Bud Selig at the podium

The biggest Astros highlight of the week has already happened, and it happened not on a baseball diamond, but in a climate-controlled soundstage in New York at the MLB draft.  While next years’ draft, with its probable top-5 pick will produce even more scrutiny and hype, this year’s draft had its share, too.

We got some UConn Huskie (like his jeans say) outfielder whose closest MLB comp is our very own Face of the Franchise, Hunter “Hit Like Jimmie Foxx, Field Like Redd Foxx” Pence.  I’m excited that he’s supposedly a slugger, but the bastard better have a head on his shoulders, or else we’ll have two Golden Retrievers patrolling the outfield at MMP and pissing on the rug.

In today’s draft, we got the pitchers that everyone was bitching about us not drafting yesterday.  Fuck that noise.  There wasn’t a Strausberg to be found this year, at Strausberg prices or otherwise.  Be happy with 30 homers in 2015, you dumb fucks.  First person to say “Uncle Jimmy” gets a kick in the nuts.

Still waiting for Justice’s engorged ego to spooge out the requisite “Why didn’t they draft Jungmann” column.  Also waiting for 2013, when Jungmann gets Tommy John and retires to go sell Chevys for Buddy Garrity, and Justice is writing “Isn’t this Springer kid fun to watch” columns by the bushel.

Probable Pitchers:

Tuesday, June 7th

7:05 CT, MMPUS

Jake Westbrook (5-3, 5.15) v. Brett Myers (2-4, 4.82)

Jake the Erstwhile Indian has seen the Astros infrequently, with a mild amount of pounding, just like a Cinemax flick.  Carlos, Hunter, and Wallace all hit over .400 against him.   He also looks like the kind of asshole who’d pour you a weak drink because he doesn’t want to share his “top shelf” Macallen 12.  I went to a wedding this weekend where the whiskey was poured generously into wine glasses instead of highballs.  That’s a damn celebration.

Myers.  Scraggly chinned bastard better be hurt.  That’s all I can say.  I loved his gutsy 2010 campaign, so this year is just hard to digest.  Pujols, Tyler Greene, and Skippy Schumacher all hit him pretty well.  But the once and former Puma is only .167 against him, so that’s pretty good.

Wednesday, June 8th

7:05 CT, MMPUS

Jaime “Jamie” Garcia (6-1, 3.05) v. Bud “Dub” Norris 3-4, 3.95)

Garcia is one of those frustrating Jake pitchers who you’d love to have in your own rotation, but is an absolute asshole to face.   Still, Hunter’s one hit off of him is a dinger, and Angel Sanchez loves his weak-ass shit, at least half the time.

Budly continues to string together good starts, but I kinda have the feeling that he’s reached his peak as a starter.  Which isn’t all bad, and not entirely unlike the expectations for him coming up.  Against the Jakes, he’s notoriously good. Rasmus and Pujols are both .250 or lower against him.

Thursday, June 9th

7:05 CT, MMPUS

Lance Lynn (0-1, 8.44) v. J.A. Happ (3-7, 4.65)

Lynn looks like he just got caught masturbating to Xena on Channel 39.  And he pitches like a wanker, too.  He’s their 1st rounder from 2008, so obviously the Duncan Magic Touch just isn’t working yet.  He hasn’t faced the ‘stros yet, and the less said about that, the better.

Happ’s having a rough year, but he’s pitching better than his numbers indicate, for what that’s worth.  Let’s just call him Wandy 2.0 and move on.  Molina and something called Allen Craig hit him well, but Schumacher and The Riot are sub-Mendoza.

Injuries

Astros:

Alberto Arias: recording his comeback album with Rick Rubin

Jason Castro: resumed baseball drills.  This comes via Ron Brand, who’s almost as old as Jim, so who knows if it’s really Castro or just his male nurse who’s playing catcher.

Brandon Lyon: rehabbing the injury to his Suck Muscle.

Humberto Quintero: The worst injury to this team all season.  You know I’m not joking.

Wandy Rodriguez: Scheduled for a rehab start tomorrow night.

Co-Ards:

Bryan Augenstein: strained groin.  From masturbating to Cleopatra 2525.

Lance Berkman: sprained right wrist.  From trying to stop the back door from slapping him on the ass on the way out.

David Freese: Broken left hand.  From masturbating to Hercules: The Legendary Journeys.

Matt Holliday:  strained quads.  From asskicking received from Bruce Campbell for masturbating to Jack of All Trades.

Gerald Laid: Broken finger.  From masturbating to M.A.N.T.I.S

Kyle McClellan: strained hip flexor.  From masturbating (poorly) to Renegade, starring Lorenzo Lamas.

Nick Punto: Right forearm flexor strain.  Hit off a tee recently.  I think we all know what that means: Masturbating to Babylon 5.

Adam Wainwright: ligament damage in throwing elbow.  Masturbating to Highlander.

Promotions:

Thursday: free haircut coupons.  They were going to do a cup of soup and a free hat.

What to Watch For:

My lazy ass at the game tonight.  If I’m sitting in front of Patti again, I’ll be the one mouthing “Chuck can blow me”

Pujols probably going yard.

Some great baserunning by the Cards.  Fucking Towles.

Talk about it in the Game Zone!

Where better to go at the low point of a low season than Shitbird City?  I’m ready.  Bring it on.  Let Jim Crane see how much work needs to be done.  Let that $650 million dollar hole in his pocket gape in awe at what’s now filling it.  But let’s also shut these redheaded, eye-infected fucks up.

——

It's a fixer-upper

I know how Jim Crane feels.  I mean, not in the sense that I have enough money for Limey’s drinking, Alkie’s whores, and Jim’s hip replacement(s) in my couch cushions, but I get it, man.  We’re in the process of buying a house right now.  A ninety year old house at that.  The current owner is flipping it after putting a fair amount of money and effort into dressing it up and making it more livable.  But like a certain recently departed Grocer, he did it on the cheap.  Bad wiring?  Bury it in spray-in insulation.  Termites?  Paint over the rotted wood.  Overweight, overpaid LF?  Make him a team of sombrero-wearing mascots!  Wait, which side of this analogy was I on again?

The point being that Crane has the next few months to inspect.  And reinspect.  At all levels.  Minor league.  Major league.  Front office.  Back office.  He’s going to find things he wants to change, and other things that make him smile, because they’re the reasons he wanted to own a major league team in the first place.  The previous owner neglected things, to be sure.  But like houses that have “good bones”, this team has good pieces to build on.  Not necessarily from an on-field talent perspective.  God and Baseball Prospectus know that Oklahoma City has about as much talent as the collective cast of Glee, but there’s still Bobby Heck, and Ed Wade, and Jio Mier, and Telvin Nash, and all the other promising kids collected under their watch.  Preserve that spirit, those bones, and this house will be alright, in time.

By the same token, though, I fucking hate house shopping.  I hate telling financiers how much (or little) I make.  I hate standing around trying to look like I understand when the roofing guy talks to me like I’ve ever been to the High Degree of Difficulty aisles at Home Depot.  I hate the nickel and diming on closing costs.  I hate the way it’s completely taking over my life.  And I really fucking hate this Astros season.  It’s proving every nay-saying jackass right (in their mind), and it’s becoming almost comical in its predictability.  But if this is what we go through every two decades in order to have a 2005 once in a while, then so be it.

Here are the keys, Jimmy.  The Lil’ Pumas have already been fumigated.  I hope you don’t fuck it up.

Probable Pitchers

Wednesday, May 18th

7:15 CT, Awesome Brewery Bill Blocking Stadium

Bud Norris (2-2, 3.42) v. Kyle Lohse (4-2, 2.31)

Kyle Lohse looks like he touches himself during MMA matches.  That little chin-dot goatee.  I bet he can’t grow a real beard.   Collectively, the ‘stros hit .255 against him, but Carlos has 5 dingers off him, which would be great if he still knew how to hit them.  The immortal Brett Wallace hits .667 against Lohse, probably because Lohse gets all transfixed by DAT ASS!

Bud is the Card slayer.  I expect a complete fucking game here, for obvious reasons.

Thursday, May 19th

12:45 CT, Screw You I’m Drinking Southern Star RIGHT NOW Stadium

J.A. Happ (3-4, 5.40) v. Kyle McClellan (5-1, 3.62)

Don't we all?

Why are goatees still popular?  McClellan has one.  He looks like a douche.  He probably wears cargo shorts to dinner, and lets the waitress sit down at the booth while she explains the snapper special.  Hell, he probably asks for that waitress every time.  Hunter loves him, which probably means his breaking stuff is for shit.  Bill Hall is over .350 against him, which means that he has a magic pitch that can be hit even when it’s way out of the strike zone.  Also, McClellan’s Baseball-Reference page is sponsored by Cardinal-birthdays.com.  That’s so damned sad I almost can’t even make fun of it.  Almost.  Imagine a party where the party planner is purported to be the best party planner in baseball party planning, except the cake tastes like taint, and the clown falls asleep drunk and has communicable diseases.

Happ was totally worth trading for Berkman straight up.  *ducks*  Pujols and Holliday both hit him well, so the bully should be glad to know that there probably won’t be a lead to defend when they’re called upon.

Injury Report

Astros:

Alberto Arias: Missing in action.  Chuck Norris currently searching.

Jason Bourgeois: Strained oblique.  Had plasma injecction.  Dammit, not another superhero movie.

Jason Castro: Out til September.  Not a good year to be a Jason in Houston.

Jeff Keppinger: Our last and best hope is almost back. If only he could pitch the 7th, we’d be golden.

Brandon Lyon: 15 day DL (suck)

Shitbirds

Bryan Augenstein: 15 day DL.  Strained groin. I think you can write the rest of this joke.

David Freese: Broke left hand.  Wait, I think these two might be related!

Nick Punto: Right forearm flexor strain.  What the hell kind of orgy was this?

Colby Rasmus: muscle strain in midsection.  The butthole’s in the midsection, right?

Skip Schumacher: right triceps strain. I mean, seriously?  Is it all just wanking arms and one groin?

Brian Tallet: broken bone in right hand.  Oh my lord.  I’m starting to feel sorry for Augenstein.

Adam Wainwright: ligament damage in right elbow.  Wow.  Just wow.

Prrrrrromotions!

NONE WHATSOEVER!

What to watch for:

A mercifully short series.

More Berkman stories, dammit.

The national media returning to sleep about the Astros.

The final end of the nonstop Augenstein wank orgy.

Talk it up, fuzzball!  In the Game Zone!

Minute 24 is the most difficult for me on the treadmill.  I’ve got six minutes to go before I finish my thirty minute cardio workout, the playlist that I queued up on my iPhone is starting to drag to the point that I can’t really imagine listening to another consecutive Death From Above 1979 song, and my right knee (the bad one that I sprained almost weekly when I played basketball) is starting its familiar sting.  Worst of all, I’m realizing once again that because I get to the gym right after Rachael Ray’s Perky Bullshit Parade finishes up, I’m only halfway through this episode of Iron Chef America and I’m never going to find out what Mario Batali was doing with the veal sweetbreads and marscapone before I need to go do some weights.

That’s how the Astros’ season is starting to feel for me right now.  Pence’s nightly bed-shitting is the waning playlist, familiar and kind of boring even though it’s completely crazy.  Lance Berkman is Rachael Ray: no longer in the line of sight, but infuriating nonetheless.  Let’s call Bill Hall my bad knee and Wallace the veal-marscapone savory cannoli of my dreams, and that should wrap up a pretty tenuous analogy.  But what I mostly mean is that even though we’re not quite out of April, I’m already winded.  I’m drained from the fuck-ups and goofs and haters and glimmering hopes and blown innings, and I don’t know if I can make it to September.

But like the treadmill, I’m sticking with it.  It’s good for me.  I’m getting my money’s worth.  And at least it’s not the Texans.

Probable Pitchers

Friday, April 29th

7:05 CST, MMPUS

Shawn Marcum (2-1, 2.73) v. Brett Myers (1-0, 3.31)

That's Gangsta

Marcum has one of those names that Bill Simmons would classify as a Reggie Cleveland All-Star: based on name alone, you expect him to be one race, but he’s actually another.  He’s also a pretty decent hurler.  Whatever.  Anyway, the infamous Bill Hall hits him way the hell better than anyone else on the team, to the tune of a .700 batting average.  Really.  Yes, THAT Bill Hall.  Who is himself a Reggie Cleveland All-Star.  Hunter hit a home run off him, too.  So there’s that.

That Myers has only one win certainly says something about our bullpen.  It stinks! Haw haw haw!  I’ll be here all night, folks!  Collectively, the team that made Milwaukee famous hits .304 against him, with Mark Kotsay (who’s apparently still alive) at the top with a .667 BA.  Fielder is .333 with three homers.  Myers better perform, because I need to wash the Figueroa taste out of my mouth.

Saturday, April 30th

6:05 CST, MMPUS

Randy Wolf (3-2, 2.64) v. Wandy Rodriguez (1-3, 5.40)

The One That Got Away v. The One That Needs To Get Back Where He Was.  And don’t act like you wouldn’t rather have Wolf in this spot in the rotation, because we all would.  This concludes the only second guessing of Ed Wade I’ll permit myself for the rest of the month.  It’s a good thing we’ve got Wolf v. Wandy, because Wandy has hit a homer off of him, which guarantees that it will happen again.  Wallace, Sanchez and Q are both over .300 against Wolf, too.

Wandy needs a good start.  This is obvious.  Dunno if the Brew Crew will oblige:  they hit .294 off of him, with McGehee,  Braun, Weeks, and Hart all over .300 against him.  But hey, he strikes out Carlos Gomez a lot.

Sunday, May 1st

1:05 CST, MMPUS

Chris Narveson (1-1, 4.33) v. Bud Norris (1-1, 3.86)

Narveson is one of those classic Brewers pitchers who somehow ends each season with double-digit wins despite an ERA higher than James Franco after half a semester at UH.    He’s literally never gotten Bill Hall out, which shows what kind of shitbag he is.  Bourn and Lee are both over .400 against him.  Get him early, before Bud has his sixth inning.

Bud was on the Yahoo(!) fantasy baseball home page as an advised pickup because of his strikeout numbers.  Okay, great.  I still think he’d be a great throw-in in the Mythological Carlos Lee Trade of 2011.  Corey Hart and Rickie Weeks get on base more than half of the time against him.  Which wouldn’t be so bad if they weren’t the guys who bat ahead of The Big Vegetarian.

Injury Report!

Astros:

Still sharper than Milo

Alberto ” Dead Meat” Arias –  Alberto ‘Dead Meat’ Arias is dead. So is Mo Green, Tataglia, Barzini, the heads of all the five families. It is at moments like these, my dear friends, that we must ask ourselves: “How can this not be part of some larger plan?” Do good men like Dead Meat Arias just blink out one day like a bad bulb? I mean, one minute you’re in bed with a knockout gal… or guy, and the next, you’re a compost heap. Doesn’t that bother any of you? Because it scares the living piss outta me!

Jason Castro – Heroically hobbling somewhere.

Jeff Keppinger – Almost ready to push a deserving member of the team out of their hard-earned roster spot.  Or get Bill Hall DFA’d.  Whatever.

Wilton Lopez – Irritated nerve.  Must’ve been watching Berkman lately.

Jason Michaels – Jim Edmonds Disease.

Brewers:

Erick Almonte – Ooh, he’s on that new special 7-Day DL.  You know what that means?  DON’T LET HIM FALL ASLEEP HE COULD DIE!!!  Also, I’m not a doctor, but my mom pretended to be one.

Zack Grienke – Cracked his ribs while crying about how much he loved Robert Pattison in Water For Elephants.

Nyjer Morgan – 15 Day DL: racial tension in his name.

Manny Parra – Facet Joint Injury in his back.  So simplistic.  Why not a multi-faceted injury next time.

Takashi Saito – Left hamstring strain.  *carefully avoids a Japan joke*

Prrrrrromotions!

No caption necessary.

Every day is Price Matters day.  Seems we got this Depression on, and I got to do for me and mine.

Friday: Fireworks!  A green shirt!  These are YOUR Astros!

Saturday: Pence “Play Green” Bobblehead.  Yeah.  Green like the inside of a fresh cow pie.

Sunday: Bike to the Ballpark, which is great if you live inside the Loop.  Like meeeeeee!  Smell the superiority from here!

What To Watch For:

The return of the Barmes.  And by return we mean debut.

The expectations of April to be dashed by the brutal summer heat.

Infield defense.  Hallelujah.

Talk it up in the Game Zone!

After a lamentable start to 2011, we’re headed back to Minute Maid with a win tucked in our belts, something that the retahhhds in Bahhhstahn can’t claim at this point.   As is our tradition, the SnS crowd will convene first at Spanish Flowers and then at MMPUS for this opening series at home; local authorities report that both Limey and HudsonHawk have been on a three day bender in preparation, and are expected to arrive at Alice’s Tall Texan in a 1958 Cadillac convertible towing a bbq trailer and piled high with lotion and empty Shiner bottles.

Keep steppin'

We take solace in these traditions, because uncertainty will hit us like a blast of a/c in August as soon as we arrive inside the stadium.  Defensively, these Astros are ugly.  Like, Lemmy ugly but without the rocking and alcohol.  Like “that one girl on Facebook who only shows her left eye in her profile pic” ugly.  I never thought I’d see the day when I awaited the healthy return of Jeff Keppinger for the sake of his defense, but here we are.

I’d join the chorus of haters, naysayers, professional pessimists and Debbie Downers at this point if it weren’t for one damned thing: baseball is back.  I found myself at a junior high-level baseball game earlier this week, in defiance of that court order, and it was just so damn comforting.  The stretch.  The pitch.  The fielders crouched at the ready.  The sound of bat hitting ball.  The dash around the bases.  The third base coach frantically waving the runner home.  The blood gushing from the umpire’s nose.  (Oh yeah: sixth graders are about as good at finding the cut-off man as our Face of the Franchise, so there is bound to be collateral damage.)  Again, it was familiar.

It’s going to be a tough season to be an Astros fan.  But that’s the point, isn’t it?  It’s often pointed out at this juncture that the word “fan” is derived from “fanatic”, but in reality there’s nothing fanatical about being a fan in times like these.  It’s more familial than fanatical.  You stick with family, even when they screw up for the hundredth time, because they’re family.  We’ve chosen to be Astros fans, or we had it chosen for us by family or geography, but we’re family regardless.  So let the haters hate.  Let talk radio and Pinwheel stew and strive for pageviews.  Let the national pundits forget that we exist until the trade deadline; I’m looking forward to ringing in the new season with my family.  Even the weird ones.

Probable Pitchers:

Friday, April 8th, 2011

6:05 CST, MMPUS

Ricky Nolasco (0-0, 2.57) v. Wandy Rodriguez (0-1, 15.75)

Nolasco is looking for his first decision after a strong opening outing against the Bravos.  He’s got a strong record (3-1) lifetime against the Blood and Mud, but Bourn, Pence, Hall and of course Inglett have all hit him well.  Pence has three homers off this bastard.

Wandy.  Oh Wandy.  I could just copy and paste what’s been written a thousand times about him before.  You either get Good Wandy, with the curveball that falls like Britney Spears at an awards show, or you get Bad Wandy, who hangs pitches all day until Mills brings the hook.  Last week in Philly we got Bad Wandy.  The good news is that we still have a 50-50 chance of getting Good Wandy tonight.  Hanley Ramirez has him pretty well figured out to the tune of a 1.319 OPS;  the team as a whole hits .289 off him.

Saturday, April 9^th, 2011

6:05 CST, MMPUS

Javier Vazquez (0-1, 15.43) v. Bud Norris (0-1, 11.25)

LHP. 12-15. 4.65 ERA.

Vazquez is just 33.  I find this strange, because I’m pretty convinced he’s been in the league ever since he dropped in on these shores with Vasco De Gama.   I swear to crap he pitched for the Boston Braves.  Anyway, Hall and Pence are the only hitters above .300 against him, and Gunther has a dinger.  Carlos has hit 3 homers off of him, too, but also has 3 K’s to match.

Budly is in an odd spot in his career.  I’m with Mr. Happy or whoever it was who suggested that he be made a closer so that he doesn’t have to worry about seeing hitters twice and all that shit.  But for now he’s  a starter, and the closest thing to a #3 guy that we have until Lyles is deemed ready for promotion.  Hanley is hitting .444 against him, as is Omar The Infant(e).

Sunday, April 10^th 2011

1:05 CST, MMPUS

Anibal Sanchez (0-0, 3.18) v. J.A. Happ (0-1, 15.75)

One of these years, pointing out that Anibal is a girl’s name will cease to be funny to me.  This is not that year.   Little Dolphin Ani gets hit pretty hard by the Big Johnson, and by the Mighty Matt Downs.  Everyone else combines for .152 against him.  The Babdists who wander over to Minute Maid after church might wish they’d gone to Luby’s instead.

As a former NL East-er, Happ has seen a lot of Fish in his day.  And they hit .167 against him.  So that’s a good sign.  The bad news is Happ looked rough last outing, and you have to wonder if the strain that almost kept him from missing his first start is affecting him.  Kudos to the kid for pitching through pain, though.

Injuries (FOR YOUR FANTASY TEAM!)

Astros:

Alberto Arias – (15 day DL) tendinits, throwing off the mound.  Is it beyond statute of limitations for blaming Cooper for wearing him out?

Clint Barmes – (15 day DL) broken bone in left hand.  Could be back sooner than expected, which would be great.  Even with a bum hand, he’ll be a defensive upgrade.  Hell, tie a cinder block to his hand and he might still be an upgrade.

It's the Citizen Kane of "Zooey Tied Up" movies.

Michael Bourn – (day-to-day) The Real FOTF has tightness in the groin.  Look, buddy, we’re all excited about Natalie Portman and Zooey Deschanel in the same movie, but there’s no need to go overboard.

Jason Castro – (15 day DL) I almost didn’t believe this.  15 day DL?  Is there some chance that he’s Wolverine and is going to heal suddenly and be catching again before the All-Star break?

Jeff Keppinger – (15 day DL) We can rebuild him.  Better.  Stronger. Faster.

Delicious Sushi:

John Baker – (60 day DL) The MLB description says that he’s “not ready to catch in Majors”.  You and me both, Baker.

Michael Stanton – (day-to-day) Tightness in right leg from where Jeff Loria took his pound of flesh.

The only odd thing about these Opening Day shindigs is the introductions.  Everyone else in my life knows my name is Rob.  But I’m going to explain about 20 times tonight that I’m two people: Rob and GBB.  Some of y’all won’t ever really meet Rob, but you might know GBB.  It’s an odd quirk of internet life: the moment you open your mouth and tell someone what your name is, except you don’t say your real name.  You throw out a handle.  It feels weird in your mouth.  You offer your real name almost as an apology, that I’m not really like this.  I’m not obsessed with Jeff’s facial hair.  GBB tastes weird to me.

And that, of course, is what she said.  Can’t wait to see you nincompoops again.

What To Watch For:

–          Fuck all this.  It’s baseball.  Just watch it.  Enjoy the sights, the smells, the sounds.  It’s spring and it’s new and it’s right.  Even when we lose.  Especially when we lose.

The minute particulars of what qualifies for seasonal changes in Houston are subtle.  It’s skin deep, quite literally:  fall means mosquito bites aren’t part of your complexion any more.  Further north and east, hidebound traditions about white clothing and Labor Day still hang on, despite the fact that seersucker cotton would be damned comfortable in Houston in November most years.

For me, the best way to acknowledge the seasonal cycle is by watching the beer calendar.  It seems silly that I’ve already been drinking Oktoberfest beers for almost a month, but I’m still sweating through my undershirt by just walking from my office to my parking spot.  But as the humidity finally breaks and the patios of our watering holes become habitable again, the malty goodness of a strong Marzen sets the tone just as surely as the first cold snap.

The onset of fall also brings my transition from tequila, bourbon and rye to scotch.  It never seemed quite right to drink an Islay when the only thing that’s peat-like is the bartender’s taint.    I tried a scotch-fortified cocktail at Anvil last week, and while it was as exquisite you’d expect from them, it was like drinking a Tom Waits song.  And that just doesn’t fly when it’s still in the mid-nineties.  But if it’s below 90 this weekend, expect to find me standing outside with a highball of Laphroaig, toasting the  coming fall.

Also, baseball is still being played, by a team that’s far more fun to watch than the one that played in April.

Probable Pitchers

Monday, September 13th

7:05 CT, MMPUS

Chris Narveson (11-7, 5.20) v. Brett Myers (11-7, 2.91)

Narveson and Myers have identical records, but the pasty and chipper-looking Narveson has had a messier road to his eleven.  The local nine hit him quite well; Sweet Baby Bourn sports a 1.267 OPS, and even Tommy Mazella hits .500 off of him.

The Ace With The Pubes On His Chin (hereafter, TAWTPOHC) slaps the Brewers around like a…sorry, still can’t make that joke.  Only Casey McGehee, Prince “Here, Brett Wallace.  That’s the phone number for my pants tailor.  You’re gonna love ’em.” Fielder and Ricky Weeks hit him well at all.

Tuesday, September 14th

7:05 CT, MMPUS

Chris Capuano (3-3, 4.09) v. Bud Norris (7-8, 5.16)

The parade of Chrises continues on Tuesday.  Capuano has split time between the rotation and bully this year after being an exclusive starter in past years.  I guess desperate times call for desperate measures.  Whatever the hell that means.  Bourn and Michaels both hit him pretty well, but everyone else is shi-tay.

Budly is coming off a blisteringly hot outing and is looking to get some success against a Brewer team that’s hit him quite well in the past.  Mr. Nighttime Sunglasses and McGehee have had particular good luck against him, but Prince (as so rarely happens) goes hungry against him.

Wednesday, September 15th

1:05 CT, MMPUS

Dave Bush (7-12, 4.59) v. J.A. Happ (5-2, 3.08)

Haha…his name is a slang term for vagina and the same as a disliked president! Hur hur hur.  Johnson and Blum both beat around the Bush, so a modified lineup with two third basemen sounds like a good plan.

Happ’s continued to show that the Wade/Smith Mothership probably knows what it’s doing with all these ex-Phils.  Other than Geary, who was perfectly serviceable for a couple years, there haven’t been any out and out busts from the City of Brotherly Love.  He dominates the Brewers, with one infuriating exception: Dave Bush.  Really.  Motherfucker is hitting 1.000 off him.  What’s that?  It’s only one at-bat?  Oh.  Well who fucking cares then?

Injuries

Astros:

Alberto Arias: I truly cannot think of anything else amusing to say here.  Get well for 2011, Al.

Chris Johnson: a sore Johnson is a horrible thing.

Brian Moheler: Brad Mills nods silently.  It is time to release him to an ice floe.  A single tear trickles down his bald cheek.

“Don’t look.” says Arnsberg, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

Brewers:

Doug Davis: Threw a successful bullpen session, despite having a Brazilian chin waxing.

LaTroy Hawkins: Struggling with being the only skinny black guy in Wisconsin.

Gregg Zaun: Seriously?  Isn’t he like the Jamie Moyer of catchers?  I think he caught Vida Blue.

What To Watch For:

Wallace in the 8 Hole: the batting spot that’s also his body shape!

The 2011 rotation, in 2010!

Late-arriving deadlines!

Discuss the games in the appropriately-named Game Zone!