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Tony La Russa = George W. Bush

After having 24 hours to cogitate on the La Russa-Pujols All Star Conundrum, I think I’ve made my decision.

I’m done with La Russa.

I know that means absoloutely nothing in the grand scheme, because A) I’m a blogger, B) an untalented one at that, and 3) one who hasn’t had anything to say in months.

The decision not to bat Albert Pujols in the ninth inning of Tuesday’s All-Star Game was perplexing enough, but his comments afterward were the final nail:

Albert was the guy who was going to do whatever we needed. If Albert doesn’t understand that, I’m surprised and disappointed. It isn’t that tough a thing. I explained his role to him before the game. Let me ask you this. If we go to extra innings, who’s going to be our player to move around and play? Can Dmitri move around and play? Or is Albert going to do that? Who’s the most versatile guy not playing? It’s Albert. It isn’t even that tough. He’ll figure it out sooner or later.

Translation: “How dare Albert and the media mopes question my strategy? I’m the manager, and I’ll make the decisions. In other words, I’m the decider. I am above accountability. Plus, if you don’t understand, you’re obviously not as smart as me.”

Now it’s this blogger’s turn to ask some questions:

• How can you not bat your best player in a potentially game-winning situation?
• How can you repeatedly pass up your own player in such a situation?
• Why would you want to risk alienating your meal ticket?

Albert Pujols is the only reason you are still employed in St. Louis, Tony. Just remember that.

La Russa has entered the rarified pantheon of people who make me shake my head in frustration at the sound of their voices or just mere sight of them. The other members: the aforementioned President Bush and Illinois Gov. Rod Blagojevich.

And now Tony La Russa. It’s kind of a shame that he basically has set fire to all the goodwill that Cardinal Nation showered upon him last fall.

Doggy Heaven

“I want to tell you about the most wonderful place in the world: Doggy Heaven. In Doggy Heaven, there are mountains of bones, and you can’t turn around without sniffing another dog’s butt!”

R.I.P. Josh Hancock 1978-2007

Cardinals reliever Josh Hancock was killed in a car crash early Sunday. Another tragedy strikes the Cardinals.

(The 26th) Man’s best friend

That handsome sonuvabitch on the right is Miles. You might remember him from such posts as this one from last year, when it was announced that Aaron Miles had made the team.

He’s my dog. And he’s dying.

He’d been limping for several days when I took him to the vet two Mondays ago. She said at the time that it (his right front leg) probably wasn’t fractured and might just be sprained. But she couldn’t definitively say what it was without an X-ray. My other choice was to give him pain relievers and watch to see if he improves. I chose the latter.

During the course of the next week, his limping gradually got better. Then it gradually started getting worse, bringing us to this past Monday. Mrs. 26th Man brought him back to the vet, and that’s when he got the X-ray. The vet said it’s 98 percent certain it’s bone cancer. That other 2 percent might be a bacterial or fungal infection, but because he doesn’t have any secondary signs of infection (fever, hair loss, etc.), then it’s likely cancer.

Basically, the bones in his right front leg are turning to sponge. The vet said it’s likely an aggressive kind of cancer and that Miles might have one good month left. From what I understand, it’s basically a horrifying race for what will get him first: Cancer taking over or his leg bone snapping.

Our options are: travel to St. Louis (I live in central Illinois) and spend thousands trying to treat the cancer and an already-compromised leg bone, or just try to make his remaining days as happy as possible. Unfortunately, we do not have those thousands of dollars right now.

It’s a bummer, for sure. For a dog who is such an athlete (he absolutely lives for that tennis ball), it’s a bitter irony that he’s going to be cut down by something that takes his mobility away.

He’s still the same dog, personality-wise: happy and waggy and excited to see people, and he’s still eating and drinking water. It’s just really hard for him to get around anymore. I’m trying to limit my time away from home as much as I can.

Miles is a Cardinals fan, by the way. His first collar after his original home-from-the-farm puppy collar was red, and it’s been that way ever since.

All is Wells

Once again, the combination of a below-average offense running into above-average pitching doomed the Cardinals on Tuesday.

There’s not really much I can add a day later, except to say that we have our first entry on the Soap in the Towel Award leaderboard!

Kip Wells failed to make it out of the fifth inning and was charged with eight total runs in 4.2 innings, giving him 1.71 SitTA points. A silver lining in Tuesday’s rain-filled cloud of a game, to be sure.

Easy like Sunday afternoon

With 12 runs scored in Sunday’s tilt against the Cubs, that makes 32 runs scored during the past three Sabbaths, compared with just 30 in the Cardinals’ other 15 games.

This gives me an idea. I think the team should petition the NFL for re-establishment of a St. Louis Cardinals franchise. Think about it: Nearly all the games would be during Sunday afternoons, when the team does most of its scoring… we would rule the league.

A few other thoughts from Sunday:

$$$ The lede from The Associated Press game story got me thinking:

CHICAGO (AP) — With the wind blowing out at Wrigley Field, the conditions were perfect for the St. Louis Cardinals to get their offense out of a season-long funk.

I think that’s the third time this season that lede has been written.

$$$ The linescore was kind of nuts:

Cubs score. Cards tie. Cubs score. Cards tie. Cards score. Cubs tie. Cards score. Cubs tie. Cards score. Cubs… don’t? The bottom of 10th inning was almost anticlimactic.

$$$ Preston Wilson has had himself a nice past few games. He had two hits Sunday, one to start the fun in the 10th inning. His home run Friday won that game. He even walked twice this series. Has the world gone topsy-turvy?

$$$ Aaron Miles, meanwhile, hasn’t. He pulled a Chris Duncan on Saturday, getting turned around on a popup (which should have been Wilson’s play) for an error that led to a meaningless run. And Sunday he took an impossible angle on Mark DeRosa’s popup in the ninth (which may have been uncatchable, but it’s still Wilson’s play). If he’s on the team for his glove, somebody better tell him. Paging Edgar Gonzalez…

$$$ And finally, if I may steal a bit from Fungoes… Sunday illustrates why pitcher wins are a meaningless statistic. Jason Isringhausen loses the lead in the ninth. Tyler Johnson and Russ Springer don’t in the 10th, yet Isringhausen is credited with the win, having done none of the heavy lifting to “earn” it. Arrgh.

Oh, the humanity!

Getting beaten by the hated Cubs is bad enough. To get shut out is even worse.

But to be on the business end of seven scoreless innings from He Who Shall Not Be Named is the ultimate indignity.

Ironically enough, it appeared that HWSNBN was up to his old tricks by plunking Albert Pujols and allowing a Scott Rolen base hit to set up a big first inning, the bane of his existence last year.

But he managed to get a painfully slow-footed Jim Edmonds to ground out. From then on, he was more or less the same pitcher he was with St. Louis, allowing at least one baserunner in four of his next six innings. The Cardinals flaccid offense just couldn’t string enough hits together, going 0-for-7 with runners in scoring position Saturday. And Chris Duncan continued his overanxious futility with the bases loaded by striking out in the fourth inning.

Pujols wasn’t all that impressed facing HWSNBN, though:

He got in trouble like normally, you know, he always gets in trouble, and finds a lucky pitch to make to get out of trouble, you know.

Surly and Dismissive Albert is the Albert we knew and loved last year. He also was a ball-destroying machine last year. Maybe that’s all it will take for Albert to break out: start being a dick to the press again.

Also interesting is that our own Anthony Reyes seems to have inherited the HWSNBN mantle of digging a hole early before settling in. And Reyes didn’t actually pitch badly; he made the one bad pitch to Michael Barrett, and it was all over before the first inning was in the books.

As soon as he let that pitch go, I said, “Aw, man.” Gary Bennett had set up down and in, and Reyes missed up and over the plate. Barrett, to his credit, didn’t miss. That mistake ruined an otherwise good outing: seven hits (six minus the Barrett HR), no walks and five strikeouts in six innings.

Siiiighhhh… I’m still optimistic for the rubber game. It is Ten-Run Sunday, after all.

One more thing… I’ve extended another invitation to Paper Boy to chime in from the dark side of The Rivalry. Be gentle, my friend.

Kevin’s not too happy, either. (The Red Crush)

I need to stop taking showers

Well, maybe not entirely. But at least during games.

I had it all lined up: The house was (sort of) picked up and The Boy down for a nap mere minutes before the first pitch. All lined up except for one thing: I had to be at work at 4 and needed a shower.

After six innings, it was about 3 p.m. With Scott Rolen (.576 OPS), Jim Edmonds (.502) and Preston Wilson (.495) coming up in the seventh, I figured I could get clean and not miss much.

How wrong I was. After Rolen whiffed, Jim Edmonds finessed a walk against Ted Lilly. Wilson then came up and crushed a ball onto Waveland Avenue to give the Cardinals the lead. One suggestion, P-Dub: When you’re hitting .200/.220/.275 on the season, walking halfway up the first-base line before you begin your trot looks kind of bad, regardless of how hard you hit the ball. Still, nice shot, yo.

I understand there also was some defensive kookiness in the bottom half of the seventh. After seeing the replay approximately 77 times on “SportsCenter,” it looked as if Yadier Molina was trying to catch Henry Blanco’s pop-up bunt attempt with his bare hand to try to throw behind Jacque Jones for the double play.

Fresh out of the shower, though, I’m clueless to what had just transpired. All I see is that the Cards have the lead and there are runners on first and second. But as if to put an exclamation point on yet another superb start, Braden Looper reared back and struck out both Mark DeRosa and pinch-hitter Daryle Ward. I’m wondering that, since he knew he was due up first in the eighth inning, Looper just pinned his ears back and let it rip. Two strikeouts in that situation is mad clutch.

As an uneventful eighth inning and top of the ninth pass, it’s time to leave for work. I put on the Moonman in the car for the bottom half. As I get about two minutes away from my office, this happens:

Typical Cubs play: You’re gifted second base on a walk to the batter, yet you still manage to overslide the base and get tagged out. Dumbass.

Give Mike Shannon credit: He was on top of this from the get-go. He about had a coronary when the play went down and was apoplectic during the umpires’ conference. I can only imagine Ron Santo’s reaction when Ronny Cedeno was called out.

As maddening as the Cardinals have been this young season, it’s good to beat the Cubs. It’s even better to banish them to the basement. Ha-ha, jerks.

~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|

Notes from that other “rivalry:” As if we needed any more reasons to loathe Alex Rodriguez, his two home runs Friday night were Nos. 475 and 476, moving him past Baseball’s Perfect Knight on the all-time list. … former Cardinals farm hand Coco Crisp went ass over teakettle trying rob A-Fraud of No. 476. … And Red Sox fans are monumental douchebags, but you already knew that.

Keis to the game

At first I thought I may have jinxed Randy Keisler.

A few hours after the Soap in the Towel Award post, Keisler took the bump against the hated (by me, at least) Giants. After an easy first inning, the Keez found himself in trouble each inning he pitched afterward.

Especially worrisome was the bottom of the fourth. Giants second baseman Ray Durham led off the inning with a triple, and Keez then walked Bengie “Not Yadier” Molina and Pedro Feliz (or Peter Happy, if you prefer) to load the bases with nobody out.

According to TangoTiger’s Run Expectancy Matrix, with the sacks jacked and nobody out, the Giants were set up to score 2.417 runs in that inning. Randy Winn came to the plate and flied out to left, plating Durham for one of those runs, reducing the RE to .971. Giants manager Bruce Bochy then elected to give up an out by having old friend Matt Morris sacrifice (.634 RE). The Keez then got Omar Vizquel to foul out to end the threat, thereby preserving the lead.

Keisler managed to get through five innings and thus avoided the ignominy of becoming the first entry on the SitTA leaderboard. And he didn’t seem to pitch as poorly as his rather unsightly line indicated. His breaking ball was working better than his previous start, and he more or less was hitting Yadier Molina’s target.

His biggest problem was home plate umpire Gerry Davis’ strike zone, which was all over the place. At least Davis was squeezing both pitchers equally, as MattyMo had issues as well. Pitches that were six inches off the plate or low were called strikes, and pitches that looked good were called balls. And the next inning, the outcomes of those same pitches likely were reversed.

Occasionally it seemed that the amorphous strike zone was getting the better of Keisler, judging by his body language: lots of shaking heads and Elvis-like lip sneers.