Posted 12:52 PM by Brian
BOOK UPDATE With royalties from the sale of the Redbird Nation Reader, we've managed to raise $500 for the March of Dimes. Thank you, everyone, for your generous help. You've added a little good to the world.

Pitchers and catchers report in two days. Let's get those final four wins this year...

Posted 6:37 PM by Brian
REDBIRD NATION: THE BOOK! As I promised a few weeks back, this very website is now a book. It weighs in at 248 pages -- a rich, savory slice of the best of Redbird Nation. So if you care to re-live the ups and downs of the last two Cardinals seasons, follow this link to Lulu.com and order yourself a copy.

The book costs $16.00 before shipping -- of that, $10.80 goes to Lulu for production and $5.20 goes to the March of Dimes, a charity which is dear to my family. Neither I nor my editor, Brian Cook, will take money from sales of this book. Supposedly A Redbird Nation Reader ships within 3-4 days of purchase, which makes it an ideal stocking stuffer (hint hint).

If you have any questions about the style or content of the book, do not hesitate to write me an email or, better yet, just leave a comment below and I'll reply as quickly as I can. Hope the wintertime is treating you all well.

Posted 8:32 AM by Brian
OH YEAH, ONE MORE THING... I'm still retired, but I wanted to let you know that a friend of mine offered to go into the archives of Redbird Nation, edit them, and bind them into a book. If you're interested in obtaining a copy, drop me an email and let me know (this would not be a commitment to purchase the book, just a reminder to add you to the mailing list). Hopefully we can put together "A Redbird Nation Reader" fairly cheaply, and any money we take in over production and distribution cost would be donated to the March of Dimes. So again, let me know if you're interested. Thanks.

Posted 7:32 PM by Brian
HANGING UP MY CLEATS This is the final post at Redbird Nation. My regular readers will notice that my postings have been slim to none lately, and with each passing day it's becoming clear that I'm not on winter hiatus. I'm giving up the baseblog business entirely.

Several things led me to this decision, most of them too boring or personal to detail here. But suffice it to say that I have not at all lost my love for blogging or for Redbird Nation. I do, however, miss the other loves of my life -- spending more time with friends, or watching movies, or getting outside, or working harder on my day job, and all the other things that fell by the wayside during my daily blogathon. As you can guess, keeping Redbird Nation fresh and lively is a huge time and energy commitment, and the sacrifices I'd have to make to come back for a third year are too great.

Some of you may ask, "well, couldn't you just scale back how much work you put into Redbird Nation?" And yes, I toyed with several possibilities. I could do shorter posts, or write less frequently, or only write on weekends, or every other day, or join some bigger blog collective where I had fewer duties, or ask for more co-writers or guest writers, or whatever. But I know myself well enough to know that I'm lousy at doing things halfway. Last winter, for example, I vowed that I'd post less, let things slide more. And yet somehow I ended up posting damn near every day. It's just one of those things where I have to go either cold turkey or whole hog, and it looks like the turkey has finally won.

But I do want to thank everyone for their dedication to this site the last couple years. Not just Flynn, but my family members (Alec, Matt, Judge, and Mark) who wrote pieces or gave technical help along the way. Also the various bloggers who either inspired me or gave me grist for ideas and arguments. And finally, all of you, whose dedication as readers and commenters made Redbird Nation a truly dynamic community. When we first started this thing I was thrilled to get one or two dozen visitors a day. By the end we were getting thousands. But somehow, amazingly, the discussions never got watered down or gave way to a mob mentality (the bane of so many other comment threads and chat rooms). With very few exceptions, your debates and contributions were both passionate and above-board. So I thank you for that.

You know, it's been a dream of mine since I was a kid to be a sportswriter. Ever since that day in Little League when I put down a bat for good (as well as those heavy batting helmets with those spongy linings cold with someone else's sweat), it's been clear that I make a much better baseball spectator than baseball player. They say that those who can't do, teach; but I think it's truer these days to say that those who can't do, write (I mean, have you seen the average teacher's salary lately?). Weblogs -- that do-it-yourself medium that welcomes smart-asses and dumb-asses alike -- gave me the opportunity to play sportswriter for awhile, and it was a real thrill while it lasted.

And as for the Cardinals, well, in our very first post we vowed "to write and think and talk enough about the Cardinals that we help bring a World Championship to St. Louis, where it goddamn belongs." Obviously we didn't do that. Some will say we came close this year; others will say that we were still miles away. Either way our fandom will continue, and there are plenty of other great Cardbloggers out there to carry the torch after RBN is gone. (And if I get the itch and start haunting the Web again, you can most likely find me over at The Hardball Times.)

There's a quote by Lee Strasberg that I love. I'm not even sure what it means exactly, but I keep coming back to it now and again, like a talisman. Strasberg said "there are times when you pick up your shoes and see through them your whole life." That’s sorta how I feel about baseball – you pick it up and through it you see your entire life. Thanks for allowing me to do that publicly and communally. It was a fun little trip around the bases.

Posted 2:02 PM by Brian
HARDBALL, WITHOUT CHRIS MATTHEWS If you're looking for an early Christmas present for yourself or your loved ones, consider The Hardball Times Baseball Annual, which has lots of cool articles and data, including a piece by yours truly.

Posted 11:17 PM by Brian
CLIP SHOW I wouldn't be surprised if many of you were feeling like Rod Kanehl last week. You know who Rod Kanehl is, don't you? Mets infielder, played in the mid-'60s. Source of one of my favorite quotes of all time. "Baseball," said Kanehl, "is a lot like life. The line drives are caught, the squibbers go for base hits. It’s an unfair game."

The Cardinals, of course, put up what is universally regarded as one of the worst World Series performances of all time -- one of those rare Fall Classics with no silver linings, no small pleasures or nice memories along the way. It was so bad that at times I found myself questioning everything that led up to it, wondering if the rest of the season was even worth it. And every time I asked this question I got the same reply:

Hell yes, it was worth it! Screw Rod Kanehl! Life was awfully good to Cardinal fans in 2004 -- the line drives got down and went to the wall, the squibbers were gobbled up by Scott Rolen and gunned over to Pujols for the out. The game was very fair to us this year, regardless of how things went down in October. Think of it like the movie Cast Away -- lousy ending, but some damn fine stuff along the way.

So as we head into the long winter (well, not that long -- pitchers and catchers report in just 14 weeks), let's take one last look back at the year that was. And no shouldas or couldas or might've beens -- this is only the good stuff...

THE TOP FIFTEEN GAMES OF THE YEAR

1. Rolen Punches Ticket to the Big Dance (10/21). Game 7 of the NLCS. Who knew this would be our last hurrah? But not a bad way to go out -- Jeff Suppan besting the Rocket, Al Pujols with the big game-tying hit, and Mr. Hoosier Daddy himself, Scott Rolen, with the big blow.

What We Said Then: How many of you thought of McGwire's #62 when Rolen's drive landed a couple feet above the wall and a couple feet right of the foul pole? Rolen's blast will go down as one of the biggest homers in franchise history -- up there with Ozzie's and Jack's shots in the '85 NLCS and Kenny Boyer's grand slam in Game 4 of the '64 Series.

2. The Day Before That (10/20). Game 6 of the NLCS. It was only two weeks ago, but already I've forgotten everything about this game except Jim Edmonds' jack and, right afterwards, his crackle of jubiliation at home plate.

What We Said Then: [Y]ou'll be able to run into any St. Louisan in any bar across the country, or sit next to them on any plane ride, and ask them, "where were you when Edmonds hit that homer?" Me, I was watching the game in my living room, and after Edmonds got all of it, I sat there relieved and content, with the calm of a Tibetan monk. About four seconds later I blew out my vocal cords.

3. The Pujols Game (7/20). Payback for The Sandberg Game, 20 years in the making. This game was full of thrills and chills -- a 7-run second by the Cubs, a masterful job by the Cards' pen, a home run by So Taguchi (!), and a 5-for-5, three-homer day from our Big Guy at first.

What We Said Then: [T]here's one giant difference between the Cardinals and the Cubs: they don't have Pujols. I know, that sounds academic, if not a little glib, but I feel like it needs to be said. Because even though I just got done talking about the Cubs wilting in the heat (and yes, Carlos Zambrano and LaTroy Hawkins did flip their lids the last couple days), the Cubs didn't lose because they don't have heart, or because they're quitters, or any of that nonsense. To make that case is practically an insult to the excellence of our team. No, the Cubs lost because they don't have Pujols.

4. Cards Save Best for Last (7/16). This was a wild one. The Cards were listless all night long, one out away from going into the ninth on the wrong end of a 5-4 score, when Marlon Anderson cranked a three-run pinch-hit homer to give us the lead. Jim Edmonds sealed the deal in the bottom of the ninth with an eye-popping backhanded grab to rob Jason LaRue of a surefire home run.

What We Said Then: Marlon Anderson's gigantic three-run pinch-hit bomb might be our hit of the year, and Jimmy Edmond's snag on Jason LaRue's ninth-inning drive is undoubtedly the play of the year. Not only is it, I think, his best catch in a Cardinals uniform, it's the perfect snapshot for our season so far. The look-what-I-found sense of glee on Jed's face as he hit the ground sums up my feelings about the 2004 Cardinals.

5. Clincher (10/10) Game 4 of the NLDS, when we wrapped it up in L.A. It felt like a nail-biter, but it really wasn't -- the Cards jumped out to an early lead and held on thanks to the clinchworthy Jeff Suppan. In retrospect this game seems somewhat bittersweet, first because it was our only road win of the playoffs, and second because of the feel-good postgame handshakes, which might never be repeated.

What We Said Then: Before every postseason series they say a little guy -- someone unexpected, someone like Brian Doyle or Donn Clendenon or Tom Lawless -- will step up and be the hero. And then again, sometimes the hero is the biggest guy with the biggest target on his back. Tonight Pujols played like, well, Albert Pujols. Or, as one Dodger fan behind me muttered in despair, "the guy's a one-man wrecking crew."

6. Zambrano Loses Cool, Game (7/19). This was the one where Scott Rolen hit a game-breaking homer off of Carlos Zambrano and Zambrano retaliated by plunking Edmonds on the very next pitch. His rationale for the tantrum -- he thought Edmonds shouldn't have admired his yard job earlier in the game -- was made all the funnier a few weeks later, when Zambrano hit a home run in Cincinnati and stood at home plate until the ball left the park.

What We Said Then: Last March, while being interviewed by Dan Patrick and Rob Dibble on ESPN Radio, Dusty Baker mentioned the Astros and Reds as the main competition for the Cubs this year. Dibble asked him about anyone else, and Baker said Milwaukee has a really improved ballclub. Well, he was right about Milwaukee -- they're only a game and a half behind Chicago.

7. High Water (9/5). The game itself wasn't much: a Cardinals win that lacked elegance (Izzy gave up 3 in the ninth to send it to extras). But as the high water mark of our season, at 92-44, it's a stand-in for the stunning regularity with which this team brushed aside their opponents. It came at the end of a nine-game winning streak, including back-to-back sweeps of San Diego and L.A., and capped off three months where the Cards won more than three-quarters of their games. Sadly, if you include the playoffs, the Cards would lose more games than they'd win from that point forward.

What We Said Then: It's gotten to the point with the Cards where I'm suffering a form of white liberal guilt -- I'm almost ashamed of all this prosperity. Even today, the Dodgers have a furious rally in the ninth, scoring three with two outs against our ace closer. A dramatic pennant-drive win for the Boys in Blue, right? Oh, no, sorry, someone forget to tell them we win every single damn day. It's honestly getting a little weird. A friend of mine wrote me an email today complimenting me on the Cards' success, and this is how I replied: the cards are 92-44. the best thing: i've never lived through anything like this. the worst thing: i never will again.

8. Back to Our Old Selves (10/5). Game 1 of the NLDS. After waiting weeks and weeks for the playoffs to begin, the Cards unleashed their fury on Odalis Perez and the Los Angeles Dodgers, erupting for 5 runs in the span of ten pitches and reminding everyone that they were a force to be reckoned with.

What We Said Then: Before the game there was widespread speculation that the Cards were flat. They finished the year dropping five of their last seven games, with several of their best players in a serious funk. In fact, one could argue that the Cards hadn't played a truly meaningful game since July 20th in Chicago, making the prelude to the postseason seem like some icky form of tantric sex. Had the Cards peaked too soon? Would they be able to access the "on" switch in time for the playoffs? The Dodgers, on the other hand, were supposedly on all cylinders, full of September magic, able to leap tall ninth-inning deficits in a single bound. But it was the Dodgers who came out looking limp and listless...

9. Interleague Fun (6/17). The Birdinals capped off a sweep of the Oakland A's with three runs in the bottom of the ninth, the last off a Reggie Sanders' walk-off single. This came in the middle of a run in which the Cards would win 11 of 12 against American League foes.

What We Said Then: I confess: somewhere around the 5th inning I had this game written off as a loss. We’d already won the first two games of the series, we were facing Tim Hudson, and as the game went on you got the distinct impression that our best chances had been either booted or thrown away, especially going into the bottom of the ninth down by two and Renteria (fine), McKay (ugh), and Lankford (uninspiring) due up. But sometimes strange things happen...

10. First Blood vs. the Cubs (4/30). Turns out this one was a harbinger of things to come -- the first of several wild 'n' woolly face-offs with the Cubs. The game, which ended on a bases-loaded walk to Mike Matheny, reminded me of my favorite game of all time: the Cards first game against the Mets in 1987, Seat Cushion Night, when they made a statement that they would not be the whipping boys they were the year before.

What We Said Then: Are all the games against the Cubs this year going to be this nerve-wracking? My nails are worn down, there are divots from pacing all over my hardwood floor, and my heart rate is like a hamster's in a Revlon lab... Bottom line: we snuck one from the Cubs, and all the bad mojo we've had at Busch this season came back to us as lucky excess. It was especially sweet because of the playoff atmosphere down at the stadium. It seemed like Duke-North Carolina to me, and we haven't seen much of that this year. Finally something to get excited about.

11. Matheny Guns Down Phils (5/4). One of my favorite endings to any game ever. The frantic last few seconds felt less like a baseball game and more like the Music City Miracle, or the 1972 Munich Clock Controversy, or Kevin Moen running through the Stanford Marching Band. Here's how it happened...

What We Said Then: So Burrell runs the count to 2-2 and fouls of three straight pitches (while I burn about 15,000 calories). The next offering was an explosive fastball, up and over the plate, and somehow Matheny misses it (it almost looked like he got crossed up on the pitch) and the ball ricochets to the backstop. That's when all hell broke loose. Byrd takes off for home, Polanco for third, Thome for second, and Burrell -- who's not the game's fastest customer -- rumbles down the first base line. Matheny races to the backstop and thank God the ball takes a true carom and comes up scoop-ready for Matheny. The fans are going bonkers, screaming and hanging on every milisecond. Matheny fires a cannon-shot down to Pujols at first, who lunges to make the catch, with Burrell's lead foot about three inches over the firstbase bag. Game over.

12. Back-to-Back Jack Attack (10/14). Game 2 of the NLCS. This game, which was played in rain and slop, was in doubt until Pujols and Rolen unloaded off of Dan Miceli in the bottom of the 8th and put the Cards up 2 games to none. It capped a streak in which the Cards won five of their first six playoff games. They'd go only 2-7 thereafter.

What We Said Then: Why in the world Garner let Dan Miceli face Pujols/Rolen/Edmonds in the bottom of the 8th is beyond me. One week ago I was watching Game 2 of the Braves/Astros divisional series, and I saw Garner call on Lidge with one out in the seventh inning. At that moment I knew the Astros were forces to be reckoned with, because the move told me that Garner had learned from Jedi masters Joe Torre and Jack McKeon, that he was willing to bring in his top reliever wherever and whenever he was needed, "by the book" be damned. But perhaps because the Astros ended up losing that game... Garner has completely retreated from that strategy.

13. Renteria's Salami (6/9). For the first two months of the season, the Chicago press played the role of John the Baptist, reminding everyone that Mark Prior would one day ride into Wrigley and save the Cubs' season. But Edgar Renteria's grand slam into the bleachers portended different things for Prior's season.

What We Said Then: Prior is not Mark Prior today. Now he walks Womack (last time ever Taguchi, Womack, and Molina walk in the same inning). 5 BB's, only 1 strikeout, and that was when he K'd Morris. Steve Stone likens this to spring training for Prior.

14. Our First Big Win (4/22). The Cards were a .500 team before this game, and they were a .500 team for a few weeks after. But this was the first game where the 2004 Cardinals found their trademark resiliency. They did a little of everything in this game -- got good starting pitching, good relief pitching, key stolen bases, lots of extra base hits -- before topping the Astros in 12.

What We Said Then: How about La Russa letting Isringhausen pitch two innings for the second time this series? What's more, he brought him into a tie game, on the road, which means that TLR must have looked away from the swirling hypnotic disk that's been telling him to bring in Izzy in save situations only. Folks, this is exactly how you're supposed to use your ace reliever. You use him when the game is tight, when every out actually means something, and you let him pitch a second inning, especially when the opposing hitters are Bagwell, Kent, and Berkman. I hope Tony learned something from the experience.

15. Born-Again Cardinal (9/7). The game itself couldn't have been more ordinary -- a 4-2 win with the NL Central virtually sewn up in early September. But Rick Ankiel's appearance in the 6th inning -- his first in the bigs in over three years -- was one of my favorite moments of the year, the end of a long journey and hopefully the beginning of a new one.

What We Said Then: I'm happy as hell for Rick as a player, but I'm even happier for him as a person. Last July, on the occasion of his 24th birthday, I wrote the following:

In 1999, the Cardinals called up Rick Ankiel for the first time. Tony La Russa said about him at the time, "Everything they've said about him is true. He's the real deal. He's a great talent and he's got good insides and a good head.'' He was 19 years old.

Let's face it -- that sounds less like a birthday greeting and more like an obituary. But you can hardly blame me. Everything I knew about Ankiel and his struggles suggested that his career was effectively dead. Well, tonight we learned that reports of his death were greatly exaggerated.

Posted 11:05 PM by Brian
POSTSEASON POST-MORTEM Every region of the country seems to have its own insecurity. For example, my friend Caitlin is from Mississippi. She has an extremely sharp mind and an extremely thick Southern accent – but no matter where she travels in this country, she runs into people who assume that the latter negates the possibility of the former. And so this prejudice breeds an insecurity among Southerners that the rest of the world sees them as stupid and uneducated.

I live in Los Angeles, and invariably when I meet people actually born and raised in Southern California (a rarity given all the transplants out here), they quickly apologize for their roots, explaining that they’re not as shallow or air-headed as everyone perceives them.

In the Midwest, the great fear is not that we’re dumb or shallow – it’s that we’re negligible. The forgotten. The flyovers. You often see this stereotype in movies. Whenever a screenwriter wants to give you a quick shorthand for Nowheresville, he’ll usually set things in Missouri, or Kansas, or Nebraska.

This is why, when Something Big comes to town, St. Louisans are acutely sensitive – more so than most cities, I think – to what the rest of the world thinks of us. Will they notice us? Are we measuring up? Are we somebody?

Those were the big questions heading into this World Series. And I don’t just mean that in a regional/cultural sense. The 2004 Cardinals had been fighting an inferiority complex all year, from the Big Media types who’d written off the team in the preseason, to the naysayers who said we had too many holes to maintain our big first-half lead, to the doubters who said we lacked enough frontline pitching to go all the way.

So our beloved team – the one that won 105 games in the hinterlands of the NL Central – would be put to the test on the biggest stage imaginable. After all, this wasn’t some backwater skirmish like the ones we had in the 1980s (where we squared off against the hamlets of Milwaukee, Kansas City, and the Twin Cities) – this was Boston, East Coast megalopolis, educational hub of the country, darling of ESPN, trying to win their first world title in 86 years. This was Big Time.

That was the setting as of Saturday night. Five nights later it was all over, with the Cards seeming less like a powerhouse and more like a footnote, or perhaps the answer to a trivia question. And while Cardinals fans are scratching their heads, wondering how this all happened, some East Coast writers are wondering if the Series even happened at all. On Tuesday, for example, Rob Neyer wrote:

Nothing that happens in the 2004 World Series matters. Really matters, I mean... because what really matters already happened, last week when the Red Sox beat the Yankees.

"Let's face it, Red Sox-Yankees was the World Series."

As much credit as you give the Red Sox for their comeback, for their pitching, for their performance, this was a lousy World Series. It was a four-game sweep with no lead changes, with three runs scored by Cardinals over last three games. That's not good. Each of the last three games was the same: the Red Sox took an early lead, the Cardinals alternated quasi-rallies and 1-2-3 innings, had a ton of poor at-bats, and rarely mounted a credible threat... The story of the Red Sox is a powerful one, but when you evaluate this Series on its merits, you have to conclude that it was a clunker.

                                    * * * *

I should have seen this coming. Earlier this month, I picked the Dodgers over Cardinals in the Division Series for just the reason the Redbirds lost to the Red Sox. I knew they could have a bad week at the plate if a couple of guys didn't show up, and that they didn't have the starting pitching to carry them through that kind of stretch... Without a complete, 1-9 lineup like the Red Sox have, the Cardinals would rise or fall on the bats of their lineup core. They fell.

                                    * * * *

Even though I didn't buy into the Curse, it was hard not to feel the other shoe waiting to drop... The summer romance with the Sox each year was like dating a great girl who you knew was going to move, break up with you, go to college at the end of the summer, whatever - you always had that nagging thing in the back of your head knowing that it wouldn't last.

                                    * * * *

                                    * * * *

The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone.

Posted 8:23 AM by Flynn
National Respect

Check out the most recent issue of Sports Illustrated. Page 53 - The Redbird Nation blog gets some love.

I'm sure Brian will have an excellent take on the game but the word from my parents was that the atmosphere at Busch last night was "Twilight Zone."

Hey, at least we got a quality start out of our staff....

Just remember, 28 teams would gladly trade places with the Cardinals today. Here's to a tremendous 2004.

Posted 2:55 AM by Brian
POD PEOPLE It's the middle of the night and I just got home. I'm getting on a plane first thing tomorrow morning, so I won't be able to post for awhile. In the meantime let's all commiserate over that re-enactment of Invasion of the Body Snatchers in Game 4. My brother-in-law Alec said it was like the Cards were throwing the World Series, but they were really bad actors and forgot to make it look like they were trying. Sigh...

Congrats to the Red Sox, and thank you to the 2004 Cardinals for one hell of a lot of good memories.

Posted 9:56 PM by Brian
BEDRAGGLED I've had a long day. Got up at 4:20 a.m., took a flight out of L.A. to San Fran, sat in the airport during a layover, flew all the way to St. Louis, got caught in a furious rainstorm on the way to my parents' house, changed my clothes, got caught in bumper-to-bumper traffic on the way to Busch, finally made it to my wet seats, and settled in for a few hours of World Series baseball...

And thought, I came all the way for that?

I mean, what was that? It was less a game than an intricate torture device designed solely to drive us out of our minds. The highlight of the evening was -- well, there were no highlights this evening. I guess Renteria's double off the wall gave me a momentary shiver of pleasure. And Larry Walker's home run would have been glorious and grand, in a different context.

Right now I feel down, depressed, sad, beat, disilllusioned, carried along the four stages of baseball grief -- from "let's win it all" to "let's make it a good series" to "let's not get swept" to "let's at least lose with dignity." I'm not quite at Stage 4 yet. I'm still hoping for a win tomorrow night, one last glimpse of the fine baseball team I followed for the first 173 games of the season. But I've already tightened my stomach and prepared for the worst.

I said before this series began that no matter what happens, we'll never forget this week as long as we live. And sure enough, I'll remember tonight's baserunning snafu by Jeff Suppan 'til the day I die. It's the touchstone for the entire series -- equal parts fluky and inept.

You all know what happened: Suppan was on third with no outs, and Larry Walker hit a slow roller to the right side with Boston playing back and conceding the run. And for whatever reason Suppan simply didn't go home, instead dancing like a yo-yo down the third-base line, seized by a moment of temporary insanity. First baseman David Ortiz made the easy toss over to Mueller and Soup was gunned out. So instead of it being tie game, runner on third (Edgar Renteria moving over from second), Albert Pujols at the dish with one out, it was runner on second, two outs, Red Sox maintain their lead.

How this happened isn't totally clear. Supposedly third-base coach Jose Oquendo was shouting to Suppan "go go go" and Soup heard it as "no no no," so he put on the brakes. But this explanation only gets us partway there. After all, any major leaguer worth his salt knows you run on contact on balls hit to the right side and the defense back, and getting bamboozled by your third-base coach is something that shouldn't happen in any league above tee ball. The irony, of course, is that the National League team was supposed to have an advantage when it came to pitchers hitting and running the bases. Nope. Worse yet, it was David "Born to DH" Ortiz making the play to nab Suppan. So much for the home-field edge.

Speaking of losing the home-field edge, that one play wiped out the crowd entirely. From the pregame to the first pitch, right through Manny's home run and Walker caught at that plate, Busch Stadium was totally enthusiastic -- roaring, chanting, trying to will the team to victory. But with Suppan's gaffe, a pall settled over the crowd. I hesitate to use this word, but it seemed almost supernatural, as if it were the Cardinals who were surely cursed. (That reminds me of why Richard Pryor didn't want to give mouth-to-mouth to a dying man: "Because Death might jump outta him and into me!" You don't want to be the ones to revive the Sox, because the Curse might just jump outta them and into you!)

Now, I want to be clear about something I said earlier. The blunder at third tonight -- call it the Suppan Surprise -- was emblematic of what went wrong with the Cards, but it's not the reason they lost tonight's game. The reason we lost tonight's game was one Pedro J. Martinez. Pedro no longer has that knee-buckling curve he had a couple years ago, nor does he have the same high-90s heater. But I don't think I've ever -- and I mean ever, in all my years as a baseball fan -- seen a guy change speeds better than he did tonight. He's mystifying. His windup, arm angle, point of delivery, everything, looks the exact same on a 92-mph fastball as it does on a 76-mph change. Which means if you can get inside the heads of the hitters you're facing and out-guess them all night long (and make no mistake, Pedro is one crafty bastard), then you don't need great "stuff" to succeed. The stuff between your ears is all you really need. (Jesus, I sound like I'm turning into Johnny Sain.)

At the end of the day we can bitch and moan about Suppan's blunder, and Larry Walker getting thrown out at the plate, and Scott Rolen continuing his impersonation of Scott Baio, but you've got to tip your cap to the team we're playing. We're just getting flat-out beat.

Now, one last thing, and it's the only thing that made it difficult for me to tip my cap to the Sox tonight. And that's the Red Sox fan who was sitting two rows behind me. In fact, there were quite a number of Sox fans around me tonight; and yes, they were very loud and not at all bashful about supporting their team. None of that bothered me. What did bother me is the guy who screamed and yelled -- I kid you not -- on every single pitch of tonight's game. Doesn't matter whether it was Bill Mueller's double or a swing and a miss from David Ortiz, this guy was all over it. Here's a sample:

Guy (after a weak foul from Johnny Damon): "Way to get a piece, Johnny D.! J.D.! You the man now, J.D.! Give us something! Kick their ass now, J.D.! Wooooooooo!"

or

Guy (after a ball from Pedro thrown a foot out of the strike zone): "That's right, Pedro! Keep 'em thinking! Keep 'em guessing! You don't come to them, make them come to you! You're Pedro! Who are they? They're nothing! Wooooooooooo!"

After awhile it became clear that this guy wasn't rooting for the Red Sox so much as he was rooting for himself. His need to turn every play into an expression of his own obnoxious personality bordered on the pathological. It almost felt like we lost to the Sox twice -- once in real time, and once to the yutz behind us. Although to be fair, there were two Sox fans sitting to my right who basically apologized on behalf of Red Sox Nation. "Sorry," one of them said. "You're getting a bit of Fenway and the Bronx come to St. Louis." Yeah, maybe even more than a bit.

At the end of the game the fans filed out of the stadium, about as somber as I've ever seen a sports crowd. There was no anger, and none of the edginess you sometimes get when the hometeam is going down in flames and the opposing crowd is eager to rub it in. No, it was just sad. No one thought that this team, that played such beautiful baseball for so many months, would end up in the same discard bin as the '98 Padres.

As the crowd logjammed in the corridors of Busch, a strange message lit up on a side scoreboard: "Thanks for a great 2004 season." I'm not sure how it got there exactly. It was either sarcasm, or an omen, or maybe a genuine bit of gratitude for something that's all but slipped away.

Posted 8:56 PM by Brian
DARE TO INSPIRE COURAGEOUS POSSIBILITY I once temped at an office that was covered wall-to-wall with "inspirational" corporate posters. They said things like COURAGE: Dare to confront that which can only be imagined and POSSIBILITIES: Life's only limitations are the ones we make. Usually the backdrops would have, like, a guy ascending a mountaintop, or a sprinter crossing the finish line.

Kitschy, I know. And yet I'm going to indulge in some corn-fed optimism of my own tonight. See, I'm a pessimist by nature. I expect the worst. I see black clouds everywhere. And that's why, on the eve of Game 3, with the Cards down two games to none, I offer you 5 reasons to feel good about our chances in the World Series:

1. We're back at Busch. You've heard it a zillion times already: the Cards are undefeated at home this postseason. Don't put much stock in that (if anything, that means we're due to break the streak). But what you can trust is the Red Sox road record. As I mentioned in yesterday's post, the Sox are decidedly worse away from Fenway this year. It's not their pitching that's the problem (their runs allowed are about the same home and away) -- it's their hitting. They score 6.4 runs per game at home; 5.3 on the road. Shave off one extra run each game and the Cards might be in business.

Pessimism Alert: The Sox sewed up the ALCS while winning the last two games in perhaps the most hostile playing environment in all of baseball. So clearly they're not gonna get too rattled.

2. We're facing Pedro in Game 3. Two years ago that sentence would have made me wet my pants. Nowadays -- eh. I mean, Pedro has never pitched in the World Series before, and it's not difficult to see him rising to the occasion and getting medieval on us. But Pedro is slightly built, and seems to wear down into October. His ERA the last two postseasons: 5.11. His ERA since mid-September: 6.65. That's enough to give us hope.

Pessimism Alert: Sure, Pedro seems to pitch poorly in the postseason, but that may just be because he usually faces the Yankees. Pedro's ERA against the Yanks is nearly two runs higher than it is against everyone else. And against everyone else he's pretty good.

3. Get past Pedro and suddenly the world looks cheery. Robb from Randon Redbird Reasoning pointed this out -- if the Cards can win Game 3, the rest of the series lines up like this:

Game 4 -- Derek Lowe (beatable)
Game 5 -- Tim Wakefield (more than beatable)
Game 6 -- ??? (Schilling may have pitched his last game of the year)

That's not exactly fear-inspiring.

Pessimism Alert: Is the Cards rotation any better?

4. Defense, or lack thereof. Let's be clear about one thing: Boston's defense is not as bad as it has been these last two nights. In fact, the only thing you can really glean from their back-to-back four-error performances is that they're not likely to do that ever again. However... the Sox defense is generally not as good as the Cardinals' to begin with. And they'll have David "Dr. Strangeglove" Ortiz playing first. And the weather in St. Louis is supposed to be wet and sloppy. Add it up and I think you can expect some more holes for our hitters to exploit.

Pessimism Alert: The Sox have already won two games with as bad a defense as you can imagine, so why should they be worried?

5. The percentages. They're not in our favor, obviously. Rob Neyer estimates the Cards have a 22% chance of winning the series. Baseball Prospectus, using infinitely more sophisticated methods, gives us a 29% chance.

That doesn't sound like much. But keep in mind that just one week ago the Red Sox were given just a 4% chance of winning the ALCS. By that standard 29% looks pretty good. Hell, 29% is about exactly how often Edgar Renteria gets a base hit. If Edgar were up at the plate right now, against an average pitcher, with the entire World Series on the line, would you throw in the towel? Would you say it's over? Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? No, no, and no. 29% isn't impossible at all.

Pessimism Alert: But it's still 29%

Okay, that's all I got. I guess you could throw in there that the Cards bats figure to wake up a bit, but you know all that. I'm heading to St. Louis on a 6 a.m. flight tomorrow morning, and I'll be attending Games 3 and 4 in person. So posting might be lighter and slower than usual, but I'll still write when I can. In the meantime, cross your fingers and toes. I don't want to travel 1800 miles just to go to a dinner party with cardinal as the main course.

Posted 7:41 PM by Brian

BLOODY SUNDAY Rough night, huh? There's not much to say after a loss like this. I mean, sure, we can pick apart strategy and get into a lot of wouldas and couldas, but all that hair-splitting is overshadowed by the very real and obvious fact that the Red Sox are playing well right now and the Cardinals are not. They're up 2-zip; we’re not.

So tonight's post will probably have less to do with tactics and strategy and more to do with my glum mood. I'm just warning you in advance...

                             AVG   OBP   SLG

Morris with Bases Empty     .245  .295  .373

Morris with Runners On      .301  .342  .591

Posted 9:26 PM by Brian
SLOPPY FIRSTS Were these two teams really the best in baseball? With both sides trying desperately to give the game to the other, it was finally the Red Sox who seized the moment and went up 1-0 in the World Series. A few observations:

Posted 10:30 AM by Brian
SAILING INTO SEAS OF CHOWDER I don't have any coherent theme to this post. Just a lot of random thoughts about what's to come...

1. Womack        -.190    1. Damon         -.017

2. Walker        +.182    2. Bellhorn      -.109

3. Pujols        +.314    3. Ramirez       +.195

4. Rolen         +.208    4. Ortiz         +.150

5. Edmonds       +.264    5. Millar        -.022

6. Renteria      -.222    6. Nixon         +.042

7. Sanders       -.151    7. Varitek       -.001

8. Mabry         -.022    8. Cabrera       -.142

9. Matheny       -.387    9. Mueller       -.098

                -------                   -------

Average       +/- .216                  +/- .086