Monthly Archives: October 2011

Well, So, The Cardinals.

I have avoided talking about the Cards up until now because I had a somewhat irrational belief that if I just ignored them (and, yeah, clicked my heels together and said, “There’s no place like home!”) they would just vaporize into the mist of Eliminated Baseball Teams.

Not so, apparently.

The NLCS is all tied up, 2-2, between St. Louis (I will not call it St. Lulu.  I repeat, I will not call it St. Lulu.) and it’s altogether a lot tighter than I would have expected.  And it’s killing me.

It’s not that I hate St. Louis, because really, they’re a fun team and they beat out the Braves to the wildcard, which is enough to make me love just about anyone.  Rationally, if they beat the Crew, I would sigh and be done with it, after mourning for the disappearance of Axford’s mustache from my TV screen.  But as it is, I can’t stand them at all.

It goes back to ancient history, I think.  Not ancient in the sense of those awesome reliefs from the 8th century, B.C.  Just in the sense of coughcough2006coughcough.

Anyone else remember?  I’m sure you do.  The Mets epic downfall in the NLCS.  What some people called the greatest collapse in the history of everything (that is, Major League Baseball).  I remember that series vividly and the serious case of Baseball Fan Heartbreak that followed.  And then watching the Cardinals go on to the win the World Series?

Not fun.  Not fun at all. 

And that, my friends, is why I can’t bring myself to even marginally like the Cardinals even though I’m sure they’re a totally lovely group of guys.

Well, that and the fact that I am IN BEAST MODE!  Duh!

Diamond Girl

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Awkward Moments and Vicious Cycles Galore

In other news, I have just now come to the realization that the Giants won’t play another game (okay, yes, I’m slow) until next March.  And I am sad.  And, okay, yes, that probably has something to do with the Rangers losing today.   Some days I hate baseball a lot more than I like it.

And then I watch highlights like this one- Favorite. Baseball. Moment. Of. All. Time- and like it all over again.

Vicious cycle, people.  Vicious cycle.

Diamond Girl

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Me and My Antlers and Theo Epstein and His Cursed Teams

Okay, so!  Are my antlers good luck or are my antlers really, truly good luck?

Why is my head MIA, you ask?  Well, partially, because all my purple eyeshadow has gone missing (believe me, I have some suspects on this) and partially because I’m having a Bad Hair Day with capitals.  You should thank me, really.

It’s not that the Rangers weren’t doing well before I put them on in the beginning of the 11th (hey, did you see Cruz’s throw to home plate?  That is like my definition of “well”.)  It’s just that they weren’t doing well enough to win the game and be done with it.

Which is why I took my antlers off their display perch on my dresser and stuck them on my head.  The rest is history.  Which is to say, the Rangers broke it open and proved walking Beltre to get to Napoli was a bad idea, not to mention that Nelson Cruz likes to hit three runs blasts and he did just that.  It was lovely.

The game was also lovely because a) Michael Young shaved the lame beard and b) he got his first RBI of this postseason.  He also did a fab twirl at first base, fielding a throw from Beltre which made me all gooey and Young-lovey for a good half hour.   (And did I mention how much better he looks with short hair?)

What was not lovely about this game?  The rain.  The tons and tons and tons of rain.  I mean, I love rain, but everything is contextual, you know?  And in this context, the rain was horrible.

This series has gotten a lot harder for me since it moved to Detroit, because, as y’all probably know, I have a bit of a Detroit pride thing going on.  So FOX’s beautiful shots/feel-good stories about the city made me feel for the Tigers.  But once the game started, I put aside all Superbowl-ad-inspired allegiances and tried to focus on my Rangers.

Then came Rick Porcello.

He is just too much fun to watch pitch and I am sure I cannot be alone in saying he is my favorite Tiger.  He is really darn good and I love him.  Once again, my allegiances were tested and once again I prevailed and kept on rooting for Texas.  But this is not as easy as it looks, alright?

And yeah, cranberry bagels rock.  As do the playoffs.  Good night, now.

Diamond Girl

p.s.  Apparently Theo Epstein digs cursed teams.  No accounting for taste, I guess.

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A Dystopia, Featuring Churros, Bud Selig and Joe Torre!

I suffered through seeing a 2-0 lead vaporized in one swing of a Tiger bat in the third inning, only to miss the grand payoff in the 11th, on a wild goose chase that may or may not have been centered around my hair.  (Fine.  It was.  I admit it.)

Oh, did I mention that grand payoff?

It was grand in the sense that it was awesome, but also in the sense that it was a grand-freaking-slam from Nelson Cruz.  Walk-off.  In the 11th.  First walk-off grand slam in the playoffs in the history of Major League Baseball.  I’ve watched it over more times than I care to mention and it gives me goosebumps every time.  Seriously, haven’t these playoffs just been the most dramatic anyone could ever possibly have hoped for?  I can just imagine Joe Torre sitting in the stands, looking satisfied and evil.

Speaking of Torre!  I’m a little torn.  I think he looks less scary in a suit than in a uniform, but there’s also something vaguely menacing about the idea of him working of the league.  Um, dystopia waiting to happen, anyone?

I’m sure I’m being unfair to him and he’s a totally teddy bear, in reality, but… I can’t quite get rid of that image of him (in a Dodgers uniform, of course) being Selig’s silent, right-hand man as Bud takes over the US and makes candy illegal and makes everyone he doesn’t like sell churros or something.  Really, am I alone on this?

And if I am alone and you are staring at your computer screen in disbelief right now because of that rant, then blame FOX who interviewed him more times then they needed to, during the rain delay the other night and put all this jazz in my head.

Lastly, I would just like to say that I am very stoked for the Rangers and all, but they are most certainly testing my fandom by sporting those ridiculous beards.  Josh Hamilton looks like someone splashed tomato sauce on his face and Mike Napoli looks like he always shaves a little-too-high-onto-the-neck-which-turns-into-chin.  So, yeah, I have a little present for them.

Thank the stars Alexi is clean-shaven and I can still love him to death.  Okay, ‘nuff whining for the day.  Antlers and rain and cinnamon sticks in coffee to all!

Diamond Girl

p.s.  Why do the Canadians get Thanksgiving before us?  Why?

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Why the Long Face?

Alexi Ogando, David Murphy, Justin Verlander, Mike Adams and Rick Porcello walked into a bar and the bartender was all, Why the long face?

Seriously, this was the Matchup of the Long Faces like I’ve never seen before in a baseball game.

(For the record, Lucky magazine suggests sleek, oversized sunglasses for the long faced crowd, a la Jackie O.- their words, not mine.)

Anyhow, yesterday’s game, the first of the ALCS, was sort of a marathon.  It took just about five hours and there were two rain delays, equally about an hour and fifty minutes.  The Rangers displayed the brilliant awesomeness of their bullpen and I was given ample time to gaze at Alexi Ogando and his magical pitching.  He is my new favorite Ranger.  In fact, watching him spurred a conversation that went something like this…

Me:  I love Alexi Ogando!

My father:  Isn’t ‘love’ a little strong?

Me:  No?

Him:  Shouldn’t love be reserved for… Jon Daniels or something?

Well, maybe.  But still.  Ogando rulz.  With a z, people.  With a z.

Diamond Girl

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