I'm still totally gay for the White Sox.
Thursday, October 27, 2005
Black coat, white shoes, black hat, Cadillac
Hats off to Brandon Backe. I thought he was toast heading into Game 4, but he pitched the game of his life with seven shut-out innings. Textbook dominance -- he really seems to turn it on when the situation calls for it. I wish I could say the same for the rest of the Astros squad, who never really got into the game. Freddy Garcia and the Sox relievers kept painting the outside corners with two types of junk: high and low. And the Astros anemic line-up kept swinging and missing. Whiff, whiff, whiff.
It's tough to turn it on in the postseason. Just ask Barry Bonds. And it sorta sucks that Clemens, Bagwell and Biggio -- the latter two cornerstones of this humble franchise -- have to go out like this. If you're an Astros fan, you have no right to be pissed at Brad Lidge. I'm not even second guessing Garner's decision to pull Backe after 100 pitches and throw Lidge (now 0-3 in the 2005 postseason) into the bonfire, because the 'Stros got killed by their Achilles heel: too little depth on the bench and bullpen.
I'd like to say that I predicted this from the onset; the late-season White Sox slide left a few doubts about momentum in the playoffs, but they destroyed the Red Sox and Angels. None of the starters pitched a bad game in the postseason. And after that, there shouldn't have been any doubt as to who the World Champs were. And yet, all of the ESPN braintrust either picked the Astros or (in the case of wunderkinds Neyer and Gammons) the Sox in six or seven. Even the poll on ESPN currently favors the Astros as winners. I guess it's hard finding someone to identify with on a team with 2/5 of a Yankees rotation and one of the most hated men in baseball (catcher AJ Pierzinski). Big Frank? Nah. Paul Konerko? For the week or so before he hits free agency, yeah. Ultra-humble MVP Jermaine Dye? Uhhh....
Oh wait, here's the true MVP: Ozzie Guillen. The only thing more fun than watching Barbara Bush repeatedly making the O-face when the camera panned on her in the stands was seeing Guillen writhe and contort and -- ultimately errupt into paroxysms of joy -- in one nail-biter of a contest. Fox didn't even know how to market this, with Joe Buck and Tim McCarver reading off the neighborhoods on Chicago's South Side that support the Sox (Hyde Park? Not) and zero mention of Nellie Fox during the post-game highlight reel. Here's to the 2005 World Champion White Sox: one of the most dominant postseasons on record and still, regrettably, nobody's team.
Hats off to Brandon Backe. I thought he was toast heading into Game 4, but he pitched the game of his life with seven shut-out innings. Textbook dominance -- he really seems to turn it on when the situation calls for it. I wish I could say the same for the rest of the Astros squad, who never really got into the game. Freddy Garcia and the Sox relievers kept painting the outside corners with two types of junk: high and low. And the Astros anemic line-up kept swinging and missing. Whiff, whiff, whiff.
It's tough to turn it on in the postseason. Just ask Barry Bonds. And it sorta sucks that Clemens, Bagwell and Biggio -- the latter two cornerstones of this humble franchise -- have to go out like this. If you're an Astros fan, you have no right to be pissed at Brad Lidge. I'm not even second guessing Garner's decision to pull Backe after 100 pitches and throw Lidge (now 0-3 in the 2005 postseason) into the bonfire, because the 'Stros got killed by their Achilles heel: too little depth on the bench and bullpen.
I'd like to say that I predicted this from the onset; the late-season White Sox slide left a few doubts about momentum in the playoffs, but they destroyed the Red Sox and Angels. None of the starters pitched a bad game in the postseason. And after that, there shouldn't have been any doubt as to who the World Champs were. And yet, all of the ESPN braintrust either picked the Astros or (in the case of wunderkinds Neyer and Gammons) the Sox in six or seven. Even the poll on ESPN currently favors the Astros as winners. I guess it's hard finding someone to identify with on a team with 2/5 of a Yankees rotation and one of the most hated men in baseball (catcher AJ Pierzinski). Big Frank? Nah. Paul Konerko? For the week or so before he hits free agency, yeah. Ultra-humble MVP Jermaine Dye? Uhhh....
Oh wait, here's the true MVP: Ozzie Guillen. The only thing more fun than watching Barbara Bush repeatedly making the O-face when the camera panned on her in the stands was seeing Guillen writhe and contort and -- ultimately errupt into paroxysms of joy -- in one nail-biter of a contest. Fox didn't even know how to market this, with Joe Buck and Tim McCarver reading off the neighborhoods on Chicago's South Side that support the Sox (Hyde Park? Not) and zero mention of Nellie Fox during the post-game highlight reel. Here's to the 2005 World Champion White Sox: one of the most dominant postseasons on record and still, regrettably, nobody's team.
Saturday, October 08, 2005
Dewey Defeats Truman
You're a Red Sox fan, and I pity you. Boomer got spanked and the blood on Curt Schilling's sock formed the shape of three straight losses. This is the postseason, where excellence is rewarded and dynasties are formed and shattered. There's isn't a lot of luck, Arizona Diamondbacks and Florida Marlins, be damned. Now it's my turn to gloat. The Red Sux faithful have a World Series ring to brag about and a giant payroll to reconcile for next year and beyond. This one is for the Chi-town massive. Imagine: the White Sox spent an entire season trying to find a closer, Takatsu and Hermanson tanked, and one Bobby Jenks suddenly materialized to nail the door shut on two postseason victories. Is he for real? Who cares? Look at Adrian Hernandez dropping a load in his pants in the picture -- it doesn't matter! While the remnants of Hurricane Rita pummel the Eastern Seabord, it's all clear skies in the Windy City. Want a reminder of how bad the White Sox need this? Ok, now slap on the wraparound shades and prepare to be blinded.
You're a Red Sox fan, and I pity you. Boomer got spanked and the blood on Curt Schilling's sock formed the shape of three straight losses. This is the postseason, where excellence is rewarded and dynasties are formed and shattered. There's isn't a lot of luck, Arizona Diamondbacks and Florida Marlins, be damned. Now it's my turn to gloat. The Red Sux faithful have a World Series ring to brag about and a giant payroll to reconcile for next year and beyond. This one is for the Chi-town massive. Imagine: the White Sox spent an entire season trying to find a closer, Takatsu and Hermanson tanked, and one Bobby Jenks suddenly materialized to nail the door shut on two postseason victories. Is he for real? Who cares? Look at Adrian Hernandez dropping a load in his pants in the picture -- it doesn't matter! While the remnants of Hurricane Rita pummel the Eastern Seabord, it's all clear skies in the Windy City. Want a reminder of how bad the White Sox need this? Ok, now slap on the wraparound shades and prepare to be blinded.
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
Carpenter's in, let the games begin
Boo.
Boo yaa!
No duh.
I walked into a job interview this afternoon and saw a young girl at the receptionist's desk, sniffling. She was wearing a Red Sox cap. Then I looked up at the Plasma screen above her head and watched the White Sox pound it out in a 4-run 6th inning. Wow. Coulda, woulda, shoulda been there -- here's to hoping Chi-town's finest didn't blow through all their heavy ammo in the first game.
The St. Louis game was -- as everyone predicted -- a dud-o. Watch the Cards coast on auto-pilot through the series with Carpenter, Mulder and Morris on the mound serving up tasty treats and the St. Louis playing leapfrog with the meatiest part of their batting order. C'mon, the Padres are pushing Pedro Astacio out on the mound for Game 2. Seriously, that shit will not fly when the NL's best team meets the NL's most dangerous team. I may just skip this series and tune in later to soak in the greatness that is the Clemens-Pettitte-Oswalt rotation. Jayson Stark predicts Houston goes all the way.
Gimme an Astros-White Sox series for Hanukkah, yo.
Boo.
Boo yaa!
No duh.
I walked into a job interview this afternoon and saw a young girl at the receptionist's desk, sniffling. She was wearing a Red Sox cap. Then I looked up at the Plasma screen above her head and watched the White Sox pound it out in a 4-run 6th inning. Wow. Coulda, woulda, shoulda been there -- here's to hoping Chi-town's finest didn't blow through all their heavy ammo in the first game.
The St. Louis game was -- as everyone predicted -- a dud-o. Watch the Cards coast on auto-pilot through the series with Carpenter, Mulder and Morris on the mound serving up tasty treats and the St. Louis playing leapfrog with the meatiest part of their batting order. C'mon, the Padres are pushing Pedro Astacio out on the mound for Game 2. Seriously, that shit will not fly when the NL's best team meets the NL's most dangerous team. I may just skip this series and tune in later to soak in the greatness that is the Clemens-Pettitte-Oswalt rotation. Jayson Stark predicts Houston goes all the way.
Gimme an Astros-White Sox series for Hanukkah, yo.
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