Is what the Disneyland Sports Channel is servin' up right now -- Boise State at San Jose State -- satisfying America's needs as a Fri. nite appetizer for tomorrow's college football "banquet" of "vintage" matchups? (i.e. Joe Pa goin' to C-Bus ... where he hasn't won since that trip there 30 years ago when those of us who couldn't attend that game -- because we were 16 years old and living in Cali at the time -- listened on the transistor radio while doin' lotsa yardwork ... when a freshman named Art Schlichter threw 5 INTS in the 19-0 PSU victory in what would be Woody Hayes' final season because of an INT which Schlichter threw in the Gator >>> ...) halt! arbitrary voyages down MEMORY LANE mustn't creep into the equation right now because, let's face it ... even if SJSU does win two more games to become bowl-eligible (which seems kinda pointless ever since they dumped the Silicon Valley Classic in San Jose's Spartan Stadium following that Northern Illinois-Troy blockbuster in '04), it doesn't dismiss the fact that recent Spartan QB Marcus Arroyo calls the plays for Dick Tomey or that current QB Kyle Reed doesn't remind anyone of a Steve DeBerg or an Ed Luther or a Jeff Garcia or, for that matter, a Steve Clarkson -- even though Reed is a black kid and even though he's wearing Clarkson's #7 despite probably having never paid $20,000 to be tutored by Clarkson, the QB Coaching Guru who has has mentored some of the most-marginal QBs that some people might've (or might not've) heard of.
So, yeah ... this is kind of a mindless timekiller during a World Series travel day ... although some of us who are alums appreciate the well-rounded play of DB Duke Ihenacho and his D-line brother, Carl Ihenacho.
And, for those of us Phillie phans who took three years of high-school Spanish with a classroom full of Dodger fans pre-SJSU cirriculum, we remember enough of the language to recall that "San Jose" is how Spanish-speaking folk say, "Saint Joseph."
One needn't have earned a Bachelor of Arts degree in Journalism & Mass Communications w/ a Concentration in Reporting & Editing from SJSU to realize that this World Series now boils down to what the left arm of that St. Joe's grad, Jamie Moyer, can produce in Game 3 tomorrow night at The Cit, the first ballgame in that ballpark since two Fridays ago when that little Latino center fielder ("wait ... he's Hawaiian? isn't Victorino an Italian name?") was roughing up Chad Billingsley the way that Hugh Beaumont used to slap around Barbara Billingsley on the ol' "Beaver" TV show.
Anyway, the responsibility of gettin' the Series back on track relies on Moyer's ability to minimize the damage done by Brick Myers last night.
Myers pitched just well enough to lose Game 2 (despite that unlikely homer from the guy, Eric Bruntlett, who matriculated right up the road from SJSU ... at Stanford).
Stanford ... that's where Phillies asst. GM Ruben Amaro earned his degree in biology ... not long after Clarkson outdueled John Elway, 35-31, in one of the greatest college football games of the previous century.
Elway's old man -- Fat Jack -- was the winning coach.
Something tells us that Fat Jack tossed back a few bourbons and sucked down several victory Marlboros after that triumph.
Fat Jack's with the angels now ... drinkin' their Scotch and stealin' their smokes.
What a rascal ...
Anyway, Jamie Moyer isn't familiar with what we just described because it occurred when he was acclimating himself to St. Joe's on the East Coast and not San Jose on the West Coast.
Here in the modern day, it is the job of MOYER THE DESTROYER to be more of a Moyer The Warrior than he was in Game 3 of the NLDS and Game 3 of the NLCS.
Those were important Games 3's -- and he failed to meet the challenge.
Now, Moyer's pitching in the most-significant Game 3 of his life -- a potential Series-turner -- and, based on nothing scientific or emperical in nature, it sez here: "He can do it."
It's important, though, that nobody jinx Moyer and inform him that a nifty performance tomorrow night could be provide validation in the minds of the members of the Veterans Committee when Jamie Moyer is elected to the Hall of Fame in 2073.
Even though that'll be seven years after the 2066 enshrinement of Jim Kaat, Bert Blyleven and Tommy John, all four are deserving pitchers.
Sadly, to make room in Cooperstown for this quartet, any (or all) of the following pitchers can be de-enshrined:
Eppa Rixey, Old Hoss Radbourn and Pud Galvin (which should provide some relief for the surviving members of those families who have lived with the guilt for all these years that none of 'em belong in Cooperstown).
True ... it seems like sacrilege to revoke the membership of any Phillie from Cooperstown, particularly one with the name "Eppa Rixey."
Just be thankful that it's not Bubba Church ...
Yet, once we explore "the numbers" (which is what drives the stat geeks which compose the HOF electorate), it's apparent that Jamie Moyer -- when compared, side-by-side to Eppa Rixey, is worthy of enshrinement.
Some of us have made a compelling, in-depth and rational argument previously (i.e. when comparing Gary Carter to Lance Parrish, who were basically the same player from the same era, only Parrish didn't have an AquaFresh smile ... lookit up ... they were basically the same player, goddammit! ... ) -- and intelligence and insight are on Moyer's side [which is why he'll never get to Cooperstown ... seriously, have you seen the squids who do the voting? Drunks, pedophiles, bedwetters, any ol' jack-off who's been a member of the BBWAA for 10 consecutive years (which, is to say, anyone who hasn't expelled from the BBWAA for sneaking into an alley with a 12-year-old boy for, y'know, "fun" ... THAT'S who shapes YOUR bogus Hall of Fame, not a legit Hall of Fame. FACT: For those of us who once shared a sports dept. in the same newsroom as Leonard Koppett "back in the day," we can all agree that "yes" ... his research was thorough and his findings were presented reasonably-well in print, but for a pressbox legend who used to vote for potential Hall of Famers and who, himself, gained HOF status in '93, would it have killed him to brush the solid layer of dandruff off of his shoulders? What about an Altoids (or four)? This ain't some sorta "old school" B.S. where Grantland Rice is workin' on his fifth Scotch while he's rat-a-tat-tatting on his Royal typewriter in a wooden newsroom with varnished wooden chairs, varnished wooden tables, a rotary phone and a tin cup serving as a makeshift ash tray ... this is Jamie Moyer's career on trial, godfuckingdammit. And, with all respect to Leonard Koppett, there's no way that we should allow him to be "a judge" of anything. Go ahead, Lenny ... write the gamer ... collect the quotes ... afterwards, tell your beautifully eloquent stories to colleagues and family members or, if ESPN's Sports Century needs a nugget, give it to 'em ... just don't "judge" what you don't quite understand, Dragon Breath.]
Seriously ... if Pud Galvin, the MLB's first pitcher to win 300 games, was good enough to go 46-29 in 75 starts as a 26-year-old for the 1883 Buffalo Bisons and 46-22 in 68 starts for the '84 Bisons, then what the hell was he doing when he went 23-25 for the '88 Pirates?
And, isn't 46-22 as a 27-year-old in 1884 comparable to a 45-year-old (Moyer) who goes 16-7 in 2008?
Pud Galvin can't defend himself and his "circus stats" because he died in 1902 at the same age (45) that Jamie Moyer is now while winning 16 games for these Phillies.
Typically, Pud Galvin wasn't good enough for Hall of Fame enshrinement with the inaugural class in the early 1930s -- so, America waited breathlessly until those old-school sportswriters, etc. could push their pro-Pud stance and get the dead guy elected in 1965 ... 73 years after his final game ... 63 years following his death.
Makes sense ...
We could say, "Hey, that's what Jamie Moyer has to look forward to" -- except that in 2025, 2050 and 2075, there'll be a new fat-ass Bill Conlin w/ hideous teeth wiping gravy off his shirt (if he notices) and casting a ballot.
Since we've had all day to mull it over, it is interesting to note that Moyer's first seven seasons were junk, capped by that 0-5 season in St. Loo in '91 (which caused him to spend all of '92 in the minors).
In the 16 seasons since, Moyer has been VERY repectable -- and, in a way, it mirrors the start to Eppa Rixey's career ... the eight seasons he spent as a Phillie putting up some extremely mediocre numbers during the Dead Ball Era.
During the past 12 seasons (since he turned 34), Moyer has: 6 excellent seasons, 2 very good seasons, 2 okay seasons, 2 subpar seasons.
This, we must designate as "the prime" of Moyer's career -- and, with the way he's going, the guy who wears his age and the MPH of his fastball on his back -- 50 -- might have two, possibly three, more quality seasons left in him.
By comparison, in Eppa Rixey's 13-season "best years" window (1916-1928), he had: 3 excellent seasons, 4 good seasons, 2 so-so seasons and 4 iffy seasons.
Inescapable truth:
Jamie Moyer's golden years have been better than Eppa Rixey's golden years.
Yet, what makes The MLB soooo wonderful is that we have stodgy, close-minded types such as Gammons or Bill James who'll never vote for Jamie Moyer because those guys were so shitty at baseball that they didn't get picked during pick-up games.
"Hey, super dork ... go to the FoodWay and get us some Sunny D! And ... take yer time!"
Honest to god ... y'think Gammons or James has any clue what it's like to be Jamie Moyer and to win 16 games at age 45 with the junk he throws plateward?
Every time he takes the mind, Moyer has to out-think and outwork every batter with every at-bat.
There really is no margin for error, particularly if he falls behind in the count and then has to ponder throwing that 50 MPH fastball.
If a home-plate ump gets cute and decides to squeeze him, well ...
(Note: You'd think that Gammons, who jams on his guitar w/ Bronson Arroyo would be spiritual and open-minded enough to promote Moyer on the Disneyland Baseball Channel called EspyTime, but, wait! Here's Chris Berman with back back back back ... on that TV show hosted by the milquetoast Karl Ravech and which guest stars former sex addict Steve Phillips)
(Sidebar: Sometimes it's fun to see if Phillips or Kruk are ever going to finish growing their baby goat-tees in order to catch up to the goat-tee Sharpied into full form worn by Fernando Vina ... that's seriously the only substance to that show ... )
Maybe one day Roy Firetone can host and "Up Close" chat with Rogers Hornsby, Rabbit Maranville and Zack Wheat just to see what their impressions were of Eppa Rixey, who held the record for career victories by a southpaw (266 ... Moyer has 264)) until Lefty Grove passed him in 1939 (or thereabouts).
Alas ... Rogers Hornsby, Rabbit Maranville and Zack Wheat are all dead, so, the Myth of Eppa Rixey lives on -- while most of us dispute his worthiness with every fiber in our being.
To soften our contempt while keeping in the spirit of the modern-day Phillie, it sometimes becomes necessary to take a spin around the dial to see what other people are thinking (although this totally goes against the self-imposed mission statement of "Who gives a flock what they think?").
Whispering: There's something out there called "Phillies Nation" -- which bills itself as "the most-comprehensive Philadelphia Phillies blog" -- and one of those guys which we saw on NBC Dateline's "To Catch A Predator" had some fascinating observations re: Game 2:
"For the most part, I saw guys trying to do everything with one swing. They were waving at the ball as if Tropicana Field’s fence was 10 feet away. Jayson Werth was trying to pull pitches very low and inside; Pat Burrell was trying to find low junk; Ryan Howard was guessing on the low-away stuff. Then there’s Jimmy Rollins, who just plain sucked. <><> I am confident that the Phils can change this. They have before, and they have to now. This isn’t mid-June, where they can stir around for a week and wait for the offense to return. This is late October, the final five games of the season, the biggest stage in the game. Something tells me they’ll sense the moment and attack correctly. <><> Home runs are not the necessity. Singles kill Shields more than anything, so find a hole and get at it. The homer will come naturally."
Adorable ...
Too precious ...
Some dude allowed his 12-year-old step-daughter to help him type up the Game 2 recap/Game 3 pree.
The only things missing were "let's hear a little chatter out there, okay, fellas?" -- but, then again, we don't know if Tim Malcolm prefers "ay-battuh-battuh!" or "ay-battuh-ay-battuh, swing!"
What if he's right, though?
Maybe it's NOT about reading Charley Lau's "The Art of Hitting .300" or Ted Williams' "The Science of Hitting" or, to a lesser extent, "The Mike Schmidt Study: Hitting Theory, Skills and Technique."
Seriously ... Schmidty's principles re: hitting's 'third force' ... or swing mechanics and hitting evolution ... or the 12-lesson format ... and why the hell it's so damn important to key on the weight shift system and the rotation system and how combining the power of both movements will result in increased energy, comprising a Combined Hitting System are probably NOT what Phillies' hitting instructor Milt Thompson needs to clutter the minds of the batsmen under his tutelege.
Maybe it's time for a new batter's-box paradigm.
The battle plan:
No more trying to do everything with one swing!
No more pretending that the fence is 10 feet away!
No more trying to find low junk!
This isn't mid-June!
It's time to sense the moment and attack correctly!
Find a hole and get at it!
The homers will come naturally!
Re-worded in Malcolmese, it's "we need to attack correctly ... we need to sense the moment and attack correctly ... we need to buy one of those Wii systems and hit more natural homers ... "
Again ... it is adorable (simply precious) when a guy who's never known a bat except when those kids at the playground once used an Easton to violate him purely for kicks is offering batting tips.
It's reminiscent of when we saw that movie wherein baseball flunkie Gil Renard gave to his son, Richie, some interesting advice for Little League.
"Jason Pelligrini's dad takes it up the ass!" ////
Look ... nobody's sayin' that Kruk (as SF Giants star, #46 Rick Lanz) out-acted De Niro in that movie, but, we should note that the modern-day #50 for the Phils finds himself in a position not unlike yesterday's #50 for the Phils.
You remember: When rookie Marty Bystrom was asked to hold the hot-hittin' Royals in check in Game 5 (at K.C.) in the '80 World Series.
For the most part, Bystrom did just that in a game we'll never forget.
Moyer probably remembers it, too. It happened when he was a teenaged Phillies phan ... two months after Brick Myers was born, two months before Joe Blanton was born ...
Very cosmic.
Of course, if "the cosmos" is brought into play, Game 3 is dangerous ground for the Fightin's. The Phillies have never won a Game 3 (or a Game 4) in their rich (but limited) World Series legacy.
0-2 in Games 3 and 4 vs. Boston in 1915 ... 0-2 in Games 3 and 4 vs. the Yankees in 1950 ... 0-2 in Games 3 and 4 vs. K.C. during that eventual Series triumph in 1980 ... 0-2 in Games 3 and 4 vs. the Orioles in 1983 ... and 0-2 in Games 3 and 4 vs. the Jays in 1993 ...
An 0-10 record in Games 3 and 4 has most of us dismissing Malcolmism and instead opting for what McMurphy did when the World Series didn't go his way -- which is to say, broadcasting the imaginary game for his buddies as they watched the turned-off TV.
"Koufax is in big, fuckin' trouble! Big trouble, baby!"
That'll break the spell a lot quicker than "attacking correctly" ...
b
Friday, October 24, 2008
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Colbert vs. Cowbell (A Ray-ality Check)
What's better than watchin' the Fightin' Phils play a World Series game on your 10th wedding anniversary?
Answer: Watchin' Cole Hamels givin' the Phils a 1-games-to-none lead in the series and then pondering how many other marriages resemble Tampa Bay hitters vs. Hamels.
Impatient ...
Off-balance ...
Destined to fail ...
It's a fascinating exercise ...
Time changes everybody to some extent -- but, it's pretty cool when the gal who was ridin' shotgun with you for the '93 Series (when she seemed more like a sidekick than "a girlfriend") hasn't changed all THAT much since the days when Fregosi's battle plan was a LF righty/lefty platoon of Inky & Milt and a RF righty/lefty platoon of Wes & Eisey.
What a fascinating dichotomy of ))) wait, what does "dichotomy" mean, again? (((
It's a source of amusement to remind people of the landmarks from that sacred wedding season of 10 years ago ... the monumental day after the Yankees concluded a 125-50 season with a 4-game World Series sweep of the Padres (a World Series which nobody remembers) ... in the same month that Jason Priestley left "90210" (a show which we never watched) ... in the same month that "Bride of Chucky" was released in theaters nationwide (a movie which we never saw) ... and scarcely more than a week before the state of Minnesota elected as its governor a guy named Jim Janos (who probably would've been a better legislator if he hadn't been hit across the back with a folding chair when everybody knew him everybody knew as "Jesse Ventura").
The math is simple: When the planets align in such a manner, a guy has to pull the trigger.
Figuratively, of course (for it was in the same courthouse parking lot after our justice-o-the-peace wedding where Wing Wu and her mom, So Shan Chan, were gunned down by the ex-husband/stepfather once the divorce was finalized).
The Mrs. feels reassured when she's told, "You n' me ... we're not gonna end up like Wing Wu and So Shan Chan." (Of course, it doesn't make sense ... yet, sometimes ya gotta put the "ass" in "assurance.")
And, in the "ours-is-not-the-victory-of-might-but-the-vindication-of-right" paradigm, well ... there were always marriages which looked better "on paper" -- but, inevitably, the only papers which matter now feature three prominent words:
"Dissolution of marriage ..."
That's bound to happen when you're spendin' your 10th wedding anniversary gettin' a hummer from a hooker instead of havin' a wife who hummers LIKE a hooker.
That's why this lucky spouse of a Phillie Phan discovered that her hubby was on-line the other day exploring which new Phillie cap would cover her bald melon during these milestone moments (imagine that: a Phillies World Series during National Breast Cancer Awareness Month ... sensory overload!).
With the technological and artistic advances in scarfs and bandanas industry, it remains essential that the ballcap industry keep pace -- and, lookee here, honey-bun!
Lids.com has not only the traditional red Phillie cap w/ the 2008 World Series logo stitched on the left side, but, apparently, there's a model with a purple shell, sky blue brim/bill and a yellow P, not to mention a version which has a lime shell, purple brim/bill and dark green P.
(What if she crossed up everybody and went with the MLB Chocolate Funk: brown shell, pastel circles on the bill/brim and an electric-pink P outlined in electric blue?)
Headware and silly bonnets aside, it is ironic how all that "new ballcap" chatter goes flyin' out the window when Chase Utley sends a deep drive which is flyin' not into the shark tank in RCF but over the wall, nevertheless, in straightaway RF.
Straightaway, Devil Ray!
Kinda makes ya glad that you still have the 7-1/2-size red Phils cap w/ the gray underbill instead of the new 59Fifty, 7-5/8 Phils cap (all red w/ white P or blue w/ red P and red bill) and (gulp) ... the black underbrim.
Some of us have always adhered to an anti-black underbill/underbrim policy -- therefore, we understand why many of the bruthas rebel against The Man by wearin' their 59Fiftys w/ the decals/stickers remaining on outerbill/outerbrim (gangstah tilting and tag-anchored-to-venthole optional, fo shizzle, ma-nizzle ... ).
Ballcap hijinks aside, the Phils hangin' onto a portion of that early 3-0 lead is the bottom line.
As one would expect, Joe Buck's game-summary moments before his sign-off was some blah-blah-blah rhetoric about "the story of the game was the Phils going ohh-for-13 with runners in scoring position ..." blah-blah-blah, time to wake up McCarver, blah blah blah ...
The Disneyland Baseball Channel wasn't much better -- Big Blather Berman was shipped in for "the event" so that he could provide crucial back-back-back-back-back-back ...
When it came time to provide a recap, EspyTime turned it into another adventure of mixing cliches w/ equations in quantum physics instead of ever providing a single highlight of the Phillies' third run.
Would it have killed 'em to furnish the less-than-60-seconds worth of footage to give us a quickie breakdown of the top of the 4th?
Victorino with a leadoff single ... Feliz with a single ... Coste w/ the grounder which advances the runners ... Ruiz with the grounder which scores Victorino for a 3-0 lead ...
Whereas Ruiz's RBI g.o. might never be ranked with the bottom-of-the-9th, walk-off sac fly which ex-Phillie pharmhand Jerry Willard ("5-for-1") hit off of ex-Phillie Steve Bedrosian ("Bedrock") to tie the '91 World Series at two games apiece or the 2-run sac fly which then-phuture-Phillie Tommy Herr hit in the top of the second inning in Milwaukee's County Stadium in Game 4 of the '82 Series (Herr was batting leadoff ... two-time batting champion Willie McGee was batting 8th and Hall of Fame Ozzie Smith, who scampered home from second base on the play, was batting 9th ... and when the frick is Whitey Herzog gonna get inducted in Cooperstown?), however ... WAIT, WHERE WERE WE?
Oh, right right right ... we were discussing why ESPN hates catchers from Panama (or, at least, catchers from Panama named "Carlos Ruiz" ... for all we know, this anti-Panamanian/anti-catcher culture began back in the '70s when Manny Sanguillen became the first Panamanian catcher and then he probably pissed off all of the traditionalists with the way he'd hack at any pitch ... seriously, Sanguillen swung at anything, he never drew a walk, but, he also never struck out, either as his average hovered around .300 and *** WAIT, WHERE WERE WE?
Exactly ... ESPN has demonstrated repeatedly that it is less-meaningful to offer images which Americans may process in order to form their own opinions than it is to suck all the life out of a moment by allowing semi-goateed faces on a big, fat heads tellin' us why we should feel a certain way (which would be OK, in itself, if we needed Krukker to tell us why we need six more ladlefuls of gravy on that meat or if we needed Steve Phillips to walk us through his sex addiction ... ).
Either way, it's not as bad as the frosty manner in which ESPN treats our valuable catcher imports from Panama ...
b
Answer: Watchin' Cole Hamels givin' the Phils a 1-games-to-none lead in the series and then pondering how many other marriages resemble Tampa Bay hitters vs. Hamels.
Impatient ...
Off-balance ...
Destined to fail ...
It's a fascinating exercise ...
Time changes everybody to some extent -- but, it's pretty cool when the gal who was ridin' shotgun with you for the '93 Series (when she seemed more like a sidekick than "a girlfriend") hasn't changed all THAT much since the days when Fregosi's battle plan was a LF righty/lefty platoon of Inky & Milt and a RF righty/lefty platoon of Wes & Eisey.
What a fascinating dichotomy of ))) wait, what does "dichotomy" mean, again? (((
It's a source of amusement to remind people of the landmarks from that sacred wedding season of 10 years ago ... the monumental day after the Yankees concluded a 125-50 season with a 4-game World Series sweep of the Padres (a World Series which nobody remembers) ... in the same month that Jason Priestley left "90210" (a show which we never watched) ... in the same month that "Bride of Chucky" was released in theaters nationwide (a movie which we never saw) ... and scarcely more than a week before the state of Minnesota elected as its governor a guy named Jim Janos (who probably would've been a better legislator if he hadn't been hit across the back with a folding chair when everybody knew him everybody knew as "Jesse Ventura").
The math is simple: When the planets align in such a manner, a guy has to pull the trigger.
Figuratively, of course (for it was in the same courthouse parking lot after our justice-o-the-peace wedding where Wing Wu and her mom, So Shan Chan, were gunned down by the ex-husband/stepfather once the divorce was finalized).
The Mrs. feels reassured when she's told, "You n' me ... we're not gonna end up like Wing Wu and So Shan Chan." (Of course, it doesn't make sense ... yet, sometimes ya gotta put the "ass" in "assurance.")
And, in the "ours-is-not-the-victory-of-might-but-the-vindication-of-right" paradigm, well ... there were always marriages which looked better "on paper" -- but, inevitably, the only papers which matter now feature three prominent words:
"Dissolution of marriage ..."
That's bound to happen when you're spendin' your 10th wedding anniversary gettin' a hummer from a hooker instead of havin' a wife who hummers LIKE a hooker.
That's why this lucky spouse of a Phillie Phan discovered that her hubby was on-line the other day exploring which new Phillie cap would cover her bald melon during these milestone moments (imagine that: a Phillies World Series during National Breast Cancer Awareness Month ... sensory overload!).
With the technological and artistic advances in scarfs and bandanas industry, it remains essential that the ballcap industry keep pace -- and, lookee here, honey-bun!
Lids.com has not only the traditional red Phillie cap w/ the 2008 World Series logo stitched on the left side, but, apparently, there's a model with a purple shell, sky blue brim/bill and a yellow P, not to mention a version which has a lime shell, purple brim/bill and dark green P.
(What if she crossed up everybody and went with the MLB Chocolate Funk: brown shell, pastel circles on the bill/brim and an electric-pink P outlined in electric blue?)
Headware and silly bonnets aside, it is ironic how all that "new ballcap" chatter goes flyin' out the window when Chase Utley sends a deep drive which is flyin' not into the shark tank in RCF but over the wall, nevertheless, in straightaway RF.
Straightaway, Devil Ray!
Kinda makes ya glad that you still have the 7-1/2-size red Phils cap w/ the gray underbill instead of the new 59Fifty, 7-5/8 Phils cap (all red w/ white P or blue w/ red P and red bill) and (gulp) ... the black underbrim.
Some of us have always adhered to an anti-black underbill/underbrim policy -- therefore, we understand why many of the bruthas rebel against The Man by wearin' their 59Fiftys w/ the decals/stickers remaining on outerbill/outerbrim (gangstah tilting and tag-anchored-to-venthole optional, fo shizzle, ma-nizzle ... ).
Ballcap hijinks aside, the Phils hangin' onto a portion of that early 3-0 lead is the bottom line.
As one would expect, Joe Buck's game-summary moments before his sign-off was some blah-blah-blah rhetoric about "the story of the game was the Phils going ohh-for-13 with runners in scoring position ..." blah-blah-blah, time to wake up McCarver, blah blah blah ...
The Disneyland Baseball Channel wasn't much better -- Big Blather Berman was shipped in for "the event" so that he could provide crucial back-back-back-back-back-back ...
When it came time to provide a recap, EspyTime turned it into another adventure of mixing cliches w/ equations in quantum physics instead of ever providing a single highlight of the Phillies' third run.
Would it have killed 'em to furnish the less-than-60-seconds worth of footage to give us a quickie breakdown of the top of the 4th?
Victorino with a leadoff single ... Feliz with a single ... Coste w/ the grounder which advances the runners ... Ruiz with the grounder which scores Victorino for a 3-0 lead ...
Whereas Ruiz's RBI g.o. might never be ranked with the bottom-of-the-9th, walk-off sac fly which ex-Phillie pharmhand Jerry Willard ("5-for-1") hit off of ex-Phillie Steve Bedrosian ("Bedrock") to tie the '91 World Series at two games apiece or the 2-run sac fly which then-phuture-Phillie Tommy Herr hit in the top of the second inning in Milwaukee's County Stadium in Game 4 of the '82 Series (Herr was batting leadoff ... two-time batting champion Willie McGee was batting 8th and Hall of Fame Ozzie Smith, who scampered home from second base on the play, was batting 9th ... and when the frick is Whitey Herzog gonna get inducted in Cooperstown?), however ... WAIT, WHERE WERE WE?
Oh, right right right ... we were discussing why ESPN hates catchers from Panama (or, at least, catchers from Panama named "Carlos Ruiz" ... for all we know, this anti-Panamanian/anti-catcher culture began back in the '70s when Manny Sanguillen became the first Panamanian catcher and then he probably pissed off all of the traditionalists with the way he'd hack at any pitch ... seriously, Sanguillen swung at anything, he never drew a walk, but, he also never struck out, either as his average hovered around .300 and *** WAIT, WHERE WERE WE?
Exactly ... ESPN has demonstrated repeatedly that it is less-meaningful to offer images which Americans may process in order to form their own opinions than it is to suck all the life out of a moment by allowing semi-goateed faces on a big, fat heads tellin' us why we should feel a certain way (which would be OK, in itself, if we needed Krukker to tell us why we need six more ladlefuls of gravy on that meat or if we needed Steve Phillips to walk us through his sex addiction ... ).
It is etched in stone: Baseknocks from the No. 6 and No. 7 hitters followed by two groundouts offer little sex appeal, so here's Peter Gammons w/ Cole Hamels, askin' him how he feels.
"Did you find Chase Utley's home run important and/or necessary?"
It's silly shit, that's what it is -- albeit not as silly as Ryan Howard, in his final AB of the night, swinging and missing at a pitch which bounced off the plate.
At no point was that pitch within two zip codes of home plate, but the big Philly Sixer gave us a 5-dollar, foot-long swing, anyway.
NOTE: In that instance, a better swing might've been provided by B.J. Novak ... the guy who America knows as "Ryan Howard" on "The Office."
No worries, though ... Ryan'll get 'em next time.
That's the large, black Ryan Howard ...
Not the skinny, white Ryan Howard played by B.J. Novak ...
Got that?
True dat ... the Phillies squandered a bunch of opportunities tonight, yet, there's no cause for alarm when you've got Cole Hamels and a full pack of Camels (remember: we reserve our Camels for Hamels ... Marlboros for Myers ... Merit when it's Moyer ... Kent for Kendrick ... crack when it's Eaton ... and, if Joltin' Joe Blanton is on the bump, naturally, it's Smokin Joes -- manufactured by the Tuscarora Indian Nation of Western N.Y. and, you'll be goddammed if ya don't admit that it's a smooth-not-harsh cigarette which belies the retail price of $15/carton).
Cancer sticks notwithstanding, Colbert Hamels made us proud when he "worked" Malcolm Emanuel Upton, inducing that 6-4-3 DP w/ the sacks juiced in the 3rd before coaxing Upton (9 HRs in 531 regular-season ABs; 7 HRs in 46 postseason ABs) into fouling out feebly to end the 5th (after that dude, Iwo Jima, doubled home the run to make it 3-2).
THAT was the story of the game, Numbnuts (oh, that and Ryan Madson striking out Upton to end the 8th ... before Lights Out Lidge punched out Pena and Longoria to open the 9th).
To repeat: The Phillies stranded some baserunners, but so frickin' what.
Either way, it's not as bad as the frosty manner in which ESPN treats our valuable catcher imports from Panama ...
b
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Phorget Phenway or Phrancona 4 Phillies
No phrickin' way ... Phrancona phailed (?) to bring a Phall Classic to Phenway ... and there'll be no Game 3 homecoming in Philly?
Everything was all lined up for a Game 1 ceremonial first pitch at the Fens wherein Heathcliff Slocumb would've performed the honors to a standing ovation as players for both teams -- with tears in their eyes -- cheered his two greatest career accomplishments:
1) Earning the win as a Phillie in the '95 All-Star Game ...
2) Serving as trade bait as a Red Sox reliever in '97 when Boston acquired Jason Varitek and Derek Lowe ...
However, we have a startling paradigm shift now that the Schwinn Stingrays have qualified for the United States Championships of the Major Leagues of Pro Baseball (remember: It was a "world series" during the World Baseball Classic in '06 and it will be a "world series" again next spring during WBC 2.
Not that these developments faze the Fightin's.
Tampa Bay's berth opposite the Phillies in this U.S. Championship Final merely means that the ceremonial first pitch guest list requires only a minor tweaking.
Brace yourself, America ... tossin' out the ceremonial first pitch for the 2008 MLB Finals will be the only logical choice:
KEVIN STOCKER!
It's as logical as logical gets -- after all, K-Stock was an original Devil Ray for that inaugural '98 season (after the Phillies traded him to T.B. following the '97 season to acquire a then-little-known outfielder named Bobby Abreu) -- and K-Stock was the player who helped the Phillies to their most-recent MLB Finals (in '93) when, after the Phillies burned through four or so shortstops (or didja forget Joe Millette and Opening Day SS Juan Bell?), they called up the baby-faced kid (who was batting .233 at Scranton/Wilkes-Barre) and watched him post a nifty .324 average with the big ballclub while performing slick manuevers afield.
Although it is with some sadness that we report that K-Stock is only #3 on our all-time Favorite #19 Phillies depth chart -- behind the Bull and Dobbs -- we can all take heart that, in K-Stock, America has itself a likable Ceremonial First Pitch Tosser-Outter.
Unless, of course, a less-qualified douchebag is allowed to make that ceremonial first pitch (y'know ... such as the lovable egghead named Dickie V or the lovable gerbil named Don Zimmer, who walked on the Colorado Rockies, mid-game, a bunch of years ago because he was sick of baseball, but, wait ... here in the classified ads, it sez that the Yankees are having open tryouts for a bench coach to fall asleep next to Joe Torre, hmmmmm ... ).
Either way, whooda thunk the Schwinn Stingrays had it in 'em after blowing that 7-0 lead the other night and then lookin' mighty helpless last night vs. Beckett?
The Stingrays' victory in Game 7 means that Phillie Phan will not reunite with his/her faves from yesteryear at The Vet (i.e. Francona, J.D. Drew and Schill).
In that sense, America loses something special.
While Phils-n'-Rays is "allegedly" not on par with a sexy, made-for-TV matchup of Manny vs. Beantown, all we can do is wonder how much venom Phillie Phan had built up for Francona if he had returned to the scene of his 68-94 disaster of his rookie season in '97 (a team which went 8-38 during a 2-month stretch and was on pace to finish 45-117 until the fellas got serious and went 43-30 to end the season) and that 65-97 mess of '00 which got him (justifiably) canned.
Jimmy Rollins' first 14 games of big-league action occurred w/ that '00 team ... just as Pat Burrell was with the big club for the entire season, gettin' his feet wet as a rookie first baseman wearin' #33 because Ronnie Gant was wearin' #5 while patrolling LF and putting up a magnificent stat-combo package (20 HRs, 38 RBI) before he was dealt to Anaheim before season's end.
20 homers ... 38 ribbies ... that almost ranks up there with Rob Deer's second monster year in Detroit (in '92 ... 32 HRs, 64 RBI following his first monster year in Detroit --> 25/64 and .179 avg. in 448 ABs w/ 175 SO ... un-frickin'-believable ... you coulda bounced a pitch three feet in front of the plate and, chances were, Rob Deer woulda swung at << WHOA! >> ... let's stay on point as per disparaging remarks re: Tito Francona's kid.
And about J.D. Drew, who won't be coming to Philly to stand in RF amid a chrous of "DARE-rulllll! DARE-rulllll!" (Wait ... that doesn't make sense -- but, this does --> ) Phillie Phan realizes that it's just as well that Drew ain't comin' home ... because a double-A battery thrown at the right fielder from Section 304 of a 44,000-seat ballpark isn't the same as chucking one from the 600 level of the 63,000-seat Vet.
Same deal with setting a trash can on fire and tossing it from the first row of the top deck.
It's not worth wasting negative energy on J.D. Drew, not after what he did last time we saw him (in mid-June) when his 3-run homer in the first inning against Kyle Kendrick highlighted a 4-for-5 day for the guy who was slightly-belatedly (by two weeks) celebrating the 10-year anniversary of the day that the Phillies made him the overall No. 1 pick in the draft.
Funny thing is: Three weeks after the Phils' front office wasted that No. 1 pick on J.D. Drew (the centerpiece of a team which seemed destined to win world championships in 2000, 2003 and 2006), the Phillies welcomed to the Vet for the very first time the expansion Tampa Bay Devil Rays (and shortstop Kevin Stocker) for a weekend series.
The Saturday game of that 3-game set, as we all recall, was anointed "Darren Daulton Night" -- a special occasion for Phillie phans to pay tribute to the player whose career spanned 18 pro seasons from the day he was drafted in the 25th round in 1980 to the day he was dealt to the Florida Martians in '97 ... the hero who batted .245 in his 13-1/2 seasons w/ the big ballclub ... the gamer, who, somewhere in between Knee Surgery #4 and Knee Surgery #5 (or was it between #6 and #7), allowed his skull to violently kiss the dashboard as an inebriated Lenny Dykstra steered the vehicle into a tree while driving home from Krukker's bachelor party.
"Dutch" was the stalwart who batted .389 with 2 doubles and a homer in a World Series triumph which wasn't Philadelphia's World Series triumph, yet, with each swing of the bat, Phillie Phan knew that Dutch was saying, "Thank you, Philadelphia! (For setting me free ... )"
It reminded us of the way we felt one year earlier when we saw Mariano Duncan and Charlie Hayes helping the Yankees win a world title, but Philly didn't throw a parade for them -- just as the city didn't close the schools and shut down local businesses two years ago so that there'd be a "Scott Rolen Day" which people would never forget.
That's the thing: You can't have a "Scott Rolen Day" for a guy who plays his tail off and provides tangible production for some shitty teams once Larry Bowa calls that guy "a red ass" and once Dallas Green offers less-than-flattering commentary on that guy perhaps before Greenie has finished his fifth Scotch-rocks in the past hour.
And Phillie Phan cannot uphold the motto of "City of Brotherly Loathe" if he/she is doing the responsible thing in '98 (such as justifiably stuffing the ballot box to get Rolen on the N.L. All-Star team) instead of the irresponsible thing (showing up 44,000 strong for a "ceremonial night" to honor its .245 career hitter).
None of us who were there will ever forget "Darren Daulton Night" -- especially the magical moments when Desi Relaford went 3 for 3 ... or when there was that special moment of silence when Paul Sorrento sent Schilling home a loser with that pinch-hit, opposite-field grand slam (that's a "grand slam home run" for you Scott Rolen boobirds).
Lost in the shuffle of the bitter and the bittersweet was the fact that in the first-ever Phillies/Devil Rays game -- the night before "Darren Daulton Night," Tyler Green blanked the D-Rays on 3 hits in 7 IP to raise his record to 6-4 ... slowly-but-surely(?) making his comeback from the injuries which had caused the 1995 All-Star to finish that all-star season with an 0-5 record and then to miss the entire '96 season.
The story didn't end well for Tyler Green -- for June 26, 1998 marked the final W in his star-crossed career.
Tyler Green, not Tommy Greene, made 11 more starts for the Francona Phillies of '98 and went 0-8/5.45, though, after 30 days on the DL, he was masterful in limiting the Giants to one hit and no runs in six [[[ hey! ]]] How did Darren Daulton Night de-evolve into "Our Most-Heartfelt Tribute To Tyler Green"?
Some of us who attended DARREN DAULTON NIGHT AT THE VET (purely by accident ... the Mrs. had tickets well beforehand) have probably ranked Bubba, despite the abundance of grit and charisma, only #3 at catcher in our all-time Phillies all-time roster (behind Boonie and Lieby).
Don't look now, but if Carlos Ruiz has one or two more quality seasons in the red pinstripes, yup ... Dutch'll slip to #4.
Of course, none of this has anything at all to do w/ this modern-day World Series ... and the only "Ray" that most of us can name from the Phillies encyclopedia in our brains is Ray Culp, the Phillie rookie pitcher from '63 who made the All-Star team (14-11/2.97) that year and then, as a 21-year-old, came into that game protecting a 4-3 N.L. lead.
Lo and behold, Ray Culp's one inning of work began with Al Kaline hitting a comebacker and ended with Carl Yastrzemski hitting a foul popup.
So, why no "Ray Culp Night" at the ol' ballyard?
We'll have to ponder that after we figure out how/why the Phillies are 5-10 all-time vs. Tampa Bay (and that's only the baseball side, which doesn't include the Eagles-Buccaneers NFC championship game from whenever nor the Flyers-Lightning NHL conference finals from whenever else).
ESPN's Basebore Tonight show has punched up that stat ... mighty silly when ya get right down to it.
It's a lot like that AP story from the other night which began with: "The losingest team in pro sports history was soaked in champagne and whooping it up Wednesday night ..."
Such unkindly-worded prose -- "the losingest team in pro sports" -- is apt to make a Phillie Phan get a mite defensive and pointedly ask, "What the (flock) is THAT supposed to mean?"
Unless he/she barks, "Don't blame me. Blame frickin' Scott Rolen!"
Sure ... we all remember the hype of the 10,000th loss in franchise history last year ... but, that's all in the rear-view mirror now.
The 43-111 season of 1941 and the 42-109 season of 1942 were not the fault of Chase Utley.
We need to blame Danny Maurtaugh (yup ... THAT Danny Murtaugh), Pinky May (Milt's dad) and something known as WWII (which doesn't stand for World Wrestling whatever ...).
Last Weds. nite's NL-pennant-clinching win was the franchise's 8,882nd victory, which, in fact, ranks them among the Top 20 all-time winningest teams in pro sports history.
So, to answer the question: "No" ... we'll never vote for Travis Lee (Phillie for 2.5 seasons, '00-'02 ... Devil Ray in '03, '05, '06 -- except for that one week he spent w/ the Yankees in '04) to conduct that ceremonial first pitch ...
Tragic Lee got squeezed by the numbers game -- because he's only #4 on the depth chart of all-time fave Phillie #16s (behind J.C. Romero, Tony Longmire and -- gulp! -- Luis Aguayo).
Sorry, Travis-Tee ...
b
Everything was all lined up for a Game 1 ceremonial first pitch at the Fens wherein Heathcliff Slocumb would've performed the honors to a standing ovation as players for both teams -- with tears in their eyes -- cheered his two greatest career accomplishments:
1) Earning the win as a Phillie in the '95 All-Star Game ...
2) Serving as trade bait as a Red Sox reliever in '97 when Boston acquired Jason Varitek and Derek Lowe ...
However, we have a startling paradigm shift now that the Schwinn Stingrays have qualified for the United States Championships of the Major Leagues of Pro Baseball (remember: It was a "world series" during the World Baseball Classic in '06 and it will be a "world series" again next spring during WBC 2.
Not that these developments faze the Fightin's.
Tampa Bay's berth opposite the Phillies in this U.S. Championship Final merely means that the ceremonial first pitch guest list requires only a minor tweaking.
Brace yourself, America ... tossin' out the ceremonial first pitch for the 2008 MLB Finals will be the only logical choice:
KEVIN STOCKER!
It's as logical as logical gets -- after all, K-Stock was an original Devil Ray for that inaugural '98 season (after the Phillies traded him to T.B. following the '97 season to acquire a then-little-known outfielder named Bobby Abreu) -- and K-Stock was the player who helped the Phillies to their most-recent MLB Finals (in '93) when, after the Phillies burned through four or so shortstops (or didja forget Joe Millette and Opening Day SS Juan Bell?), they called up the baby-faced kid (who was batting .233 at Scranton/Wilkes-Barre) and watched him post a nifty .324 average with the big ballclub while performing slick manuevers afield.
Although it is with some sadness that we report that K-Stock is only #3 on our all-time Favorite #19 Phillies depth chart -- behind the Bull and Dobbs -- we can all take heart that, in K-Stock, America has itself a likable Ceremonial First Pitch Tosser-Outter.
Unless, of course, a less-qualified douchebag is allowed to make that ceremonial first pitch (y'know ... such as the lovable egghead named Dickie V or the lovable gerbil named Don Zimmer, who walked on the Colorado Rockies, mid-game, a bunch of years ago because he was sick of baseball, but, wait ... here in the classified ads, it sez that the Yankees are having open tryouts for a bench coach to fall asleep next to Joe Torre, hmmmmm ... ).
Either way, whooda thunk the Schwinn Stingrays had it in 'em after blowing that 7-0 lead the other night and then lookin' mighty helpless last night vs. Beckett?
The Stingrays' victory in Game 7 means that Phillie Phan will not reunite with his/her faves from yesteryear at The Vet (i.e. Francona, J.D. Drew and Schill).
In that sense, America loses something special.
While Phils-n'-Rays is "allegedly" not on par with a sexy, made-for-TV matchup of Manny vs. Beantown, all we can do is wonder how much venom Phillie Phan had built up for Francona if he had returned to the scene of his 68-94 disaster of his rookie season in '97 (a team which went 8-38 during a 2-month stretch and was on pace to finish 45-117 until the fellas got serious and went 43-30 to end the season) and that 65-97 mess of '00 which got him (justifiably) canned.
Jimmy Rollins' first 14 games of big-league action occurred w/ that '00 team ... just as Pat Burrell was with the big club for the entire season, gettin' his feet wet as a rookie first baseman wearin' #33 because Ronnie Gant was wearin' #5 while patrolling LF and putting up a magnificent stat-combo package (20 HRs, 38 RBI) before he was dealt to Anaheim before season's end.
20 homers ... 38 ribbies ... that almost ranks up there with Rob Deer's second monster year in Detroit (in '92 ... 32 HRs, 64 RBI following his first monster year in Detroit --> 25/64 and .179 avg. in 448 ABs w/ 175 SO ... un-frickin'-believable ... you coulda bounced a pitch three feet in front of the plate and, chances were, Rob Deer woulda swung at << WHOA! >> ... let's stay on point as per disparaging remarks re: Tito Francona's kid.
And about J.D. Drew, who won't be coming to Philly to stand in RF amid a chrous of "DARE-rulllll! DARE-rulllll!" (Wait ... that doesn't make sense -- but, this does --> ) Phillie Phan realizes that it's just as well that Drew ain't comin' home ... because a double-A battery thrown at the right fielder from Section 304 of a 44,000-seat ballpark isn't the same as chucking one from the 600 level of the 63,000-seat Vet.
Same deal with setting a trash can on fire and tossing it from the first row of the top deck.
It's not worth wasting negative energy on J.D. Drew, not after what he did last time we saw him (in mid-June) when his 3-run homer in the first inning against Kyle Kendrick highlighted a 4-for-5 day for the guy who was slightly-belatedly (by two weeks) celebrating the 10-year anniversary of the day that the Phillies made him the overall No. 1 pick in the draft.
Funny thing is: Three weeks after the Phils' front office wasted that No. 1 pick on J.D. Drew (the centerpiece of a team which seemed destined to win world championships in 2000, 2003 and 2006), the Phillies welcomed to the Vet for the very first time the expansion Tampa Bay Devil Rays (and shortstop Kevin Stocker) for a weekend series.
The Saturday game of that 3-game set, as we all recall, was anointed "Darren Daulton Night" -- a special occasion for Phillie phans to pay tribute to the player whose career spanned 18 pro seasons from the day he was drafted in the 25th round in 1980 to the day he was dealt to the Florida Martians in '97 ... the hero who batted .245 in his 13-1/2 seasons w/ the big ballclub ... the gamer, who, somewhere in between Knee Surgery #4 and Knee Surgery #5 (or was it between #6 and #7), allowed his skull to violently kiss the dashboard as an inebriated Lenny Dykstra steered the vehicle into a tree while driving home from Krukker's bachelor party.
"Dutch" was the stalwart who batted .389 with 2 doubles and a homer in a World Series triumph which wasn't Philadelphia's World Series triumph, yet, with each swing of the bat, Phillie Phan knew that Dutch was saying, "Thank you, Philadelphia! (For setting me free ... )"
It reminded us of the way we felt one year earlier when we saw Mariano Duncan and Charlie Hayes helping the Yankees win a world title, but Philly didn't throw a parade for them -- just as the city didn't close the schools and shut down local businesses two years ago so that there'd be a "Scott Rolen Day" which people would never forget.
That's the thing: You can't have a "Scott Rolen Day" for a guy who plays his tail off and provides tangible production for some shitty teams once Larry Bowa calls that guy "a red ass" and once Dallas Green offers less-than-flattering commentary on that guy perhaps before Greenie has finished his fifth Scotch-rocks in the past hour.
And Phillie Phan cannot uphold the motto of "City of Brotherly Loathe" if he/she is doing the responsible thing in '98 (such as justifiably stuffing the ballot box to get Rolen on the N.L. All-Star team) instead of the irresponsible thing (showing up 44,000 strong for a "ceremonial night" to honor its .245 career hitter).
None of us who were there will ever forget "Darren Daulton Night" -- especially the magical moments when Desi Relaford went 3 for 3 ... or when there was that special moment of silence when Paul Sorrento sent Schilling home a loser with that pinch-hit, opposite-field grand slam (that's a "grand slam home run" for you Scott Rolen boobirds).
Lost in the shuffle of the bitter and the bittersweet was the fact that in the first-ever Phillies/Devil Rays game -- the night before "Darren Daulton Night," Tyler Green blanked the D-Rays on 3 hits in 7 IP to raise his record to 6-4 ... slowly-but-surely(?) making his comeback from the injuries which had caused the 1995 All-Star to finish that all-star season with an 0-5 record and then to miss the entire '96 season.
The story didn't end well for Tyler Green -- for June 26, 1998 marked the final W in his star-crossed career.
Tyler Green, not Tommy Greene, made 11 more starts for the Francona Phillies of '98 and went 0-8/5.45, though, after 30 days on the DL, he was masterful in limiting the Giants to one hit and no runs in six [[[ hey! ]]] How did Darren Daulton Night de-evolve into "Our Most-Heartfelt Tribute To Tyler Green"?
Some of us who attended DARREN DAULTON NIGHT AT THE VET (purely by accident ... the Mrs. had tickets well beforehand) have probably ranked Bubba, despite the abundance of grit and charisma, only #3 at catcher in our all-time Phillies all-time roster (behind Boonie and Lieby).
Don't look now, but if Carlos Ruiz has one or two more quality seasons in the red pinstripes, yup ... Dutch'll slip to #4.
Of course, none of this has anything at all to do w/ this modern-day World Series ... and the only "Ray" that most of us can name from the Phillies encyclopedia in our brains is Ray Culp, the Phillie rookie pitcher from '63 who made the All-Star team (14-11/2.97) that year and then, as a 21-year-old, came into that game protecting a 4-3 N.L. lead.
Lo and behold, Ray Culp's one inning of work began with Al Kaline hitting a comebacker and ended with Carl Yastrzemski hitting a foul popup.
So, why no "Ray Culp Night" at the ol' ballyard?
We'll have to ponder that after we figure out how/why the Phillies are 5-10 all-time vs. Tampa Bay (and that's only the baseball side, which doesn't include the Eagles-Buccaneers NFC championship game from whenever nor the Flyers-Lightning NHL conference finals from whenever else).
ESPN's Basebore Tonight show has punched up that stat ... mighty silly when ya get right down to it.
It's a lot like that AP story from the other night which began with: "The losingest team in pro sports history was soaked in champagne and whooping it up Wednesday night ..."
Such unkindly-worded prose -- "the losingest team in pro sports" -- is apt to make a Phillie Phan get a mite defensive and pointedly ask, "What the (flock) is THAT supposed to mean?"
Unless he/she barks, "Don't blame me. Blame frickin' Scott Rolen!"
Sure ... we all remember the hype of the 10,000th loss in franchise history last year ... but, that's all in the rear-view mirror now.
The 43-111 season of 1941 and the 42-109 season of 1942 were not the fault of Chase Utley.
We need to blame Danny Maurtaugh (yup ... THAT Danny Murtaugh), Pinky May (Milt's dad) and something known as WWII (which doesn't stand for World Wrestling whatever ...).
Last Weds. nite's NL-pennant-clinching win was the franchise's 8,882nd victory, which, in fact, ranks them among the Top 20 all-time winningest teams in pro sports history.
So, to answer the question: "No" ... we'll never vote for Travis Lee (Phillie for 2.5 seasons, '00-'02 ... Devil Ray in '03, '05, '06 -- except for that one week he spent w/ the Yankees in '04) to conduct that ceremonial first pitch ...
Tragic Lee got squeezed by the numbers game -- because he's only #4 on the depth chart of all-time fave Phillie #16s (behind J.C. Romero, Tony Longmire and -- gulp! -- Luis Aguayo).
Sorry, Travis-Tee ...
b
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Stuck In A Pagoda (With Tritia Toyota)
Everybody has the same reaction -- it's a lot better to be stuck in a pagoda with Tritia Toyota than locked inside a Datsun with Santana Dotson.
America was reminded of that this morning when FRED XM 44 fired up the Dickies' classic "(I'm Stuck In A Pagoda With) Tricia Toyota" ... probably as a way of sticking it to the SoCals.
Some of us can still vividly recall when we were a Phils Phan teen in the Southland and, as one of the presents for an 18th birthday, receiving that band's debut album, "The Incredible Shrinking Dickies" (an LP which was pressed on either one of four colors: red, blue, green and yellow ... this version here is yellow).
When "Dawn of the Dickies" was released less than 8 mos. after the debut LP, it was then that the clientele of the Whisky and the Roxy had to decide if "(I'm Stuck In A Pagoda With) Tricia Toyota" and "Manny, Moe & Jack" (the one-of-a-kind ode to SoCal's Pep Boys ... "for the right price / they will sell you fuzzy dice ...") could stack up against the likes of fan favourites such as "Waterslide," "Walk Like An Egg," "You Drive Me Ape (You Big Gorilla)" and "Rondo (The Midgets Revenge)".
Those were the days when it didn't seem to matter that the Dickies misspelled "Tritia" as "Tricia" (and not "Trisha").
Either way, FRED XM 44 is bushels of fun -- and our enjoyment should increase exponentially (whatever that means) once the XM/Sirius, satellite radio forces collide and twin FRED w/ 1st Wave, yadda yadda yadda ...
Freddie Snakeskin seems prepared and equipped to keep KROQ in our bloodstreams -- reminding us that Tritia Toyota was every bit the SoCal TV icon that Connie Frickin' Chung was (although neither the Japanese Toyota nor the Chinese Chung, who got her breakthrough at KNXT-TV, can hold a candle to the Asian Sensation which we currently know as CNN's Betty Nguyen).
Nowadays, SoCals seem more concerned with the the well-being of their Japanese stars Hiroki Kuroda and Takashi Saito (not so much w/ Taiwanese imports, Hong-Chih Kuo and Chin-Lung Hu) than they do about L.A. news-anchor legends named Tritia Toyota (who, at some point in her life, apparently, changed her name from "Letritia R. Miyake").
It seems almost pointless to share a plate of chicken teriyaki with Letritia Miyake or a platter of sushi with Kristi Yamaguchi -- and it's considered to be in poor taste when you're in L.A. to say that you're late for a meeting with Mr. Takagi over at Nakatomi Plaza.
Sadly, Dickies band member Chuck Wagon (not his real name) didn't live to see "Die Hard" -- and none of us can remember if the song "Wagon Train" on the "Stukas Over Disneyland" LP is a tribute to Chuck Wagon, who committed suicide in 1981 (the year that Lasorda and the Dodjerks won a world championship they didn't deserve, thanks to the players' strike and some awkward commissioning by Bowie Kuhn).
Lasorda looked like a goddamned idiot last night, standing in the walkway near the backstop and waving the white surrender towel.
Is Lasorda EVER going to die already?
Look ... nobody in Chavez Ravine got seriously revved up last night because, well ... it's difficult to know how to react when we don't know what the outcome will be between Vic Mackey and Shane Vendrell in the ultimate confrontation which all began at The Barn in Farmington.
The very first time that we saw Mackey and Vendrell in action, they concluded that very first episode of that very first season by climbing through the window of that drug dealer's house as Dodger Stadium's lights shone in the not-so-very-far-distance.
After gunning down the drug lord, Mackey surprised us all ("shock" is too strong a term here because we did not yet know Vic Mackey nor did we know what he was capable of) by turning from the bathroom, looking down the hallway, raising his gun and putting a bullet into the left cheek of Terry Crowley, a fellow strike-team member.
Just like that, Mackey wasted a co-worker -- which means that David Aceveda would've been better off using longtime Orioles hitting coach Terry Crowley as his informant rather than the Terry Crowley that he selected.
But, that's L.A. for ya (whether or not you make the connection between the John Vukovich who we loved as a Phillie and the John Vukovich from "To Live And Die In L.A.").
As it stands, SoCal is now the perfect refuge for Joe Torre, who wears his Dodger cap and wetsuit whilst he paddles on his surfboard -- and it's where Torre's first lieutenanrt resides ... that being one of our ex-heroes, the former Donnie Baseball.
In the big ol' photo we see in this week's S.I. (the one with Colt McCoy on the cover), Mattingly looks nuthin' like the how he's posing in the framed photo directly outside this study.
Mattingly's got the Dodjerk Blue ballcap w/ the slight sweat ring visible and he's wearing a white-ish/gray-ish soul patch under the lower lip plus one of those lame blue playoff hoodies (those sweatshirts look as though anyone could pick one up at Big 5 or Oshmans or Sports Authority or Dick's or Modell's) ... plus Don's wearing a ring on his RIGHT ring finger.
Ya can't tell if he's trying to be medieval or Bohemian or gothic or what.
But, ya know that, in your heart of hearts, he's not suited to share the same framed-photo wall as Stevie Yzerman, who is hoisting the second of his three Stanley Cups.
Since Derek Lowe wears #23 for the Dodjerks, one wonders what number Mattingly has under that blue hoodie that he bought at Big 5.
Actually, he probably doesn't have a number at all -- probably just a giant ampersand ... meant to appease the titans of New Bohemia.
While we understand that The Artist Formerly Known As Donnie Baseball has experienced some personal problems this year, there's no excuse for a ring on the right ring finger.
Seriously ... who wears a ring on his right hand?
And who wears one in the dugout? (that is, aside from Torre, who wears that too-expensive wristwatch and a completely-unnecessary bracelet ... if he'd worn that when he was sharin' a St. Louis Cardinals dugout w/ Bob Gibson almost 40 years ago, Gibby would've walked over and asked, "Joe, what's with the pussy jewelry? This is a ballpark ... not Shelly's Musk Lounge.").
We're gonna miss those Dodjerks -- and the game we've played for the past week, called "Look! Torre's wearing Garvey's #6! Ethier's wearing Nomo's #16! Nomar's wearing Mike Marshall's #5! Martin's wearing Hershisher's #55!" -- but, with any luck, The MLB will continue to air those commercials for The RBI Project (Reviving Baseball in the Inner-City) wherein Jimmy Rollins is overseeing a youth-league game between the junior Phillies and the junior Dodgers.
For the Chicanos eatin' chimichangas and drivin' their Chebbies 'round Boyle Heights, the R.B.I. Program don't mean shit, ess-ssay.
C'mon ... we all saw Denzell in "Training Day."
We've seen Mackey shake down the Biz Lats.
We've all been to Olivera Street.
But, as for that black dude which we saw wearing that blue L.A. cap outside FedEx Kinko's two days ago, well ... some of us simply nodded as we walked past that dude and pointed to the red "P" on our Hawaiian-print shirt which we bought at The Cit during the very first Sunday ballgame played at that ballpark (rather than gettin' up in his grille and aggressively asking, "Are you Delino DeShields? If you are, you suck!").
It was an odd crossing of paths several hours before the moment when our Hawaiian-styled shirt w/ the red "P" was watching the Hawaiian-styled ballplayer named "Victorino" circle the bases after hittin' the game-tying homer.
The sum of these chance meetings and minor flashbacks -- be it Misspelled Tritia Toyota and the Fake Delino DeShields -- are the connective tissue in linking the past to the present (and maybe to the future).
Think about it: 25 years ago (when we previously saw the Phillies ending the Dodjerks season), there was a #11 in Phillie pinstripes (albeit those pinstripes were maroon, not red) playin' shortstop (DeJesus) -- and 15 years ago (when we last saw the Phillies in the World Series) the Phillie manager, an ex-shortstop, was wearin' #11 (Fregosi) and one of of the broadcasters for CBS was an ex-catcher who wore #11 (McCarver) for the Phillies.
Coincidence?
Despite these 11 degrees of separation, it'll probably be another 11 years until the Phillies place ROLLINS 11 alongside ASHBURN 1, BUNNING 14, SCHMIDT 20, CARLTON 32, ROBERTS 36 and CARMAN 42 (truth be told, it might be more fitting to make it happen in 2020, since it was J-Roll's 20 doubles, 20 triples, 20 homers and 20 steals which inspired us all and << pardon? >> the Phillies DIDN'T retire #42 in honor of Don Carman? OK, then ... was it for Ron Reed?).
Sometimes, it's left to us old-school guys to bridge the gap between then (when Sixto Lezcano was wearin' #28 and playin' RF at The Vet for the N.L. champs) and now (when it's Jayson Werth wearin' #28 and playin' RF before 20,000 less fans, in a Vet vs. Cit scenario).
True ... we could ask Dodger pitching coach Rick Honeycutt which grip he used on the baseball in the bottom of the 5th 25 years ago when Sixto tagged him for that 2-run homer which was the second death blow of the game (Sarge had the 3-run blast in the first, which, if you remember, Vin Scully described as "a cherry bomb into the upper deck").
Or we could B.S. with Honeycutt about how the Dodgers were 11-1 vs. Philly that year.
Or we could make small talk about how some of us were Phillie Phans back then who were keepin' tabs on who would develop more rapidly -- the young first baseman for the Phillies (Len Matuszek) or the rookie first baseman wearing #46 for the Yankees (Mattingly) who nobody knew about.
These things gnaw at a fella ... like how the '83 season began ... with a loss at Shea before 46,000-plus followed by a loss at Shea two days later before 5,700 fans ... but then, a week later, the Fightin's won the home opener vs. the Mets when Larry Milbourne's sac bunt in the bottom of the 9th helped get the winning run into scoring position before Milbourne ended it himself in the bottom of the 10th on an RBI single -- only to be followed the next day by the Phils trailing, 9-5, entering the bottom of the 9th before Bill Robinson, representing the tying run, drew a bases-loaded walk, setting up Bo Diaz for the walk-off grand slam.
Right about the time that a Phils phan is thinkin' that it's going to be a magical season after all, before ya know it, he's breakin' up with Cynthia several week after Bo's slam, the Yankees are purchasing the contract of the aforementioned Larry Milbourne (leaving us with nuthin' but an '83 Topps card of Lare ... #72 in the series) after he's played in only 41 games, Liza becomes the new girlfriend on the next-to-last-day of the season until she decides to allow the mescaline to affect her thinking, leading to the breakup three games into the World Series, leaving a guy with no other choice but a long off-season of bangin' Denice and realizing that the only thing we really have in common was an appreciation for XTC's "Mummer."
Talk about a twisted love connection.
While the Phillies take our minds to some mighty dark corners, everybody knows that the mummer parades are a part of Philly pholklore.
Lucky for some of us, though, this modern-day World Series will be spent w/ the gal who rode shotgun for the '93 Series ... the little lass who sees the Phillies' hitting instructor on TV and repeats what Mariano and Batty said on the '93 team video:
"Papa Thompson ... Grandpa Milt."
These are concepts that neither a Liza nor a Denice could ever grasp.
And, it's too late in the game for Letritia Miyake to explain it to them ...
b
America was reminded of that this morning when FRED XM 44 fired up the Dickies' classic "(I'm Stuck In A Pagoda With) Tricia Toyota" ... probably as a way of sticking it to the SoCals.
Some of us can still vividly recall when we were a Phils Phan teen in the Southland and, as one of the presents for an 18th birthday, receiving that band's debut album, "The Incredible Shrinking Dickies" (an LP which was pressed on either one of four colors: red, blue, green and yellow ... this version here is yellow).
When "Dawn of the Dickies" was released less than 8 mos. after the debut LP, it was then that the clientele of the Whisky and the Roxy had to decide if "(I'm Stuck In A Pagoda With) Tricia Toyota" and "Manny, Moe & Jack" (the one-of-a-kind ode to SoCal's Pep Boys ... "for the right price / they will sell you fuzzy dice ...") could stack up against the likes of fan favourites such as "Waterslide," "Walk Like An Egg," "You Drive Me Ape (You Big Gorilla)" and "Rondo (The Midgets Revenge)".
Those were the days when it didn't seem to matter that the Dickies misspelled "Tritia" as "Tricia" (and not "Trisha").
Either way, FRED XM 44 is bushels of fun -- and our enjoyment should increase exponentially (whatever that means) once the XM/Sirius, satellite radio forces collide and twin FRED w/ 1st Wave, yadda yadda yadda ...
Freddie Snakeskin seems prepared and equipped to keep KROQ in our bloodstreams -- reminding us that Tritia Toyota was every bit the SoCal TV icon that Connie Frickin' Chung was (although neither the Japanese Toyota nor the Chinese Chung, who got her breakthrough at KNXT-TV, can hold a candle to the Asian Sensation which we currently know as CNN's Betty Nguyen).
Nowadays, SoCals seem more concerned with the the well-being of their Japanese stars Hiroki Kuroda and Takashi Saito (not so much w/ Taiwanese imports, Hong-Chih Kuo and Chin-Lung Hu) than they do about L.A. news-anchor legends named Tritia Toyota (who, at some point in her life, apparently, changed her name from "Letritia R. Miyake").
It seems almost pointless to share a plate of chicken teriyaki with Letritia Miyake or a platter of sushi with Kristi Yamaguchi -- and it's considered to be in poor taste when you're in L.A. to say that you're late for a meeting with Mr. Takagi over at Nakatomi Plaza.
Sadly, Dickies band member Chuck Wagon (not his real name) didn't live to see "Die Hard" -- and none of us can remember if the song "Wagon Train" on the "Stukas Over Disneyland" LP is a tribute to Chuck Wagon, who committed suicide in 1981 (the year that Lasorda and the Dodjerks won a world championship they didn't deserve, thanks to the players' strike and some awkward commissioning by Bowie Kuhn).
Lasorda looked like a goddamned idiot last night, standing in the walkway near the backstop and waving the white surrender towel.
Is Lasorda EVER going to die already?
Look ... nobody in Chavez Ravine got seriously revved up last night because, well ... it's difficult to know how to react when we don't know what the outcome will be between Vic Mackey and Shane Vendrell in the ultimate confrontation which all began at The Barn in Farmington.
The very first time that we saw Mackey and Vendrell in action, they concluded that very first episode of that very first season by climbing through the window of that drug dealer's house as Dodger Stadium's lights shone in the not-so-very-far-distance.
After gunning down the drug lord, Mackey surprised us all ("shock" is too strong a term here because we did not yet know Vic Mackey nor did we know what he was capable of) by turning from the bathroom, looking down the hallway, raising his gun and putting a bullet into the left cheek of Terry Crowley, a fellow strike-team member.
Just like that, Mackey wasted a co-worker -- which means that David Aceveda would've been better off using longtime Orioles hitting coach Terry Crowley as his informant rather than the Terry Crowley that he selected.
But, that's L.A. for ya (whether or not you make the connection between the John Vukovich who we loved as a Phillie and the John Vukovich from "To Live And Die In L.A.").
As it stands, SoCal is now the perfect refuge for Joe Torre, who wears his Dodger cap and wetsuit whilst he paddles on his surfboard -- and it's where Torre's first lieutenanrt resides ... that being one of our ex-heroes, the former Donnie Baseball.
In the big ol' photo we see in this week's S.I. (the one with Colt McCoy on the cover), Mattingly looks nuthin' like the how he's posing in the framed photo directly outside this study.
Mattingly's got the Dodjerk Blue ballcap w/ the slight sweat ring visible and he's wearing a white-ish/gray-ish soul patch under the lower lip plus one of those lame blue playoff hoodies (those sweatshirts look as though anyone could pick one up at Big 5 or Oshmans or Sports Authority or Dick's or Modell's) ... plus Don's wearing a ring on his RIGHT ring finger.
Ya can't tell if he's trying to be medieval or Bohemian or gothic or what.
But, ya know that, in your heart of hearts, he's not suited to share the same framed-photo wall as Stevie Yzerman, who is hoisting the second of his three Stanley Cups.
Since Derek Lowe wears #23 for the Dodjerks, one wonders what number Mattingly has under that blue hoodie that he bought at Big 5.
Actually, he probably doesn't have a number at all -- probably just a giant ampersand ... meant to appease the titans of New Bohemia.
While we understand that The Artist Formerly Known As Donnie Baseball has experienced some personal problems this year, there's no excuse for a ring on the right ring finger.
Seriously ... who wears a ring on his right hand?
And who wears one in the dugout? (that is, aside from Torre, who wears that too-expensive wristwatch and a completely-unnecessary bracelet ... if he'd worn that when he was sharin' a St. Louis Cardinals dugout w/ Bob Gibson almost 40 years ago, Gibby would've walked over and asked, "Joe, what's with the pussy jewelry? This is a ballpark ... not Shelly's Musk Lounge.").
We're gonna miss those Dodjerks -- and the game we've played for the past week, called "Look! Torre's wearing Garvey's #6! Ethier's wearing Nomo's #16! Nomar's wearing Mike Marshall's #5! Martin's wearing Hershisher's #55!" -- but, with any luck, The MLB will continue to air those commercials for The RBI Project (Reviving Baseball in the Inner-City) wherein Jimmy Rollins is overseeing a youth-league game between the junior Phillies and the junior Dodgers.
For the Chicanos eatin' chimichangas and drivin' their Chebbies 'round Boyle Heights, the R.B.I. Program don't mean shit, ess-ssay.
C'mon ... we all saw Denzell in "Training Day."
We've seen Mackey shake down the Biz Lats.
We've all been to Olivera Street.
But, as for that black dude which we saw wearing that blue L.A. cap outside FedEx Kinko's two days ago, well ... some of us simply nodded as we walked past that dude and pointed to the red "P" on our Hawaiian-print shirt which we bought at The Cit during the very first Sunday ballgame played at that ballpark (rather than gettin' up in his grille and aggressively asking, "Are you Delino DeShields? If you are, you suck!").
It was an odd crossing of paths several hours before the moment when our Hawaiian-styled shirt w/ the red "P" was watching the Hawaiian-styled ballplayer named "Victorino" circle the bases after hittin' the game-tying homer.
The sum of these chance meetings and minor flashbacks -- be it Misspelled Tritia Toyota and the Fake Delino DeShields -- are the connective tissue in linking the past to the present (and maybe to the future).
Think about it: 25 years ago (when we previously saw the Phillies ending the Dodjerks season), there was a #11 in Phillie pinstripes (albeit those pinstripes were maroon, not red) playin' shortstop (DeJesus) -- and 15 years ago (when we last saw the Phillies in the World Series) the Phillie manager, an ex-shortstop, was wearin' #11 (Fregosi) and one of of the broadcasters for CBS was an ex-catcher who wore #11 (McCarver) for the Phillies.
Coincidence?
Despite these 11 degrees of separation, it'll probably be another 11 years until the Phillies place ROLLINS 11 alongside ASHBURN 1, BUNNING 14, SCHMIDT 20, CARLTON 32, ROBERTS 36 and CARMAN 42 (truth be told, it might be more fitting to make it happen in 2020, since it was J-Roll's 20 doubles, 20 triples, 20 homers and 20 steals which inspired us all and << pardon? >> the Phillies DIDN'T retire #42 in honor of Don Carman? OK, then ... was it for Ron Reed?).
Sometimes, it's left to us old-school guys to bridge the gap between then (when Sixto Lezcano was wearin' #28 and playin' RF at The Vet for the N.L. champs) and now (when it's Jayson Werth wearin' #28 and playin' RF before 20,000 less fans, in a Vet vs. Cit scenario).
True ... we could ask Dodger pitching coach Rick Honeycutt which grip he used on the baseball in the bottom of the 5th 25 years ago when Sixto tagged him for that 2-run homer which was the second death blow of the game (Sarge had the 3-run blast in the first, which, if you remember, Vin Scully described as "a cherry bomb into the upper deck").
Or we could B.S. with Honeycutt about how the Dodgers were 11-1 vs. Philly that year.
Or we could make small talk about how some of us were Phillie Phans back then who were keepin' tabs on who would develop more rapidly -- the young first baseman for the Phillies (Len Matuszek) or the rookie first baseman wearing #46 for the Yankees (Mattingly) who nobody knew about.
These things gnaw at a fella ... like how the '83 season began ... with a loss at Shea before 46,000-plus followed by a loss at Shea two days later before 5,700 fans ... but then, a week later, the Fightin's won the home opener vs. the Mets when Larry Milbourne's sac bunt in the bottom of the 9th helped get the winning run into scoring position before Milbourne ended it himself in the bottom of the 10th on an RBI single -- only to be followed the next day by the Phils trailing, 9-5, entering the bottom of the 9th before Bill Robinson, representing the tying run, drew a bases-loaded walk, setting up Bo Diaz for the walk-off grand slam.
Right about the time that a Phils phan is thinkin' that it's going to be a magical season after all, before ya know it, he's breakin' up with Cynthia several week after Bo's slam, the Yankees are purchasing the contract of the aforementioned Larry Milbourne (leaving us with nuthin' but an '83 Topps card of Lare ... #72 in the series) after he's played in only 41 games, Liza becomes the new girlfriend on the next-to-last-day of the season until she decides to allow the mescaline to affect her thinking, leading to the breakup three games into the World Series, leaving a guy with no other choice but a long off-season of bangin' Denice and realizing that the only thing we really have in common was an appreciation for XTC's "Mummer."
Talk about a twisted love connection.
While the Phillies take our minds to some mighty dark corners, everybody knows that the mummer parades are a part of Philly pholklore.
Lucky for some of us, though, this modern-day World Series will be spent w/ the gal who rode shotgun for the '93 Series ... the little lass who sees the Phillies' hitting instructor on TV and repeats what Mariano and Batty said on the '93 team video:
"Papa Thompson ... Grandpa Milt."
These are concepts that neither a Liza nor a Denice could ever grasp.
And, it's too late in the game for Letritia Miyake to explain it to them ...
b
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
PHILLIES: '08 N.L. Champions
As the final stages of Game 5 unfolded, the obvious question popped into the head of the everyday Phillie Phan before Nomar's foul popup settled gently into the mitt of Carlos Ruiz situated in the middle of the NLCS logo.
"Is there such a thing as 'too much rest' -- as in 12-days-worth -- when it comes to Brick Myers and Jamie Moyer preparing for their World Series starts?"
The Fightin' Phils must ponder that -- and with the 14 days off between Game 2 of the NLCS at The Cit and Game 3 of the World Series at The Cit, Phillie Phan has plenty of time to send out those "Our Most Heartfelt Condolences" sympathy cards to America.
Y'know ... something which expresses a sincere apology to the nation.
"Sorry that it's not Manny vs. the Red Sox, blah blah blah ..."
"Sorry that it's not a Freeway Series between the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim and the Los Angeles Dodgers of Downtown L.A., Encino and Hacienda Heights, blah blah blah ..."
"Sorry that it's not a Windy City Series between the Wrigley Northsiders vs. Comiskey's Pale Hose, blah blah blah ..."
"Sorry that it's not Fuuuuu-kuuuuu-dohhh-mayyy vs. Dice K, blah blah blah ..."
"Sorry that Vlad Guerrero still refuses to speak English, blah blah blah ..."
George Costanza says that you can stuff your sorries in a sack, Mister -- but, even so, Phillie Phan is mighty geeked right now ... especially those of us who vividly recall sitting in that hospital room on the 14th floor and while wearing a Visitor sticker and picking at some lunchtime Jell-o (or maybe it was some pasta ... it's difficult to remember because the Mrs. was hooked to an I.V. as the imipenem was workin' its magic) watching that FOX Game of the Week vs. the D-Backs wherein Shane Victorino tied it up w/ a 2-run homer in the bottom of the 3rd, but then Adam Eaton ruined our appetite by walking a .160 hitter (Robby Hammock) before losing the battle w/ Randy Johnson and grooving a 2-strike meatball which The Big Unit rifled into the LF corner for a 2-run double amid a cacaphony of boos which cascaded down from all parts of The Cit -- dismay which increased moments later when rookie R.J. Swindle came on to pitch and served up a 2-run single to Chad Tracy and a 3-run homer to Mark Reynolds for a 10-2, 'Zona lead.
Two weeks later -- when Adam Eaton was required to relieve on consecutive days against the Braves (entering one game after Cole Hamels allowed 9 runs in an inning, five of 'em unearned, and coming in the next day and gettin' hammered in relief of newly-acquired Joe Blanton), it was then that many of us came to the realization that, "yes! The Phils DO have enough pitching to reach the World Series, absotively posilutely!"
Well, as it turned out, those relief stints were Eaton's last appearances with the big ballclub (hopefully ... forever), the Phils recovered from that 9-run inning by scoring 7 in the bottom of the 5th for a 10-9 win before erasing a 5-0 deficit the next day for a 12-10 win ... and, besides, Joe Blanton turned out to be much better than the 7.88 ERA following his first two Phillie starts indicated ... and everybody lived happily ever after???
Sure, there's plenty of satisfaction to be derived from tonight's capture of the N.L. flag, the only drawback being that this transmission placed the names of Chad Tracy and Mark Reynolds (the only player in MLB history to strike out more than 200 times in a season) ahead of tonight's heroes -- those being: J-Roll for jump-startin' matters by hammerin' a June Cleaver Fastball from pitcher Barbara Billingsley for a leadoff homer ... and Howard and Burrell gettin' those big RBI baseknocks (Ryan looked as though he went 5-hole on the L.A. first baseman ... "Lonely?" ... wait, what kind of a frickin' name is that? ... "Lonely"?) ...
Ohhh ... no, we didn't forget Furcal providing some comedy at SS.
FUNNY HOW LAUGHTER IS THE ONLY EMOTION WHICH MAKES ANY SENSE RIGHT NOW, here in this sector of Phillie Phanaticism ... the combo platter of amusement and bemusement ... of wonderment and bewilderment.
Let's think about this for a minute, though:
When the season began, Myers was the Opening Day starter ... Hamels was No. 2 (in theory, apparently) ... Moyer was a shaky No. 3 since he had the trifecta of wearing his important bio info on his back (age = "50" ... MPH of fastball = "50" ... '08 ERA = "5.0") ... Kendrick was slotted at No. 4, which seemed like a good fit given his '07 season (10-4/3.87, but one shaky playoff start) ... and Eaton, the complete waste-of-space (10-10/6.32 in '07) was ticketed for the No. 5 role (with hopes that he'd go 9-9, maybe, and get his ERA under 4.00, if God dropped everything else) ...
That's an OK starting staff, nuthin' special on the whole -- an assertion sustantiated by the fact that, at the All-Star Break, Myers was pitchin' for the Lehigh Valley IronPigs, Hamels (9-6/3.17) was not always receiving necessary run support, Moyer was slightly-better-than-mediocre (8-6/3.95), Kendrick was actually not afflicted by a sophomore jinx (yet) and Eaton hadn't gotten anyone killed (yet).
R.J. Swindle?
He was probably hoping that Manuel and Dubee would provide him with a more clearly-defined role.
Not today, R.J.
We can probably conclude that, on paper, it was the semi-wobbly state of the starting rotation which, in most of our minds, would prohibit this Phillie team from producing such deep postseason penetration, despite the quality of the starting lineup.
There can be no question that the Cubs were better equipped for such an undertaking, given the starting threesome of Dempster-Zambrano-Harden (and Lilly, if necessary), a lineup which scored the most runs in the NL and a reasonable bullpen.
"The bullpen" ...
Now, therein lies the rub, particularly "The Curse of Carlos Marmol."
Marmol is the guy who nobody's heard of who made the All-Star team this year (the same All-Star team in which extra-mediocre Fuuuu-kuuu-dohhh-mayyy was erroneously awarded Pat Burrell's spot on the roster and then was erroneously inserted into the starting lineup) based largely on everyone's love affair Marmol's 11.7 strikeouts-per-9-IP ratio ... a stat which killed the chances of a two-headed Chad Durbin/J.C. Romero from making the squad (which they deserved).
Again, it's the mention of Durbin and Romero which reminds us what exactly is the true strength of the Fightin' Phils -- especially when compared/contrasted to last year's laughingstock of a bullpen.
What memories:
Geoff Geary (57 gm/4.41)
J.C. Romero (51 gm/1.24)
Tom Gordon (44 gm/4.73)
Jose Mesa (40 gm/5.54)
Clay Condrey (39 gm/5.04)
Ryan Madson (38 gm/3.05)
Mike Zagurski (25 gm/5.91)
Francisco Rosario (23 gm/5.47)
Yoel Hernandez (14 gm/5.28)
Brian Sanches (12 gm/5.52)
Kane Davis (11 gm/5.56)
Fabio Castro (10 gm/6.00)
Matt Smith (9 gm/11.25)
Simple facts: 4.41 and 4.73 are sub-standard ... anything over 5.00 is unacceptable ... and anything 6.00 and up is riduculous.
Hard to believe that Joe Table and somebody named "Yoel" were allowed to pollute that many games -- and we still don't know if Zagurski went by "Zags" or "Gursk" in the clubhouse.
What we DO know (but, sometimes find difficult to believe) is what we saw this season from the 'pen:
J.C. Romero (81 gm/2.75)
Ryan Madson (76 gm/3.05)
Chad Durbin (71 gm/2.87)
Clay Condrey (56 gm/3.26)
Rudy Seanez (42 gm/3.53)
Tom Gordon (34 gm/5.16)
Scott Eyre (19 gm/1.88)
That is so completely commedable.
Romero got a full season and the Gillick signings of Durbin, Seanez and Eyre were well-founded. Madson doubled his workload and looked, at times, like a completely different pitcher than what we'd seen in the past and, hey, lookee thar -- Clay Condrey '08 was exceedingly better than Clay Condrey '07.
That entire bullpen should take a bow (and that means you, too, Rudy) because what it did was studtacular -- particularly since Brick Myers was barely adequate in Game 2 and Kentucky Joe was marginally so-so in the crucial Game 4 (their efforts vs. the Blue Crew not quite on par with their excellent performances in Games 2 and 4, repsectively, vs. the Brew Crew).
Just like the Chicago Flubs, the L.A. Dodjerks seemingly had all of the pitching-staff mathematical equations in their favour during this, The Era Of Sabremetrical Deliciousness Re: OBP + SLG % = OPS ... which is why guys who should know better (Gammons and Kruk) might've felt inclined to lean toward a Derek Lowe pitching on "full rest" w/ Billingsley set for a Game 5 bounceback.
It's not about numbers or theories or supposition or circumspection or arm slot or the fastball topping out at 94 or 95, blah blah blah blah blah blah ... it's about performance, nuthin' else.
If Wade can't figure out that it's wiser to go up and away to Victorino, rather than down and in, well ... okay (that's dandy).
If Broxton wants to hit 100 MPH on the Jugs gun, well ... that's super duper when he's actually toppin' out at 92 on a pecker-high fastball (with no late action on it) which Matt Stairs hits halfway to Oxnard (or was it Ojai?).
While it is true that ("reformed") sex-addict Steve Phillips definitely puts the B.S. in "baseball," it'll probably be years most Americans arrive at the point where discussing what might happen and what should happen are secondary to accepting or appreciating what actually did happen and how it happened as it happened.
Las Vegas bookmakers are counting on that, anyway.
Same with John Kruk (whose job is ridin' on it).
We came to accept and appreciate Krukker for the shaggy/scruffy manner in which he batted .300 during his career while dispalying occasional pop and who, when ya look at it, was better on the basepaths than ya might've thought and, yup, he wasn't shabby with the glove, either.
Really, though ... the sportcoat n' necktie is a mighty feeble cover-up for the fact that he, like (reformed) sex-addict Steve Phillips, doesn't add anything to a Baseball Tonight broadcast.
Krukkie's appeal was that he was a see-ball, hit-ball brand of player (not that he was entirely bereft of the capacity for deep thinking), so rarely, if ever, will he give ya anything more meaningful than, "Broxton probably should'nta grooved one to Stairs."
Jeez ... ya think?
Luckily, the Fightin's have a Henry David Thoreau (simplify ... simplify ...) of mound aces in Cole Hamels ... and that was mighty nice of him to take the pressure off ev'ryb'dy in the 'pen tonight (Madson and Lidge had their token appearances) as well as closing out the series w/o forcing a Game 6 in Philly.
It's a real darn shame for the Dodjerks that they didn't have 7 or 8 runners aboard when Man-Ram went yard (truth: With the way Manny's been hitting, Hamels could've thrown 3 baseballs at once -- and Man-Ram would've probably crushed one of 'em -- maybe two of 'em -- into the left-field pavilion).
Alas, since Manny couldn't deliver that 7-run or 8-run homer to turn the game around, there's really no other choice for those of us Phillie Phans who grew up slightly north of L.A. to phone up the Dodjerk-fan of an ex-mom and end 27 years of silence with a poignant mother-son reunion which is rich with pathos.
"Are you not entertained?! ARE ... YOU ... NOT ... ENTERTAINED?! Is this not why you are here?!"
As it so happens, ex-moms don't like it so much when ya quote The Spaniard, but, then again, ex-moms become ex-moms when they aren't exactly pro-Dodjerk and they're more anti-Phillie simply because their son is pro-Phillie -- notwithstanding the fact that the Alzheimer's is hittin' her quite severely nowadays, which means that, in this instance (and only in this instance), the ex-son is wholeheartedly pro-Alzheimer's.
Hey, she's earned it.
As the band X informed us on the debut album ("Los Angeles") which was discussed previously, "You're Phone's Off The Hook, But You're Not."
Then, who is off the hook?
Let's go with Joe Lefebvre.
Everybody remembers when Jimmy Lefebvre was playin' for the Dodgers, he pronounced his name "luh-FEE-vur" -- but then when Joe Lefebvre came along, we were instructed to pronounce it "luh-FAY."
Our hearts were filled with conflict initally, but then when we had to tell a "Luh-FAY Visits L.A." anecdote, it rolled off the tongue easier.
So, maybe tonight's victory should elicit a game ball rather than a phone call ... and if they actually gave game balls after in baseball as they do in football, some of us would give one to Pops since it was he who bought the tickets for that Aug. '83 game when Schmidty came out of the game in the 4th inning and Joe Lefebvre moved from RF to 3B ... and then Joe had a slight problem when he fielded that little tapper by Jack Fimple and fired a throw to first base with nobody covering the bag, goddammit!
Those Jack Fimple's '83 Dodjerks went 11-1 against the Phillies during the regular season -- and that roster was filled with some of the most-annoying Dodjerks of all-time: Sax, Brock, Marshall, Russell, Valenzuela, Hooton, Yeager, Fimple, Landreaux, Dusty, Reuss, Monday ... but it doesn't matter that Pops and his son never went to another Phillie-Dodger game because the '83 Phils immediately atoned for regular-season misdeeds by knocking out L.A. in the '83 playoffs.
And, now ... this.
So, no ... there's probably no point in the ex-sone asking his ex-mom what she thought of tonight's celebs seated near the Dodjerk on-deck circle ... Pat Sajak -- and, then, a little later, Al Michaels -- just as it's probably useless to ask her how cool it would've been to see the former "Three's Company" WashoutNotNamedSuzanneSomers, Joyce DeWitt, blowin' some good luck kisses at Blake DeWitt.
Before Blake DeWitt, on cue, whiffed again or bounced into another DP ...
Hollywoodland never loses its starlet charm -- and that was never more apparent than during the postgame aftermath when the Disneyland Sports Channel (ESPN) allowed Colleen Dominguez to go wild w/ a live mike during the Phillies' postgame jubilance.
Dominguez (giggly): "Shane Victorino, you're going to the World Series ... how do you feel?" (For chrissakes, EspyTime Network, just get it over with already and have Ta-Ta EyeCandy take off her blouse ... or, at least, have her dressed in a white tank top as players take turns pouring champagne down her front ... tastefully done, of course ... not in a manner which objectifies women, female reporters or the jugs of chick media-types ... just to give America's 18-to-34 male demographic an arousal factor that on-field reporters Ken Rosenthal and David Aldridge simply cannot match ... ).
Speaking of the craziness of the postgame celebration, America saw Phillie World Series '08 architects Pat Gillick and David Montgomery in the clubhouse, along with Bill Giles, blah blah blah ... right about the time we heard Ed Wade's name mentioned, some of wondered how cool it would've been if, somehow, Charley Kerfeld had walked smack-dab into the middle of the trophy presentation and accepted on behalf of, "hey, who the hell are you?" and Charley went Dwight Schrute with, "I'm the assistant G.M.", prompting Ruben Amaro (the kid, not the dad) to burst in and exclaim, "I'm the assistant G.M. ... he's the special assistant to the G.M.!"
Admit it, America ... THAT woulda been cool -- almost as cool as when, during the '86 NLCS, Kerfeld -- a rookie reliever w/ Houston who enjoyed wearing his Jetsons t-shirt in the clubhouse -- couldn't close the deal against the Mets in one of those tense ballgames, so a newspaper writer offered up the punchline: "The Jetsons had a dog named Astro. The Astros have a dog named Charley Kerfeld."
In retrospect, Charlie Manuel would probably take umbrage to such anti-Charley negativity.
This is the kind of sensory overload that we must deal with until it is determined if the Phillies' Game 1 is in St. Petersburg or in Ben Affleck Stadium (Brick Myers is hoping against hope that it's NOT in Beantown because, as the Game 2 starter, he'd be required to pitch in the city where there was "an incident" -- or a "non-incident" -- and there's no way that he'd last long on Fenway's mound with the Chowds acting belligerent re: the "non-incident").
That boy needs to get his mind right w/o having his pitching vibe harshed.
As for the Dodjerks?
L.A.ter, Lost Angeles ...
b
"Is there such a thing as 'too much rest' -- as in 12-days-worth -- when it comes to Brick Myers and Jamie Moyer preparing for their World Series starts?"
The Fightin' Phils must ponder that -- and with the 14 days off between Game 2 of the NLCS at The Cit and Game 3 of the World Series at The Cit, Phillie Phan has plenty of time to send out those "Our Most Heartfelt Condolences" sympathy cards to America.
Y'know ... something which expresses a sincere apology to the nation.
"Sorry that it's not Manny vs. the Red Sox, blah blah blah ..."
"Sorry that it's not a Freeway Series between the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim and the Los Angeles Dodgers of Downtown L.A., Encino and Hacienda Heights, blah blah blah ..."
"Sorry that it's not a Windy City Series between the Wrigley Northsiders vs. Comiskey's Pale Hose, blah blah blah ..."
"Sorry that it's not Fuuuuu-kuuuuu-dohhh-mayyy vs. Dice K, blah blah blah ..."
"Sorry that Vlad Guerrero still refuses to speak English, blah blah blah ..."
George Costanza says that you can stuff your sorries in a sack, Mister -- but, even so, Phillie Phan is mighty geeked right now ... especially those of us who vividly recall sitting in that hospital room on the 14th floor and while wearing a Visitor sticker and picking at some lunchtime Jell-o (or maybe it was some pasta ... it's difficult to remember because the Mrs. was hooked to an I.V. as the imipenem was workin' its magic) watching that FOX Game of the Week vs. the D-Backs wherein Shane Victorino tied it up w/ a 2-run homer in the bottom of the 3rd, but then Adam Eaton ruined our appetite by walking a .160 hitter (Robby Hammock) before losing the battle w/ Randy Johnson and grooving a 2-strike meatball which The Big Unit rifled into the LF corner for a 2-run double amid a cacaphony of boos which cascaded down from all parts of The Cit -- dismay which increased moments later when rookie R.J. Swindle came on to pitch and served up a 2-run single to Chad Tracy and a 3-run homer to Mark Reynolds for a 10-2, 'Zona lead.
Two weeks later -- when Adam Eaton was required to relieve on consecutive days against the Braves (entering one game after Cole Hamels allowed 9 runs in an inning, five of 'em unearned, and coming in the next day and gettin' hammered in relief of newly-acquired Joe Blanton), it was then that many of us came to the realization that, "yes! The Phils DO have enough pitching to reach the World Series, absotively posilutely!"
Well, as it turned out, those relief stints were Eaton's last appearances with the big ballclub (hopefully ... forever), the Phils recovered from that 9-run inning by scoring 7 in the bottom of the 5th for a 10-9 win before erasing a 5-0 deficit the next day for a 12-10 win ... and, besides, Joe Blanton turned out to be much better than the 7.88 ERA following his first two Phillie starts indicated ... and everybody lived happily ever after???
Sure, there's plenty of satisfaction to be derived from tonight's capture of the N.L. flag, the only drawback being that this transmission placed the names of Chad Tracy and Mark Reynolds (the only player in MLB history to strike out more than 200 times in a season) ahead of tonight's heroes -- those being: J-Roll for jump-startin' matters by hammerin' a June Cleaver Fastball from pitcher Barbara Billingsley for a leadoff homer ... and Howard and Burrell gettin' those big RBI baseknocks (Ryan looked as though he went 5-hole on the L.A. first baseman ... "Lonely?" ... wait, what kind of a frickin' name is that? ... "Lonely"?) ...
Ohhh ... no, we didn't forget Furcal providing some comedy at SS.
FUNNY HOW LAUGHTER IS THE ONLY EMOTION WHICH MAKES ANY SENSE RIGHT NOW, here in this sector of Phillie Phanaticism ... the combo platter of amusement and bemusement ... of wonderment and bewilderment.
Let's think about this for a minute, though:
When the season began, Myers was the Opening Day starter ... Hamels was No. 2 (in theory, apparently) ... Moyer was a shaky No. 3 since he had the trifecta of wearing his important bio info on his back (age = "50" ... MPH of fastball = "50" ... '08 ERA = "5.0") ... Kendrick was slotted at No. 4, which seemed like a good fit given his '07 season (10-4/3.87, but one shaky playoff start) ... and Eaton, the complete waste-of-space (10-10/6.32 in '07) was ticketed for the No. 5 role (with hopes that he'd go 9-9, maybe, and get his ERA under 4.00, if God dropped everything else) ...
That's an OK starting staff, nuthin' special on the whole -- an assertion sustantiated by the fact that, at the All-Star Break, Myers was pitchin' for the Lehigh Valley IronPigs, Hamels (9-6/3.17) was not always receiving necessary run support, Moyer was slightly-better-than-mediocre (8-6/3.95), Kendrick was actually not afflicted by a sophomore jinx (yet) and Eaton hadn't gotten anyone killed (yet).
R.J. Swindle?
He was probably hoping that Manuel and Dubee would provide him with a more clearly-defined role.
Not today, R.J.
We can probably conclude that, on paper, it was the semi-wobbly state of the starting rotation which, in most of our minds, would prohibit this Phillie team from producing such deep postseason penetration, despite the quality of the starting lineup.
There can be no question that the Cubs were better equipped for such an undertaking, given the starting threesome of Dempster-Zambrano-Harden (and Lilly, if necessary), a lineup which scored the most runs in the NL and a reasonable bullpen.
"The bullpen" ...
Now, therein lies the rub, particularly "The Curse of Carlos Marmol."
Marmol is the guy who nobody's heard of who made the All-Star team this year (the same All-Star team in which extra-mediocre Fuuuu-kuuu-dohhh-mayyy was erroneously awarded Pat Burrell's spot on the roster and then was erroneously inserted into the starting lineup) based largely on everyone's love affair Marmol's 11.7 strikeouts-per-9-IP ratio ... a stat which killed the chances of a two-headed Chad Durbin/J.C. Romero from making the squad (which they deserved).
Again, it's the mention of Durbin and Romero which reminds us what exactly is the true strength of the Fightin' Phils -- especially when compared/contrasted to last year's laughingstock of a bullpen.
What memories:
Geoff Geary (57 gm/4.41)
J.C. Romero (51 gm/1.24)
Tom Gordon (44 gm/4.73)
Jose Mesa (40 gm/5.54)
Clay Condrey (39 gm/5.04)
Ryan Madson (38 gm/3.05)
Mike Zagurski (25 gm/5.91)
Francisco Rosario (23 gm/5.47)
Yoel Hernandez (14 gm/5.28)
Brian Sanches (12 gm/5.52)
Kane Davis (11 gm/5.56)
Fabio Castro (10 gm/6.00)
Matt Smith (9 gm/11.25)
Simple facts: 4.41 and 4.73 are sub-standard ... anything over 5.00 is unacceptable ... and anything 6.00 and up is riduculous.
Hard to believe that Joe Table and somebody named "Yoel" were allowed to pollute that many games -- and we still don't know if Zagurski went by "Zags" or "Gursk" in the clubhouse.
What we DO know (but, sometimes find difficult to believe) is what we saw this season from the 'pen:
J.C. Romero (81 gm/2.75)
Ryan Madson (76 gm/3.05)
Chad Durbin (71 gm/2.87)
Clay Condrey (56 gm/3.26)
Rudy Seanez (42 gm/3.53)
Tom Gordon (34 gm/5.16)
Scott Eyre (19 gm/1.88)
That is so completely commedable.
Romero got a full season and the Gillick signings of Durbin, Seanez and Eyre were well-founded. Madson doubled his workload and looked, at times, like a completely different pitcher than what we'd seen in the past and, hey, lookee thar -- Clay Condrey '08 was exceedingly better than Clay Condrey '07.
That entire bullpen should take a bow (and that means you, too, Rudy) because what it did was studtacular -- particularly since Brick Myers was barely adequate in Game 2 and Kentucky Joe was marginally so-so in the crucial Game 4 (their efforts vs. the Blue Crew not quite on par with their excellent performances in Games 2 and 4, repsectively, vs. the Brew Crew).
Just like the Chicago Flubs, the L.A. Dodjerks seemingly had all of the pitching-staff mathematical equations in their favour during this, The Era Of Sabremetrical Deliciousness Re: OBP + SLG % = OPS ... which is why guys who should know better (Gammons and Kruk) might've felt inclined to lean toward a Derek Lowe pitching on "full rest" w/ Billingsley set for a Game 5 bounceback.
It's not about numbers or theories or supposition or circumspection or arm slot or the fastball topping out at 94 or 95, blah blah blah blah blah blah ... it's about performance, nuthin' else.
If Wade can't figure out that it's wiser to go up and away to Victorino, rather than down and in, well ... okay (that's dandy).
If Broxton wants to hit 100 MPH on the Jugs gun, well ... that's super duper when he's actually toppin' out at 92 on a pecker-high fastball (with no late action on it) which Matt Stairs hits halfway to Oxnard (or was it Ojai?).
While it is true that ("reformed") sex-addict Steve Phillips definitely puts the B.S. in "baseball," it'll probably be years most Americans arrive at the point where discussing what might happen and what should happen are secondary to accepting or appreciating what actually did happen and how it happened as it happened.
Las Vegas bookmakers are counting on that, anyway.
Same with John Kruk (whose job is ridin' on it).
We came to accept and appreciate Krukker for the shaggy/scruffy manner in which he batted .300 during his career while dispalying occasional pop and who, when ya look at it, was better on the basepaths than ya might've thought and, yup, he wasn't shabby with the glove, either.
Really, though ... the sportcoat n' necktie is a mighty feeble cover-up for the fact that he, like (reformed) sex-addict Steve Phillips, doesn't add anything to a Baseball Tonight broadcast.
Krukkie's appeal was that he was a see-ball, hit-ball brand of player (not that he was entirely bereft of the capacity for deep thinking), so rarely, if ever, will he give ya anything more meaningful than, "Broxton probably should'nta grooved one to Stairs."
Jeez ... ya think?
Luckily, the Fightin's have a Henry David Thoreau (simplify ... simplify ...) of mound aces in Cole Hamels ... and that was mighty nice of him to take the pressure off ev'ryb'dy in the 'pen tonight (Madson and Lidge had their token appearances) as well as closing out the series w/o forcing a Game 6 in Philly.
It's a real darn shame for the Dodjerks that they didn't have 7 or 8 runners aboard when Man-Ram went yard (truth: With the way Manny's been hitting, Hamels could've thrown 3 baseballs at once -- and Man-Ram would've probably crushed one of 'em -- maybe two of 'em -- into the left-field pavilion).
Alas, since Manny couldn't deliver that 7-run or 8-run homer to turn the game around, there's really no other choice for those of us Phillie Phans who grew up slightly north of L.A. to phone up the Dodjerk-fan of an ex-mom and end 27 years of silence with a poignant mother-son reunion which is rich with pathos.
"Are you not entertained?! ARE ... YOU ... NOT ... ENTERTAINED?! Is this not why you are here?!"
As it so happens, ex-moms don't like it so much when ya quote The Spaniard, but, then again, ex-moms become ex-moms when they aren't exactly pro-Dodjerk and they're more anti-Phillie simply because their son is pro-Phillie -- notwithstanding the fact that the Alzheimer's is hittin' her quite severely nowadays, which means that, in this instance (and only in this instance), the ex-son is wholeheartedly pro-Alzheimer's.
Hey, she's earned it.
As the band X informed us on the debut album ("Los Angeles") which was discussed previously, "You're Phone's Off The Hook, But You're Not."
Then, who is off the hook?
Let's go with Joe Lefebvre.
Everybody remembers when Jimmy Lefebvre was playin' for the Dodgers, he pronounced his name "luh-FEE-vur" -- but then when Joe Lefebvre came along, we were instructed to pronounce it "luh-FAY."
Our hearts were filled with conflict initally, but then when we had to tell a "Luh-FAY Visits L.A." anecdote, it rolled off the tongue easier.
So, maybe tonight's victory should elicit a game ball rather than a phone call ... and if they actually gave game balls after in baseball as they do in football, some of us would give one to Pops since it was he who bought the tickets for that Aug. '83 game when Schmidty came out of the game in the 4th inning and Joe Lefebvre moved from RF to 3B ... and then Joe had a slight problem when he fielded that little tapper by Jack Fimple and fired a throw to first base with nobody covering the bag, goddammit!
Those Jack Fimple's '83 Dodjerks went 11-1 against the Phillies during the regular season -- and that roster was filled with some of the most-annoying Dodjerks of all-time: Sax, Brock, Marshall, Russell, Valenzuela, Hooton, Yeager, Fimple, Landreaux, Dusty, Reuss, Monday ... but it doesn't matter that Pops and his son never went to another Phillie-Dodger game because the '83 Phils immediately atoned for regular-season misdeeds by knocking out L.A. in the '83 playoffs.
And, now ... this.
So, no ... there's probably no point in the ex-sone asking his ex-mom what she thought of tonight's celebs seated near the Dodjerk on-deck circle ... Pat Sajak -- and, then, a little later, Al Michaels -- just as it's probably useless to ask her how cool it would've been to see the former "Three's Company" WashoutNotNamedSuzanneSomers, Joyce DeWitt, blowin' some good luck kisses at Blake DeWitt.
Before Blake DeWitt, on cue, whiffed again or bounced into another DP ...
Hollywoodland never loses its starlet charm -- and that was never more apparent than during the postgame aftermath when the Disneyland Sports Channel (ESPN) allowed Colleen Dominguez to go wild w/ a live mike during the Phillies' postgame jubilance.
Dominguez (giggly): "Shane Victorino, you're going to the World Series ... how do you feel?" (For chrissakes, EspyTime Network, just get it over with already and have Ta-Ta EyeCandy take off her blouse ... or, at least, have her dressed in a white tank top as players take turns pouring champagne down her front ... tastefully done, of course ... not in a manner which objectifies women, female reporters or the jugs of chick media-types ... just to give America's 18-to-34 male demographic an arousal factor that on-field reporters Ken Rosenthal and David Aldridge simply cannot match ... ).
Speaking of the craziness of the postgame celebration, America saw Phillie World Series '08 architects Pat Gillick and David Montgomery in the clubhouse, along with Bill Giles, blah blah blah ... right about the time we heard Ed Wade's name mentioned, some of wondered how cool it would've been if, somehow, Charley Kerfeld had walked smack-dab into the middle of the trophy presentation and accepted on behalf of, "hey, who the hell are you?" and Charley went Dwight Schrute with, "I'm the assistant G.M.", prompting Ruben Amaro (the kid, not the dad) to burst in and exclaim, "I'm the assistant G.M. ... he's the special assistant to the G.M.!"
Admit it, America ... THAT woulda been cool -- almost as cool as when, during the '86 NLCS, Kerfeld -- a rookie reliever w/ Houston who enjoyed wearing his Jetsons t-shirt in the clubhouse -- couldn't close the deal against the Mets in one of those tense ballgames, so a newspaper writer offered up the punchline: "The Jetsons had a dog named Astro. The Astros have a dog named Charley Kerfeld."
In retrospect, Charlie Manuel would probably take umbrage to such anti-Charley negativity.
This is the kind of sensory overload that we must deal with until it is determined if the Phillies' Game 1 is in St. Petersburg or in Ben Affleck Stadium (Brick Myers is hoping against hope that it's NOT in Beantown because, as the Game 2 starter, he'd be required to pitch in the city where there was "an incident" -- or a "non-incident" -- and there's no way that he'd last long on Fenway's mound with the Chowds acting belligerent re: the "non-incident").
That boy needs to get his mind right w/o having his pitching vibe harshed.
As for the Dodjerks?
L.A.ter, Lost Angeles ...
b
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