Cardinals 16, Rangers 7: I Think I Hate Narrative

guess where this one's going

So, after Game 2, which apparently St. Louis totally lost because Albert Pujols made a whisper of an error cutting a ball off on a bad throw from right in the ninth, Pujols, along with a couple of other Cardinals veterans, declined to speak with the media. This meant we were in for a couple of days of the dumbest possible stuff, if you are foolish enough to read the papers, which apparently I am. Here are the two things I learned about Albert Pujols in the last few days: (i) he is selfish, and (ii) he is definitely not a leader. These things we now know, because Albert Pujols did not make himself available to answer "how did it feel when you . . .?" questions after an awesome game where everybody should have had more than enough to write about. The biggest unanswered question coming out of all of this, in my view, has nothing to do with why Pujols misplayed the cutoff; it's why anybody would ever want to ask Pujols about anything in the first place, since he is amazingly uninteresting even by the lofty standard of uninteresting set by professional athletes. He's a proselytizing evangelical who is sure as can be that "everything happens for a reason," which is all well and good for him, I suppose, except that it means that there is only really one answer to every single question the man has ever been asked, and at this point we've heard it. "Albert, talk about [thing that occurred in a baseball game]," he is invariably asked, to which he reliably replies, "Well, everything happens for a reason and [brushes off rest of question]." And that's fine. I don't care that he's a bad interview. I don't care that he espouses a worldview that I do not share or that he spoke at Glenn Beck's big stupid thing. None of that matters to me in the least for one simple reason, and that reason is dingers (or, if you prefer, taters); he hits them, and they are awesome. 


And last night, of course, Pujols dingers were in glorious abundance, but it is clear that we are not going to be allowed to just enjoy those dingers qua dingers, but instead as part of a narrative unfolding between Albert Pujols and the media, in which media members themselves now get to be part of the story, which seems to run like this: "Albert Pujols was silent after his decisive error in Game 2, but his big bat spoke volumes to us last night and answered many of the questions we had about him and so maybe he is indeed a leader of some kind even though we were sure a minute ago that he wasn't and that he was instead a fraud of some type PS this is still totally about us." Please note that in the previous sentence I am at once quoting both nobody and everybody. Even my main man (well, he is certainly among my mainest of men) Dan Shulman couldn't avoid this kind of nonsense last night on the ESPN Radio broadcast, which was a little dispiriting (though I will not hold it against him, and in fairness he did preface the matter a couple of times with words along the lines of "not everybody will care about any of this, but . . ."). Anyway, there's nothing interesting here, really. I don't know why I'm carrying on. Sportswriters have long been the worst; they continue to be the worst; here they are being the worst, etc. 



But hey, how about Albert Pujols! Before last night, nobody in World Series history had ever had four hits, two home runs, and five runs batted in the same game. Pujols, last night, went 5-6 with 3 HR and 6 RBI. The only other players to ever hit three home runs in a single World Series game are of course Babe Ruth, who did it twice, and Reggie Jackson with his cool glasses and earflapless batting helmet, as well you know. It was easily the most amazing single-game World Series performance by a batter in my lifetime, and it totally felt that way while it was going on. It was still totally a game until Pujol's three-run shot in the sixth, too: 8-6 is workable, whereas 11-6 is entirely not. So while this was not Jackson's three home runs on three pitches in a 4-3 game, it wasn't an utterly empty three-homer World Series game (if such a thing is even conceivable). And fourteen total bases? Totally a record (wordplay).


Hey, you know who had an awful night? Mike Napoli: a swipe tag at first that should have been a double play had Ron Kulpa not missed it (great call on the Kinsler slide in Game 2; horrible call here), a two-run throwing error, and thrown at the plate (click here to see that play, and watch the clip all the way through to see Ron Washington, like gallop in sympathy and anticipation). That sucks.   


Finally, tremendous propers to ESPN Radio's Bobby Valentine, who mentioned early on, when Pujols was hitting but lowly singles, that Albert looked totally dialed in and was right on the ball. Valentine was of the opinion that sooner or later, Pujols was probably going to hit one out last night. Good eye, Bobby V!


KS

Washington, Washington

from left to right: cocaine, Ron Washington, Josh Hamilton

Because the medium through which we are communicating with one another is the internet, you are already well familiar with the original, and so why belabour it? Here is another one. Enjoy.




Furthermore . . .

In summation, if, when thinking about this year's World Series, you even for a second prefer Tony La Russa to Ron Washington, you are incorrect.


KS

Rangers 3, Tigers 2: Maybe Justin Verlander's Arm is An Affront to God

if you do not enjoy a brick backdrop behind home plate then we are very different people

What if Justin Verlander is like a quilt without a flawed stitch, and comes too close to perfection, which offends Him, and so He, in His infinite wisdom, makes it rain as though He were Jim Jones featuring Lil' Wayne, and compels Tim Welke to squeeze him (as opposed to Him) on the corners? Am I wrong? Almost certainly, yes. I admit that I went to bed at the beginning of the second rain delay, and so was not witness to the remaining several innings in which no runs were scored, and so I am just a guy with a box score and a video highlight package from MLB Advanced Media, so rather than attempting any kind of analysis here I would instead like to show you pictures of both managers from last night's game that kind of capture the essence of the respective dudes, in my view:

Not pictured: cigarettes between every finger on either hand.

. . . high five high five high five high five high five high five high five high five high . . .

And here's a picture of Leyland and Washington hanging out at the cage:

Ron Washington: Oh yeah, you saw it?
Jim Leyland: Yeah man I really liked that one scene where you were at Hatteberg's house and Brad Pitt was like "it's not that hard; tell 'em, Wash" and you were like "it's incredibly hard" and I was like lol

This one is maybe even better:

Above: baseball managers

I also really like these two of Cabrera and Josh Hamilton -- imagine, if you dare, the shenanigan/monkey shine potential of this pairing--about to head in at the start of the second rain delay:

rainin' hard or hardly rainin' lol

seriously though let's get together

Something I am always on the lookout for is photographs of pitcher's follow-throughs -- I can't explain why -- and this game did not disappoint:

Anyway, I could spend all morning showing you photos from a baseball game I didn't watch all the way through, but eventually you just have to start your day, you know? Even Sundays.


KS

Rangers 4, Rays 3: Nice Ups, Adrian Beltre

Touch 'em all

Jeremy Hellickson is a philosophical problem: if you are a pitcher who throws pretty much nothing but changeups, do you actually throw a changeup at all? This is not strictly speaking true, this thing I have just said about Jeremy Hellickson, but dang does that guy throw a lot of changeups! Ian Kinsler hit the second pitch of the game (a changeup) out of the park, and Adrian Beltre hit three solo home runs as the Rangers edged the Rays to make their second ALCS appearance in a row, which is pretty rad of and for them. Good series, guys! I would like to note in closing that this deciding game was played before a truly lousy crowd of 28,299, making it the worst-attended MLB playoff game in thirty years. Good job, Tampa! 

Huzzah!

Nolan Ryan and Ron Washington and also some other guy (far left)

KS

Rangers 4, Rays 3: Another Dandy!

If thinking about Ron Washington makes you any less happy than Ron Washington himself appears in the above photo, then you have missed the point of literally everything ever and I don't know that we can even continue this conversation, frankly.

Holy cow! What a game! Headed into the seventh, the only run either team had scored came on the Rays only hit, a Desmond Jennings solo shot in the fourth. But then! A four-run Texas seventh: Mike Napoli, who was unawesomely traded by the Blue Jays for Frank Francisco only to go on to have perhaps the third-best offensive season ever by a catcher, hit a two run shot; and Josh Hamilton pulled a single into right to plate a pair. The Rays chipped away -- and Desmond Jennings hit another one out, no big deal -- but Neftali Feliz nailed down the four-out save to, well, to save it, really. 


Baseball!


KS