Archives for posts with tag: Matt Holliday

Enjoying some lunch and reading up on coverage from last night, and came across this on Ryan Franklin’s blog:

“I just felt like I was right where I was supposed to be, and everything
was going like it should. I got Manny Ramirez out, did what I wanted
to. But something like what happened with James Loney, it happens.

I’ll take a ball hit at Matt Holliday any time. He’s going to do whatever he can.”

I never can tell, nor can I ever really believe when I’m told, when/that a player’s doing their own writing.  It was posted at a quarter past 11p so the time’s right, and despite my jokes about Franklin’s shirking of anything powered by electricity, he’s always been comfortable with video cameras.  And he’s always seemed like a man with plenty of usable gray matter between the ears.  The entire post is a short and solid read, and classy from a guy who that night got jobbed by a fielder’s error.

Then there’s ESPN’s recap of the game, which includes some refreshing honesty from Tony La Russa:

“It’s about as tough a loss as you can have, except we still have an
opportunity to play Saturday,” manager Tony La Russa said. “Right now I
think it’s important to get upset about the game that got away. We did
a lot to win that one and didn’t win it. Turn the page too quickly [sic]
means you don’t care.”

And some petulance by Adam Wainwright:

“That ball got lost in 50,000 white towels shaking in front of Matt’s
face,” Wainwright said. “It doesn’t really seem fair that an opposing
team should be able to allow their fans to shake white towels when
there’s a white baseball flying through the air. How about Dodger Blue
towels?”

How about a Cardinals-red ball?  That’d stand out even better.

While I was at Bennington there was a guy there named Lucas.  Lucas invented–or claimed to invent, anyway–two things that made meal time (all the time, really) a lot of fun.

The first was the “elbow of justice,” which I believe has its roots with Martin Luther King, Jr. but has since been extrapolated to its natural, liberal arts college physical manifestation.  Google “elbow of justice” and the first hit is a blog by the same name.  Lucas is the disembodied head in gray second-from-the-right.  I don’t think he submits to it.

The second was the “soft alarm,” which was sounded whenever necessary.  Imagine a group of folks emitting an alto-level imitation of a police siren, but slowly and with zero shriek.  “Wooooooooohhh.”

Now, then, if you’ll permit me:

Adam Wainwright: “It doesn’t really seem fair that an opposing
team should be able to allow their fans to shake white towels when
there’s a white baseball flying through the air.”
Lucas, Paul Vargas, et. al.: “Woooooooohhh.”
AW: “[No, seriously.] How about Dodger Blue
towels?”
L, PV, etc.: “Woooooooohhh.”

AW: “[Guys, cut it out; I’m just trying to get my teammate’s back.]”
Paul: “Buddy, you pitched a solid game.  More than solid.  And what you just said doesn’t make sense.  He charged the ball faster than he needed to; he was well within range; he could’ve picked it up coming out of the sky; he’s an outfielder, for Chrissakes.”

AW: “[I stand by my original statement.]”
Lucas: “He shoulda seen the ball.  It’s his job to see the ball.  It was an error on his part, not on people pumped to see the game, wavin’ towels.  Elbow of justice?”
Everyone except AW: “Elbow of justice.”

::Crowd bends elbows; slams them on nearest broad, flat surface.::

Lucas hails, I believe, from Massachusetts, and is a Red Sox fan.

Watched the Battle Of The Facial Hair yesterday.
 
I didn’t even know I was watching it until about the fifth inning. But after the house’s supply of Olde Tyme Baseballer Jokes at Brendan Ryan’s expense had been depleted, it was time to widen the field.
 
Clayton Kershaw? It’s like he gathered the hair in the shower room sinks and pasted it on his face.  Adam Wainwright? Getting close, but unable to commit.  Casey Blake? Now THERE’S a beard.  And Ryan Franklin?

Hoo boy.

I think he came to the mound expecting to be done in time for the barn raising.

The St. Louis Team Bus was followed to Dodger Stadium by the Ryan Franklin Horse And Buggy.

Ryan Franklin’s endorsement deal isn’t with Mennen; it’s with Mennonite.
 
These are the jokes, folks.
 
Odd what one finds oneself watching when one’s team isn’t in the playoffs. I watched St. Louis at Los Angeles with an eye towards parts.
 
No one on Los Angeles, really. I get the sense everyone there likes being there, or is out to lunch. The latter category includes Manny Ramirez and Ronnie Belliard–who, to his credit, had one of two legitimate hits in the bottom of the ninth to win the game.
 
St. Louis’s top possible is, of course, Matt Holliday, and his homer to start the limited scoring was delightful. His error at the end of the game was less so. But maybe it’s nerves, and maybe if St. Louis goes quietly in three, the focus will be on his error, and his price point will take a small hit. Clue me in: how does St. Louis deal with pariahs? Do they even make pariahs down in St. Louis?
 
Beyond that, very few baseball-related thoughts. I promised myself I’d watch at least most of one game of each division series match; I’ve got Colorado-Philadelphia and Anaheim-Boston to go.
 
No mailbag today; busy up in the hills of Vargasville, with The Wife in town and an early start to this particular day.  But I will provide a public service announcement:
 
Go see Zombieland.  The trailer, as unreal as it was, did NOT do its hilarity justice.  And given the movie’s events, it’s clear to me that not enough of the populace has gone to see it. Otherwise, I’d’ve overheard something to spoil it by now, and been thrown into the red as a result. 
 
See it, because next week belongs to Where The Wild Things Are, which given Disney’s ownership of the Muppets will be the closest thing we’ll get to anything like Labyrinth for a long, long time; you know this, and after it, Zombieland will fade from your consciousness.
 
This concludes my public service announcement. Go Twins/Yankees, Dodgers, Rockies, and Red Sox.