My breakdown of Zito, that is. Not him breaking down in his Range Rover or something.
I’ve spent the past few days doing things like discovering I can only make good ad roughs while chewing watermelon gum and watching the Academy Awards and wondering what is wrong with James Franco (a lot) and deciding that Halle Berry was best dressed, hands down and then having a bit of a Shopalohics Anonymous moment at a shoe store today when I tried on these five inch Steve Madden heels that were covered in gold glitter. It wasn’t until The Sister alerted me that I looked like Paris Hilton’s BFF that I ditched them.
Most important event of these days though? The fact that Real Live Baseball Before Your Very Eyes is happening. It is enough to make me glow more than any glittery Madden heels for days on end.
The game today was a hard one for me, though. I am a huge Zito fan (you knew that, didn’t you?) and a little apprehensive for his first start, albeit a Cactus League start, since the whole playoff roster thing. Well, I’ll just say this wasn’t exactly comforting. I mean, physically it’s not surprising he would be a little off in his first start, but I think the mental thing is a bigger deal for him. My personal opinion is that his little plans every year are to blame. I’m sure every player has some sort of plan, but with Zito it always seems to get out. And they include messing with his pitches or his motion in a big way. He seems to way overthink it (hey, don’t we all? He just does it very publicly). I believe he is a premiere pitcher and a Cy Young Award winner and he just needs to cut the plans and pitch. Mychael Urban told me that it’s a “go back to roots” thing this year. I understand that conceptually, but it is, for better or for worse, nine years later than those roots and that doesn’t seem like it’s poised to succeed, to me. There is such a thing as being too smart and we all experience it from time to time. The NFL knows it too. Mostly, Zito is obviously someone who needs a little space to figure things out, so I hope it was just, um, first game weirdness? ::crosses fingers::
Otherwise, the game was pretty encouraging for us San Franciscans and wanna-be-San-Franciscans and San-Franciscans-at-heart. Brandon Belt basically screamed, Listen, y’all! and DeRosa actually seemed healthy out there which is bizarre and lovely at the same time. DeRosa and healthy feel almost like oxymorons. But I hope not.
Isn’t that guy a total Mark DeRosa look alike? He’s Rufus Sewell and I saw him in Tristan and Isolde, which, by the way, is not worth watching even to spot the DeRosa doppelganger. And the fact that I think they look alike has nothing to do with the character being named Marke.
So that is my giant catch-up session because it’s been way too long and not blogging for two whole days is ridiculous. Hugs and lemon poppy-seed muffins to all. I really need to make some of those. It’s been too long.