Friday, October 21, 2005
however little we know your Gospel,
it is light in our midst.
However little we grasp your presence,
it is light for us.
We search for you, Jesus, the Christ,
sometimes with uncertain steps,
but you have already come.
You bring light into our anxiousness.
we would never want to choose darkness
but always welcome your inner life.
~brother roger of taize, life from within
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
bottom of 5
you know your team is in trouble when you get overly excited about an HBP. oswalt looks unhittable.
first and second, no out. i'm going to follow rick's advice and think happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts...
(marginal note: i can't believe fox just drew attention to their dumb-ass "right now!" box by playing that stupid, we substituted substance abuse for social justice song by van halen).
and it's...another blown call. everett clearly missed molina. in these instances, where the umpire has absolutely no angle on the play, he should be allowed to ask the first base umpire, who had a perfect angle on the play, for assistance. dumb-ass union monkey.
okay. 3-1 is a hell of a lot better than 3-0.
that's the stupidest comment i have ever made.
you'd think that on a day like today, when i got a promotion at lifeway, probably sold the corolla, completed a ball-busting take home exam for a seminary class and am sitting on my couch with a beer in my hand and dog at my feet, i'd be a little more optimistic. so i'm doin' it. if karma works for earl, optimism will work for me!
good at bat for eckstein. he struck out, but he made him work. little by little. little by little.
top of 6
is there anything less compelling than an in-dugout interview with tony larussa? i think he would rather eat meat than talk to thom brennaman in the midst of a tight playoff game.
why do they have to put the in-dugout microphones on idiots? earlier, brandon backe noted that "the walk from the mound is the loneliest walk in the world. i don't care if i done good or not. i hate bein' pulled." jeff bagwell is sitting in that dugout, doing nothing, and you choose to mike the likes of brandon backe? come on! (of course, this entire argument would be unnecessary if fox pinched their penchant for stupid gimmicks (i.e., scooter, right now!, diamond cam, fan cam, manager interviews, etc.), of which dugout mikes are only a part.
you can't scheme a schemer! except when you can. that squeeze was huge.
bottom of 6
okay, the gig is up. edmonds, walker and sanders cannot catch up to a 97 mile an hour fastball anymore. or a 95 mile an hour fastball for that matter. this team has some major re-tooling to do over the winter. i told rick that if we don't win this year, we won't win for 7 or 8 years. i'm not the prophet or the son of a prophet, but...
i think pitching to pujols with one out and no one on bat is foolish.
i told you i wasn't a prophet. oswalt just stole albert's milk money.
that oswalt is one cool customer. he's a consistent, understated and sane version of prior. ugh.
top of 7
i found this incredible picture of gate 5 at bush on the nyt website this morning. i found it strangely touching. it also provoked the following top 5 lists.
top five moments at busch stadium:
watching the cardinals whip the cubs to secure the 1985 national league east title
sitting five rows from the field on a beautiful sunday that also happened to be the last regular season game at busch
willie mcgee's ninth inning walk-off homer on opening day in 1997
the "brawl" that was precipitated by will
watching the cardinals whip the padres to win the first game in the 1997 nlcs
holy shit. when it rains it pours. they're chilling champagne in the visitor's locker-room right now.
bottom five moments at busch stadium:
making vicious fun of tony gwynn throughout the aforementioned game and laughing when somebody threw a twinkie at him
getting douched with beer in the right field, upper mezzanine section when i was nine years old. did i mention that i was wearing my brand-new satin bullpen jacket (oh yeah, i still have it)
having frank thomas' foul ball (it was an interleague game) bounce of my hand and into the hand of the guy sitting next to me. that was the closest i ever came
the day that our greedy, bob dole votin' owners push the self-destruct button on my youth. "it'll increase attendance." we drew over three million almost every year! "it will revitalize downtown!" yeah, for people who are seeking jobs with aramark or sports' service. "the ballpark village will be a year around draw!" yeah, just like the half-vacated union station. fuckers.
even tony realizes reggie can't catch up to that heat. hello so!
can i add another one to my top five? every moment i spent at the stadium with my grandfather. earlier this year he tried to convince me that i had attended a game at sportsman's park with him in the early sixties. i almost didn't have the heart to tell him that i wasn't alive then. it was one of those rare, advanced age moments that are truly memorable.top 8
spent monkeying around with blogger's font formatting. insert curseword: _________.
if we could have taken 2 out of 3 from houston during the last week of the season, things could have been different.
i can't find it in me to hate craig biggio. but hating the fact that someone wrote a haray caray, a fired cards broadcaster by the way, quote on the walls of busch stadium comes naturally.
if we have to end it now, i'm glad we're ending it at busch.
enjoy retirement larry walker. thanks for playing with a bulging disk and enduring the cortizone shots.
for the record: i'm rooting for the white sox and trusting that the final send off will be respectable.
there it is. congratulations astros. but i hope drayton mcclain chokes on his reprocessed meat.
there's no crying in baseball. no crying.
does somebody need to tell tom brennaman that shoeless joe has been dead for 50 years?
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
Monday, October 17, 2005
memorandum from captain random: do or die edition
if the cardinals blow this one, i'm going to hit an eight-ball and burn down those damn crawford boxes. in fact, while i'm at it, i might burn the other crawford - that abomination of desolation - down as well.
top of the seventh
on the red wall behind our black couch, i am keeping a list of people to kill. at the top of my list are two fox commentators. three ryan dobson stickers will be awarded to the first person to guess who these two "broadcasting professionals" are (for the record, i do not consider "scooter" a color commentator).
as much as i bitch about my life on this blog, i should probably mention when things go well...on that note, pettitte just picked eckstein of with the most illicit move i have ever seen. that move would be called a balk in babe ruth league. i can't believe they let that, um, motherfucking broadman & holman author get away with that! anyway, today i ground out four and half hours at work, helped phil wyman and his team set up a massive stage in salem for their haunted happenings outreach, was greeted with squeals of delight and hugs when i returned to the afterschool program after a two week absence and spent two and a half hours at the bev library falling further in love with n.t. wright (his nuanced, thoroughgoing understanding on the kingdom of God, as put forth in Jesus and the Victory of God continues to impress me). when i returned from the library, hopped up on caffeine and hungry for dinner, i found that kellie and her parents were watching scarface, which they thought featured less nasty language and violence than goodfellas. that killed me. of course, the cardinals could ruin it all, but that remains to be seen.
bottom of the seventh
if the cardinals lose this series, i'm going to remember two major base running gaffes. the first was pujols going on contact with no outs last night and the second will be eckstein getting "balked off" in the top frame. of course, i'll also remember our manager and all-star centerfielder acting like adolescents in the late innings of a must-win game, but i don't want to talk about that.
if i was an angels or an astros fan, i think i would have to strangle myself with a rally monkey or hurl myself off of the crawford boxes. is there another group of fans that pair such extraordinary enthusiasm with such unsurpassed baseball ignorance? i didn't think so.
burke singled. runners at first and third with one out. come on, berkman, roll into a double play.
holy shit. that all-league flag football player just broke my heart.
so many people give me shit for my pessimism. but scoff all you want, dear friends. pessimism softens the blow.
top of the eighth
wouldn't you assign a prisoner with a tatooed map of the facility to perpetual solitary confinement?
four outs to go and the commentators are defending the legitimacy of berkman's 337 foot home run. inappropriate comment deleted.
three up, three down. i'm going down to the basement to swipe some of james' methyl alcohol.
bottom of the eighth
i got nothing.
the umpiring has been woefully inconsistent this post-season. i think it's time to bust up the union.
now they're showing pictures of the new busch stadium. pour on the salt guys, pour it on.
top of the ninth
can we say die?
you gotta love eckstein. taking what he can get, even when it doesn't really matter. he's been one of the brightest spots of this season.
edmonds. one runner on, we're down to our last out nad pujols is coming up behind you. lean into it!
they're giving us just enough rope to hang ourselves. prove me wrong, pujols, you true believer. prove me wrong.
holy fucking shit. holy fucking shit.
bottom of the ninth
the cardinals haven't had a home run of that magnitude in 20 years (ozzie smith, 1985 n.l.c.s.. can we say go crazy, folks. go crazy!?)
two away. convulsions are starting.
alex just made a great point. if jeter had hit that homerun or a certain half-crippled first baseman smoked a shot off of the american league's best closer, the commentators would have gone crazy. as it was, it sounded like they were disappointed that they will have to miss their complimentary halliburton tour tomorrow.
holy fucking shit.