Tonight's The Night The World Begins Again

OPENING NIGHT. Oh, how beautiful those two words are after a long offseason in which there were either a) no games, or b) games that didn't count with the regulars subbed out by the sixth inning for a bunch of no-name scrubs. Spring Training was a vital link that helped me get through the dimness of winter, but after needing time off to recover from the burden of caring so much, every night, my heart is ready to go, ready to soar and fall and go wherever the Cardinals, Athletics, and Rockies do. The Cardinals are kicking off the festivities tonight with an NLCS rematch against the Mets, Chris Carpenter vs. Tom Glavine (and for the record, I guessed every Opening Day starter correctly with the exception of Derek Lowe starting for the Dodgers instead of my pick Jason Schmidt, and Jose Contreras starting for the White Sox instead of either Mark Buehrle or Jon Garland). Also, Kenny Rogers got injured and messed up my pick for the Tigers -- it's Jeremy Bonderman instead. Also, I suppose that I didn't guess Carl Pavano for the Yanks -- who would have? -- so that bumps me down one. Still, 26 out of 30 -- nice job, Hilary.

I'll be liveblogging the game tonight, even though I am deprived of a TV and must rely on fancy-schmancy newfangled Gameday 2007 instead. As the fans celebrate that tenth world championship one more time at Busch before they begin the title defense, here are your starting lineups:

THE NEW YORK METS

Jose Reyes, SS
Paul Lo Duca, C
Carlos Beltran, CF
Carlos Delgado, 1B
David Wright, 3B
Moises Alou, LF
Shawn Green, RF
Jose Valentin, 2B
Tom Glavine, P

THE ST. LOUIS CARDINALS

David Eckstein, SS
Preston Wilson, RF
Albert Pujols, 1B
Scott Rolen, 3B
Yadier Molina, C
Jim Edmonds, CF
So Taguchi, LF
Adam Kennedy, 2B
Chris Carpenter, P

I must admit I'm a bit surprised to see Yadi so high in the lineup, but apparently he hits better with runners on and he needs to do SOMETHING to improve on his .216 mark last year. It's good to see that Jimmy Ballgame is back and ready to go, as there were rampant rumors that he wouldn't be recovered from offseason toe and shoulder surgery in time to make the inaugural game. Dismayed to see Preston Wilson and So Taguchi in there, as both had horrible springs but benefit from La Russa's irrational fascination for them. I'd like to see Chris Duncan in there instead, bad defense and all, as he has power, something which P-Dub and S-Tag don't. Kennedy and Eckstein used to play on the Angels together, so they're a seasoned double-play tandem that should take care of things up the middle. Hopefully, Scotty Rolen is back in fine fettle and ready to rake, and as long as the Cards have the best hitter in the universe, Albert Pujols, sitting in there, they should be all right. 2005 NL Cy Young winner (and 2006 Cy runner-up) Chris Carpenter makes the start.

First pitch scheduled for 8:05 ET, although it may be delayed with ceremony. It warms my heart and gives me chills to think of the riotous welcome the red-clad faithful are going to give their (and my) Redbirds. They're welcoming a world champion back to the house for the first time since Opening Day 1983, and you can bet that place will be rocking tonight.

15 minutes until the world begins again.

GO CARDINALS!!!!!!

Playoffs, Day 8: A Sound as if a Million Sportswriters Cried Out In Terror

....and were suddenly silenced.

Wow. Just wow. I think that the only reason I wasn't crushed about the A's was because the Cardinals were still alive, and making it a respectable series at that. That feeling was vindicated tonight in another amazing Game Five for the Redbirds. Last year at this time, Albert Pujols was launching moonshots off Brad Lidge that probably still have yet to come down, and the series switched back to St. Louis for a sixth game, which the Astros won. Now, the series is switching back to New York for a sixth game, and if the Cards win, they're in. Who would have believed it. No one, absolutely no one, including to some degree myself, gave them a chance in this series. Certain smug Yahoo! sportswriters were publishing snide opinion pieces that the baseball world might as well crown the Mets the champs.

Well, said sportswriters can't be feeling that confident today. Jeff Weaver turned in six outstanding innings - yes, Jeff Weaver. Baby Dunc, also known as Chris Duncan, can't hit lefties and was put in against a lefty that was mowing the Cards down. What does he do? He hits a home run. King Albert retorts immediately after the Mets had scored two early runs with a homer of his own. And Adam... ah, I mean my husband, came in with two on and two out in the top of the eighth and absolutely bedeviled Jose Valentin (who had hurt the Cards earlier) with filthy stuff to end the inning before making similarly quick work of the ninth. I'm so in love with him I don't think it's possible for me to be more. I need to wear my Carpenter shirt tonight because Chris is pitching tomorrow with a chance to punch the Cards' ticket to the 2006 World Series, but DAMN. Adam, my baby.

Wow. To say that I'm thrilled with this turn of events would be a major understatement. And I know that I should write about something besides baseball, but baseball is my life right now. And speaking of writing about baseball, that's actually a job of mine. Yep, I'm now a sportswriter for The Phoenix, SLC's school newspaper, as I was recruited by a friend on the softball team who knows about my mutual passions for a) baseball and b) writing. How enthusiastic am I about this job? I already prepared a piece - 700 words on the World Series. I did two versions of it, one with the Mets as NL champs and one with the Cards as NL champs. I pray I never have a need to send the Mets' one to my editor.

The Mets have to be worried. They admitted they felt tremendous pressure to wrap this up in six games, and now that's not possible, unless of course the Cards wrap up things in six games, which they have a good chance of doing with Carp on the mound tomorrow. They have to win two games started by John Maine and Oliver Perez while the opponent throws the NL Cy Young winner and a guy with a 2.39 ERA after the All-Star break. That has to be in their heads just a little bit. Game Fives are pivotal for series that are tied at 2 - something like 6 of 7 teams that won 5 went on to capture the title.

LET'S GO RED-BIRDS!!!!!

For Your Viewing Pleasure

...a few extra pics from today's Cards celebration.


Well, they must like him, and small wonder, after that man put the team on his broad back and hauled them into the postseason with a little help from Carp. What does victory taste like, Albert? An overload of alcohol?



Wow, I didn't know he could do this. Albert's really cuttin' loose...



Good christ, Albert. What is this, the Pujols Multi-Pronged Dozen-Beer Backloading Assault on Dave Duncan? (Chris Duncan's Papi). Man, is Albert ever lubricated by now. Reminds me of Adam, bless his heart. They had him on for an interview, and he was gibbering wildly, too hyper to answer coherently, and drinking beer in between questions.

Adam, please call me.


Tyler Johnson and Jeff Weaver cut loose. Wow, check out the tattoos on Ty. He seems like a sweet and quiet type, but he does need to get rid of the hunk of chew in his jaw. And Weaver's mullet is a monstrosity. You're not in California anymore, punk. But pitch well in Game 1 and it won't bother me that much.

(For the record, here is what Ty looks like when whatever remaining brain cells he has are not soused in alcohol. Cute kid, huh?)



And here's Ty's pal, catcher Yadi Molina, getting drenched by John Rodriguez, who has a blog. Evidently, he shaved his head, AND remembered his goggles, something which Adam did not. You need to plan these celebrations better, darling, if you're going to be in more. (Hint hint).



I'm out for now. Enjoy!

Playoffs, Day 1: Everything Be Peachy

It's too soon to put on the Nostradamus hat or do any serious prognosticating at all, but you have to like how the pertinent (for me) ALDS and NLDS games turned out today. The A's, the overwhelming underdog (at least according to all the so-called "experts") against the Cinderella Twinkies, pulled off the improbable and stunned the Snack Cakes in the HostessDome. Frank Thomas... man, without him, the A's would have been sitting on their hands and meekly watching the LAAAA trot off with the division again. He's the man who's doing all the heavy lifting that Eric Chavez was supposed to, and Chavy, while I love him, has never demonstrated a propensity for "clutch" heroics.

The Big Hurt brought the pain yet again, jacking 2 HR - one off Johan Santana and one off Jesse Crain - and Marco Scutaro added an RBI double off his fellow Venezuelan. Huston Street survived a Baggy-induced triple to open the ninth, as Milton Bradley lost Michael Cuddyer's routine fly in the cursed Metrodome roof, and flashed his balls of steel by not melting down, as he's had an unfortunate tendency to do against worse teams than the Cinderella Twinkies. End result, 3-2 A's win, 1-0 series lead.

Barry Zito, aside from blogging about the entire post-season experience, also got in on the whole Balls of Steel thing with eight gritty innings to match Santana's. 1-0 isn't anything to pop the champagne corks about, and 2-0 wasn't safe for the A's 3 years ago, but beating Santana is huge. HUGE. Esteban Loaiza goes tomorrow in an attempt to put the A's firmly in the driver's seat before they go home to McAfee, which will be undoubtedly as loud as (or louder, once you factor in the drummers) the Baggydome.

Now, confession time: I didn't watch the game. Not a pitch. Not an inning. I can't handle pressure, and I felt that if we lost here, we were doomed from the outset. I'm still trying not to hope too much - we still have to win two more, and God only knows what can happen in baseball.

My inner optimist is coming out and hopefully snuffling at the air, all the while waiting for the big bad pessimist to return. I don't know what's going to happen, but.... GO ATHLETICS!!! If you see a girl walking around campus at SLC wearing a) an A's jersey, b) an autographed A's home hat, c) an A's AL West Champs shirt, d) an A's ALDS hat, or e) any combination of these, it's definitely me.

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As for the Cards, their game today was all that a very, very nervous Redbird fan such as myself could hope to see. Chris Carpenter turned in a high-quality outing to open the set with the Friars of San Diego, lasting 6.1 innings and allowing 1 run on five hits, with one walk and seven strikeouts. Tyler Johnson finally got command of his finicky slider and worked an inning and a third in relief before handing it off to Adam Wainwright (no words needed. Please pardon this post for a moment):

I SWOON FOR ADAM WAINWRIGHT

But you knew that, right? ;)

Anyway, Adam's stuff was filthy, he came out as pumped as ever, and dispatched of the Padres with a mixture of an absolutely sick curveball and some high-90s heat. We have a closer, and he is GOOD. It's awesome to see. I will wear my Adam shirt to bed tonight with even more pride than usual. :D

As for the offense and defense, they also showed up. Albert Pujols, El Hombre, Yo Daddy, or simply GOD, whichever is easiest to remember, got new life after Mike Piazza (one of the worst defensive catchers in the game, and absolutely hopeless at catching base-stealers) dropped a harmless foul pop. Albert retaliated by taking a fat Jake Peavy offering downtown for a 2-0 Birdie lead, which Carp ensured was never lost. A couple other Cards made contributions as well, most notably Jimmy Edmonds, who had two base hits after returning from post-concussion syndrome. Great to see... I love Jimmy and I'm thrilled that he's back for the postseason.

But the defense was exceptional and may have saved the Redbirds' behind in a major way. Ronnie Belliard made a spectacular sprawling catch and throw from his back to stab a sure-ticket 2-RBI single and end the inning, after Johnson was cleaning up Carp's slight mess in the bottom of the seventh. And Albert flashed the leather (he can field, hit, and use the Force... don't mess with this man) to end the inning after Adam came in and to take an RBI single away from Piazza.

Of course, this is baseball, so everything could change tomorrow. But for a fan nervous that her teams were both going to get steamrolled in the first round, it's good to see. It's also interesting to see all the pundits who predicted a 3-game sweep by the Padres stumble over themselves to mention how good the Cards still are and how they shouldn't be discounted so easily. Try this on for size, talking heads: The Cards are 7-0 in postseason play against the Padres going back to 1996, I believe, and have owned the NL West this season.

Side note: I have a terrible baseball addiction. I was trying to read Part I of Spinoza's Ethics for philosophy class (tomorrow, so I really needed to get it done) and at the same time, I watched the entire Yankees/Tigers game. I don't like either team and would be happy to see them both out of it (although I hope the Tiggers make it to the ALCS, since they'd be easier for the A's). However, that is unlikely. Getting swept by the Royals at home to end the season and cough up the AL Central crown does not bode well for postseason glory.

With slightly more optimism than yesterday, * I close this post with:

LET'S GO OAKLAND!!!!!!
LET'S GO ST. LOUIS!!!!!!


* until Esteban Loaiza and Jeff Weaver probably get shelled tomorrow and send me plunging back to ground zero

An Addendum to Agony

Posted after a little time to chill out, talk to my sister, and get myself psyched up about playing softball for the SLC Gryphons. Which is going to be awesome.

I own two Cardinals T-shirts, one Wainwright and one Carpenter. I usually wear my Wainwright T-shirt to bed, but tonight I'm going to wear Carp. Just because I still love him, even after a really tough outing. The precise reason that this was so gut-wrenching to watch is because you know it didn't have to be that way, because it usually isn't. Chris Carpenter is a stud and he and Albert Pujols make me proud to be a Cardinals fanatic.

I've had some time to mellow, and while this loss is still awful, it'll be okay. It really will. We're still going to clinch the Central, and if that's are far as we go... well, that's okay. No one's really expecting us to do anything else, and if we do go farther, I'll be ecstatic. But I can't help but love them, and that's why baseball rocks my little world.

I'm going to peace out and get some sleep, because I have class early tomorrow and it's philosophy, I want my mind to be fresh. So to bed I go, and I love my Redbirds, because I can't do anything but.

Jose Alberto Pujols is God. Amen.

Sorry for the ridiculous third post in a row within a matter of hours - I must seem like one of those stream-of-consciousness people, which I'm not. And I've never been accused of loquacity either, so this probably comes as a surprise and won't happen again once I get over the first transcendent high of new bloggerdom. But I couldn't let this pass unremarked, and especially not after the gut-wrenching loss that the A's just suffered at the hands of the Twinkies. I happened to look up at the St. Louis game, which I was following only marginally after Jeff Weaver screwed the pooch, and noticed that the final score was Cards 6, Astros 5. It had been 5-4 Astros going into the bottom of the ninth, and I had just braced myself for that devastating double-loss day when neither of my teams can get their heads out of their collective asses and instead meekly hand the game to the other team. Nes pas, when Albert Pujols is in the building.

In case you are not aware, Brad Lidge (Astros closer) is Albert's bitch. I will never forget watching NLCS Game 5 on a television purloined from my grandmother (in our defense, she was out of town and would have had no objection even if she did know) and watching Albert launch that colossal moonshot in the top of the ninth to win the game for the Cards. My sister and I jumped out of our seats and danced around ecstatically. Seriously. Then Mark Mulder, who's fast slipping in my good graces after his terrible season this year, gave it up in Game 6, but you know. Can't have everything and all that.

So, El Hombre worked his magic once again tonight. Two runners on, two out, Cards trying not to follow up Chris Carpenter's gem with a Weaver-piloted clunker. Albert yanks one to left field, Busch Stadium goes berserk, happy feelings abound. Except, not if you're Brad Lidge, and have been presented with resounding proof that you are, in fact, still Albert Pujols' bitch.

That's gotta be in his head for a loooong time now.

Roy Oswalt vs. Jason Marquis tomorrow. My usual expectation of Marquis is that he will suck, and I'm usually not disappointed in this regard. Right now, please join me in this heartfelt and entirely unsarcastic plea:

LET'S GO CHICAGO WHITE SOX!!!!!!

(why, you might ask? They are playing the LaAAAaAAA, only one of the most evil teams on earth).