Game 3 - Boston 4, St Louis 1

Even before Suppan offered up the sacrifice to Manny, it didn't look good for the Cards as both Damon and O-Cab hit balls hard to the outfield. When Manny exacted retribution for the low called-strike, it was all up to El Diva.

Martinez looked just awful in the first, his pitches all the fuck over everywhere but the plate, Tek shuffling around like Hasek and suddenly the bases were juiced with one out and Jim Edmonds at the plate. Seitz and I don't agree on much, but we both hate Edmonds with an almost irrational passion. For me it's always been a general vibe, a kind of "God, I bet he's a douche bag" thing that was cemented by an SI piece about his renaissance that began with the writer meeting Edmonds at the hair salon where he got the tips of his bangs frosted or some such nonsense. Seitz and I have never discussed his loathing of JEd, but I'm guessing it has something to do with the unusual career development arc he's enjoyed. Any-hoo... Edmonds' high fly to shallow left sent the Nation into paroxysms of anxiety, the ball hanging like the Sword of Domocles over an entire season. "Manny, this is important, let's see a little pepper in your step... Manny, Walker's tagging... Manny... Manny...? Oh, thank God he got it... Home, Manny, home!" And like that, it was over, a room service one-hop to Varitek, whose positioning forced Walker to travel far and wide to his own funeral.


The second had me concerned that maybe Suppan was going to live up to his "big game pitcher" rep, the same rep I scoffed at yesterday. A brief trip through Mueller/Nixon/Bellhorn had me thinking that the HR to Manny may have been nothing more than just that, a HR to Manny, not at all unusual.


The third inning featured one of the great gaffes in WS history, if this had taken place late in Game 6 or 7, Suppan's name would be mentioned in hushed tones along with Merkle and Buckner and all the GOAT goats. You watched it, I watched it, we all saw it, it was grim. Second and third, no outs, Walker, one of the only guys who's been hitting consistently for the Cards, at the plate. Again it seemed the fates were mocking the Nation as a groundball shot to Bellhorn (1 error in the WS), who threw to Ortiz (the alleged heir apparent to Dick Stuart). Playing at normal depth the Sox had conceded the run, but as Papi recorded the out at first he looked across the diamond and saw Jeff Suppan frozen in his tracks, immobilized by a HoF brain cramp. Instead of jogging home with the tying run, he had stopped twenty feet from 3rd. Papi held the ball high in the air as he ran straight at Suppan until Suppan committed, at which time Papi threw a pea to Mueller (3 errors in Game 2) who made the tag to complete the second non-traditional, run-saving DP of the game. My favorite moment (Bill Simmons is the only other person I've seen mention this) was thirdbase coach Jose Oquendo turning his back in disgust as Suppan stood there helpless and afraid. Really strong. I loved it.

And that was pretty much it for the Cards, their fans had turned against them and Pedro realized that this was to be his night, as he quickly did away with Pujols. After that, Petey retired the next 12 batters, virtually assuring his place in the Boston Sports Pantheon (as if it were ever in doubt) and daring John Heny to let him walk.

My desire for the Sox to let El Diva walk is no secret, nor is my contempt for the NYT's baseball writers, but Harvey Araton wrote a compelling defense of Petey that actually had me thinking twice about the glee I'm going to feel when Phineas T Bluster gives him $30 million for two years. I'm not sure it's possible, but I think Martinez may have been underrated in his prime. Take a look at his career ERA+, Winning % and K/9IP. The guy has been unbelievable. But that doesn't change the fact that he is well past his prime and that typically guys who find that second wind in their careers have really big asses or are fitness nuts. Guys like Martinez tend to fall apart.


Game 4 - Boston @ St Louis
Derek Lowe - Yet another guy making a contract drive on the greatest stage possible, Derek Lowe has had a career that rivals Forrest Whittaker's for its what-the-fuckness. Stolen, along with Varitek, in a deadline deal for Slocumb, blossoms into an all-star closer, flames out, reborn as a twenty-game winning, no-hitting, 1A, only to fall flat on his face this season. His stock was so low coming into the postseason that he had been relegated to the pen. The next thing you know he's the only guy in the ALCS to make two huge starts and now stands poised to lead the Sox to the promised land. My only concern is that he maybe over-rested, running the risk of losing some of that nasty bite that has at times made him near-great.

Jason Marquis - Oh, boy. I feel a bit like Henry VIII staring down his fourth leg of mutton. WHIP? 1.42. BAA? .275. Now imagine this: he's been far worse in the playoffs.


(I can't believe I'm writing this) I think the Red Sox will crowned world champions in about five hours.

He's Fine, Thank You

As I was walking back to the hospital Shayna called to tell me that it looked like everything would be fine and that as she was about to collapse from exhaustion she was going home to nap. She asked that I continue on to the hospital so that I could make sure JagPo got home safely.

I was in the waiting room not ten minutes before he emerged from the bowels of the ER.

"Let's get out of here."

"Really? That's it?"

"Yeah."

"Are you OK? What's wrong?"

"I'll be fine. Let's talk about it outside."


I'm not gonna get into to details, but suffice to say the type of holistic medicine that I belive in would prescribe a cigarette and a cup of coffee.


If you're reading this, old friend, rememember; Cybil's here to help.

Dugout Dollars

Hey, gang, I don't know if you've seen this, but it's pretty cool. The formatting is a little hinky but you can get it into Excel with a little patience.

What a Huckleberry

JagPo is one of my best and oldest friends. We met via telephone when I called the Weave in Paris while I was in the grips of an LSD-fueled rage. In the ten years since we have shared apartments from Prague to SF. He's about as close to a brother as I've ever had.

His wife Shayna, also a great friend, called me today at work telling me that Jags was in the ER with an as yet to be determined malady that had been dogging him for days. She wanted to know if I could come stay at the hospital with him while she went to work tonight (she's one of the editors of a poular teevee show featuring five fascistic gay men). I said of course.

On my way home from work I stopped by the hospital to check in with her briefly. Big hug, "how are you doing?," blah-buh-di-blah... and then we sat down for a bit to talk about what was going on. At first they thought kidney stone, then maybe appendicitis (had it, not fun), they still don't know but are running tests.

At one point she tells me, "Yeah, I told him I was gonna call you to ask if you could stay with him and he said, 'No, you can't call him, he can't come, he's got a game to watch.'"

I love that guy.


Yes, I'm going to the hospital... Jeebus, I'm not a monster. And they have three teevees in the waiting room.

Welcome to Uglytown

T.J. Simers of the LA Times offers his opinion* on the city of Boston today. Some highlights...

"You couldn't find a much better advertisement for plastic surgery and the need for dramatic makeovers than the first two games of the World Series."

"I'd have to conclude that everyone living in the Boston area who attended the first two games of the World Series is ugly."

"Some fans wore hats or scarves to cover their faces, I presume so they wouldn't scare the children."

I'd like to go off half-cocked on some rant about sour grapes over the ALDS (although we learn later that T.J. doesn't care about baseball) or make disparraging remarks about how if Boston is the "before" photo, than LA is the "after" photo and that ain't no great shakes, either. But I can't. the fact is, T.J. is right, the city of Boston is ass-ugly.

As you may recall, I went home earlier this summer to meet Matt and Kate for the convention. Sunday found Kate and me walking around the Common and downtown. "You know how cities have mottoes, like 'I Love New York?'" she asked. "Someone should make a t-shirt that says 'Boston: What's with All the Fat, Ugly People' or 'Come to Boston, Where Fashion Takes a Vacation, Too.' I tried to defend my home, my people, suggesting that maybe all the people with the financial means, a demographic that typically is better looking than others, had gotten out of town to avoid the convention crush. After a few days it was undeniable: that town, my town, is just ugly. Selah.


On a related, last night's season premiere of "The Swan" was awesome!



*Use bugmenot name and password latimes18485/latimes18485.

Game 2 - Boston 6, St Louis 2

Have I missed something? Is John Mabry being punished?

Tony LaRussa is slowly making his case for inclusion in the Assclown Hall of Fame. Saturday's headscratcher was his decision to use Reggie Sanders as his DH and have So Taguchi play left. Now I thought it was a terrible decision to leave John Mabry on the bench for the previous game, but I could understand the desire to upgrade your defense. Last night was another story. Not only did he not upgrade his defense, leaving Sanders in left, he used Marlon Anderson as his DH.

The Sox had RHP Curt Schilling pitching last night and Anderson, .237/.269/.379, and Mabry, .296/.363/.504, are both left-handed batters. So why exactly would you rather give Anderson the at bats? Are you saving Mabry for the big moment? If that's your plan, and it's a terrible plan, wouldn't the top of the 6th with two on and two out and rightie Sanders, .195/.317/.267 in the playoffs, due up be that moment? You were only down three, you were a swing away. What are you waiting for?

Were you waiting for the 9th inning when rightie Keith Foulke was in and you were down 4? Because Mabry hitting for Sanders would've made sense. Or better yet, for Mike Matheny, who's batting .205 in the playoffs and you still had Yadier Molina on the bench.


Why didn't the Cardinals bunt on Schilling? Don't you have to exploit your opponent’s weakness?


What more can possibly be said about the Sox' defense? Bill Mueller became the first man since Davey Lopes in '81 to boot 3 balls in a World Series game and Strollin' Mark Bellhorn ain't gettin' paid for his leather. You would think they might be well on their way to the record for most errors in a Series, but they're not even close. The 1909 Detroit Tigers punted 19 balls in a losing effort to the Pirates.

I take solace in two things: despite being given extra outs each night, the Cards have been unable to win a game and the Sox' defense just has to settle down. Doesn't it? They got through the first ten games of the playoffs with only one error, so sure, they were due. But now they've committed 9 in 12 games. On the other hand, the idea of watching Ramirez roam that spacious outfield in Busch is terrifying.


There's been talk that the DH rule in the Series would be to the Sox' detriment. How? Why? In Boston, the Sox' offense and defense remained intact and the Cardinals added So Taguchi to their line up for one night and Marlon Anderson for the other. Over the course of a season the addition of either one of those guys wouldn't have covered the 95 runs by which the Sox outscored the Cards - batting a pitcher ninth - this season. In St Louis the Cards' line up remains intact and the Sox lose Millar's bat. Millar is far superior to either Anderson or Taguchi offensively, but again, not 95 runs better. The other difference for the Sox is that Ortiz has to play the field. Is Ortiz a defensive liability? Of course, the guy's a born DH. But that drop off from Millar to Ortiz isn't that great. Surprisingly, Ortiz' zone rating and range factor are both better than Millar's, while Millar's fielding percentage is only 3 points higher.

Another factor in the Sox' favor is that they will have another strong bat on the bench while Tony LaRussa will continue to fruitlessly search milk cartons for John Mabry's whereabouts.


Game 3 - Boston @ St Louis
El Diva - I certainly hope Petey's ego got the stroking it needed in Game 7, 'cuz my dry cleaner says it's going to cost me about $30. Good lord. In his three playoff starts, he's gone 19 innings and allowed 10 runs, averaged a K an inning and issued 11 walks. He is yet again auditioning for what will likely be his last major payday, it is almost certainly his last start in a Sox uniform (please, God) and he's shown in the past month that all that activator has started to rot his brain. The Cards are hitting .239/.316/.373 after two games in a hitter's park and have struck out 18 times in 67 at bats. I see no reason to think Martinez can't give the Sox 6 inning of 3- or 4-run ball.

Jeff Suppan - Don't be fooled by the three quality starts he's spun this postseason. Suppan stinks. Like ass. A beefy WHIP (1.37), a love of the long ball (25 HR) and an inability to finish guys off (5.27 K/9IP) all add up to the kind of guy the Sox feast upon.

Seeing as Schilling (again) saved the bullpen from overuse and they're actually going to get their day's rest, you have to like the Sox' chances of making a ho-hum start by El Diva stand up.