posted on June 08, 2012 10:36
Our favorite baseball team won a series against the gawd-awful Houston Astros, even dropping two touchdowns on them for good measure in the final game. But this hardly means they’re out of the woods. Houston may as well have “Chico’s Bail Bonds” on the back of their jerseys, with a smartass shortstop and a broad pitching.
The good news is that Cincinnati lost, but the bad news is they lost to Pittsburgh, who is also ahead of us in the standings, which I can’t believe I’m fucking typing. An ideal situation would’ve had everybody losing, just like an Obama presidency. On a “former Cardinal” note, Ryan Ludwick did have 2-homeruns in the effort, sending a lot of Tony La Russa hating St. Louis fans jerking off into a frenzy. But before you go finishing off on Carpe Douche Bag’s back, he promptly struck out looking with 2-on and 2-out in the tenth inning with a chance to tie.
On the home front, our own David Freese had 2-homeruns and 6-RBI in the Astro win, albeit after striking out his first three at-bats. These strikeouts have been a real nuisance of late, but I’ll spare the stats so you have a reason to read Bernie’s column. That guy manipulates Baseball Prospectus like a good Catholic manipulates the bible. You can tell any story you want if you twist the statistics just right.
The injury curse continues to haunt this team and I’m beginning to wonder if the Cardinals made a deal with the devil to win that World Series last fall. “Just give us this goodbye gift to TLR and we’ll take all you have to throw at us next season, along with inexplicably employing Al Hrabosky for another year.”
Jaime Garcia is the latest to take the fall and it’s a dreaded shoulder malady, of which we’ll undoubtedly spend weeks contemplating the actual severity of. Top tier players seem to drop at the pace of Lindbergh girl’s panties at a Fox party in 1988. It’s one starter after the next and, like that South County whore who ventured down to the back roads of Jefferson County, the whole team is getting fucked.
Other than the Mets debacle, the offense continues to produce like a guest on “Maury”, without all of the yelling and ghetto hand-clapping. Pitching is still the Achilles Heel and, with Garcia now in question, a move may be necessary to shore things up. Adam Wainwright remains a mystery from one start to the next, Kyle Lohse and Jake Westbrook seem to be reverting to their career forms and who knows how long they can ride the Lance Lynn train.
You have no real confidence with these starters going into any game lately and the bullpen has been far less than a comfortable scene. What ended last season as a well-defined, lockdown unit is now more erratic than an episode of “How I Met Your Mother”, yet still much more watchable.
The abortion that is interleague play is next on the menu and things could get rough with Chicago, Detroit and Cleveland on the slate. There are 6-games in there with the Royals, which should be like playing Stephan Hawking in one-on-one soccer, but still doesn’t make that awful sport any less gay.
For now, in the words of illustrious Army Commander George Armstrong Custer, bring on the tribe. Let’s hope this weekend meeting with the Indians ends a little better than his did. Jesus, what will I ever do if I land a real writing gig and have to bow at the calloused knees of political correctness? I’ll probably never find out.
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