I’m not sure when it was, though it was probably last Friday night when we got in the car after seeing a surprisingly entertaining yet wholly unfulfilling “Elizabethtown” and enjoying the always underrated boneless Buffalo wings (at Cheddar’s, but really, how can you go wrong with boneless Buffalo wings anywhere?). I flipped over on XM to find the Sox-Angels score and the Sox had won. It just kind of dawned on me that they were going to win the pennant and I’d better get used to it. Since then I’ve been kind of numb. The only baseball I’ve watched since has been the end of games four and five of the NLCS.
Game four was a complete kick in the nuts to the Cardinals who got their bi-centerfielder thrown out of a game during an at bat. Game five was the most crippling postseason defeat I’ve seen since the Red Sox coughed up “Game Six” in ’86.
I was pondering whether or not to write about this and then saw that Sports Guy just posted a column about it. So frankly, you don’t need me to do it now. But there are a few things I feel compelled to add. (So, I guess you’re getting it anyway.)
By the way, I was at Borders the other day and flipped through his book and I will preface this by saying that I think he’s very funny and I read his stuff regularly, and I used to read the old bostonsportsguy.com site. But I can’t for the life of me figure out why it took him 11 months to write that.
He took a bunch of old columns and made a few notes about each in the margins. I think it’s a good idea and the collection of columns is solid but for Christ’s sake, how does that take 11 months? But, I digress.
Do you want to know when I knew the Astros were doomed last night?
I’ll pretend you do. Fat Lance hit the homer in the seventh to give the Astros the lead 4-2. Larry Walker was leading off the top of the eighth for the Astros so Mike Gallo (the only Houston lefty, and like Yadier Molina, not yet as famous as his older brothers–Ernest and Julio) was in. He got Walker out and as Phil Garner came out to pull him from the game, Gallo asked the umpire for the ball, because the ump was going to throw it out of play. Mike skipped off the mound with the ball and he was going to tell everybody for decades to come that the ball was from the night the Astros won the pennant.
I had a Dusty Baker-Russ Ortiz flashback and I knew that somehow the Astros would blow it.
I had started to wonder when right after Berkman’s big homer, Morgan Ensberg hit one off the stupid Crawford Boxes in left and got thrown out by 20 feet trying to go to second. Somewhere, Moises Alou was laughing at how bad Ensberg’s baserunning was. Oh, and tHom Brennaman was pretending to have a “big boy” voice and was calling him “Berkman” during the entire play.
tHom would later preview the ninth inning in his ultra-dramatic way, saying, “Due up for the Cardinals–Molina, Luna and Mabry.” It was wrong, because Molina had just made the third out in the eighth, but even if he’d said Luna, Mabry and Eckstein, it wasn’t going to instill fear in anybody. As we know, 47 year old rookie John Rodriguez led off for Luna and whiffed, as did Mabry. Then the Garden Gnome came up and hit a weak little grounder that Morgan Berkman-Ensberg-Stoops couldn’t get to.
Lassie’s up and I was still pretty confident that there’s no way he can hit Lidge. Lassie has (or is pretending to have) a bad shoulder and the only way he can get a hit is to go opposite field. Lidge was going to just blow heaters past him and the Astros would celebrate their first pennant.
But I had ignored an important thing. Fox had already doomed the Astros. They gave them the 2003 Cubs’ treatment. They showed the old footage of the Colt .45s and the construction of the Astrodome and little tHom was recounting all of the failures of Astros’ playoff runs in the past (and they have had some awful postseason losses…I’d forgotten how crippling their postseason exits have been, and the list didn’t even include giving up a homer to Gabor Bako when he was with the Braves).
Lidge walked Edmonds who had no chance, NO CHANCE of getting a hit.
When Yosemite Phil came to the mound I was sure he was going to have Lidge walk Pujols. The “book” says you don’t do that. But the “book” doesn’t have to face Pujols with the pennant on the line. There is no way Reggie Sanders gets a hit there. I know he hit a grand slam against the Padres and blah, blah, blah, but Reggie Sanders would not have tied or won the game for the Cardinals.
Pujols, of course, did. His home run was hit so hard and so far that Lidge let America know it was gone when he almost collapsed on the mound.
The situation didn’t do it, the final play didn’t do it, but the whole scenario just brought back every bad memory of game six in 2003. That feeling of “we’re going to the World Series” and then “poof” it’s gone. But this was worse.
Not for me, because honestly, I don’t have a dog in this fight. I hate the Cardinals and I hate the Astros. I hate the Astros less, but that’s no reason to root for anybody.
But can you imagine what it had to be like to be an Astros’ fan in that spot? At least in game six, it unravelled slowly. It was torture. Prior unable to put away Castillo, then the Bartman play, f#$%ing Pudge, D. Lee’s big hit, etc., etc.
This was just “we’re going to win!” to “I can’t feel my legs!” In a split second. It was Donnie Moore and Dave Henderson in 1986.
I know the Astros have Roy Oswalt and Fat Roger and I know that these Cardinals aren’t anywhere near as good as even last year’s Cardinals were, but I don’t see any way you recover from that. Losing game five is one thing, but losing it like that?
Anyway, read Simmons’ take. You’ll love the part where he incredulously tries to figure out how Albert can be 25.
My younger brother (17) is an Astros fan… and my dad is a Cardinals fan. Part of me is glad I’m not at home and part of me wishes I could be, just to observe.
My brother last night: “Well, at least we have Oswalt and Clemens.”
Me: “Dude, we said ‘well, we have Prior and Wood.'”
Short of Oswalt figuring out how to throw a no-no, I don’t see the Astros coming back. And I even saw the Red Sox winning 4 in a row… Of course I was really drunk when the Yankees were up 800-2 in Game 3 and said “The Yankees are blowing them out too big one game too early. Boston is going to come back.” And all my friends laughed and threatened to cut me off for the rest of the night.
The only good news is that if the Astros do come back tomorrow, I think they get enough momentum to carry into Chicago to beat the thus far dominant, but now idling Sox.
If it goes to 7, I think the Sox beat either team.
I watched “Sideways” on HBO. It wasn’t as good as I thought it was when I saw it in a theater last year, but it is still very good.
What? There are playoffs going on? Who knew? Who’s playing?
How effed-up is your family to have a Cardinals fan, an Astros fan, and a Cubs fan in it? That’s some serious dysfunction, friend.
It’s dysfunctional, but it’s also fun… And I have the pyhrric victory of pointing out that we took the season series from both teams.
If only we could’ve beat the Reds and Brewers… and the NL East. Sigh.
If you were Dave B., you’d have killed your father by now.
I have no doubt John Walsh will one day do a show on one of the following:
â€â€Fugitive Chuck Gitles for the baseball bat murder of Corey Patterson
â€â€Fugitive Mike Donahue for the double homocide of Andy McPhail (asphyxiation; sweater vest around neck) and Larry Rothschild (bludgeoning; pitching machine)
â€â€Fugitive Chris Troiha for impersonation of Lionel Hutz, attorney, in the defense of fugitive Mike Donahue
â€â€Fugitive Dave B. for the ritual killing of the entire Cardinals baseball team, with exceeding cruelty and torture to Edmonds, LaRussa, Tavarez, and Pujols
â€â€Fugitive Paul Popovich for the murder of whoever was pissing him off that day
â€â€Fugitive Brian Crozier for sodomy of an Illini basketball jersey
â€â€Fugitive Kelly Dwyer for wearing a soul patch north of the Mason Dixon line
â€â€Fugitive Jake Potter for pornography
â€â€Fugitive Andy Dolan, aka “Andy,” aka “Big D,” aka “Boss,” aka “Godfather of Cub Geeks,” aka “Johnny Cockring,” aka “Handy Andy” for masterminding the nefarious criminal empire and consolidating all Cub Geeks into a band of nationwide goons who do his bidding.
The above cooment is one of the funniest things I’ve ever read.
Jimmy Two Times was sitting behind us at Soldier(s) Field Sunday. He was with another 80 year old Bears “expert” and either he had a stutter or the other guy was really, really deaf, but he repeated everything twice.
“I think we got the wrong Jones kid at running back. I think we got the wrong Jones kid at running back.”
“This Ortberg [sic] holds the ball too long. This Ortberg holds the ball too long.”
“I just wet my pants again. I just wet my pants again.”
Between the Albie ‘yeah, right, 25’ gag and the AJ paragraph, I’ve found my new favorite sports writer.
How can I NOT be in a lineup of Desipio crooks?
Sloth, you’re too predictable.
My family has season tickets to see the Bears. We drive up from So. Indiana to see them and it’s like the highlight of our entire year when they actually win a game. So far wins over Detroit and Minnesota have us as happy as a dog with 2 peters.
But my dad and my uncle don’t like to have to climb over people to get to the isle to go have a piss. They wrote to the ticket office last year and asked for an isle seat. My uncle gets a letter back from a McCaskey. Don’t know which one. Not Ed or Mike or the old broad. It told him the Bears would be very happy to accomodate him and gave him two on the isle. We’re still in the North endzone but instead of about midway up and in the middle we’re at the very top row of the sumbitch, right below something called the Miller Lite Party Deck which is the only place you can smoke cigarrettes and watch the game. And that’s the only reason people go there. They have this obnoxious asshole of a Mike North clone as an M.C. who periodically gives things like hats and food away and tells people the score like the fucking scoreboards in the bastard don’t work or something. More likely he knows the bastards can’t read.
If it sounds like I’m bitching it’s because I am. And if you want to know the reason why I’m doing it it’s this: I am proof that you can’t trust a McCaskey and if one of them ever tells you he has something you might want. RUN! This includes Bears tickets.
Yes, Most Wanted, it could happen. Last night was torture. I was at my buddy’s bar in CR after reffing a JV football game and we were whooping it up after Berkman’s HR. My buddy is a Cardinals fan and he wasn’t there. so the rest of the anti-Cardinals were all getting ready to call him when, all of a sudden, Lassie walks. I was livid at Lidge. He has been putting WAY too many guys on base for a closer in these playoffs, so it was bound to bite him in the ass sooner or later. My stream of profanities would have gotten me booted from a bar where I was a stranger. I hate baseball.
That’s what your dad and uncle get for pissing in the aisles.
Hey Dave! If you hate baseball, have I got a team for you!
Grab your wallet and let’s have a chat.
Bears fan:
I have season tickets, and I’m the kind that lifelong ticketholders hate. I put myself on the waiting list in 1999, the day after they knocked off the Chiefs in Jauron’s debut. Bought season tickets from a disgruntled holder in 2000 and 2001 for face value (so I got to see every 2001 game in person, which was nice), and in 2002, the Bears told me that if I bought season tickets in Champaign, I’d move ahead of other wait-listers who didn’t. I figured that would be it as I got an application to buy Cadillac Club level PSLs. I definitely didn’t want that. But as soon as that deadline passed, they told me I was eligible for $55 tickets in the upper end zone. I chose the South End Zone, for no other reason than I’d be able to see the skyline.
Our seats are in the top row of the damn thing, and we don’t have the damn party deck, but we have a nice angle even from up there, we can look up at the $1,000 a head “Skyline Suite” idiots, and we have a nice “aisle” behind us, between our seat and the ledge, which I thought about getting on and jumping Sunday when the Bears trailed Minnesota 3-0 and I thought about the painful prospect of a Sox World Series. Anyway, I digress. We’ve had opportunities to upgrade, but we kind of like the top row.
Fuck you #7, you asswipe! You’re a dead man!
These steroids sure do work. I used to have coat-hanger shoulders, but now I have padded coat-hanger shoulders. Too bad I still suck.
Mike, I think I can get you justifiable homicide on Rothschild. And killing a man who wears a sweatervest in an unironic way is only a misdemeanor in this state.
As for the Astros, unless one of their starters pitches a shutout, they’re done. That’s what happens when your whole offense depends on two dink hits, and a 330 foot flyball into the Crawford Boxes.
Enron Stadium’s dimensions remind me of back when the Blackhawks had their smaller than regulation ice surface at the United Center.
Dumbass. That should be Chicago Stadium.
It’s DonOhue, not DonAhue.
And I’d have beaten Rothschild to death with the 1997 World Series trophy, the one that’s catipaulted his entire career.
And I’d just burn MacPhail’s yacht while he was on it sipping on some vintage. Give him a Viking funeral.
BTW I’ve never read the Sports Guy before. Shoot, he’s a good writer, even if he is a Red Sox fan. That’s the best thing I’ve read on ESPN since, umm, ever.
Mike,
Did you mention yacht and Viking?
We can handle this.
#13 that would be George McCaskey, Director of Ticket Operations.
I had it out with him when I went to a preseason game in Champaign and found that our seats were DIRECTLY BEHIND a pillar. Since my dad has had the tickets in his name since about 1957, combined with the fact that I’m a raving lunatic who takes the smallest slight personally, I wasn’t too happy when I called McCaskey to complain. He actually returned my call. he was pretty pissy on the phone (I MAY have provoked him a little, but still). Surprisingly, though, he ultimately did take care of us by moving us to better seats for the 2002 season.
Still, though. That whole organization is one big patronage/nepotism cualdron for all 76 of Virginia’s kids. And most of them come off as real asses.
Hey McDonough, if I hit that $340 million Powerball tomorrow night (so far, I have 10 tickets), we’ll talk.
Imagine the possibilities. Me as The Owner. And all of the Desipiots to help me run the Cubs.
“But seriously … have playoff beards ever not been enjoyable? This could and should be the gimmick that saves the WNBA next season.”
Awesome.
Is the caller there?
Speaking of Powerball, getting these QuickPicks is boring. I’m going to use combinations of uniform numbers from famous Chicago teams. Any suggestions?
Dave,
Hell yeah, buy the Cubs and take our advice. Here’s mine: go get every bad ass, punk bitch with an attitude and put him on the Cubs. Put that “lovable losers” shit in the grave once and for all. We may go down in flames, but at least we’ll go down like men and not North Halstead kittens.
Here are some starters: Mo Alou, Milton Bradley, Joey Belle, Delino DeShields, AJ Eyechart, Jeff Kent, Kevin Brown, Crazy Julian and Eric Gagne.
1
7
10
11
40
Powerball 23
5
10
23
24
33
Powerball 54
8
9
10
11
15
18
22
31
32
34
38
Powerball 46
24
34
40
43
Powerball 46
Dave, You Generally cant go wrong with 23, and of course 9
The day the Baker Basher gets married. It could be the day the Sox win the World Series. 31st may be the end of the world.
Hmm, where’s that wedding, dude? I think I should pay the Rev a visit and speak up when he says “If anyone has any reason these two shouldn’t get married, speak up now, etc. etc.” I should tell the Preacher that the Basher’s just not right. He’s probably racist, dude. And then I c an console the blushing bride by offering her a job. I’d give her my number and tell her to refer to herself as the cute bride when calling me.
You want to WIN the lottery and your considering using numbers of CHICAGO teams??
1908 (longest)
1917 (second longest)
1963 (longest)
1985 (1 since the 60’s)
1998
unless your using only Bulls numbers or maybe Bears numbers, I’d rethink that
No. 33, I know you’d never be able to view a game at the United Center on TV to check out the banners, but the third number should be 1961.
Thank you.
Fuck You Bill, Eat shit and die
I will not eat shit and die. I need to think of my season reservation holders, you know.
I watched that homer almost as long as I watch my groundballs.
Yeah, until that Pujols blast I really didn’t care who won this thing, but since I know what those Astros fans are feeling right now, I gotta go ‘stros.
None of these teams in the playoffs could even hold the jock of anyone on my 1975-76 Big Red Machine. I was the igniter on that team, man I could do it all. I hit for power, stole bases, took the base on balls, great defense. I won the MVP too, did you know that? Yes, I’m probably the greatest human being that’s ever lived, everyone else sucks. Did I tell you the time I…….then I…….I…….me……..me…….then I ……..
Great hit by Allen Pujols. Also a nice play at the plate by Javier Molina in the 2nd. He might be the best St. Louis catcher since…well, me. I used to play for the Cardinals. If Mark Mullins comes out strong in Game 6, then watch out White Sox!
I would have to be St. Louis going to the World Series and losing to the White Sox in devastating fashion, wouldn’t I?
Outcome:
Astros are totally devastated, one strike away from first WS, Clemens moves on/takes up another $18M in payroll, organization in disarray (think 2004 Cubs).
Cardinals lose another WS. Getting there means nothing, since they made it last year. Also instills lack of confidence in future playoffs (think 1991-2005 Braves).
White Sox: 2005 World Champs, puts insane pressure on Tribune Co. to make changes/win.
Am I wrong?
You are wrong.
Sox win = more papers sold = higher TV ratings for Sox next year on WGN TV and Trib-owned Comcast Sports Net = higher revenue for Tribune.
Suits win either way.
This made me sick to my stomach when I heard it (I’m in STL on business of all things)…then my Cards friend sent me the e-mail transcribing this drivel.
Mighty Pujols At The Bat
As heard today on The Paul Harris Show on KMOX…
The outlook wasn’t brilliant for the Redbird nine that day
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play.
With the season on the line, the manager makes the call
Lidge trots out from the pen, and confidently takes the ball.
His fastball clocks at a hundred, his slider can’t be hit
And Redbird fans do cry and swoon, as his warm ups hit the mitt.
The Stroville faithful dance and scream, as one they raise their cheer
Their closer need but three outs, for this to be their year.
The first two batters took their cuts, but Lidge just mowed them down
And the building rocked and strangers kissed, in anticipation of the crown.
But one more out was needed, and the top of the order now due
As Eckstein walked up to bat, the fevered pitch just grew and grew.
Lidge pounded Eckstein with two strikes, he had his good control.
Then out of nowhere something happened; Ecky swung and found a hole.
He took second without a play; all that mattered was at the dish
“One more out” the fans cried out, only this their prayer and wish.
Jimmy Edmonds now dug in deep, his jaw was clinched and tight
And an edge crept into the stands; for they sensed they had a fight.
But Lidge glared in and took the sign, his stuff was such a lock
His pitches flew till the count went full; Jimmy finally coaxed a walk.
Eighty thousand eyes looked on deck, and there saw a famous number
For Pujols, mighty Pujols, stood there ready with his lumber.
He strode easily to the plate, and clenched his mighty fist
The first pitch flew and broke away; Mighty Pujols swung and missed.
And now Lidge gets the sign and now he winds and lets it go
Oh how the cheers are shattered, by the force of Pujols blow.
The silence becomes deafening, the air is all let out
For there is no joy in Stroville, the Mighty Pujols hit it out!
That’s just, that’s just awfull.
I’m sure many in Redbird Nation beat off last night while reading that crap. That’s embarrassing.
Joe, what you’ve just posted is one of the most insanely idiotic things I have ever heard. At no point in the rambling, incoherent prose were they even close to anything that could be considered a rational thought. Everyone on this site is now dumber for having read it. I award you no points, and may God have mercy on your soul.
Oh yeah, and my wife is a common tramp.
Jimmy Edmonds now dug in deep, his ass was clinched and tight (but not nearly as tight as it used to be, what with the glorious ass sex he enjoys)
And an edge crept into the stands; for they sensed they had a fight.
But Lidge glared in and took the sign, his stuff was such a lock
His pitches flew till the count went full; Jimmy begged to suck his cock
I feel much shame. I go away now. Sincere apologies.
Go sit in box, for two minutes, and feel shame, and then go free.
I was coaching in Omaha in 1948 and Eddie Shore sends me this guy who was a terrible masturbator. He would get deliberate penalties so he could get over in the penalty box all by himself and damned if he wouldn’t . . .
“Good morning, Cubs fans! This is Chip Caray, alongside Steve Stone, and we’ve been hired to analyze the World Series for Desipio.com. Many thanks go out to Karry Ling who signed us to this contract, and hopefully this will mean Stoney will finally pick up a check during this World Series. Other than Mr. Ling’s copious use of intoxicating beverages, I was very impressed with him. I can understand why he’s trusted to sign us without Mr. Dolan, the fine proprietor of this place, around to sign off on it. But Mr. Ling said Mr. Dolan would be pleased as punch to hear we were on the payroll.
Anyways, while Steve is checking on the visibility at U.S. Cellular, let me be the first to congratulate the Chicago White Sox, as I know all of you in Cub Nation are. What a poweful lineup with Fleet-footed Scott Podsednik, good-looking first baseman Paul Konerko, and starting pitchers Jose Contreras, Mark Buerhle, Freddy Garcia and Jon Garland. They Clobbered Cleveleand, Ran out the Red Sox, and hammered the halos. They should be a formidable challenge for the National League representative, the Astros.
“But honesty compels me to say that the White Sox will struggle against the killer B’s of Houston: Berkman, Bagwell, and of course the Beege. It’s too bad Adam Everett’s name doesn’t start with a B, but I think you can throw in bullpen as one of the killer “Bs.” That vaunted bullpen will be tough for the Sox to beat. You know, with all those Bs, I’m reminded of that joke I told in Anaheim last year, right Stoney? Har har har. Just like old times here at Desipio Tower.
“Last night was a sterling performance by Roy Harvey Oswalt, the Texas Assasin. While he was quite as sparkling as he was against the Cubs in that game at Wrigley last August, he was mighty tough against the best 24-year-old hitter in history, Albert Pujols.
“Can the White Sox retire the Beege? I don’t think so. He might be the best player in the game today, and while I cannot conduct any live interviews anymore thanks to that Harris Co. Judge that issued the restraining order, I can’t say enough about him…