Despite last night’s impressive win, the Astros continue to be the Co-Ardinals doormat. Actually, they’re the doormat of just about anyone not called Pittsburgh. Despite all of Jimy’s machinations, and God knows he’s been machinating, the offense can score runs in bunches only once or twice a week and goes horribly barren for the remainder.
This latest series was just more of the same. Despite outscoring the Co-Ards 14-13 over the three games, the Astros come out 1-2 losers. They have hammered out 233 runs so far, 4 less than the Red Birds while allowing a mere 217, 2 better than the Red Birds. Yet we’re staring up a Co-Shit Pipe to the tune of 7.5 games. Stick that in your Pythagorean theory and smoike it!
I don’t think I’m doing anything other than stating the bleedin’ obvious here when I say it’s the offense that’s at fault. What’s maddening, though, is that Jimy has no bullets to fire. Biggio may be clawing his way back to respectability and Ward may sport a flattering BA, but the truth of the situation is that only Lugo is doing what needs to be done when it needs to be done. And that, dear reader, is a recipe for disaster; bigger than taking fruit steeped in Everclear to the Miller Outdoor Theater. Trust me on this one.
Now the rookie left side of the infield has been sacrificed on the altar of Get Me a Frikkin’ Hit with RISPs! Lugo had been a spectacular success as Everett’s replacement; in no small part thanks to me. Had I not so mercilessly pounded Lugo for being crap with both bat and glove, he would not have turned it around and crammed my words so harshly up my own tea towel holder.
Ensberg was a different case than Everett’s. Last year’s starter at his position was (and continues to, despite the odd GWHR) stinking it up in ATL, so no obvious replacement existed on the big club’s roster. Both he and Blum were patchy with both stick and glove, and we waited to see whether some consistency would emerge. Well, emerge it did, just not what we wanted to see. Ensberg got found out by major league pitchers, and once (own say?) the word got out, he was dead meat at the plate.
So now Ginter’s up here with his stone hands and “for the fences” swing, and that’s somehow going to improve the situation?!! Riiiiiiight. The only thing I can see happening here is that a defensive alignment that has a one-armed first baseman, a one-legged second baseman and a no-handed third baseman will bring the Astros RS/RA ratio back into line with their W/L record. Not the other way around. Of course, they do have Blum running around in the outfield now. Sweet!
Too Late the Hero
It’s no longer early and it’s no longer teething trouble for this club. I fear that the season has already been pissed away. Crawling out of this hole will be a Herculean task, far bigger than the one they set for themselves last season, and there’s no cavalry in sight. Last season the pitching make-over righted the ship, but that was achieved by offing Lima and Elarton in favour of Mlicki and Astacio while moving Dotel to the pen in favour of Oswalt. Those moves, plus the plug-in of Hernandez late in the year was at least +20 games in the win column.
This time around, the offense is scuffling but the main problem is with the big guns. Only Hidalgo stands out as someone who Jimy could bench long term (and he may have done this now), and he’s the only one likely to be traded because of his contract. Of course irony is very ironic, and it’s that same contract that prolly makes him untradeable for anything other than someone else’s expensive problem. Maybe there’s a GM out there stupid or desperate enough at the trade deadline to move for him, but that’s a big maybe.
Biggio, Bagwell, Berkman and Ward are just not getting their respective jobs done. Only the most rabid of talk show callers would suggest trading any of them, and benching them does no real good, IMO.
Apocalypse Now
The Ensberg-Ginter and Blum-Hidalgo swaps stink highly of panic. The Astros are running out of time and are right in the heart of a pivotal point in the season. I think another week or two of this crap, and we can stick a fork in it. The Astros are 7.5 games behind the Co-Ards and even further behind SFA in the W/C race. The hard charge last year was special, but it was started from .500, not 7 games under, and involved a major turnover of personnel. Neither of those things is the case this year.
I say give ’em another two weeks, and then start with the amputations. Hidalgo and Mlicki (if he gets off the DL in time) are major candidates to be traded come the deadline, and perhaps even Reynolds too. Dump some salary, pick up some prospects and use the money to plug some holes come FA season next year. Simple eh?
Fever Pitch
In case you hadn’t noticed, the finals World’s largest sporting event starts tomorrow. It’s called “World Cup” and it involves a four year battle of all the world’s sporting nations to get into the last 32 and a chance for glory on an international stage like no other. Oh, yeah, it’s the game called football where players actually use their feet.
You may be surprised to hear that every game will be shown live on TV here in the US. Of course, the finals’ co-hosts happen to be Japan and St. Louis…errrrrr… South Korea, so this all takes place in the wee hours of the morning when only Nazio2B is awake; and he’s too busy shitting all over the TZ to be watching telly. ESPNs 1 and 2 will carry the games and provide excruciating PBP, so I may end up watching most games on Univision with the sound turned down. Otherwise I think I may self-destruct at the first appearance of “PK” in the commentary.
The event opens Friday, May 31 with the most heinous mismatch in the entire tournament. Current holders France square off against WTF? team Senegal in what should be a laffer. The pride of Limeyland open up their campaign to survive the “Group of Death” against Sweden on Sunday morning. England are notorious slow starters in these affairs, and so could well find themselves all-but eliminated from the competition about 90 minutes after it starts for them.
The Group of Death (there’s one every time) features the mighty Argentina – fancied in the tournament and England’s arch enemy (if you exclude Germany, of course). Sweden are a decent side and will cause an under-strength and (let’s face it) less than talented English team some trouble. Nigeria round out the group, and will be a lot better than non-aficionados might think. Only two countries from each group qualify for the knockout stage, and the smart money says it’ll be Argentina and pick ’em.
France, Portugal, Argentina and perennial powerhouse Brazil are all tipped for big things. The group phase is always pivotal, as winning your group pits you against another group’s runner up in the knockout round. If you stumble out of your group as runner up, you should be matched against a strong team and thus face a much harder task to advance. Then, of course, you can win your group, yet get drawn against one of the fancied nations who may have stumbled out of their group…
It’s fascinating stuff to see how this thing plays out. The ebb and flow of fortunes from one day to the next is huge. The whole world (not called the United States) will be swept up in this thing for the next month. ESPN has some pretty comprehensive coverage on their web site, and ESPN / ABC will be providing a lot of coverage. I heartily suggest that you try to catch at least a touch of the fever – there really isn’t anything else like it.
Rudder Cup
Lastly, following on with the theme of patriotic fervour, I recently participated in the hotly contested Rudder Cup of Golf. Played within the Marine/Energy insurance community in Houston, 12-man teams from the US and Britain square off once a year for a small plastic trophy and 12 months of smack-running rights.
This year the venue was Old Orchard in Sugarland, home of tight fairways, tall trees, deep water and lightning fast greens. It also has some fantastic barbecue and Shiner (in cans, no draught).
The British team posted a comfortable 15-9 win over a hapless US team. The morning best ball and alternate shot team games were a bloodbath, with the scores standing at 9-1/2 to 2-1/2 during lunch. 12 points remained up for grabs in the afternoon singles but us Brits held our own to take back the trophy and the series lead at 3-2 (with two ties). Yours truly posted impressive wins in the morning team games and eked out a 2&1 win in the singles for a perfect 3-0 on the day.
Needless to say, there was much rejoicing.