The Phillies-Rockies series is half (or more) over, and the Yankees still haven’t played. If they hadn’t lost their spot as MLB’s Prime Time Team to the Red Sox, we’d be waiting even longer. But here they are, facing an Indians team that’s been underrated all season. It’s C.C. Sabathia for the Indians and Chien-Ming Wang for the Yankees. And your live blogger is the great Matt Sussman. Enjoy his comedic stylings after the jump.
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Bottom 1st
Wang’s first pitch … thwack, right on Grady Sizemore’s toesies. Asdrubal Cabrera — wasn’t he the cat from “The Smurfs?” — grounds into a double play, and all Sizemore has to show for his efforts is a hurty foot. Travis Hafner draws a 2-out walk, which is fortunate, because that’s also his running speed.
Top 1st
So, I promised myself I would keep the fat jokes to a minimum, but I just can’t help it. Before the game, catcher Victor Martinez gave Sabathia some control advice: just pretend that the strike zone is frosting. A 3-1 pitch to Johnny Damon is CRUSHED … deep … deep … foul. Foul!? Joe Torre doesn’t think so, so he comes out and makes his case about the physics of time and space. Chip Caray: “the first rhubarb of the series.” The first what? Now they discuss it and the umpires call it a home run. Eric Wedge comes out to complain. Logically, I assume this is the second rhubarb of the series.
Now I’m being told the Rockies/Phillies game is over. All you Chandler disciples better have moved your ass over here by now.
Derek Jeter pops out to second, but it was a clutch popout. Bobby Abreu turns a 1-2 count into a walk, and now some guy named Alex is batting. Sabathia’s starting to lose his control already. No, shoulder-high isn’t frosting. Shoulder-high is broccoli. Rodriguez, at one point in a 1-2 count himself, draws a walk. WHAT CLUTCHERINESS.
With C.C. already chucking 25 pitches, the coach comes out and sternly tells him about the concept of the “zone where strikes go” as Jorge Posada steps up to bat. He falls behind 2-0, then hurls three straight strikes. Mmm. delicious frosting. Matsui grounds out, and that’s the inning.
1 0
Pregame
Analysis of today’s game: expect an alternating pattern of “Major League” quotes, followed by “The Scout” quotes.
AccuScore forecasts that Shelley Duncan has a 26.9 percent chance of hitting a home run. And here I thought the dead lady from “Lamb Chop’s” was more of a contact hitter. The same baseball algorithm predicts that C.C. Sabathia’s hat has a 99.8 percent chance to, for the 220th straight game, annoy the ever loving shit out of me.
But I think the series is best summed up by the infamous “featured comment” on ESPN.com’s playoff series page:
“The playoffs are all about three things: (1) pitching, (2) pitching, and (3) pitching. Forget about the dominance of Sabathia and Carmona … and look at the Indians’ bullpen. No question which team has a major edge in pitching.”
So, it’s all about pitching, with the exception of the two best pitchers on the Indians.
Well, it’s 6:25, and the Phillies/Rockies isn’t over yet, so it sounds like the game’s going to start being showed on TNT. In the meantime, I could liveblog this episode of “Law & Order.” And I will. Hmmm, they appear to be interrogating a teenage Russian prostitute. This should be rather … [channel cuts to MLB coverage] … oh, hi Ernie Smith. Didn’t see ya there. Could you knock next time?!
The game announcers Tony Gwynn, Bob Brenly, and Chip Caray. Hey, I know all those people.
You might remember, back in March, when we wrote a daily column for NYTimes.com about the NCAA basketball tournament. Those columns ran back when they had TimesSelect over there, so you had to pay for them. Everything’s free over there now, which means not only can you read the old ones, you can read our brand new one, which starts today. It’s called Fair And Foul.
Essentially, they’re just hopefully amusing, insightful essays about the games we obsess over in the postseason. We’ll be filing pretty much every night about 2 a.m., which means, as always, the month of October will consist of as little sleep as possible. We hope you enjoy it … and it’s free now! Honest!
We’re not sure what possessed Freddie Falcon to smash a birthday cake into the face of an Atlanta Falcons cheerleader … but we don’t get the impression she was particularly happy about it.
As you may have heard by now, it seems that the November issue of Playboyhas just about something for everyone. Six-page nude pictorial on ex-Barry Bonds mistress Kimberly Bell? Check. Bell’s revelations about Bonds’ steroid use, including eyewitness testimony concerning his shrunken testicles? Check. Little Annie Fanny cartoon? Well, no; that’s been discontinued. Simply put, never before has one woman revealed so much in the pages of a magazine. Let’s get right to the action, shall we?
Their sex life really slumped, however, when Bonds started taking steroids, driven by jealousy after Mark McGwire began receiving piles of press for his pursuit of Roger Maris’ single-season home run record. Bell told Playboy that Bonds suffered from sexual dysfunction, one side effect of steroid use. He tried Viagra several times but didn’t like it because it affected his vision and stuffed up his nose.
His body had grown thicker, his back was pocked with acne, his hair had fallen out and his testicles had shriveled when Bonds asked his former mistress if she thought anyone would suspect he was on the juice. “Do I look bloated?” Bonds wanted to know. “Does it look funny? Do you think this is obvious?”
Bell also recounts that when Bonds first began taking steroids, his personality changed, and that she thought that his fits of rage were because he “had PMS, like a woman.” Woooeee. And you thought you were embarrassed when your ex-girlfriend outed your love of The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants on her Facebook page.
You can’t expect the Phillies’ top stars to go hitless again, but it’s clear that they’re in some serious trouble if they lose this game. It’s Franklin Morales for the Rockies and Kyle Kendrick for the Phillies, and if that doesn’t scream Playoff Baseball, we don’t know what does.
Your live blogger — who has reliable Internet access — is Deadspin associate editor Rick Chandler. Enjoy his excellence after the jump. And, of course, play along in the comments.
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Bottom Fifth, Rockies 6, Phillies 3
The Bourn Ultimatum: He lines out. One down.
Rollins grounds out to short. Two down.
Jose Mesa up in the pen for the Phillies. May God have mercy on us all.
Top Fifth, Rockies 6, Phillies 3
Due up against Lohse: Holliday, Helton, Atkins.
Holiday called out on strikes. The dreaded backwards K. One down.
So what is Helton wearing around his neck? A pacifier? Bathtub stopper?
Helton grounds out 3-1. Two down.
Atkins flies out to center. End of inning.
Bottom Fourth, Rockies 6, Phillies 3
Ground out. One down.
Josh Fogg is pitching, by the way. Pinch hitter Greg Dobbs flies out. Two down.
Carlos Ruiz flies out to left, as Spilborgh makes a sliding catch. End of inning.
Top Fourth, Phillies 3, Rockies 2
Atkins, who looks like a middle school math teacher, doubles to left-center to lead off.
Hawpe flies out to the wall in left. One out, runner on second. Rockies are 0-for-4 with runners in scoring position.
Spilborghs jammed on the hands on a high fastball, and pops out to first. Two down.
First base open, pitcher on deck … and they’re pitching to Torrealba. Let’s watch the fun.
With the count 2-0, they walk Torrealba. Seth Smith — the very best player in the National League named Seth — will pinch hit. This ends your Franklin Morales broadcasting day.
Smith hits a slow roller toward third, and the charging Helms can’t grip it, all are safe. Just the way they did it with the Colorado Springs Sky Sox! Bases loaded, two out. It looks like we’re going to have a pitching change. Which means it’s time for another Sonic commercial.
Kyle Lohse is your guest pitcher. Taz Matsui is your hitter.
Matsui lines one down the right-field line … FOUL
Kaz Matsui has Meat Rage! Grand slam, into the stands in right. Rockies lead 6-3.
Hey, I missed an out. Inning over.
Bottom Third, Phillies 3, Rockies 2
Here’s a fun fact: The Phillies have the highest stolen base percentage in baseball. 139/157, .878. Does this eem right?
Pat Burrel lines out to center. One down.
Ryan Howard is hit by a pitch on an 0-2 count. Hit him on the hand. He appears to be … OK. Ryan Howard WILL be at the dance tonight, girls. He will be there.
Morales picks off Howard at first. I’ve seen pickoffs before, but Howard was so fooled Morales could have thrown it underhand. Two down.
Fly ball to center. End of inning.
Top Third, Phillies 3, Rockies 2
It’s Kaz Matsui time.
Matsui plays wall ball in center. It’s off the padding, and Matsui cruises into second with a double. This game could go 4 hours.
Full count to Tulowitzki.
Tul-la-lu-la-witzki, Tul-la-lul-la-la, Tu-la-lul-la-witzki, it’s an Irish, lula-byyyyyy … Oh, he struck out. One out.
Holliday grounds to third, Two down.
Why is Lohse warming up? This seems unwise.
Todd Helton flies out to one of those positions out there. Inning over.
Bottom Second, Rockies 2, Phillies 1
Werth strike sout. One down. Time for the awesome power of Wes Helms.
Full count to Helms. Ball four in the dirt.
Morales went to his mouth while on the mound, so a ball is added to the count. 2-1 count to Ruiz
Ruiz doubles to right-center, over Spilbors’ head on the warning track. Runners on second and third. One out.
Kenrick at the plate. Ball one.
Kendrick grounds out to second, but runners don’t advance. That ball was hit s-l-o-w-l-y, but Helms didn’t try it from third.
Rollins at the plate.
Rollins to the gap in left-center, two runs score! A standup triple! The chants of MVP begin, naturally. A high breaking ball, which in retrospect which was unwise.
Chase Utley will now be your batter.
Utley flies out to center for the third out.
TOP 2nd, ROCKIES 2, PHILLIES 1
Brade Hawpe leads off for Rockies as we try the top-to-bottom format! Blogging is fun!
Hawpe walks.
Spilbors grounds to short, force at second, throw to first is wide. Runner on first with one out.
It’s YORVIT TIME.
Holliday is still wearing his chin strawberry, I see. The Rockies should market press-on chin strawberries. I’d buy one.
Torrealba flies out to center. Two down.
Morales at the plate. I expect nothing less than a homer.
Morale sstrikes out, crushing the dreams og young Rockies fans everywhere. Third out.
ROCKIES 2, PHILLIES 1
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Dane Cook has admonished me to be a true fan, and I have Meat rage. Also I’ve taken off my long sleeves. Let’s kick the tires and light the fires.
Kaz Matsui starts it off for the Rockies. Top first. Let’s go. Ready to work against Kyle Kendrick. Ball one? I’m outraged!
Matsui ground ball out. Troy Tulowitzki hits a ball off of a woman’s wheel chair in left center. Well, it didn’t hit a wheelchair, it appears to be a flower pot. Home run! Manuel comes out to argue but it’s 1-0, Rockies.
Matt Holliday proves that John Denver’s Heavenly influence is still strong. Home run to deep left. 2-0 Rockies.
Helton pops out, F5. Two down.
Fly out to right.
BEGIN BOTTOM 1st, ROCKIES 2, PHILLIES 0
Rollins home run to left … high fastball. 2-1 Rockies. I’m not making this up, people!
Morales wears No. 56 … high numbers make me think of spring training. Also so does three homers in the first 1 1/3 innings.
Chase Utley strikes out. One down.
Burrell crushes one, but foul. Ball four. Howard strides to the plate. Time to order a pizza.
Someone is finally pitching fron the stretch! Howard strikes out swininging, 96 MPH at the belt. Two down.
Big Daddy Drew’s Thursday Afternoon NFL Dick Joke Jamboroo previews the upcoming weekend of the NFL every, well, every Thursday afternoon.
Ever since I was a kid, I dreamed of playing quarterback. Hell, I still dream about it. In an alternate dimension, I’ve already led the Vikings to six world titles. AND I did it all on a broken ankle. I also own an oceanside condo in Laguna Beach, which I share with Marisa Miller. It’s a really nice time. Clooney’s coming over Tuesday. You should drop by for some witty banter and a glass of Disaronno if you like.
Anyway, back here in reality … In the spring of my senior year, I was accepted to the University of Michigan. It was the only school I got into. No other university saw my raw potential. Nor were they awed that I could eat 12 turkey drumsticks in a single sitting. A pity for them. I spent the majority of senior spring imagining myself getting into killer shape (only when I got to Michigan, not any sooner), learning to throw a perfect spiral and walking on to the team as a latter day Johnny U. I’d blow away the coaches, win four national titles and be elected honorary President of every fraternity on campus, even the black ones that didn’t allow pledges to speak to white people. I thought it was a really killer plan.
Things didn’t quite work out that way. For one, I never got into shape. Blimpy Burger will do that to you. (I liked mine with a fried egg on top!) More important, I couldn’t throw a football. Still can’t. I can’t throw one more than 20 yards. Sometimes I’ll wind up with all my might and think to myself YES, this will be the throw that goes 80 yards. It usually lands a good 20 feet from my friend Jeremy’s feet. I didn’t walk onto the Michigan team. I didn’t even come close to trying. I got a hernia instead. I transferred after one semester, which opened the door for a certain fellow by the name of Tom Brady. You’re welcome, Dreamboat.
Ah, but the dream lives on. I want to be a QB not because I love the game, but because I like to imagine the money, and the drugs and the incredible amount of available poon at my disposal. Can’t beat that. But mostly, I want to be a QB so I can talk like one.
You ever hear a QB bark orders at the line of scrimmage? Fuck, I want to do that. No wonder Peyton Manning takes forever to call a goddamn play. He’s relishing the chance to bark out random words as only a quarterback can. You get to drop your voice an octave and get all raspy, and no one questions it. BLUE 59 RAZOR! BLUE 59 RAZOR! SET, HUT! HUUUUUUUUUT! HUT! God, that is sweet.
I played JV football for, like, 10 years. And I could always tell that the kid who played QB was fucking jazzed to start talking like that. ALABAMA! ALABAMA! READYSET! That was the quick snap. Awesome. Defensive players would get in on it too. If they saw a pass, you bet you your ass all of them would yell PASSSSSS! at the top of their lungs. Same with SCREEN!s. And if the offense was unbalanced? Holy shit, that was bliss. UNBALANCED! UNBALANCED! UNBALANCED, MOTHERFUCKER!
Sometimes they’d get fooled. Especially on REVERSE REVERSE HOLY FUCK IT’S A REVERSE! NO, WAIT! PASS! PASSSSSSSSS!
You see those old NFL Films of QB’s at the line, and you can tell they just know they look badass doing that shit. I totally want to do that. The closest I ever came was when I worked as a busboy at an Austrian restaurant in Connecticut run by a man who was an obvious descendant of Hitler. Customers couldn’t hear you in the kitchen, so I’d run in and shout out the orders in my best QB bark:
“TWO SOUP! TWO CAESAR! AND A MELON WITH PROSCIUTTO, BITCH!”
I was never asked back to that job. It wasn’t the same as playing QB anyway. So I dream on. I’m not a quarterback. But I’ll be coaching Pop Warner some day. And you can bet your ass I’m gonna show some dipshit nine-year-old how to talk like one. Then he’ll outthrow me by 50 yards. Little prick.
The Games
All games in the Jamboroo are evaluated for sheer watchability on a scale of 1 to 5 Throwgasms.
Five Throwgasms
Bucs at Colts: Like Cher, you can’t stop Jeff Garcia from making a red hot comeback. To beat the Colts, the Bucs will deploy Michael Pittman and Earnest Graham in the place of injured Cadillac Williams. Few people know that Earnest Graham is the son of Earnest Byner and Scottie Graham. Byner is one of the more skilled bottoms among NFL alumni.
Four Throwgasms
Chargers at Broncos: Records suggest this isn’t the most compelling matchup of the week. But this is the last stand for the Chargers. I’m expecting them to show a lot of… what’s the opposite of resilience? As for the Broncos, Jay Cutler’s parents apparently got into quite the spat during last week’s Colts game. Is this the week that they have angry hate sex in front of the Bronco Brat vendor? I’ll have my fly unzipped just in case.
Seahawks at Steelers: It’s a rematch! Seattle looks to redeem itself after a controversial loss in the Super Bowl two years ago. Will they get revenge? Well, of course not. I mean, Christ, this is just a regular season game. That other game was the goddamn Super Bowl. That opportunity has long since passed, Hawks fans. You lost. Forever. But hey, you’ll always have Mudhoney!
Browns at Patriots: Is Derek Anderson for real? If so, it would be the final humiliation for Brady Quinn. God, I hope he’s for real.
Three Throwgasms
Jets at Giants: Bridge vs. Tunnel! Winner gets a month’s supply of Dep, Van Heusen dress shirts, and Lee Press-On Nails!
Bears at Packers Lions at Redskins
Two Throwgasms:
Falcons at Titans: Michael Jenkins and Roddy White have somewhat flourished with Joey Harrington throwing them the ball. So Falcon fans, you can thank the Federal government now for sparing you from seven additional years of Michael Vick learning to “grasp” the pro-style offense.
Jags at Chiefs Panthers at Saints
One Throwgasm:
Dolphins at Texans: This game’s uglier than the lady in the HughesNet ads. I’ll bet anything the chick in those ads is the CEO’s second wife.
Cowboys at Bills: Speaking of ads, you’ll probably see a lot of the new Miller Lite campaign during this blowout. It features John McGinley as commissioner of the More Taste League. I’m not quite sure how improved taste works in a league format, or why that league would require oversight from a commissioner. All I know is that Miller Lite would be the Buffalo of this league: shitty, colorless, and with nothing but lonely fatasses supporting it.
Cardinals at Rams: Leinart vs. Warner. Blue state vs. Red state. Young vs. Old. Illegitimate children vs. Stepchildren. Douchebag vs. Tightass. Too long holding onto the ball vs. Much too long holding onto the ball. Scary diseases vs. Scary wife. Annoyingly shallow vs. Annoyingly deep. Whining to Internet reporters vs. Whining to talk radio. WHO YA GOT?!
Ravens at Niners: Dilfer’s Revenge! Brian Billick, did you think you could just leave Trent Dilfer for dead and get away with it? Dilfer will have the last laugh on you and your stupid fucking straw hat! Only Greg Norman can get away with that look! Prepare for a taste of fire!
Five Players Who Could Fuck Your Fantasy Team Over
Five Players You Might Want To Think About Starting, Only To Have Them Screw You Regardless Of What You End Up Choosing To Do
These sections are being discontinued. You’re not going to listen to my start/sit recommendations. Hell, even I don’t listen to them. Last week, I suggested starting Cedric Benson and Brian Griese. You didn’t need to read that. That was extremely unnecessary. Frankly, the only reason I wrote these was because I’ll read any start/sit section on any site, no matter how stupid the advice is. It’s just a nice time-filler. But I’m sick of looking at the schedule and trying to randomly pick a player who I think has a decent matchup. That’s way too much research, and I’m not doing research for the $3 a week that Gawker Media pays me, especially when I have to fill out so many forms in order to get said $3. You hear me, Denton? I read you’re worth $280 million. Drew wants his piece of the pie, you rich fuck.
But I’m not here to shortchange you, darling reader. I have a replacement section ready to go, and here it is…
Pregame Song That Makes Me Want To Run Through A Goddamn Brick Wall
I’m not here to try and impress you with my musical taste. I still have four Jamiroquai songs on my iPod. I can’t get enough of that crazy Jay Kay, with his funky beats and large headwear. He also pioneered the art of walking on conveyor belts in music videos. Suck on that, OK Go! Sometimes, when I’ve had one mai tai too many, I crank up “Cosmic Girl” and prance around my house in a pink silk teddy. I make a prettier girl than Oscar De La Hoya, that’s for goddamn sure. In prep school, I took naps while playing the “Fantasia” soundtrack in my dorm room. Ever masturbate to “Night On Bald Mountain”? It’s quite thrilling. I liked to pretend my penis was the winged demon coming out of the mountaintop. I think my penis makes a great villain. But I may be unique in that regard.
So no, I don’t have the world’s greatest taste in music, nor do I fancy myself as such. I’m not going to try and be Zach Braff here and dazzle you with my love of the Shins, or some other assemblage of twee buttfuckers. I am strictly here to bring you the RAWK. With lots of loud guitars (and double guitars!). This week’s pregame song is “How to Handle A Rope” by Queens Of The Stone Age.
I spend a lot of time each day having to endure the children’s music my daughter listens to. Shit like this. After listening to this soul-crushing crap for two hours each day, I feel compelled to listen to the darkest, most sinister music I can find. And this song fits the bill. “I’d rather open up my wrist, let it go”? Oh yeah, baby. I am so THERE. The riff also fucking owns. It’s like: duh-duh-duh-duh-DUH-duh-DUUUUUUUUUUUH-duh. When I imagine myself as a rock star while riding the elliptical, I play this riff spectacularly. I get lots of titflashes on that one.
Five Potential Key Injuries
• Cadillac Williams (rear suspension - HEY-O!)
• Tom Brady (bounty)
• Marvin Harrison (insecure sexuality)
• Alex Smith (shoulder goblin)
• Brian Leonard (white)
This Week’s Suicide Pick
Last week’s suicide pool pick of Dallas was correct. Off the board now are Seattle, Denver, Dallas and New England. We again pick a suicide pool team and a way of committing actual suicide. This week’s pick: Green Bay, and trapping yourself under a portcullis. I’m a big portcullis fan. When I sell the right to the Jamboroo to Google for $250 million, my Scottish castle will have a portcullis in every doorway. I want to keep the help on their toes.
Gametime Snack Of The Week
Barbecue potato chips. Jesus, I could eat these things by the case. A lot of people throw out the bag of chips once there are nothing but crumbs left. DON’T! I’m a big believer in the mixture of chip crumbs and powdered barbecue residue at the bottom of every bag. I just pour it right into my mouth. It’s good because it tastes like salt!
We never keep barbecue potato chips in the house, which is a wise move. But if I see a bowl at a picnic or something, I am on it like Vick on weed. I’ll just camp out right next to the bowl. Sometimes I’ll eat 10 at a time. They’re crunchier in greater volume. Sometimes the BBQ coating gets trapped under my nails. That makes for an extra special treat later in the day.
Gametime Cheap Beer Of The Week
Keystone Light. Large companies like to spend millions of dollars in focus group research for the explicit purpose of determining what is known as a Brand Proposition. The Brand Proposition presents a specific problem the customer has that your product can help solve. Now, I find it hard to believe that thousands of focus group subjects all told the Keystone Brewing Company, “You know what my problem is? It’s this darn bitter beer! It causes cartoonish facial deformities in both me and my dog!” I don’t ever remember bitter beer face being such a horrible epidemic. And I find it even more incredulous that Keystone, which is a fucking disgusting beer, would be the one beer that could solve that problem. Drinking Keystone makes my asshole pucker.
Sunday Afternoon Film Of The Week For Rams Fans
One False Move, written by Billy Bob Thornton and starring Billy Bob Thornton in the role he was born to play: Shady Drug Dealer With Rattail.
Anyway, for those of you that haven’t seen it, One False Move is a very light-hearted, feel-good road comedy, with a hilarious opening sequence where three drug dealers enter the house of a delinquent user. Do some wacky misunderstandings occur? You bet! A woman gets slapped until blood pours out of her mouth. A man gets suffocated with a plastic bag. And another woman, as she pleads for her life, is stabbed to death. It’s a hoot!
Don’t forget to stick around for the utterly devastating ending. It’ll make you happy to be alive!
Gratuitous Simpsons Quote
“Oooh! Fiddledeedee! That will require a tetanus shot! I’m not going to swear… BUT I AM GOING TO KICK THIS DOGHOUSE DOWN!”
Halftime Masturbation Kit
• For the guys: Yvonne Strahovski, who plays the lead female role on that show Chuck. That’s actually a stage name Yvonne is using. Her real name is Yvonne Strzechowski. Let me offer a quick word of advice to all you aspiring actresses out there. If you have an incredibly confusing, Krzyzewski-style Polish name and you want to use a stage name, don’t half-ass it. Yvonne’s stage name is barely different, and just as difficult to Google. Why not go with Yvonne Jones? Or Yvonne Firmness? Or Frenchie Johnson? Please make your new name as easy to search as possible for us American masturbators. Thanks.
• For the gals: A young and shirtless Peter Gallagher. Little known fact: when Peter Gallagher cocks an eyebrow, it shows up on air traffic control radar.
Blatantly False, ProFootballTalk-Style, Fred Edelstein-esque Rumor Of The Week
WE HEAR… that Vikings coach Brad Childress ALSO enjoys masturbating to “A Night On Bald Mountain.”
Three Questions Sideline Reporters Should Ask But Won’t
• “Matt Leinart! Paul Zimmerman here. Why badmouth your team over a glass of Sauvignon Blanc? Why not a Pinot Grigio? I know wine!”
• “Eli, is Matt Ufford as smug and self-assured in person as I’ve heard?”
• “Tony Romo! Michele Tafoya. Will you bear me a second child while I’m still drunk?”
Your Motivational Pregame Quote for The Weekend
“See, you sat in the right seat because, when the show don’t be funny, I take my dick out and piss. So this is called the Garden Row.” -Richard Pryor
Because we are committed to the month of October affording us as little sleep as possible, we stayed up and watched the whole Cubs-Diamondbacks game last night, and we don’t quite understand all the fuss about Lou Piniella pulling Carlos Zambrano after the sixth inning.
Sure, Zambrano had looked great. But so had Brandon Webb, who’s the real reason Arizona won. Zambrano is notoriously fragile in the brain, and giving up the winning run might have caused him more trouble than overextending his arm might have. Also, Carlos Marmol is awesome, though he wasn’t last night. It just didn’t work out that way.
Do you really want a guy like the Dustbag, who can only think one game (hell, one minute) at a time, or do you want someone who can see the big picture? Lou knows, that if our hitters start hitting, there WILL be a Game 4, and we are actually set up better for Game 4 than if he wrung Zambrano out for every last pitch he had. He also knows what he has with Marmol, and maybe when the chests get tight and men reach for their nutsacks, maybe instead of reflexively reaching for Marmol, he insteads opts for Wood or Howry.
We are a bit bewildered by the histrionics of Piniella’s move. Of the three teams who lost yesterday, the Cubs would seem to be in the best shape. The Phillies are down 1-0 at home, and the Angels just looked bedazzled. The Cubs lost to the best pitcher in baseball. It happens. Now if they lose tonight, it’s probably time to freak out. Not that Cubs fans would ever do that.
0
You might remember, back in March, when we wrote 
As you may have heard by now, it seems that the November issue of Playboy 
Big Daddy Drew’s Thursday Afternoon NFL Dick Joke Jamboroo previews the upcoming weekend of the NFL every, well, every Thursday afternoon.
The “votes” are “in,” and the President of Red Sox Nation is … 
Because we are committed to the month of October affording us as little sleep as possible, we stayed up and watched the whole Cubs-Diamondbacks game last night, and we don’t quite understand all the fuss about Lou Piniella pulling Carlos Zambrano after the sixth inning.
