Mistakes happen. Everyone has a bad day now and then. I’ll do better next time. Combine these thoughts with a genuine I’m sorry and, in the real world, all are perfectly valid responses to failures. And, chances are, your boss’ annoyance will blow over, you’ll learn from your mistake and continue on with your work becoming an even stronger employee for the educational experience. …except when times are tough and, for better or worse, things are coming to an end.
I started working for a well known mortgage bank in 2006, when the industry was still flush. I stayed with that same company for the next four years through a lot of…ah…well…Downturn? Recession? Near depression? I forget what term the economists eventually settled on, but at any rate, it was centered around my industry and it miiiight have stretched just a little bit farther than that to…well…everywhere. Heck, I think it might have even made the news. 😉
Suffice to say, texting my husband who was out of work at the time (same industry) “If the FDIC walks through *****’s doors today, on a scale of 1 to 10, just how screwed are you and I, because judging from the way the execs are behaving today, this is not an if…” is not something I ever want to do again. But that experience, and the two years of layoff musical chairs that followed, did put me a great position to know that when the excrement is hitting the proverbial fan, as human as it is to want a slack day, you take one at your own peril.
And that’s what the Angels took Friday night, a slack day. How else does one explain taking such a shellacking from the mighty offensive force that is the Twins lineup without Thome, Morneau, Mauer and Young? Our pitchers throwing balls and giving up walks like they were going out of style? The slumbering bats? The fielding errors? The lackadaisical defense? Total slack day.
Sure, everyone needs a kickback day from time to time. But when you come into work every couple of weeks to find a new, large stack of boxes lining the walls, making it convenient for security to hand them to whole departments or sections at a time for ease of packing up their desks? (And I know all too many of you know just what I mean) Yeah, this would not be the time for a kick back day. This would be the time to bust your ass, going above and beyond for the team. True, it’s different for most ballplayers. They make millions of dollars and many of them know they are coming back next season. But, Angels, do you remember how much it absolutely sucked to pack up your lockers in boxes at the end of September last season? Rumors were rife with how grumpy some of you were signing autographs that day and I can understand why. So let’s do everything we can to keep those boxes in storage for as long as we can, shall we?
I managed to somehow still have an office chair every time the music stopped.by making myself always useful, accurate, willing to bust my ass and take on an additional duty or three, and through no small amount of luck too. And this is what the Angels need now. No more mistakes. Yes, mistakes are human but when you’re close to the end of the season in such dire straits, there simply is no margin for error. No slack days. The Angels can have their fun, but they need to do so while winning every series in September, especially the one against Texas. Sweeping a few would be even better. Hey, I said this was possible, I didn’t say it was easy. And managers? The best team needs to be out on the field every day. If we are behind and offensively slacking, switch things up before the 9th inning please. Better yet, put the best bats out there in the first place. And here’s the luck part. We need Texas to lose more often than we do. A tall order indeed.
A tall order, but I’m not ready to give up hope yet. I left all residual exasperation from last night on the bike trail this morning. I’m psyched for tonight’s game and already hunting for a great deal on tickets for Monday and possibly next weekend. In short, I’m in this until the end. Are you, Angels? How about making us all believe it? Tonight. Sunday. Next week. And right on through September.
The 2011 Angels can’t score to save their lives and they can’t hit when it counts. Veteran bats have only come alive in alternating streaks all season – much like Torii Hunter’s slumbering bat waking with a vengeance into his current 15-game hitting streak – and the rookies and the gap hitters are pretty much carrying the line-up. The problem with that is that we can get guys on base, but we can’t bring them home, facts I haven’t shied away from mentioning all season.
And yet, the Angels have been in the thick of the division race, winning series and beating top teams all season long pretty much on the strength of their pitching and fielding alone. Two weeks ago, we were a mere game out of first place! So what happens when the pitching inevitably falters for a few games? Last week happens, with the disastrous road trip to Toronto and the Bronx. And if the fielding gets lax too? Well, then you have what could have been a season making series against the Texas Rangers turn into what we’ve seen on the field instead the last few days – something that could very well be season breaking if the Angels don’t pull it together and play their hearts out from tonight on through the rest of the season.
Another end result is that I, consummate baseball optimist, constant cheerleader and the self-proclaimed Pollyanna of Angels baseball actually started to despair for a few minutes Tuesday night. Tuesday was my husband’s birthday and his boss gave him the company seats, the OMG! company seats, on the field, in the first section on the dangerous side of the home plate screens, 10 rows back from the action. Awesome boss, yes? But sitting there, seemingly inches from the field, watching Erick Aybar lazily glance at the second playable line drive in as many innings shoot uncontested into the outfield for extra bases, in a game where our young starter was clearly struggling and needed all the backup he could get, I thought, “Well, that’s it then. If the Angels have just given up, the season is over.”
In fact, I think I waited this long to post our photos from the game, indeed anything about the Rangers series, in the hopes that Wednesday would give me something more cheerful to talk about. No dice. At least the lollygagging fielding was over by Wednesday, but not the gaffs. Balls were being thrown all kinds of places that weren’t anywhere near a glove. Erick Aybar decided to make an effort again for us Wednesday, but alternated between not being able to keep balls in his glove and not being able to get them out in time to actually throw them – which given the throwing situation might, in hindsight, have been a blessing in disguise, I don’t know – all night. Santana pitched a great game, but with the usual insufficient run support, and now with insufficient defense, it’s no surprise we lost.
So, are we done? The commentators all seem to think so. This was an important series, no doubt about it. We could be. If we can pull tonight off, we’re still six games out of first place in mid-August and that’s a tall order. But I did say my moment of despair was brief and, like it’s underlying message, I’m not giving up unless the Angels have given up…and even then I probably won’t give up unless winning becomes a mathematical impossibility, not a mere improbability, an impossibility. I’m stubborn like that. Monday and Tuesday notwithstanding, I don’t think the Angels have given up. Wednesday they still played badly but there were improvements – our pitching was back on track and the defense was at least hustling. And, here’s the thing. We were only one game out of first two weeks ago with only a handful of head to head games against the Rangers under our belt. We have seven more coming up including tonight. So, come on Angels, this division just got a whole lot tougher, but it’s still winnable.
So, tonight and going forward through August and September, we need to see a lot less of this – big bats taking knocking our pitching for extra bases -:
And a lot more of this, namely Angels in scoring position who then actually score and Angels on the base paths who just earned RBIs. And, I know I’m being extra, extra demanding here, but how about in several of the innings leading up to the 9th inning too?:
We need to start hitting pitchers who are hittable, and not right into double plays either. Derek Holland pitched a good game, but he was hittable:
No more injuries please!!! Everyone stay healthy:
It’s unfair to but so much pressure on our starting pitching, but that’s just the way things are this season, especially with the #4 spot in the rotation in such a state of flux, the rest of the rotation needs to be lights out as often as possible. With Garrett Richards unfortunately timed injury, they’re reinstating Joel Pineiro as a starter…oooooh boy. I just don’t know about that one. Prove me wrong, okay Joel? And the bullpen needs to be equally spot on. So why did we send this guy back to AAA?:
And why do we keep putting this guy in, in crucial situations? Tuesday was fine. Fernando Rodney pitches best when we’re already behind and don’t want to fall further behind, but I still don’t like seeing him take the mound:
And the fielding needs to be error free and full of hustle:
Do you ever have one of those days where odd things seem to parallel your mood or activities? You think of a song and change the station on the radio only to find that song? Or a coworker randomly starts the same conversation you just had that morning with your mom? Does this ever seem to happen with the baseball team you follow? Saturday, was my husband’s birthday “observed” – as opposed to Tuesday, his actual birthday, when we have tickets for the company seats at the Big A, whoo hoo! We hosted a pizza party/game night in his honor, so I knew that, between the prep, the party and the clean-up, I wasn’t going be able to pay as much attention to the Angels play as I would like to. Little did I know the Angels themselves wouldn’t be paying much attention to their play this weekend. Yikes!
The baseball/life parallel was a beautiful thing on Friday night. We cleaned the house and I baked a dark chocolate cake. Making this cake is as much about technique as it is about the recipe. If you cream the butter and sugar long enough and take a sufficiently light, careful hand with the folding, you have an almost ethereally light, fluffy cake. Fold too quickly or too long, or outright mix the batter, and you develop the glutens to the point where you basically have bread. A nice calm no doubter of a game was just what the doctor ordered.
Melt the chocolate, blend, combine. Vernon Wells hits a homerun. Dry ingredients, buttermilk, whipped egg whites, gently fold. Ervin Santana going strong. Back until the cake is springy to the touch. Double play to finish the game. Howie to Aybar to Tumbo. Light that baby up. And now let’s finish mopping the floor. Excellent. Great Friday! And can I just say that between their humorous sign campaign response to the sign stealing accusations and their classy welcome for Vernon Wells, I love Blue Jays fans!
Saturday, however, the whole baseball/life parallel thing started to suck. Big time. Yes, I needed to chop and prep all of the pizza toppings. Yes, I needed to make the double vanilla, cream cheese icing for the cake and that involves whipping thick ingredients. Yes, Seth had to work so I was on my own and frustrations from the game lead me to chop and whip with greater…hmmm…shall we say efficiency. But come on Angels, I didn’t need that kind of help! I’m strong lady. I can chop onions, mushrooms, garlic and the like in a good mood, would have preferred to in fact.
I was concerned about this particular Jered Weaver start heading into the game anyway. He doesn’t pitch as well when circumstances muck up the rotation. Just like in May, when illness delayed his start, Weaver seemed to come back throwing too hard and with less control after his extra rest. And for a guy who lives by pinpoint precision against a hot hitting Blue Jays team on yet another day where the Angels own bats stood still? My recipes were on the right track. This recipe, however, was one for disaster. And Pineiro’s two innings on top of it all? Ouch. Clearly he’s not working anything out in the bullpen. Is he injured? Is it psychological? Would Dave Duncan consent to maybe call and whisper to him over the phone? I got nothin’. But then I had the birthday party and a house full of people, wine to pour, pizzas on the grill and a really great time, all perfect distractions from any thoughts of Angels.
So, Sunday this would have to end right? We capped off a thoroughly decadent late night with a thoroughly decadent morning – sleeping in until first pitch and then lounging on the sofa to watch a good match up with a breakfast of leftover prosciutto pizza with blue cheese, apples and caramelized onions. And the beginning was great. Torii Hunter’s homerun. Dan Haren was dealing. Peter Bourjos smokin’ down the base paths. But it was not to be. After the game I could see one more parallel. I had a really happy Saturday night, and I was feeling it Sunday morning to a certain extent, hence the lounging. But some of the Angels and Mike Scioscia, love him though I do, must have had an even happier Saturday night. How else do you explain Bobby and Trumbo’s base running in the 9th? Or Scioscia’s decision to go to Fernando Rodney in the 10th?
The parallels, however, have to end now. See, Seth and I are going to be enjoying pizza, cake and other party leftovers easily until Thursday, but the Angels better not be keeping too many leftovers from their weekend. Torii’s hitting streak. Bobby’s reemerging bat. The fielding perhaps. The fact that Jered Weaver is such a stud, that even after giving up eight runs in less than five innings on Saturday, he still has the lowest E.R.A. and the third lowest WHIP in the majors. These are good leftovers to keep. But the lack of clutch, the inconsistent bats and the scary bullpen moments? Leave them on the road. The Rangers are coming to town for a four game series and with this disastrous road trip the Angels are four games behind them. This isn’t the last stand of the season right here, right now but it sure is time to get serious about winning again.
Jered Weaver and the Aftermath of the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad, Day
Since receiving official word of the expected six-game suspension following the “fireworks” at the Tigers game last Sunday, Jered Weaver has been adamant that he was not only appealing MLB’s decision, but would do so in person. As recently as Friday evening, there was word that Weaver’s agent Scott Boras would get involved with the appeal at Weaver’s side. Then, quite unexpectedly this evening, Weaver announced that he was dropping the appeal and had begun serving his suspension that day (Saturday).
I could not be happier about this decision. The chances of Weaver getting any sort of reduction or dismissal in the suspension were practically non-existent and appealing it only accomplished making Weaver’s availability for the next several series, many of them tough, a giant question mark. Certainly this was not helping the Angels any. Weaver’s decision to drop the appeal was motivated by a conversation with Mike Scioscia and a desire to do what’s best for the team. I applaud the decision, which will have him miss his next scheduled start against the Jays by only one day. This is especially helpful considering the next item.
The Unsinkable Joel Pineiro
It’s official. Joel Pineiro’s sinkerball just won’t sink. And what do we call an unsinkable sinkerball boys and girls? Well, the A’s, Orioles, Tigers and Twins called it a big fat meatball so let’s go with that, shall we? After Wednesday’s terrible start against the Twins, Pineiro’s fourth bad start in a row with no sign of improvement, the Angels moved him to the bullpen. It was time. He seems to do okay for the first inning or two, so maybe a few weeks of bullpen work will help him build confidence and find the right arm slot, or whatever, for an eventual return to the starting rotation? I don’t know, but I hope so. Pineiro was very classy about the news, fielding the press’ questions while admitting to his difficulties and accepting the bullpen move gracefully. It sounds stupid, but I was kind of proud of him. That couldn’t have been easy. I’m glad to see him out of the starting rotation for now but I wish him well and hope to see him regain his old form.
The Starting Rotation — We’ll Think About it Tomorrow, We Can Stand it Then?
So what in the heck are the Angels going to do with Pineiro’s spot in the rotation, especially this coming week against the Yankees? Ervin “No Hitter” Santana will take the mound tomorrow and from what I have heard, Dan Haren will dive in for Pineiro on Tuesday in New York…but what happens after that? With Weaver suspended until Saturday in Toronto? That’s a very good question. Supposedly we’re not in the market for arms and will solve the delimma in house with Hisanori Takehashi or Trevor Bell assuming the role for one start with a slight possibility of calling up one of the rookies, though none of them are quite ready it would seem. We’ll see how it goes, but if this is the case, then Tyler Chatwood definitely needs to buckle down and get outs more quickly than in his last few starts. I’ve noticed considerable improvement in his number of base on balls, so I’m sure he’s up for the task.
The Angels and the Curse of the AM830 Cooking Challenge
The Sports Lodge, the morning show on AM830, our local Angels and general sports radio station, began sponsoring an Iron Chef-lite style cooking challenge for charity last year. Various Angels players, coaches and their assistants – wives, SO’s, family members – compete to create an original dish with the winner earning a check for the charity of their choice. It sounds like an absolute blast, complete with a lot of silliness and banter, and even controversy – last year, pitching coach Mike Butcher won with the assistance of his professional chef sister-in-law, leading to the age old question, should there be an asterix next to his title? 😉 One of these years, I have to go. But in the meantime, I can’t help but notice the appearance of a curse hanging over the whole proceedings.
Last season, the player competitors were Joe Saunders, Kevin Jepson, Brandon Wood and Kevin Frandson. What else do these gents have in common? You guessed it. Not a one of them is still playing with the Angels, though Jepsen is at least with the AAA team. This season the cooking challenge winner was Pineiro. Very, very interesting. I actually don’t believe in curses or anything of the sort, but the coincidence seems so obvious to me and no one else is talking about it so I figured I would stir the pot a little…so to speak.
The Return of Friday Gourmet, Wine and Angels
This is the first Friday Seth and I have both been home, not prepping for a trip or some such and not still working on Friday night in weeks so, of course, the return of the Friday Night Ritual (wine, “gourmet” dinner and the Angels game) was in order. The game itself was a nail biting mix of the wonderful – Jered Weaver was very much on his game and our defense was stellar – and the frustrating – our offense was pretty much D.O.A. after Mariner’s rookie Trayvon Robinson, in his major league debut no less, made a stellar play robbing Torii Hunter of a two run homer. That kid is going to be something else! Thus the win went to closer Jordan Walden in walk-off fashion – way to go Torii and Vernon Wells! – instead of to the very deserving Weaver, but I’ll take that over a loss any day and I can’t think of anyone who would disagree with me on this front, including, I would imagine, Weaver. So, this week’s spread? Pan roasted salmon salad with dried cherries, feta and a homemade blackberry balsamic vinaigrette, accompanied by Bianchi’s Syranot, a lightly peppery pinot noir, syrah blend. Yum…my.
Forgive me comissioner, for I have sinned. It’s been three weeks since my last Angels’ Stadium session…Hey, church of baseball and all that. 😉
Yes, Seth and I had our fair share of baseball on vacation, but it had been three weeks since we last visited the Big A. For this reason, and just plain not wanting to waste tickets, we arrived at the game on Tuesday night. Even though he had a loan customer right at closing, I was writing on deadline and the copy wasn’t flowing, and we both left work about 15 minutes before first pitch. Even though I was worried I would spend the whole game with attempts to describe open enrollment and systems migrations creatively percolating ineffectively in my brain. Even though the game was flying so quickly we arrived in the bottom of the 4th inning…ouch! Even though, I was still going to have to get on the computer and write some more when we got home.
Here’s the funny thing about all of those worries and even thoughs, they tend to vanish once I walk inside a ballpark. For me it starts with the excitement of the fans as you walk through the gates, especially the younger children who are literally bouncing and wiggling with excitement. But the best part of that initial “I’m at the ballpark!” sensation is the first glimpse of the field from the concourse. The perfect green of the grass, the deep red of the clay and the bustle of the players, moving with the crack of the bat, all lit so brightly that it almost seems unreal, like a movie set. Gorgeous! Yes, I did have to write until after midnight when I got home, but getting to take in even the last five innings of the game was completely worth it, and I knew that the minute I saw the diamond peeking at us over the rows of field seats.
Mark Trumbo takes a swing (no, not that swing, but a good looking swing even so). Immediately after seeing that gorgeous green, Mark Trumbo blasted a Trumbomb an estimated 457 feet into centerfield. You know, just in case we had any lingering doubts about our decision to head for the ballpark. We cheered and whooped with packs of Angels fans along the concourse as we headed for our seats. And can I just say how much fun it is to hear the folks at MLBN picking up the term Trumbomb from Angels fans and giving this young man some well deserved recognition.
Mark Trumbo, in the hole for his next at bat, grins, possibly over something Peter Bourjos (to the left) said. Grin away, Mark! That was homerun number 20. He has a serious shot at beating Tim Salmon’s club rookie homerun record of 31.
Sunset over the Angels scoreboard. Of course, it didn’t hurt that it was also a beautiful night and just the right temperature for an evening out at the ballpark.
Ervin Santana had another dominant outing on the mound. It wasn’t a no-hitter. He started out a little wild, walking the first batter, Denard Span, on four pitches. And I was getting antsy listening on the radio on my way down to Anaheim. But Santana quickly got everything under control, eventually delivering a complete game, five to one win.
“Well, I figured I would throw strikes and you guys would provide error-less defensive backup.” Of course, I have no idea what Bobby Wilson, Ervin Santana and Erick Aybar really said out there, and I’m sure that whatever it was it was it was much more strategic, but my inner imp of the perverse must speculate. Bobby Wilson had a strong game on both sides of the plate. I was sorry to see Hank Conger go back to AAA, though I think it’s probably for the best in terms of playing time and Hank getting his swing back. But getting to see Bobby play more and have the chance to shine is a nice consolation. Bobby and Jeff Mathis are supposed to split the catching duties at least until September call-ups.
Brian Duensing takes the mound for the Twins. I always enjoy watching Duensing pitch – especially when we’re hitting him! His delivery, with that high pointed toe kick, is like a ballet dancer – all grace, control and strength. I don’t think he pitched badly so much as the Angels just had his number this time out…which was refreshing after last season, let me tell you.
Torii Hunter takes a strong swing. Not to be outdone, Mr. Hunter took one deep for a solo homerun in the very next inning. I like this kind of competition. Come on guys, everyone try to keep up with Trumbo!
The team congratulates Torii Hunter after his homerun! Can I just tell you how weird it was to see Bench Coach Rob Picciolo setting at Mike Scioscia’s desk? Or rather at the desk where Mike Scioscia sometimes hovers briefly while he wanders from the rail to the bench and back again? Scioscia is not protesting the one-game suspension meted out in response to Sunday’s Tigers game firewoks, and served his sentence inmmediately, missing this game. On the way to the game I teased Seth that of course we knew the Angels would win this one. Scioscia’s bench coaches always have a perfect record.
Dan Haren and Jered Weaver have a long chat in the dugout. They were laughing earlier in the inning, though they look serious here. I wish Haren had talked Weave out of appealing the suspension, if they even discussed it. I think appealing the decision is just more posturing. He isn’t going to get to duck missing one start and it would be a lot better for the team if Weave missed this weekend’s start against the Mariners instead of a later start against the much tougher Blue Jays or our pesky division rivals the Rangers, just one game ahead of us at the moment.
Joe Mauer at bat and out at first. I’m not going to lie, I have a soft spot for the Twins. Playing the Twins is like playing old friends…old friends that you really want to beat handily, of course. I like a lot of the players on the team. I usually wind up rooting for them in the post season when they outlast the Angels, etc. It was nice to see Mauer playing again, and as catcher too at that. He even got a hit, though I was only pleased for that after the game and only then because it didn’t lead to any runs. 😉
Such a first baseman! By which I mean both of them, of course. Mark Trumbo and Michael Cuddyer chat after Cuddyer reaches first, offering strong anecdotal evidence in support of the Chatty Cathy/First Baseman stereotype. The friendly conversation to total game face in a split second conversion always amuses me.
Cuddyer chats with Erick Aybar when he reaches second too. Yes, this is the same inning. Okay, so Cuddyer is clearly the chattier Cathy, but he’s been a first baseman longer. He knows more people. Give Trumbo time.
Jeff Mathis, Alberto Callaspo and Erick Aybar hang out in the dugout during an Angels at bat. This photo amuses me for two reasons. First, this particular perch seems to be a coveted spot that almost always goes to the pitchers, but for whatever reason the position players got it this game. And two, Jeff Mathis appears to be either giving or receiving hitting advice…no offense Jeff, but I really hope it was the latter.
Vernon Wells is out at first in the 8th inning. Wells had a fine game. He went two for three, walked and scored a run. But I liked the way this photo turned out the best, so there it is.
And as for this evening’s debacle? After four bad starts, I am officially worried that Joel Pineiro has lost hissinker ball to an extant that may be hard to recover from this season…and don’t think my Kaz scars have healed sufficiently that I’m not jumping to dark thoughts about his abilities next season as well. However, as the title of this post suggests, I don’t want to talk about that right now.
Trade deadlines. Unexpected fireworks at the Sunday Angels, Tigers game. And an anniversary. It’s been quite the full weekend. Too full to cram everything into one coherent post so, in no particular order, here are some of the things on my mind:
- I am pleased the Angels didn’t make a move before the non-waiver trade deadline. We could certainly use a reliable bat, but I didn’t see anyone would really help the Angels sufficiently enough to justify what it would cost us to land him. No trading the rookies!! Or the near rookies for that matter!
- The announcers on the national broadcasts, be it ESPN or Fox, are terrible and one of the back-handed perks of being a smaller market team is not having to deal with them very often. On the flip side of this equation, hearing someone new drool in surprise over Peter Bourjos’ speed in the outfield, Mark Trumbo’s bat, Howie Kendrick’s clutch glove and the like never gets old.
- If he had to get tossed, I wish Jered Weaver had gotten himself tossed one inning earlier because that finally got the offense awake and fired up enough to score some runs. With one more inning, who knows what could have happened.
- About Weaver getting tossed. Usually the amount of trash talk that goes on during a game is entertaining and probably helps guys keep a competitive edge. When it gets carried away, however, I feel the urge to knock heads together and tell everyone involved to grow up and just play baseball. This should have been over and done with after Weaver barked at Magglio Ordonez (who likely was just waiting to see if it was fair) and he came by the mound a few innings later for a little chat. But then things had to get even more stupid. Carlos Guillen was no more waiting to make sure the ball was fair than Weaver accidentally let the ball slip at Alex Avila’s head. Enough already!
- Of course, I finally sat down with the game just in time for the real blowup in the 7th inning and had to catch up on the preliminaries leading up to it after the fact. Seth and I have been trying to get in extra long bike rides every other Sunday or so, today we tackled the San Gabriel River Trail…all of it. 38.9 miles from the trail head one long block above our house in Azusa down the river all the way to the ocean in Seal Beach. It was absolutely awesome!! But grueling enough that I didn’t have it in me to tack on one last mile’s tour around the parking lot after we left the trail to make it an even 40. Today, my jurisdiction ended right here, when the trail did. Next time.
- In his post game interview today, Justin Verlander referred to Erik Aybar’s bunt “attempt” in the 8th inning as bush league. No, sweetheart, that wasn’t bush league. Your throw to first? Now that was bush league. I’m sorry, but I have never understood the “unwritten rule” against busting up a no-hitter with a bunt. Is the team being no hit supposed to just roll over and let the opposing pitcher have the no hitter? Hell no. That cheapens the whole concept. A baseball team should continue trying to win, no hitter or not, by whatever means they have at their disposal. And if you are a Cy Young candidate caliber pitcher in the middle of a no hitter, and a guy who routinely leads the league in bunt singles comes up to bat, and you aren’t prepared for him to do just that, is that really something you want to admit to in public, let alone gripe about? Truly it defies logic.
- Nothing in the above rant is meant to take away from Verlander’s amazing pitching performance. His fastball was faster in the 8th inning than it was in the 4th and every bit as accurate! There is a reason he has garnered all of the accolades he has this season, he’s earned every single one. I put Jered Weaver in the same category. However on Sunday Verlander was the better pitcher and Weaver let himself get rattled a little too easily, provoked or not.
- Mike Trout shared the outfield with Peter Bourjos on Wednesday for Santana’s No Hitter and then pinch hit for Bobby Abreu on Friday…and hasn’t played since. I don’t think this, the not playing much part, is the usual plan for 19 year old prospects with promise and for good reason. Trout needs to play almost every day. So if we’re not going to play him a few times a week in more than a pinch hitter role – and I do understand that our outfield is crowded and Trout has a few things to work on – then send him down to AAA until September.
- And last, but certainly not least, a personal note to my wonderful husband where I know he will read it: Happy 12th Anniversary! From the first date that adamantly was not a date at all – until it absolutely was! – to now, hands down, this is the best. Sumer fling. Ever! And we’re just getting started. 🙂
Because in the course of any season, regardless of how well your team is or is not doing, it’s going to happen. Several times. Well, if you’re me and it’s the Angels doing the sucking, you just keep right on watching. Call it misplaced optimism. Call it “fan”aticism carried to masochistic degree. Call it a factor of being raised on SoCal baseball where, truly, more so that for any other teams in the majors there is no lead so large that every now and then it can’t be overcome…or given up for that matter. Call it whatever you like, but if I’ve started watching the game, be it at the ballpark or on the television, even on delay, then I’m going to finish it — root, root, root for my guys or at least show solidarity by sitting tight through the evening death watch, as it were.
Fortunately, this evening I accidentally saw the end of the game. Not knowing the end of an east coast game while you’re waiting for your husband to come home to start said game on delay when you blog…and read everyone else’s blogs…and watch MLB tonight…and, and, and, you get the general idea…on the night your team decides to blow goats two days after pitching a no-hitter? It’s not possible. Seth knew the outcome before he got home too. I won’t give up on a train wreck once it’s started, but I also don’t believe that fandom demands seeking one out when I already know the gorey depths and bloody extent of the of the carnage.
So, what do you do when the game just plain sucks? Either in lieu of watching it or after it’s over?
Change the channel. Yep. Pick up that remote and put something else on. Depending on your personality, another game might be just the ticket, or it might drive you into greater fits of depression. Sometimes something completely different is a better idea. Watch a movie. Drool over Food Network. Catch up on some of the April and May episodes of favorite TV series you abandoned on the DVR once the baseball season started. One word of advice, though. Watching SportsCenter, Quick Pitch, or the like immediately after your team choked and hearing the talking heads not just speak ill of the dead, but trash talk the corpse during the autopsy isn’t therapy. It’s the sports fan equivalent of drunk dialing an ex-lover while you’re still raw from a recent break up. Sure, you think you’re going to achieve some measure of closure, but no. It’s a trap. …or so I’ve heard…
Go to the Movies. Get out of the house and lose yourself in someone else’s story for a few hours. After Joel Pinero’s Post Oakland Debacle, Debacle Part II: This Time it’s in Cleveland, we went to go see Captain Abs…er…America. *Sigh.* Is this geek girl heaven? No ma’am. It’s just the first preview for the Avengers movie in 2012. *Sigh again* Really, Captain America was fun, and it had a neat, knowing WWII recruitment poster come to life look to it, but it was worth it for that preview alone.
Sadly, sometimes stronger measures in this arena are required. Cheesy, cheesier, so bad it’s good, and occasionally even just plain bad movies have their uses. Yes, there was a game so bad a few weeks ago that we actually went to see Transformers III. Our rationalizations? Let someone else pay for the air conditioning for a few hours. Pretty explosions in 3-D are therapeutic. And, really, the game might look better in comparison. We were mostly right.
Curl Up with a Good Book. If you’re not a fan of the printed word, no worries. Some people juggle geese and all that. But if you are, this is an excellent strategy. Brain vacation! Cruise around in Crowley’s ill fated Bentley or Harry Dresden’s blue beetle. Visit Middle Earth or 221B Baker Street. Attend Woland’s Walpurgis Night Midnight Ball. And return to reality when your desire to punch walls over the game has receded to mere annoyance.
Ummm…it’s called alcohol. Feeling the need for something a bit more mind-numbing than my previous suggestions? The main benefit of this time honored coping strategy is that you don’t have to wait until after the game to begin self-medicating. Wine. Beer. Bourbon. Vodka. Be the reason the rum is gone. Heck, get fancy and do catastrophe themed shots like flaming drambuie. And it’s versatile too! If your team starts to rally, your spirit drenched activities can flip the switch from wake to celebratory revels faster than Peter Bourjos goes from first to home plate. And if you haven’t had the pleasure of watching the lad this season, that’s pretty damn fast.
Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge. Say no more. Personally, I think this should be a frequent go-to post game strategy regardless of the score. A great pick me up after a terrible game. A fantastic celebration after a good game. It’s the little black dress of cope-age.
Blog. Put fingers to key board and rant, whine and snark away. Oh, come on. You know you were going to do it anyway. Why not get all of the ranting out of the way during or immediately after the game when it has the most direct therapeutic value. If raw emotions – or perhaps having, ahem, combined this option with one of the others – adversely affect the quality of your prose, it’s not like you actually have to post it. Of course, that’s never stopped me before. 😉
And if none of this is effective, well, you know you’re going to get right back on that horse with the next game to cheer again. How can you not? Your cure is only a win away. And your relapse? Well, best not to talk about that. But you might as well keep this list handy, you know, just in case.