.... Nice going, Billy Beane. After letting fan favorite and unanimous choice-for-manager, third base coach Ron Washington, slip to a division rival, he either puts up the world's most lackluster pursuit of Frank Thomas or had already decided to let him walk. Either that or the Big Hurt, despite all his words about loving Oakland and wanting to come back however possible, is just like the rest of the greedy money-sniffers that constitute the participants in professional sports. Either way, the result is the same. He signed a two-year contract with the Toronto Blue Jays and booked out of Oakland after only one season. Adios, cleanup hitter, 39 HR/114 RBI. Adios, ace (Zito; 16 wins, 3.83 ERA).
Beane does this every offseason before pulling some crazy scheme out of his ass to save the ship, so as an A's fan I should be used to this, but it never ceases to feel like a gut punch. I was devastated when Hudson and Mulder went, and that worked out, but at the time, man, was I upset. The A's lost a popular coach, an ace, a cleanup hitter, a home, and a manager, and what have they gained? Bench coach Bob Geren, to nobody's surprise, is the latest dull white guy to be named skipper. Also, they get to have a name as ridiculous as that belonging to their SoCal rival, the LAAAAA, which I will continue to call them until I'd be a hypocrite if I did. If we're the Oakland A's of Fremont (''of Fremont" has to be included, but I'll kill myself if it's the Silicon Valley A's of Fremont) the acronym is the OAFs. Wheeeee. What exemplary civic planning.
The idea behind the stadium is that the A's will finally make enough money to retain their high-profile players, instead of letting the rest of MLB pick and choose as they like. It had better work out... oh yeah, and to put the bitter cherry on a really, really frustrating offseason sundae, they're seriously considering signing Barry "Steroid Head" Bonds to fill the vacancy left by Thomas.
I'll take all this moving/renaming/losing crap, but I can't root for Bonds in the green and gold. I just can't. He's a liar and a cheater and a despicable human being, unlike A-Rod, whose only crimes are excessive egomanism and lack of good sense and/or "clutch" hitting. Bonds really is a grade-A asshole. And it's one of the cases when the name on the front of the uniform would not take precedence over the one on the back.
We've already made ourselves laughingstocks for the LAAAA fans, who you can bet will be giving back every drop of grief they received from A's Nation over their name; why not make ourselves universally unpopular and sign the most hated player in MLB? Go for the full monty. Get booed relentlessly on the road and be sniggered at as the team dumb enough to take on Bonds' traveling circus and chemically enhanced skills. You go right ahead and do that, A's management, but remember, you exist in a different stratosphere from the fans, who pay for merchandise and ticketing and keep fattening your pockets, which are still apparently too small to shell out enough to keep Frank Thomas in Oakland.
As a totally unrelated note, Danny Haren is getting married today. Congrats, boy. Let's see if it'll work out for you. Long-distance relationships can be hard.
One very bitter A's fan signing out.
Showing posts with label Frank Thomas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Frank Thomas. Show all posts
Friday, November 17, 2006
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
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.
-------
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
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.
-------
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
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