(Bill Kostroun/AP)
If I didn’t see it, I wouldn’t have believed it. The worst hitter on the team supplies the biggest hit of the season.
All during the NLCS, the Cardinals have been rolling the dice with house money. And we hit on a hard 9.
Unbelievable. I’m going to pour a beer on myself.
Let me first apologize by recycling the post title of a previous entry. It really fits better on this one.
If the Cardinals lose tonight, it won’t be for a lack of support from the fans.
I had numerous errands to run today, and at each place at least one person was decked out in some sort of Cardinals swag:
Myself, I’m currently rocking an older batting practice jersey (the one with the blue trim on the button part) and red suede Pumas. I plan to pull out all the stops tonight:
Inside the aforementioned Pumas will be feet enshrouded in red, navy and powder blue argyle socks. To top it off will be the home red cap. My kids are going to be wearing their Cardinals swag, and I hope to convince Mrs. 26th Man to put on her pink Pujols 5 T-shirt.
In the biggest game of his life, Mets starter John Maine delivered.
After a shaky first inning in which he allowed two hits and hit a batter to load the bases, Maine did to the Cardinals what Chuck D does to corny MCs: He shut ‘em down. Typing this in the bottom of the eighth, you have to figure that he’d be the player of the game. (update 10:16 p.m.: Yup.)
At least the Cardinals made it interesting in the ninth. So Taguchi, you rascal, you.
Other pointed observations:
And finally, it seemed like the fans at Shea Stadium came correct, in full effect with all their hoes in check. On virtually every two-strike count, no matter how many outs, no matter the inning, they were on their feet screaming.
That said, there also was a very vocal and very stupid contingent of fans in attendance. The first six batters that came to the plate in the bottom of the first were met with mad boos. I can understand booing Pujols, and Eckstein might be marginally booable, too, but why Juan Encarnacion and Rolen too? Those guys have done jack squat this series. It seemed like a subset of fans felt the need to uphold the stereotype of jerkweed New York sports fans. In one of the few non-game camera shots that didn’t show Jose Reyes in the dugout, I caught a glimpse of one fan’s T-shirt, which read: “Cardinals fans take it in the Pujols.” Gee, I’d never heard that one before… you come up with that on your own, chief?
Whatever. All that matters is that we didn’t close out the NLCS early. Thursday we face Darren Oliver Perez. Let’s go get ‘em, boys.
Not to channel the watered-down, mid-1980s incarnation of Yes or anything, but tonight, it can happen.
I just have to make myself stay awake. I work nights and don’t usually get to bed before 2 a.m. On top of that, I have to get up at 7 a.m. every day to get my damn wiener kids up, dressed, fed and off to school.
And on top of that, Mrs. 26th Man had a little difficulty gathering herself this morning and molested her snooze button at least three times between 6:30 and 6:50. Nothing says “you’re up for the duration, asswipe” like a public-radio pledge drive (full disclosure: I have a secret crush on the dulcet-voiced Kavitha Cardoza).
Actually, I don’t think it will be that difficult to keep myself up once the game starts. I will be a bundle of nervous energy once the first pitch is fired in anger. I’ve got my playoff beard and my all-important replica home Pujols 5 jersey. I do need to get some beer, though. I just hope I don’t get too drunk. Gotta get up early.
Hello, boys and girls… it’s time for another cop-out links post! Where bloggers and journalists more talented than I get the respect they so richly deserve! Enjoy, bitches:
With all the ink spilled recently about Albert Pujols’ NLCS surliness, it made me wonder how he would deal with facing Tom Glavine again. Fortunately, we at The 26th Man were privy to what Fox cameras didn’t show after each at-bat Tuesday:
1ST INNING
Action: Pujols, first-pitch swinging, flies out to center.
Reaction: Ridicules elderly fan’s stick-on Spiezio beard.
4TH INNING
Action: Pujols drills a home run to left.
Reaction: Apologizes to fan, gives Yadier Molina a noogie.
5TH INNING
Action: Pujols intentionally walked.
Reaction: Sends Glavine an apology ball, which reads: “Sorry I spoiled your extra day of rest. Go fuck yourself. –Albert Pujols”
7TH INNING
Action: Pujols grounds out to second.
Reaction: Calls Barry Weinberg over to look at his hamstring, then gives him the stinkface.
9TH INNING
Action: Pujols records second out on Cliff Floyd’s grounder.
Reaction: Tells Adam Wainwright, “Achilles’ heel? More like ‘I kill his heel.’”
(Jamie Squire/Getty Images)
Wow.
We really are just one win away from the World Series, thanks to yet another stellar outing from Jeff Weaver. He didn’t dominate, but he got the outs when he needed them. I can’t seem to stop gushing about that guy.
Albert Pujols perhaps extinguished one story line by homering off of Tom Glavine, who I’m sure was more than a little chagrined to have had to intentionally walk him before he was relieved, but perhaps ignited another.
In the top of the ninth with Cliff Floyd batting, Floyd bounced one to Pujols, who in his normal hard-headed “Fuck you, Jobu, I do it myself” routine, ran to the bag to make the out himself instead of flipping it to Adam Wainwright, who was over to cover. But on VEB’s Game 5 overflow thread, commenters Hardcore Legend and EBroglio suggested that maybe Pujols took it himself to make Floyd run hard to the bag knowing Floyd had a bad Achilles tendon.
I wouldn’t put it past the muckraking New York beat writers to suggest such a notion; if so, there will be a shitstorm of epic proportions in the fishwraps and on the blogs this morning.
Again, wow. This whole up-3-games-to-2-in-the-NLCS thing is weird and scary to me. I still can’t believe So Taguchi hit a home run the other day. I’m at a loss for words. Interesting ones, anyway.
As far as I’m concerned, winter could start now because the beard has done come in.
Normally, I start growing the winter beard sometime in November after the family Christmas pictures (Mrs. 26th Man doesn’t like the beard for some strange reason). It can get cold here on the Illinois prairie, and the beard insulates my devastatingly handsome face from the effects of the chill winds that blow.
But in mid-October, we’re still in the throes of Indian Summer, so the beard exists only to serve the Cardinals in their quest for World Series No. 10.
It’s allegedly not raining in St. Louis, if you can believe that. Indeed, the indisputable visual evidence confirms that. Game on.
A fully rested Jeff Weaver takes on a likewise Tom Glavine, who probably (and rightfully) has a thing or two he’d like to tell Albert Pujols. Calm down, Al. In order to be The Man, you first have to act like a man. You think Glavine is no good? Then tear him a new one on the field, not in the clubhouse.
Go get him, Tiger.
Go Cards! Go beards!
(photo courtesy KMOV Busch Stadium cam)
It’s raining.
And chances are more than slight that it still will be raining by game time, which may preclude Game 5 from being played tonight.
If the game is called, Tony La Russa has some thinking to do. Does he let Jeff Weaver pitch on full rest Tuesday, or does he move up Chris Carpenter to pitch at home on short rest?
Given those two options, which gives you the better chance of winning? Weaver’s been more bad than good at Busch Stadium this year. I am unaware of any site that gives stats for pitchers on short rest, but it’s worth debating whether Weaver on full rest is a better option than a short Carp. Especially when a loss in Game 5 would put the team’s back squarely against the wall.
So many questions. I hope, for TLR’s sake, that the game is played tonight to save him the trouble.
The bullpen’s supply of Magic Pixie Dust™ finally ran out.
Brad Thompson and Josh Hancock bore the brunt of Sunday’s debacle. If you thought Thompson’s ERA after Game 4 was unsightly at 27.00, consider Hancock’s. After allowing all five batters he faced to reach base and score, his ERA for the NLCS stands at 162.00. That kind of sucks.
Tyler Johnson also came back to Earth, although in not the explode-and-leave-a-fiery-crater fashion of Hancock. Braden Looper, of all people, gives the yeoman’s effort to get through the final three frames, yielding only one run.
While the bullpen took on the crooked numbers, Anthony Reyes bears some culpability as well.
His start was one of the more frustrating performances I’ve witnessed in a while. It’s not that he wasn’t throwing strikes; he struck out four in his four innings, and he got to 0-2 or 1-2 with probably eight to 10 other batters. He just couldn’t put them away.
After getting ahead to those eight or 10 batters, Reyes began wasting pitches, nibbling hither and yon instead ot just going right back after them. It was all too predictable: Reyes would get two strikes, then Yadier Molina would set up way outside and have Reyes “waste” a pitch. And then another pitch, etc. Before you knew it, it was 3-2 and he was forced to be too fine, with little to no success, as evidenced by his four walks and three hits, two of which where of the four-base variety. He’s lucky that both were solo shots.
What happened to that high cheese he used so effectively against Milwaukee in September? Or the guile he showed in one-hitting the White Sox in June? If wasting pitches was part of Sunday’s game plan, then he executed it flawlessly: He rung up 86 pitches in only four innings.
I can’t help but think that Monday’s game is inching toward “must-win” status. To go back to New York down 3-2 would be troublesome. Game 5 with bullets:
