. These Cardinals were not the NL juggernaut of their '04 brethren, but they were a far cry from the laughingstock of the playoffs. The Cardinals were built around the philosophy of their World Series MVP, the blue-collar Eckstein: flash isn't necessary, just hard work. They were a team led by veterans who had been-there-done-that in the postseason, but were still hungry for that first ring. And, I have to admit, they were led by a manager who just happened to be on top of his game at the right time.
Still, they can't get no respect. Not even after winning the whole shebang. Not even after beating three of the best pitching staffs in the Majors. Not even after overcoming a poor-by-his-standards postseason from Pujols.
Here's a sampling of the tone that's being adopted by plenty of columnists from around the country. This from Bill Plaschke of the L.A. Times:
You get his point. And unfortunately, it's the same point that is being made by a host of writers: St. Louis, an inferior 83-win team, lucked into a World Series title. While a certain portion of baseball is luck -- "a game of inches" -- a lucky team does not win 11 games in October. It takes a good one. It took a good one to beat the Mets, that's for sure. And it took a good one to beat the Tigers, too, a team that plowed through supposedly superior AL teams to make it to the Fall Classic. Even without those eight errors -- and last time I checked fielding is still a significant part of the game -- the Cardinals would likely at worst be facing a Game 7 today. Why? Because St. Louis pitchers manhandled a good Tigers lineup and tamed an even better Mets one.
Pitching wins ballgames in October. The Cardinals didn't bring the good stuff in June. Or August. Or September. But in October, they brought their A game against baseball's best teams. And that's why they are the '06 champions. You want a story to write, sportswriters? How about tyring out the real story. You may be familiar with it already: a talented Midwest sports team drowning in turmoil bonds at the right time to defeat Goliath. If you need a refresher, just rent Hoosiers.
In the meantime, I'm going to stop reading your slop before it kills my buzz.
UPDATE: Brian Gunn sings a similar tune (to me) over at Hardball Times. Worth a read if you're still not convinced.
But now that it's at the printer, I can finally catch up on everything I missed. I can celebrate during everyone else's post-celebration hangover. I'm going to re-watch Game 5 today, because my first screening of the game was interrupted several times by the printer calling with proofs to review. M made me put down the laptop for the final three outs, thank goodness, so I could experience some joy in a live setting. But I still haven't had that post-victory cry that I expect is welling up in me.
If I let that out this morning, it will look more like tears of rage, however. What is up with America's sportwriters? Not that this will be news to anyone who reads the sports section on a daily basis, but sportwriters are some of the worst writers on Earth -- and on top of that they're gutless sheep who spend about as much time thinking about what they're writing as they do improving their understanding of the games they cover. Far too little. They can't find the storyline -- or refuse to acknowledge it -- through their typical, juvenile snobbery.
Indulge me, please, as I itch my Midwest inferiority complex. The Cardinals were praised prior to the 2006 season as a team with a great shot at winning the NL Central and making it back to the Fall Classic. Why? They had the reigning MVP and Cy Young winners, and with Rolen and Edmonds they boasted a stable veteran core. But in truth, they were a shaky team on paper from the start, and things didn't improve in that regard due to in-season acquisitions. We were a team of castoffs solidified by two of the best players in the game today. When you put it down on paper, it's sort of startling. Eckstein was DFA'd by the Angels. Miles and Belliard were both traded by their respective clubs, considered less valuable than middling prospects and fat old relievers. Very few teams took any interest in Encarnacion in the offseason. Or Spiezio. Preston Wilson was cut by the Stros. Weaver was going to be cut, until we traded for him. And we didn't exactly have to get in a bidding war with any other club to land Taguchi three years ago. Our pen consisted of a dude who pitched in the indy leagues just a couple years ago (Kinney), two lefties that have never been on any scout's radar, a Reds castoff, a rookie in his first year of pen service, and a guy who got boo'd out of NYC. And don't forget about the Cardinals converted "outfielder" who prior to hitting 21 homers in 3 months was considered a nepotistic addition to the roster.
St. Louis played like crap for four months of the season, in part due to a ton of significant injuries (Pujols, Rolen, Edmonds, Eckstein, Mulder, and Isringhausen). But come October, the team was relatively healthy again. And they still had the reigning MVP and Cy Young -- both of which were gunning for to repeat in that department. But because a sportswriter's only memory is recent memory, those same critics who lauded St. Louis as "a good bet" now thought that the Cardinals were "a good bet to get swept" by the Padres, then the Mets, then the Tigers. Either they fucked up seven months ago when they said St. Louis was a great team, or they fucked up in October by failing to remember what they had written seven months ago.
Or maybe the Cardinals truly had become a crappy team in the meantime. But I don't think so. As much as I bitched this season about my team's performance, I did so because I'm a perfectionist that has been conditioned to a high standard. These Cardinals were not the NL juggernaut of their '04 brethren, but they were a far cry from the laughingstock of the playoffs. The Cardinals were built around the philosophy of their World Series MVP, the blue-collar Eckstein: flash isn't necessary, just hard work. They were a team led by veterans who had been-there-done-that in the postseason, but were still hungry for that first ring. And, I have to admit, they were led by a manager who just happened to be on top of his game at the right time.
Still, they can't get no respect. Not even after winning the whole shebang. Not even after beating three of the best pitching staffs in the Majors. Not even after overcoming a poor-by-his-standards postseason from Pujols.
Here's a sampling of the tone that's being adopted by plenty of columnists from around the country. This from Bill Plaschke of the L.A. Times:
When historians recall the 2006 World Series, which mercifully ended Friday on another odd night of freezing winds and flocking birds, one word will come to mind.
It will not be Cardinals, who, let's face it, won a world championship by virtue of possessing a pulse.
It will not be Weaver, the Angels and Dodgers bust who blearily stumbled his way into postseason religion.
It will not be Eckstein, the wonderful little Series MVP who will live longer as a Bill Stoneman nightmare.
The word will not be a name, but a directive, one that defined a team and detailed an embarrassment.
The word will be "Duck!"
Here comes a short throw from a Detroit Tigers pitcher to the third baseman -- duck!
Here comes a throw from a Tigers pitcher to the first baseman -- duck!
You get his point. And unfortunately, it's the same point that is being made by a host of writers: St. Louis, an inferior 83-win team, lucked into a World Series title. While a certain portion of baseball is luck -- "a game of inches" -- a lucky team does not win 11 games in October. It takes a good one. It took a good one to beat the Mets, that's for sure. And it took a good one to beat the Tigers, too, a team that plowed through supposedly superior AL teams to make it to the Fall Classic. Even without those eight errors -- and last time I checked fielding is still a significant part of the game -- the Cardinals would likely at worst be facing a Game 7 today. Why? Because St. Louis pitchers manhandled a good Tigers lineup and tamed an even better Mets one.
Pitching wins ballgames in October. The Cardinals didn't bring the good stuff in June. Or August. Or September. But in October, they brought their A game against baseball's best teams. And that's why they are the '06 champions. You want a story to write, sportswriters? How about tyring out the real story. You may be familiar with it already: a talented Midwest sports team drowning in turmoil bonds at the right time to defeat Goliath. If you need a refresher, just rent Hoosiers.
In the meantime, I'm going to stop reading your slop before it kills my buzz.
UPDATE: Brian Gunn sings a similar tune (to me) over at Hardball Times. Worth a read if you're still not convinced.
10.28.2006
The SWEET taste of victory!
In Year 30, it finally arrived.
More to come later. Unfortunately, tonight I will not be following in David Eckstein's footsteps. Instead, I'm working the second 18-hour day in a row in an effort to complete our World Series book on the Cardinals, which we'll send to the printer tomorrow morning. I'm actually writing a good deal of the text that will accompany this photo-centric book, for better or worse. I'm getting my first editorial byline on a cover as a result.
10.24.2006
Woo-hoo!!! Win No. 2!
Take that Kenny Rogers. We'll beat'cha fair and square.
All that's left is for us to play .500 ball for the next 4 games and, well, I'm not even gonna say it.
Do you realize that the Cardinals have a 2.71 ERA this postseason, and that all four of their starting pitchers have posted ERAs of 3.00 or under? Do you realize that prior to tonight's start, Carpenter had the highest ERA of those four starters? That, my friends, is astounding. And that is why we're two games away from, well, you know.
All that's left is for us to play .500 ball for the next 4 games and, well, I'm not even gonna say it.
Do you realize that the Cardinals have a 2.71 ERA this postseason, and that all four of their starting pitchers have posted ERAs of 3.00 or under? Do you realize that prior to tonight's start, Carpenter had the highest ERA of those four starters? That, my friends, is astounding. And that is why we're two games away from, well, you know.
10.22.2006
Rogers does his best Eddie Harris
Ricky "Wild Thing" Vaughn: What's that shit on your chest?
Eddie Harris: [wiping his finger across his chest] Crisco. [wiping it across his waist line] Bardol. [wiping it along his head] Vagisil. Any one of them will give you another two to three inches drop on your curve ball. Of course if the umps are watching me real close I'll rub a little jalapeno up my nose, get it runnin', and if I need to load the ball up I just... [wipes his nose] ...wipe my nose.
Vaughn: You put snot on the ball?
Harris: I haven't got an arm like you, kid. I have to put anything on it I can find. Someday you will too.
Does that soundbite from Major League sound familiar after watching Game 2 of the World Series? Starring as Harris: The Gambler in a locker room full of 98-mph throwin'-24 year-olds.
I noticed the crap on Rogers' hand right before the Fox broadcasters brought it up. Maybe it was nothing intentional, but Tim McCarver -- if he knows anything -- surely knows what pine tar looks like. Having been a catcher, he knows how pitchers cheat. So why would he even bring it up if he didn't have a strong hunch? I suppose controversary sells....
Rogers: Er, what substance on my hand?
Ump: Why are you rubbing my shoulder with your hand?
Rogers: Oh, am I?
Ump: Yes, you are.
Rogers: Sorry 'bout that. See, there's nothing on my hand.
With or without a little help from a foreign substance, Rogers was dominant tonight. Still, if he was using something, I'm not sure why the umps didn't do more than ask him to wash his hands. (I'm not sure that's what actually happened. Fox's reporting on the subject during the game was vague at best. Maybe the postgame reporting will reveal whether Rogers washed it off between innings, or washed it off only after being prompted to do so by the umps.) If the latter was true, and he was guilty, then he should've been tossed from the game with a suspension pending. Them's the rules.
At any rate, I'm happy to be heading back to St. Louis with the series tied, our ace on the mound in Game 3, and Rogers out of the picture until Game 6.
UPDATE: ESPN has photographic evidence: Rogers is a cheat. In his start in the ALCS, he featured the same mysterious blob on his pitching hand. See the photo below to compare the two starts.
(click on the image for a close-up)
Eddie Harris: [wiping his finger across his chest] Crisco. [wiping it across his waist line] Bardol. [wiping it along his head] Vagisil. Any one of them will give you another two to three inches drop on your curve ball. Of course if the umps are watching me real close I'll rub a little jalapeno up my nose, get it runnin', and if I need to load the ball up I just... [wipes his nose] ...wipe my nose.
Vaughn: You put snot on the ball?
Harris: I haven't got an arm like you, kid. I have to put anything on it I can find. Someday you will too.
Does that soundbite from Major League sound familiar after watching Game 2 of the World Series? Starring as Harris: The Gambler in a locker room full of 98-mph throwin'-24 year-olds.
I noticed the crap on Rogers' hand right before the Fox broadcasters brought it up. Maybe it was nothing intentional, but Tim McCarver -- if he knows anything -- surely knows what pine tar looks like. Having been a catcher, he knows how pitchers cheat. So why would he even bring it up if he didn't have a strong hunch? I suppose controversary sells....
Rogers: Er, what substance on my hand?
Ump: Why are you rubbing my shoulder with your hand?
Rogers: Oh, am I?
Ump: Yes, you are.
Rogers: Sorry 'bout that. See, there's nothing on my hand.
With or without a little help from a foreign substance, Rogers was dominant tonight. Still, if he was using something, I'm not sure why the umps didn't do more than ask him to wash his hands. (I'm not sure that's what actually happened. Fox's reporting on the subject during the game was vague at best. Maybe the postgame reporting will reveal whether Rogers washed it off between innings, or washed it off only after being prompted to do so by the umps.) If the latter was true, and he was guilty, then he should've been tossed from the game with a suspension pending. Them's the rules.
At any rate, I'm happy to be heading back to St. Louis with the series tied, our ace on the mound in Game 3, and Rogers out of the picture until Game 6.
UPDATE: ESPN has photographic evidence: Rogers is a cheat. In his start in the ALCS, he featured the same mysterious blob on his pitching hand. See the photo below to compare the two starts.
10.21.2006
Cards take Game 1!
Surprised? You shouldn't be. Reyes can pitch. I told M to expect good things from the rookie prior to the start of the game, and now I can gloat. My game summary follows:
SMOKIN'
SORTA SMOKIN' 
EH, MAYBE NOT SO MUCH 
DEFINITELY NOT SMOKIN': TIGERS FAN WEAR TOO MUCH FACE PAINT 
10.20.2006
W-O-W! What. A. Game.
"Baseball is a game of inches." It's a cliché, for sure. But after watching Game 7 of the '06 NLCS, you can see why that phrase has stuck around. It's appropriate. Endy Chavez made one of the most spectacular catches I've ever seen, snowconing a ball that was over the fence after making a dead-run for the track and a mighty leap into the wall. Even if I forget the stage Chavez was standing on when he made that catch -- even if it was Game 101 of the season on a Wednesday afternoon -- it was still one of the best catches I've ever seen. So much skill -- and luck -- was involved in making that catch. It should have broken the Cardinals' back. It sure broke mine. Rolen and his bum shoulder couldn't buy a big hit in this series. And when he finally got a hold of one in a tight game, he was robbed. Poor guy. You had to feel sorry for him.
I thought the game was surely going to the Mets after that turn of events, and I'm sure every Mets fan felt the same way. Big Mo had shifted to them. In their next at bat in the bottom of the 6th, the Mets loaded the bases on a walk, a Rolen error (one of the worst errors I've ever seen, too), and another walk. Suppan was backed into a corner. Not one Cardinal fan would have blamed him if a run scored in that situation. He'd pitched a hell of a game, a hell of a series, up until that point. He could have folded. The Mets had Big Mo at their side, and two chances to score the go-ahead run. But Soup has ice in his veins. The cerebral Maddox wannabe knows how to keep his composure on the mound. He never looks too bothered out there. Even with the pennant on the line.
Everyone in Shea knew that the other Jose was going to see some curve balls from Suppan. Didn't matter. Soup threw him fastballs up in the zone to keep him off his Uncle Charlie. And sure enough, it worked. Strikeout. Two outs. It would be up to the man who made The Catch. But luckily for Cardinals fans, Chavez had already used every ounce of positive karma he had coming to him in the top of the 6th. He flied out to center to end the inning. Suppan swung Big Mo back in the Cardinals corner.
With Perez out of the game, I released a sigh of relief, because oddly enough it was the Mets relief -- touted by pundits before the series began as the Mets edge over the Cards (boy did they pick wrong) -- that we had our best shot against. We had touched up the Mets best reliever, Wagner, in this series. But we couldn't string much of anything together against the Mets starters. In the top of the ninth, Randolph stuck with Heilman, probably because Cards hitters had already proven their worth against Wagner. Rolen redeemed himself for a horrendous error with a one-out single. With that, our best playoff hitter -- who just happened to be our worst regular season hitter -- stepped to the plate: Yadi. Whack! Ballgame.
Almost.
There was but one tiny hurdle left to clear: the bottom of the ninth. I told M heading into the top of the ninth, "If we're going to pick a time to score, now would be a good time." Not because it was, after all, the ninth inning. But rather because if we scored, the Mets had the bottom of their order coming up next. Their chances of scoring would be greatly diminished. Or would they?
Wainwright has been anything but Isringhausen-esque this postseason. He's been dominant, never clogging the basepaths with runners or flirting with disaster. But on this night, the NL's best offense would give this kid a true gut check.
Single. Single. Two on, nobody out. Wainwright can't locate his best pitch, the Hammer. Does Randolph bunt in this situation, moving both runners into scoring position? Nope. Does he send his best available hitter to the plate to pinch-hit for the pitcher? Nope. He bypasses Franco for Floyd. Bad call. The ump's strike zone is generous tonight, and Floyd goes down looking. The real Jose -- the guy it's hard to hate because of the smile, the chant, the youth, the passion, the talent -- digs into the batter's box and smokes a flat curve ball into center field. Edmonds is there. Like always.
All Wainwright needs to do is retire Lo Duca. Just get him out and Cardinals nation doesn't have to face its worst fears -- the man standing on deck, Beltran. Lo Duca works the walk. I let out a hundred half-intellible "fuck"s. The Cardinal Killer, at the plate, the Cardinals up by two runs, bases juiced, two outs, bottom of the ninth. This is baseball, folks. This is why we watch the game. This is why it's still the best game on Earth.
Strike one on a hittable fastball that Beltran doesn't offer at. Strike two on a curve that Beltran barely nicks. No way Wainwright is throwing another fastball to Beltran. Would he dare? He's been throwing a slider this inning, too. But that's his third-best pitch. He's gotta go with the Hook, right? Pull the string? It's one of the best curves in the business. With a sharp, downward break, it makes All-Stars look like scrubs. Even Cardinal Killers. Strike three, looking. Ballgame.
Eu-fucking-phoria.
Will New Yorkers remember The Catch for years to come? I know I sure will -- because of how my team responded to it.
I thought the game was surely going to the Mets after that turn of events, and I'm sure every Mets fan felt the same way. Big Mo had shifted to them. In their next at bat in the bottom of the 6th, the Mets loaded the bases on a walk, a Rolen error (one of the worst errors I've ever seen, too), and another walk. Suppan was backed into a corner. Not one Cardinal fan would have blamed him if a run scored in that situation. He'd pitched a hell of a game, a hell of a series, up until that point. He could have folded. The Mets had Big Mo at their side, and two chances to score the go-ahead run. But Soup has ice in his veins. The cerebral Maddox wannabe knows how to keep his composure on the mound. He never looks too bothered out there. Even with the pennant on the line.
Everyone in Shea knew that the other Jose was going to see some curve balls from Suppan. Didn't matter. Soup threw him fastballs up in the zone to keep him off his Uncle Charlie. And sure enough, it worked. Strikeout. Two outs. It would be up to the man who made The Catch. But luckily for Cardinals fans, Chavez had already used every ounce of positive karma he had coming to him in the top of the 6th. He flied out to center to end the inning. Suppan swung Big Mo back in the Cardinals corner.
With Perez out of the game, I released a sigh of relief, because oddly enough it was the Mets relief -- touted by pundits before the series began as the Mets edge over the Cards (boy did they pick wrong) -- that we had our best shot against. We had touched up the Mets best reliever, Wagner, in this series. But we couldn't string much of anything together against the Mets starters. In the top of the ninth, Randolph stuck with Heilman, probably because Cards hitters had already proven their worth against Wagner. Rolen redeemed himself for a horrendous error with a one-out single. With that, our best playoff hitter -- who just happened to be our worst regular season hitter -- stepped to the plate: Yadi. Whack! Ballgame.
Almost.
There was but one tiny hurdle left to clear: the bottom of the ninth. I told M heading into the top of the ninth, "If we're going to pick a time to score, now would be a good time." Not because it was, after all, the ninth inning. But rather because if we scored, the Mets had the bottom of their order coming up next. Their chances of scoring would be greatly diminished. Or would they?
Wainwright has been anything but Isringhausen-esque this postseason. He's been dominant, never clogging the basepaths with runners or flirting with disaster. But on this night, the NL's best offense would give this kid a true gut check.
Single. Single. Two on, nobody out. Wainwright can't locate his best pitch, the Hammer. Does Randolph bunt in this situation, moving both runners into scoring position? Nope. Does he send his best available hitter to the plate to pinch-hit for the pitcher? Nope. He bypasses Franco for Floyd. Bad call. The ump's strike zone is generous tonight, and Floyd goes down looking. The real Jose -- the guy it's hard to hate because of the smile, the chant, the youth, the passion, the talent -- digs into the batter's box and smokes a flat curve ball into center field. Edmonds is there. Like always.
All Wainwright needs to do is retire Lo Duca. Just get him out and Cardinals nation doesn't have to face its worst fears -- the man standing on deck, Beltran. Lo Duca works the walk. I let out a hundred half-intellible "fuck"s. The Cardinal Killer, at the plate, the Cardinals up by two runs, bases juiced, two outs, bottom of the ninth. This is baseball, folks. This is why we watch the game. This is why it's still the best game on Earth.
Strike one on a hittable fastball that Beltran doesn't offer at. Strike two on a curve that Beltran barely nicks. No way Wainwright is throwing another fastball to Beltran. Would he dare? He's been throwing a slider this inning, too. But that's his third-best pitch. He's gotta go with the Hook, right? Pull the string? It's one of the best curves in the business. With a sharp, downward break, it makes All-Stars look like scrubs. Even Cardinal Killers. Strike three, looking. Ballgame.
Eu-fucking-phoria.
Will New Yorkers remember The Catch for years to come? I know I sure will -- because of how my team responded to it.
10.16.2006
Rain rain, go away
Hats off to Jeff Suppan, who silenced the Mets' Murderers Row, and hit a home run himself in a stellar Game 3 performance. And hats off to the Mets Murderers Row, who awoke in Game 4 to remind me what a superior 3-4-5 looks like. With today's game rained out, I'll take a moment to reflect and predict. Considering that we're knotted up at two games a piece and the Cards have yet to get a maximum performance from either Pujols -- who is getting on base but not driving them in (because there hasn't been anyone for him drive in) -- or Carpenter, I feel pretty good about our odds to take two more games in this series. The home/road split now favors the Mets if the series goes seven. But we've got our two best pitchers slated to pitch in Games 6 and 7, and Mr. Weaver -- who all of a sudden has found his groove -- goes tomorrow. I think our pen will rebound well enough to keep us in games, and I hope that Pujols walks the walk against Glavine tomorrow (after talking the talk last week). La Russa says that Pujols is battling a sore hammy, and that is zapping some of his power. Hmmm ... not sure I believe that entirely, but whatever. The dude has been robbed a few times on hard hit balls this series; I think he's due.
In other news, the Cubs hired Lou Piniella to a three-year deal. Piniella, who just got his broadcasting partner Psycho Lyons fired, had been widely rumored to be taking over for Torre in New York. The guy was a Pro with a capital P as a player, a .291 career hitter for the Royals and Yanks. And he's been a successful Major League skipper, too, boasting a .517 winning percentage and World Series title. But more importantly, he's got a good record of turning around underperforming teams. In '90 he led the Reds to the title after the year's previous team -- much the same roster -- finished 14 games under .500. That team featured a lot of younger talent: Barry Larkin, Paul O'Neill, Eric Davis, Hal Morris, Chris Sabo, Mariano Duncan, Randy Myers, Rob Dibble, Jose Rijo, and Jack Armstrong -- all between the ages of 25 and 28. And under Piniella in '90 they gelled, burying the NL West competition by 9.5 games by July 1.
In '93, Lou took over in Seattle for a team that had won just 64 games in '92. The '92 club was near the league bottom in runs scored and runs allowed, but with Lou at the helm they improved markedly and finished two games above .500. After a set-back in the strike-shortened '94 season, Piniella's '95 Mariners won the division in a tight race down the stretch with the Angels. Again, Sweet Lou was working with several key younger guys like Griffey and Tino Martinez and some 19 year-old named A-Rod. The M's went on to greater heights -- including the remarkable 116-win season in '01 -- under Piniella.
After a great stretch with the Mariners, Piniella bolted for the money in Tampa Bay following the 2002 season, and here's where his managerial career takes a turn for the worse. But it's hard to blame Lou for the Rays woes, as no one could have done significantly better with such mediocre talent in a stacked AL West division. And Lou did get the most out of his young position players, as 21 year-olds Rocco Baldelli and Carl Crawford both had outstanding campaigns in '03.
Given his track record for righting the ship, and the Cubs solid mix of veteran and youthful talent, I expect good things from Piniella's new club next season. If he still has that fire in his belly -- his tirades against umps are legendary, and he once wrestled his own reliever in the clubhouse (and who can blame him considering it was Dibble?) -- then I expect the Cubs to find new motivation next season. Of course, a lot depends on what offseason moves they make. They have serious issues to work out in their pitching staff. And at 63 years old and shortly removed from the rebuilding Rays, one has to wonder if Piniella has the patience to handle a slow, youth-oriented makeover. It will also be interesting to see how his hiring affects the Cards-Cubs rivalry. It's safe to say that Baker and La Russa weren't best buds; but La Russa and Piniella are actually good friends who have bonded over their Tampa roots. Of course, they do have some history, thanks to Tony's stint in the AL prior to coming to the Cards. I wish I had the time to look up their head-to-head stats. (Oh, fuck it, here goes ... Take it for what it's worth, but Tony's teams have gone 40-32 against Lou's teams. But Lou got the best of Tony on the big stage, sweeping the A's in the '90 Series.)
Any Cubs fans care to chime in?
In other news, the Cubs hired Lou Piniella to a three-year deal. Piniella, who just got his broadcasting partner Psycho Lyons fired, had been widely rumored to be taking over for Torre in New York. The guy was a Pro with a capital P as a player, a .291 career hitter for the Royals and Yanks. And he's been a successful Major League skipper, too, boasting a .517 winning percentage and World Series title. But more importantly, he's got a good record of turning around underperforming teams. In '90 he led the Reds to the title after the year's previous team -- much the same roster -- finished 14 games under .500. That team featured a lot of younger talent: Barry Larkin, Paul O'Neill, Eric Davis, Hal Morris, Chris Sabo, Mariano Duncan, Randy Myers, Rob Dibble, Jose Rijo, and Jack Armstrong -- all between the ages of 25 and 28. And under Piniella in '90 they gelled, burying the NL West competition by 9.5 games by July 1.
In '93, Lou took over in Seattle for a team that had won just 64 games in '92. The '92 club was near the league bottom in runs scored and runs allowed, but with Lou at the helm they improved markedly and finished two games above .500. After a set-back in the strike-shortened '94 season, Piniella's '95 Mariners won the division in a tight race down the stretch with the Angels. Again, Sweet Lou was working with several key younger guys like Griffey and Tino Martinez and some 19 year-old named A-Rod. The M's went on to greater heights -- including the remarkable 116-win season in '01 -- under Piniella.
After a great stretch with the Mariners, Piniella bolted for the money in Tampa Bay following the 2002 season, and here's where his managerial career takes a turn for the worse. But it's hard to blame Lou for the Rays woes, as no one could have done significantly better with such mediocre talent in a stacked AL West division. And Lou did get the most out of his young position players, as 21 year-olds Rocco Baldelli and Carl Crawford both had outstanding campaigns in '03.
Given his track record for righting the ship, and the Cubs solid mix of veteran and youthful talent, I expect good things from Piniella's new club next season. If he still has that fire in his belly -- his tirades against umps are legendary, and he once wrestled his own reliever in the clubhouse (and who can blame him considering it was Dibble?) -- then I expect the Cubs to find new motivation next season. Of course, a lot depends on what offseason moves they make. They have serious issues to work out in their pitching staff. And at 63 years old and shortly removed from the rebuilding Rays, one has to wonder if Piniella has the patience to handle a slow, youth-oriented makeover. It will also be interesting to see how his hiring affects the Cards-Cubs rivalry. It's safe to say that Baker and La Russa weren't best buds; but La Russa and Piniella are actually good friends who have bonded over their Tampa roots. Of course, they do have some history, thanks to Tony's stint in the AL prior to coming to the Cards. I wish I had the time to look up their head-to-head stats. (Oh, fuck it, here goes ... Take it for what it's worth, but Tony's teams have gone 40-32 against Lou's teams. But Lou got the best of Tony on the big stage, sweeping the A's in the '90 Series.)
Any Cubs fans care to chime in?
10.14.2006
Cardinals win SOOOOOO satisfying
Illini Madness last night was a bit of a bore. Even Jeremy Piven couldn't raise the crowd from their feet -- at least not in the way he probably would have hoped. Piven only had the mic for a couple minutes, but in that time he managed to get the bulk of the Assembly Hall to boo him. In a bold -- but questionable -- move, Piven got political on a night in which a crowd of basketball fans just wanted to have a good time and forget about the fact that they had just lost the No. 2 recruit in the nation to Indiana. To paraphrase, he said that the kids in the building needed to stay in school so their brains could get bigger and they could overthrow the Republicans (he actually referred to the current administration and the hole they've got us in). I can't argue with the sentiment, but the timing was off and the conservative crowd let him have it. (Not sure what the UI donors who had a hand in getting him to attend thought about it...) He finished up by saying that Illinois was a blue state -- uh, Cook County is a blue county, but the rest of the state is up for grabs -- but on this night it was an orange state. That joke would have been all right on its own.
The evening on the whole only reinforced how white the crowd and school is: from the nearly all-white (one Asian) dance/cheer squads, to the pep band (please, at least bring back "Hey Ya!") to the Marching Illini drum line to the classic rock theme music that permeated the entire Madness event. Hell, even Coach Weber rode out on the court in a cop motorcycle side car sporting a leather Harley jacket (WTF?). We did get one taste of hip-hop culture, when an "up-and-coming" Chicago rapper named Renaissance performed (along with most of the Illini's black players), and the crowd responded much in the same way they did to everything else that night -- with silence.
Silence was exactly what filled up my household after the Madness ended, as M and I watched an incredibly ineffective Chris Carpenter struggle mightily against the Mets in the bottom of the first, much as he had in his last road start in the NLDS at San Diego. However, unlike he had done in the Padres start, Chris couldn't right the ship last night. He stunk, period. But luckily his teammates were not about to let him down. The Cards batters fouled off 26 two-strike pitches last night -- which culminated in spectacular at bats from Pujols in the 7th and Taguchi in the 9th -- and did almost all of their damage when their backs were against the wall. Once again, La Russa pulled the right strings, inserting Speez for Rolen, giving Carp a quick hook, and allowing the same rookies in the pen to carry the team in tight situations. After watching TLR flounder in previous postseasons (and regular seasons for that matter), I gotta give the guy credit this postseason. So far, he's managing the team like the Hall of Famer he will one day be.
I also need to revisit the Albert Pujols haiku I posted to the comments of Listmakers blog prior to the start of the series:
After last night's win, I need to write a new one for Mr. So Taguchi, the slayer of Billy Wagner:
The evening on the whole only reinforced how white the crowd and school is: from the nearly all-white (one Asian) dance/cheer squads, to the pep band (please, at least bring back "Hey Ya!") to the Marching Illini drum line to the classic rock theme music that permeated the entire Madness event. Hell, even Coach Weber rode out on the court in a cop motorcycle side car sporting a leather Harley jacket (WTF?). We did get one taste of hip-hop culture, when an "up-and-coming" Chicago rapper named Renaissance performed (along with most of the Illini's black players), and the crowd responded much in the same way they did to everything else that night -- with silence.
Silence was exactly what filled up my household after the Madness ended, as M and I watched an incredibly ineffective Chris Carpenter struggle mightily against the Mets in the bottom of the first, much as he had in his last road start in the NLDS at San Diego. However, unlike he had done in the Padres start, Chris couldn't right the ship last night. He stunk, period. But luckily his teammates were not about to let him down. The Cards batters fouled off 26 two-strike pitches last night -- which culminated in spectacular at bats from Pujols in the 7th and Taguchi in the 9th -- and did almost all of their damage when their backs were against the wall. Once again, La Russa pulled the right strings, inserting Speez for Rolen, giving Carp a quick hook, and allowing the same rookies in the pen to carry the team in tight situations. After watching TLR flounder in previous postseasons (and regular seasons for that matter), I gotta give the guy credit this postseason. So far, he's managing the team like the Hall of Famer he will one day be.
I also need to revisit the Albert Pujols haiku I posted to the comments of Listmakers blog prior to the start of the series:
Brad Lidge fears me, true
Soon, Billy Wagner will, too
Mets fans will be blue
After last night's win, I need to write a new one for Mr. So Taguchi, the slayer of Billy Wagner:
As small as a flea
But you better respect me,
Mighty Taguchi!
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