Marc
I should stop waking my child up in the morning? I tried that the next day. Here's what happened: She slept until 5pm. She missed school altogether. I asked her why she bothered to get up at five. Why not sleep through? She said she didn't want to miss dinner. I said, "What do you think this is, the night flight to Paris?" -- Tony Kornheiser on advice for his daughter as she enters college, in I'm Back for More Cash
Omaha, Nebraska
Preface. This post is dedicated to the Cubs. Zach and I talked for a minute after the Farnsworth beatdown against that Reds pitcher, and it got me thinking about the season so far.
One. Dusty Baker. I love this man. I think it took a lot of guts for a guy who's as well-respected, and as successful as Baker is, to take over a team like the Chicago Cubs. Why did he do it? I remember someone asking him that after last season, and his answer basically consisted of a few words about how awesome it would be to be the guy who manages the Cubs to a World Series victory. Sure, there's a certain amount of glory-searching in that, but I'll take it. After all, no matter how good they're doing now, it's the Cubs. We've been cursed. I like the way Baker handles himself, cause he mostly comes off as this straight up, cool type of guy. Toothpick. Glasses. Just kind of there all the time, but not in that Don Baylor way where's he's letting his team run it into the ground. He lets these guys know what to do, and lets them know what he expects of them, and lets it go from there. I, for one, hope he's around for a long, long time.
Two. Sammy Sosa. I've not always been his biggest fan, but I've never had anything against him, either. A few years ago, I was constantly frustrated with the number of solo home runs he hit, but that was before I realized it was because no one was getting on base in front of him. He could be stronger in the clutch. That's a certainty, but I can only imagine what's going to happen to this team if his bat starts to get hot. The rest of the team has kept ahead in the NLCentral race without him for most of the last month and a half, even when he was playing. If he gets going, we'll be damn near unstoppable. Beyond all that, I'm sick to death of hearing about his corked bat. Sure, it was suprising. Sure, it kind of sucked to see that it had happened - intentional or not. But, if I have to watch another ESPN or FOXSports broadcast of a Cubs game and hear about how it's ruined the game of baseball forever and ever and ever, I'm going to stick a foot right through my television. It's over and done with, as the Proclaimers would say. Let it be. Thank you, Mr. McCartney.
Three. The pitching, including Farnsworth. Zach called me this afternoon to tell me to turn on the game, though that was a bit difficult as I was in a car, carreening towards the geographical center of nowhere Iowa. But I was listening to ESPN Radio, and I was trying to imagine what Farnsworth's tackle looked like. Not until I saw the highlight did Zach's description of it take true form. He f*in pummelled that guy. Just like the rest of the pitching staff is pummelling most of the teams they're facing. Kerry Woods and Mark Prior are awesome. Hands down two of the top guys in the NL. More importantly, I'm suprised at how good Estes and Zambrano have pitched at times. Clement has his on days and his off days, and we can only hope he picks it up in the second half. But, damn, I'll take my chances with any of those guys any day of the week. The starters, the relievers -- Remlinger! Farnsworth! Wellemeyer! And, it still fills me with joy to write this name, BOROWSKI! A fucking closer! Not since Mitch Williams have I felt this secure in someone closing out a game. If they had more run support from the offense, we'll (again) be damn near unstoppable.
Four. Mark Bellhorn. Is it significant that, in the year Ron Santo gets his other leg lopped off, the Cubs again fail to fill the hole at third base? Is it symbolic at all? Santo, up in the booth at every game, staring down at that bag just thinking to himself, if only it were during my days, we'd make a run out of this. Why can't Bellhorn hit? Why does it look like he doesn't even care? His fielding's fine, as far as I can tell. I mean, who am I to criticize a major leaguer with my limited third base experience -- four years of Little League until I quit, mainly because I was afraid of the ball. It's just that Bellhorn, for as high as he was touted in Spring Training, is a disasterous guy to watch on television. Seeing him shrug off every easy ground ball he hits, or ever three strikes that he misses, saps all the energy out of me ... every time. It's unnerving. And I know it's not just me. I know you can't expect a guy to hit all of the balls all of the time. I know you can't expect someone to hit some of the balls some of the time. Can't I expect Bellhorn to get an occassional hit every once in a while? That's not too much to ask, is it?
Up Next: The College World Series on ESPN or wafting across the river through my open hotel window -- whichever comes first; Here, My Dear by Marvin Gaye; and, I'm Back for More Cash by Tony Kornheiser
Tomorrow: Overton, Iowa. Omaha Airport. Chicago. Normal.
I should stop waking my child up in the morning? I tried that the next day. Here's what happened: She slept until 5pm. She missed school altogether. I asked her why she bothered to get up at five. Why not sleep through? She said she didn't want to miss dinner. I said, "What do you think this is, the night flight to Paris?" -- Tony Kornheiser on advice for his daughter as she enters college, in I'm Back for More Cash
Omaha, Nebraska
Preface. This post is dedicated to the Cubs. Zach and I talked for a minute after the Farnsworth beatdown against that Reds pitcher, and it got me thinking about the season so far.
One. Dusty Baker. I love this man. I think it took a lot of guts for a guy who's as well-respected, and as successful as Baker is, to take over a team like the Chicago Cubs. Why did he do it? I remember someone asking him that after last season, and his answer basically consisted of a few words about how awesome it would be to be the guy who manages the Cubs to a World Series victory. Sure, there's a certain amount of glory-searching in that, but I'll take it. After all, no matter how good they're doing now, it's the Cubs. We've been cursed. I like the way Baker handles himself, cause he mostly comes off as this straight up, cool type of guy. Toothpick. Glasses. Just kind of there all the time, but not in that Don Baylor way where's he's letting his team run it into the ground. He lets these guys know what to do, and lets them know what he expects of them, and lets it go from there. I, for one, hope he's around for a long, long time.
Two. Sammy Sosa. I've not always been his biggest fan, but I've never had anything against him, either. A few years ago, I was constantly frustrated with the number of solo home runs he hit, but that was before I realized it was because no one was getting on base in front of him. He could be stronger in the clutch. That's a certainty, but I can only imagine what's going to happen to this team if his bat starts to get hot. The rest of the team has kept ahead in the NLCentral race without him for most of the last month and a half, even when he was playing. If he gets going, we'll be damn near unstoppable. Beyond all that, I'm sick to death of hearing about his corked bat. Sure, it was suprising. Sure, it kind of sucked to see that it had happened - intentional or not. But, if I have to watch another ESPN or FOXSports broadcast of a Cubs game and hear about how it's ruined the game of baseball forever and ever and ever, I'm going to stick a foot right through my television. It's over and done with, as the Proclaimers would say. Let it be. Thank you, Mr. McCartney.
Three. The pitching, including Farnsworth. Zach called me this afternoon to tell me to turn on the game, though that was a bit difficult as I was in a car, carreening towards the geographical center of nowhere Iowa. But I was listening to ESPN Radio, and I was trying to imagine what Farnsworth's tackle looked like. Not until I saw the highlight did Zach's description of it take true form. He f*in pummelled that guy. Just like the rest of the pitching staff is pummelling most of the teams they're facing. Kerry Woods and Mark Prior are awesome. Hands down two of the top guys in the NL. More importantly, I'm suprised at how good Estes and Zambrano have pitched at times. Clement has his on days and his off days, and we can only hope he picks it up in the second half. But, damn, I'll take my chances with any of those guys any day of the week. The starters, the relievers -- Remlinger! Farnsworth! Wellemeyer! And, it still fills me with joy to write this name, BOROWSKI! A fucking closer! Not since Mitch Williams have I felt this secure in someone closing out a game. If they had more run support from the offense, we'll (again) be damn near unstoppable.
Four. Mark Bellhorn. Is it significant that, in the year Ron Santo gets his other leg lopped off, the Cubs again fail to fill the hole at third base? Is it symbolic at all? Santo, up in the booth at every game, staring down at that bag just thinking to himself, if only it were during my days, we'd make a run out of this. Why can't Bellhorn hit? Why does it look like he doesn't even care? His fielding's fine, as far as I can tell. I mean, who am I to criticize a major leaguer with my limited third base experience -- four years of Little League until I quit, mainly because I was afraid of the ball. It's just that Bellhorn, for as high as he was touted in Spring Training, is a disasterous guy to watch on television. Seeing him shrug off every easy ground ball he hits, or ever three strikes that he misses, saps all the energy out of me ... every time. It's unnerving. And I know it's not just me. I know you can't expect a guy to hit all of the balls all of the time. I know you can't expect someone to hit some of the balls some of the time. Can't I expect Bellhorn to get an occassional hit every once in a while? That's not too much to ask, is it?
Up Next: The College World Series on ESPN or wafting across the river through my open hotel window -- whichever comes first; Here, My Dear by Marvin Gaye; and, I'm Back for More Cash by Tony Kornheiser
Tomorrow: Overton, Iowa. Omaha Airport. Chicago. Normal.
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