Today, fantasy baseball; tomorrow, the world!

Read it and weep, bitches:

That’s right. Yours truly has taken over the top spot in Ryan VB’s Cardinals bloggers fantasy league. There’s no need to point out that this is a temporary thing; I am well aware of that. Just let me bask in the glow of leading a roto-scored league this late in the season.

Myself, I prefer the head-to-head version of fantasy baseball. But I always play one league every season, roto-style. And let me tell ya: I freaking stink at roto-style fantasy baseball. Somehow, though, the gentlemen on my squad have put it together, especially in the past couple of weeks or so.

After starting the season off terribly (I was near the bottom in all categories), The 26th Man team has sustained its buckwilditude for a good six or so weeks. The hitters started, um, hitting, as April drew to a close, and the pitching staff, led by Jason Schmidt, has been bonkers since the beginning of May. Who knew that a relief corps that employed the likes of Todd Jones and Tyler Walker could keep a team in the middle of the pack in saves?

Alas, we all know what they say about good things. I just hope the fellas can help me keep things respectable.

p.s. Peace to the other Cards bloggers in this league. Major-league shout-outs to the aforementioned Cardinals Diaspora as well as Fungoes, Matty Fred, Redbirds Fun, Captain Obvious and Redbird Ramblings. If I missed you, I apologize.

p.p.s. If anyone at all cares, this league is different than the one I have occasionally posted about. That one is my money league on Sportsline I help run with my friend Chris E. I’m doing much worse in that league.

Plop plop fizz fizz

… oh, what a relief it is to get off that damn schneid, even if the win was signed, sealed and gift-wrapped by the Indians. Win’s a win, though, dude. I’ll take it. Talk about your emotional yin and yang; when David Eckstein hit his grounder to short my exclamation was as such:

“Son of a b… ALLGAME!!!!!!”

And for us not-old-but-not-young guys, how awesome was it to see all those seat cushions go flying as the team celebrated on the field? It took me back to when I was 12, when Tommy Herr belted a walk-off granny to beat the Mets at the Concrete Doughnut.

And in basking in the glow of a win, I won’t allow myself to complain about the bullpen, even though I really, really want to. During the eighth inning, I was on the phone to work helping a colleague with a problem when I heard Danny Boy on the FSM telecast say, “And this game is now tied” in that slightly peeved inflection Danny Mac uses on occasion.

Phew. Nice job, fellas. Take Thursday off and think about how lucky you got the night before, then come out and take those eight straight losses out on the Royals. Um, and everyone else in perpetuity.

Eight is enough

Dudes, come on. Eight straight? I realize that the American League is far superior to its more senior counterpart, but this is getting silly. At least I’m on vacation from work, or I’d be seriously upset. (Hard to get too upset over anything when you don’t have to go to work. Temporarily speaking, of course.)

Let’s see if I have this right: Our hitting stinks, our starting pitching stinks, and our bullpen stinks. That leaves the defense, which has been merely OK, I guess. Sooooo… yay defense!

Offensively, Tuesday’s loss was more of the same futility. We drew not a single effing walk, and only once did the Albert Pujols bat with anybody on base. He also led off innings twice on Tuesday. That is what is particularly frustrating to me, seeing the Big Fella leading off. Attention No. 2 hitters: Please get on base. That’s what you’re there for.

Pitchingwise, Anthony Reyes had a C-plus outing at best, which is excusable for a guy’s fifth career big-league start. I still think the only thing keeping him with the big club is Mark Mulder’s shoulder woes. And kid, if I may offer a word of advice: Love the socks, but dude, bend the bill of your damn cap. You look like the door greeter for the Doofus Convention.

In other news, erstwhile free-agent target A.J. Burnett, making his second start since coming off the disabled list, pitched a complete-game shuttie against the Nationals on Tuesday. Siiiiighhhhh… at least I can derive some good from the Burnett situation. I drafted him in the fifth round in my money league (and picked him up when others dropped him in my Yahoo leagues) and stuck with him. He represents my team’s lone hope for making the playoffs.

Lincoln’s Team?

According to Wikipedia, Springfield has a new baseball team. I’m gonna have to follow up on this.

What took you so long, Google?

Matthew at Unspelled has passed along some very important information: Google Maps and Google Earth now have Springfield in stunning, high-resolution detail.

I guess that means we in Tha Patch are big-time now.

Actually, it doesn’t mean that at all. But it is cool that I can waste precious time in stunning high-res (publishing jargon, for those not in the know. I use it only to make myself feel important.) detail. I’ve checked out my house, my high school, the state Capitol (old and new), my place of employment and the home of our dearly departed Triple-A (then Single-A) Cardinals minor-league affiliate.

If you haven’t fiddled with Google Earth, I highly recommend it. It’s a wonderful way to waste time. It’s enabled me to visit every MLB ballpark from the comfort of my own home, as well as retrace my steps from the time I spent in London and learn where the frig Macau is.

And if you haven’t read it, Unspelled also is worth a visit. It’s a well-written, Springfield-focused blog with a soft spot for the slightly absurd. Matt, you do good work; keep it up.

Gamesmanship

Oh daaaaaamn, Gina!

A war of words seems to have erupted between Dave Duncan and Ozzie Guillen… in the newspaper. Nathaniel Whalen at the (Aurora) BeaconNews reports that our Dunc called Guillen a liar:

“I’m tired of listening to Ozzie making excuses; any controversy he has, he has an excuse for it. I don’t like liars, and that’s a lie right there. … I did run into Ozzie on the field (Wednesday) and he said ‘I didn’t have anything to do with it.’ That’s probably a lie, too.”

Damn, Dave. Down, boy. Guillen, meanwhile, didn’t exactly fall over himself to deny lying:

“Everyone has different opinions.”

The South Side O.G. also got a dig in on Chris Duncan:

“If that call (to hit a batter) came from me, I guarantee you I’m not going to hit Duncan. He’s in Triple-A now. You think I will hit someone not important. At 20-2, why would I hit a Triple-A player?”

Basically, Duncan is calling bullshit on Guillen for saying “I didn’t know it was your kid” AND for Guillen saying he “called over” to him when he found out. The zing of Daddy’s Boy wasn’t necessary, either.

Didn’t I call this the other day?

Great job, kid

… now pack up your trash and get out.

In what easily was the most anticipated game of the 2006 season, Anthony Reyes pitched the game of his life: 8 IP, H, R, 6 K.

That’s it. Sheer effing brilliance. It’s a shame the kid took the loss. It’s also a shame that he’s going back down to Memphis. Don’t believe me? Check it:

• Thursday’s loss can be directly traced to the home run Reyes served up to Jim Thome.
• Reyes’ groundball/flyball ratio was 6-12. This is unacceptable, people.
• Reyes struck out as many guys as he retired on grounders. This, too, is unacceptable.
• Reyes is not a mediocre, groundballing journeyman. He is a talented, whiff-inducing youngster. Unacceptable.

Bitter? Only as bitter as the beer I’m drinking.

After having to accept a half-assed Hot Stove League in which the major signing was Juan Encarnacion, we get a rigged spring-training “competition” for the No. 5 spot in the rotation, which went to Sidney Ponson, even though Reyes (and Adam Wainwright, for that matter) clearly outpitched El Sid.

Then Reyes languishes in Memphis (destroying the Pacific Coast League in the process) while the likes of Mark Mulder, Jason Marquis and Ponson (with the occasional Suppan) repeatedly turn in poor-to-bullcrap performances.

Then it takes two blowups of monumental proportions for The Braintrust to realize that maybe, just maybe this Reyes scum might be worth trotting out there.

So yeah, I’m a little bitter. The Perfumed Princes seem to be trotting out every excuse as to why Reyes doesn’t belong with the big club, with Tony La Russa last week going so far to say the kid is “not ready.” Um, Tony? I guess 65 Ks against 8 BB in 71 Triple-A innings is indicative of needing some more seasoning, huh?

What’s the excuse going to be after Thursday’s performance?

Quote-unquote breaking news

Per John Lembo at the Bradenton (Fla.) Herald:

(Chris Perez) has decided to forego his senior season with the Hurricanes and sign with the St. Louis Cardinals.

I smell a September call-up.

Uncle!

Holy (insert name of your preferred deity here)! Dude, 33 runs in two games? WTF?

I thought it was impossible to both suck and blow, but Jason Marquis managed to do both, giving up 13 runs in five innings. At least he took his beating like a man:

“Our bullpen is a little short right now. You got to go out there and eat the innings up. If that means I’ve got to take a little beating while I’m at it, so be it.”

Thanks, mang. Yeoman effort on your part. But it was more than a little beating.

So that’s two groundball pitchers lit up for six HR in two nights. Here’s to hoping Anthony Reyes keeps the ball down when he starts today. And no pressure, either; only the hopes and dreams of the obsessive fanboy types are riding on your right arm.

Get well soon, Jim Edmonds.

In memoriam: Darryl Kile 1968-2002

Man. What a rough week that was four years ago.

About a month ago, a woman named Allison Wollam shared her memories of D.K. with CardNilly. It’s a wonderful story; I’m sure there are a million others just like it. Darryl Kile seemed to be an extraordinary human being, one who touched a lot of people’s lives for the better. We should all strive to be remembered that fondly.

My personal tribute to D.K. is my softball hat. My six-year-old, filthy, dusty, sweat-stained Cardinals hat I play softball in. It never fails that at least once every season, a guy on a team we’re playing compliments my hat.

(logo courtesy Chris Creamer’s Sports Logos Page)