SEASONS IN HELL, VOL. I, No. 6

August 7-9, 2009
Brewers (54-54) vs. Astros (53-55)

I can’t help about the shape I’m in
I can’t sing, I ain’t pretty, and my legs are thin
But, don’t ask me what I think of you
I might not give the answer that you want me to

OH WELL. For a little while there right around the All Star break, the Astros were playing like maybe they were going to do something weird this season, like hang around in the NL Central long enough to find themselves in some kind of pennant race. But after getting screwy in St. Looey this past weekend (the series loss there ameliorated somewhat by a gem of a debut – as a starter – by Bud Norris on Sunday) and then being less than defiant with the Giants, we are looking now at three days in the sewer with the Brewers, as life with the Lovable Mediocrities a/k/a Astros starts feeling again like it usually does, or has in the last few seasons, anyway – revving it up to 6000 RPMs at the starting line, going nowhere really, really fast.

We should be used to these ups and downs by now. This is a streaky team; but not so much ‘streaky’ in the sense they run hot and cold. More like streaky in the sense that a drunk driver is streaky about staying between the lane markers. He gets himself between the lines at times, but that is usually just on the way from one shoulder to the other.

Which leads us back, once again, to the captain of this ghost trawler of a team. It is hard to separate fact from fict what Justice and deJesus, et al, throw up against the sports page every day, to see what sticks; but we have heard over and over now, sometimes from pretty reliable sources even, that in addition to his puzzling managerial moves and then puzzling-er explanations for them afterwards, Astros Manager Cecil Cooper has long ago lost the respect and even attention of his players, maybe way back last season, even. That’s not good.

The whole recent scenario with pitcher Russ Ortiz is instructive. Cooper did not like Ortiz, as he made it plain. His reasons given were that Ortiz nibbled too much around the plate, but it is hard not to think there was more to it. I cannot blame Cooper for not liking a particular player – there is no way to have 25-30 highly motivated and egotistical people working for you, and like all of them. Despite the fact that from what I’ve read, many considered Ortiz the decent sort as ballplayers go – certainly no Shawn Chacon – Cooper should be allowed his personal preferences, like anyone else. What grates is his inability to conceal his distaste for Ortiz, which if nothing else lead to the common assumption that maybe it played into how Cooper used Ortiz as a player.

Puzzling early-season exile to the bullpen aside, the truth is Ortiz pitched himself out of a job. That was not wholly unexpected, and there was no real defense for him when he was unceremoniously released last week, after another bad start, this time against the FTCubs. What was troubling was that Cooper had allowed so much extracurricular speculation play into things at all, simply because he could not conduct himself with discretion when it came to clubhouse personality conflicts. If there is a quicker way to “lose” your team than allowing private grievances with individual players to come to light in the media, then you’ll have to tell me what it is.

**********

Friday August 7, 2009
Game Time: 7:05 p.m.
Television: FSSW-HD, MLB.TV
Promotions: Retro Workout T-Shirt. “Retro,” I guess, because of the vaguely 1970s-style lettering used in the Astros logo on the front. I was hoping for something more Jamie Lee Curtis in Perfect but, oh well. I guess, I wouldn’t mind seeing Mallory Conger in that T-shirt, though. Or maybe BudGirl, or BatGirl. . . Oh well, again. :sigh:

Saturday August 8, 2009
Game Time: 6:05 p.m.
Television: FSSW-HD, MLB.TV
Promotions: Craig Biggio T-shirt. The economy isn’t coming back quickly enough, an injection of Craig Biggio T-shirts is welcomed. We need more of those. Preferably attractively modeled, too. Girls?

Sunday August 9, 2009
Game Time: 1:05 p.m.
Television: FSSW-HD, MLB.TV
Promotions: Astros Back-To-School Backpack. Probably cheaply made, it’ll fall apart by Thanksgiving break. But, the price is good. I’m sure the first 10,000 kids 15 and under will be glad to be reminded back-to-school is just around the corner. And, you know, I wouldn’t mind seeing      insert name here      in a backpack, yes.

**********

Here they come
Skipping into town
9-17 in July
But on a roll just now

Hey, hey, they’re the Brewers
Gayest little team around
They get upset if your buzz them
And swing their little purses around

Hey, hey, it’s the Brewers. . .

GAY BREWERS. With an 9-11 record since the All Star break, here comes the new toast of the NL Central, the Milwaukee Brewers. Yes, they are fresh off a 2-1 series win in LA, albiet one where in the loss the biggest Brewer of them all went apeshit at being plunked in the ass, of all places – hard to miss that ass – and then in his anger tried to rearrange Dodger Stadium. Literally. At any rate, the Brewskies now find themselves in essentially in the same boat as the Astros, standings-wise. Each team has not played well enough, one would think, to be in contention for anything besides 4th place in the division, but each finds itself still theoretically still “in the hunt”, mostly because the division standard bearers, the 3rdinals and the FTCubs, haven’t played much better.

The difference is, one senses the Brewers could still possibly pull out of their recent mediocrity and make a run. Something like that is harder to imagine for the Astros.

Milwaukee’s main draw-down this season has been pitching. In fact, playing in a more pitcher-friendly park, the Brewers pitching is markedly worse than even the Astros is, if you can imagine that. Especially the starting pitching. Aside from staff leader Yovani Gallardo (10-8, 3.59), the Brewers rotation at the moment is comprised of journeyman Braden Looper (10-5, 4.84), disappointing propsect Manny Parra (6-8, 6.63), erstwhile reliever Carlos Villanueva (2-8, 5.98) (in lieu of Jeff Suppan, who is on the DL), and never-was Mike Burns (2-4, 6.06). That bunch collectively has a record of 29-33 with a 5.05 ERA. The overworked bullpen has done somewhat better, but there have been some ugly recent blowouts, the most recent Tuesday night in LA, when the Brewers had their asses handed to them, 4-17. In their last 10 games, the Brewers have given up 10+ runs four times, and gave up 8 in another. All the offense in the world is going to have a tough time overcoming a staff that hemorrhages runs at that rate.

In the longer view, the Brewers are in the midst of a run that their fans may live to really, really regret. They are into the fourth season, roughly, of a period where the organization has drafted, developed, and brought to the majors one of the best collections of young talent to come along in awhile – guys like Prince Fielder and Rickie Weeks and Ryan Braun and Corey Hart and J.J. Hardy on offense, and Gallardo and Parra on the mound. And yet, save for a wild card berth and early exit from the NLDS last season, courtesy of the Phillies, the Brewers have essentially nothing to show for it, so far. And now it appears they may be regressing. They may still rebound and make a classic run and blow the ‘missed opportunities’ stigma away for good. For their long-suffering fans’ sake, I hope so. That is a bitter, bitter pill to swallow.

On the other hand, no I don’t. What do I care about Brewerfan? Fuck them. I hope they are stressing now about how all that young talent is piling up the service time, and moving closer and closer to arbitration and/or free agency. Too bad, suckers.

**********

PITCHING MATCHUPS

Friday August 7, 2009
Game Time: 7:05 p.m.
Television: FSSW-HD, MLB.TV
Matchup: Brewers – Carlos Villanueva (2-8, 5.98). Villanueva has made two starts since being inserted in the rotation for Suppan. Both were short stints, as he’s attempted to stretch out his pitch counts. His most recent outing, against San Diego last Sunday, was a good one; he held the Padres scoreless through five, allowing only two hits. Astros – Bud Norris (1-0, 0.90). This will be his first outing since last Sunday’s 7 inning, 2 hit, 0 run performance in St. Louis. Needless to say, it will be interesting to see how Norris follows that up.

Saturday August 8, 2009
Game Time: 6:05 p.m.
Television: FSSW-HD, MLB.TV
Matchup: Brewers – Manny Parra (6-8, 6.33). Parra has been pretty sucky all season, having fully earned the bad record and that ugly, ugly ERA. He gives up a lot of hits, a lot of walks, and a fair amount of long balls, to boot. And his legs are thin. Parra was supposed to be a mainstay on this staff, but I don’t see it, at all. Astros – Roy Oswalt (6-4, 3.61). If his back is okay – right now I guess it is about 50-50 that Roy will make this start. If he cannot go, it will likely be Hampton instead.

Sunday August 9, 2009
Game Time: 1:05 p.m.
Television: FSSW-HD, MLB.TV
Matchup: Brewers – Yovani Gallardo (10-8, 3.59). Gallardo got clobbered his last time out, giving up 10 hits and 9 ERs to the Dodgers on Tuesday, in 5 1/3 innings. That blew up his ERA; he had been the most consistently good Brewer starter up to then. The LA game was likely an anomaly, I expect him to be tough.  Astros – Wandy Rodriguez (10-6, 2.63). Wandy, recovering from a hamstring he strained running the bases on August 1, should be a ‘go’ for this start. If so, it will be his first since being named NL Pitcher of the Month for July.
**********

Loved girls all over the country
Even met a few around the world
One thing I’ll never forget my mama
Down in Houston, Texas
Ooooh, Houston, Texas

HOUSTON CHICKS. Let me say up front that I am very sorry I’ll be missing what is turning out to be the social event of the season, it appears; namely Andymas – Andy Zipp’s birthday party bash Friday night at 18-20 Bar in Houston, 7 p.m. until. Happy birthday Andy, fredia, Debbie, and Darrin, and whoever all else. RSVP.

I really like that bar, from what I can remember, so I’ll miss seeing that. I understand the jukebox that evening will be pumping out vintage Black Sabbath and Pink Floyd all night, with maybe a little Ronnie James Dio mixed in there for fans of midget Satanists. Sweet. I’ll miss that, too.

Plus, I’ll miss meeting up with all the guys I argue and laugh with in the TZ all the time, too many of them to mention here. I think most of all, though, I will miss meeting up with all the SnS babes. I understand BatGirl will be there, buying drinks for all her faves. And the newly saucy and aggressive BudGirl will be present, doing whatever it is newly saucy and aggressive girls do. Plus, hopefully additional members of the distaff side of this place will be in attendance, drinking some of the guys under the table, not giving an inch to anyone.

I worked the clubs in Galveston
I couldn’t have been more than fifteen
Went wild when one of those boarding house mamas
Said, ‘Little boy, come on to Houston, live with me.’
O-oo-oh, Houston, Texas

Whenever SnS-ers feel like self-flagellating – which is pretty damn often in comparison to the rest of the population, if you ask me, but that is another subject. . . but, anyway, whenever we feel like patting ourselves on the back for what a great a site this is, we talk about the TZ or the GZ or the Bus or the technical know-how of Noe, Waldo, etc., or the terrific things happening on the front page now, or the burgeoning multi-media career of Zipp. And all those things are definitely part of what makes this site so awesome and unique (flagellate, flagellate). But one thing I don’t always hear mentioned in these conversations, is our chicks.

We got the best fucking baseball-literate, two-fisted drinking, physically attractive contibutor babes of any baseball fan site on the internet. Bar none. That is what makes SnS really unique and great. I’ll bet there’s not another fan site on the planet with as high a percentage of women regularly contributing concise, funny and thoughtful material as SnS has. We are damn lucky to have it.

If I live my life over
Don’t you know where I want to be
Somewhere out on the outskirts of Houston
Houston girl, take care of me
O-oo-oh, Houston, Texas

I’ll miss seeing all you guys Friday night, man, woman and child. Even Limey. As Bon Scott or someone once said, have a drink on me. And, as an aside – to my personal critic’s section/fan club, The Terrible BGs – maybe next time. I promise. Okay, you’ve heard that one before, but. . .

Houston chicks
Get their kicks out of
Taking care, care, care
Of the man that they love
O-oo-oh, Houston, Texas

**********

INJURIES

Houston
•LaTroy Hawkins (RHP), placed on the 15-day DL on August 3, due back August 18, with shingles. I’ll be honest, I’ve never really known what shingles is. For me, it always fell somewhere between the almost make-believe sounding afflictions one got from reading too much Robert Louis Stevenson as a youth – scurvy, ricketts, stuff like that – and the archaic-named illnesses that are known as something else today – such as the vapors/manic depression, or consumption/TB. But, in the interest of medical science and my own edification, I looked it up: Shingles is a viral skin infection, related to herpes, which causes a painful rash, usually on one side of the body. I’ll bet it is even more painful if one sweats and has tight-fitting clothes rubbing on it, like a short reliever might. Hence, the DL.

•Darin Erstad (OF-1B), placed on the 15-day DL on July 19, due back August 3 originally, with a strained left hamstring. Erstad is on a rehab assignment in Corpus Christi presently, and may be back with the club in time for this series. He has had a rough time of it this season even when healthy, trying to make the adjustment to being a little-used bench player.

•Aaron Boone (INF), placed on the 60-day DL in spring training, due back September 1, after undergoing open heart surgery. Boone continues a pretty amazing comeback, starting a rehab assignment next week. One would assume Boone is at this point mainly trying to prove something to himself. If so, more power to him.

•Michael “Afterburner” Bourn (OF), not in the DL, but day-to-day after straining his groin on August 5, possibly can return for this series. Talking about groin injuries make me uncomfortable. For a guy like Bourn, whose game is based largely on his legs, it has to be debilitating to wonder, every time you take off, if your are going to feel that dull “pop”, followed by mucho pain. I am not going to talk about this anymore.

•Lance Berkman (1B), placed on the 15-day DL on July 20, due back August 7, with a strained left calf. It seems highly unlikely Berkman will be back Friday, as scheduled. He may in fact be out for quite awhile longer, adding to the Astros woes.

•Roy Oswalt (RHP), not on the DL, day-to-day after lower back pain forced him to cut short a start on July 28. Roy was reportedly discouraged after a throwing session Monday, raising fears there might be something more to his injury than originally suspected. He threw again Tuesday off of flat ground and felt better. His scheduled start this Saturday would have to be considered possible at this point.

•Wandy Rodriguez (LHP), not on the DL, day-to-day after leaving his August 1 start early with a strained right hamstring. He will throw Wednesday in the bullpen and, unless he has a setback, he is the probable starter for Sunday’s series opener.

Milwaukee
•Pitchers – David Bush (RHP), 15-day, June 20-August 15, arm fatigue; Chris Capuano (LHP), 60-day, 2007-2010, Tommy John surgery; Seth McClung (RHP), 15-day, July 25-unknown, sprained right elbow; David Riske (RHP), 60-day, June 1-next year, torn elbow tendon; Jeff Suppan (RHP), 15-day, July 27-August 10, left oblique strain.

•Players – Corey Hart (OF), 15-day, August 1-Spetember 5, appendectomy; Rickie Weeks (2B), 60-day DL, May 17-Spring, 2010, torn tendon in right wrist.

**********

JACK SUTHERFORD: TEACHER, ICON, CULTURAL MONOLITH. Jack Sutherford awoke from a dark slumber, to realize it was 6:45 am out. “Holey smokes!’ he thought, out loud. He had to hurry. For most folks, waking up at 6:45 on a weekday wasn’t reason to worry. They’d still have plenty of time to get ready and reach their boring, meaningless jobs on time or somewhat late but not too much so. Which, that didn’t matter anyway. But for Jack Sutherford, waking up at such a late time was nothing more than a major tragedy. For you see, Jack Sutherford wasn’t just any body, and his job was not just a boring, meaningless job. Jack Sutherford, standing there now, looking coolly out his window at the dawn rising over the sparkling dirty waters of Tranquility Bay, the filtered sunlight coming in and glinting off of the dark, chiseled visage of his hirsute naked chest, Jack Sutherford was something like a New American Hero. Jack Sutherford, you see, was a teacher; a teacher, through and through, and now, in the dawn’s early light, he quickly prepared himself for his daily task, his cross to bear so to speak, in fact that is a pretty apt metaphor, because, like Jesus before him, Jack went out each day, armed only with his wits and his hirsute, tanned and chiseled chest, and he COMBATED IGNORANCE.

As Jack pulled on a wrinkled pair of slacks he’d picked up off the easy chair across from the foot of his bed, he hoped traffic wasn’t too bad out on NSAA (National Space and Argricultural Association) Road 11. Which ran from close to his house to the interstate. As he tied the laces on one of his pair of cheap wingtips shoes, he thought, Boy, I hope I can get to Interstate 54 and go north up to Meyerland Island, which is where he taught, at a tough private Chrisitan school there, the Palm Christian Academy, without too much delay. Jack was late, and he didn’t like to be late. He didn’t intend to be. Its like his friend REDRyan told him once, “You shouldn’t have to worry about getting there politically correctly, as long as you get there at all.”

That’s how it goes when your COMBATING IGNORANCE, Jack thought, as he kissed his sleeping wife on the cheek on his way out the door, tying a shorthand Windsor knot in his paisley tie with one hand while pulling on the navy Perry Ellis sportscoat with the other, heading for his Ford Escape, his “urban assault vehicle” he laughed to himself, before climbing in to head for the mean streets of Meyerland. The air was thick and heavy, the clouds scudding across the washed out sky in military-like formations. “Ominous, ” Jack thought.

As he drove up the I-54 causeway across Tranquility Bay and into Meyerland, he passed Wiki Island on his left, Jack noting those a-holes from Wiki-Land, their kids thought they knew everything but half of what they knew was wrong or at least un-cited. People think teaching in a private Christian school on a sunny, tropical-like island to a bunch of wealthy kids is a cushy job, but Jack knew different. As he steered his Escape to the left and got on 16th Street, everywhere he looked were neat, well-trimmed lawns and nice houses, a lot nicer than Jack would ever have, on his $45K a year teacher’s stipend. “Damned morons,” Jack thought, idly. The world is really on its ear. This surburban gangland held hidden threats everywhere, and Jack was wary. He knew damn well the reason he had no tenure at all and had to scramble for a new job every summer was because he was out to upset the applecart, and everybody knew it, too. You can bet that. COMBATING IGNORANCE was a lonely, bitter job. Maybe he’d sit down and write a book about it one day, even self-publish it, if he had to. “As long you get there,” REDRyan had said, swigging back another shot of Viagra, “even if all your Yuku friends ban you, as long as there is still one person (or two, or three, or more, whatever) down inside you who thinks you did right, well. . .”

The massive SUV wheeled into the clean, tree-lined parking lot next to the school, and pulled smoothly into the reserved parking space. One thing Jack knew he had going for him was his super-intelligence, but also there was his athletic build, got from his years spent on the playing fields of Tranquility Lake and Allenville. Maybe not quite a legend in his time, he’d nonetheless been a better than average athlete and, who knows? If one or two things had gone differently here or there along the way, Jack might have ended up a professional ballplayer, privy to all that a professional ballplayer’s lifestyle brings. Wine, women, and song. And enough money not to care about anything, just you and your soulmate, sitting in a hot tub somewhere. . . Jack shook out of his reverie as he swiped his ID card through the security lock and entered the cool, wide, clean hallway in the west annex of Palm Christian Academy. He never made the pros, Jack thought, but he kept the athletic build. He pretty often caught the young teenage girls at the academy, the ones with the firm bodies and pretty legs under those old-fashioned schoolgirl skirts and blouses. . . he caught them looking away quickly when they saw him look up. They were checking him out, Jack thought I look pretty good in these slacks, even wrinkled. He bet more than a few had fallen asleep at night with fevered dreams of Mr. Sutherford in their heads. Jack laughed to himself, as he turned the corner and headed down the main hallway. His pleasant thoughts would be short-lived, today like everyday, because he would soon be in his classroom, getting ready for his first period class. COMBATING IGNORANCE was a thankless, grim undertaking, Jack knew. And he knew he was just the man for it. The cadence ran through his head as he approached and then unlocked the door to his classroom. Cultural Icon. Hero. Man of Importance. Monolith of Virtue. Jack Sutherford, Teacher.

**********

Astros win the series, 3-0, or – depending on how the starting pitching shakes out/shapes up – maybe 2-1.

I am just a cowboy, lonesome on the trail
Lord, Im just thinking about a certain female
The nights we spent together, riding on the range
Looking back, it seems so strange

Roll me over and turn me around
Let me keep spinning ‘til I hit the ground
Roll me over and let me go
Running free with the buffalo

~from “The Ballad of Jack Sutherford” (self-distributed through 3707 Records, 3707 Ardless St., Allenville, TZ)

THE WEATHER

Black are the brooding clouds and troubled the deep waters, when the Sea of Thought, first heaving from a calm, gives up its Dead. ~Charles Dickens

There’s always a period of curious fear between the first sweet-smelling breeze and the time when the rain comes cracking down. ~Don Delillo

Still falls the rain
Dark as the world of man, black as our loss
Blind as the nineteen-hundred-and-forty nails upon the Cross. ~ Dame Edith Stillwell

‘I love you,’ said the rain
Kissing the ground with her raindrop kisses
Embracing him with her dark, heavy, pendulous, sagging clouds
Caressing him here and there with her winds that she blew from her tiny mouth
Somewhere, a volcano was erupting with the force of a ten thousand megaton atom bomb. . .

~ “I Love You Said The Rain”, Jack Sutherford, from The Collected Poems of Jack Sutherford, D.I.Y Press, 1400 PacMo Blvd., Osteen City, TZ

**********