Tuesday, April 11, 2006
Kick Some Astros
I often get depressed seeing the various Felizes and Mathenii in the Giants' lineup, but looking at the Astros I feel a lot better. If I had to root for a team tossing Wily Taveras, Adam Everett, Brad Ausmus, and the corpse of Craig Biggio out there and hoping to score runs, I'd just flat out off myself right then and there. I'll be frank, if the Giants can't win two out of three I'll be extremely disappointed. The success over the Braves has me overconfident. Dammit, if they can't beat a pansy-ass Houston lineup at home, how did they beat Atlanta two of three?
-A lot of people are worrying about Barry Bonds. No, he doesn't look good. Yes, that knee looks like it's bothering him. Yes, the steroid mongers are slobbering at every struggle he has. All I have to say is, it's early, let's not get too worked up. We've seen Bonds go through rough stretches before, then suddenly break out and start launching broken bat homers off of Josh Beckett-types. Give the guy some time, and I'm sure it'll turn out all right. Even now, his ability to get on base every other plate appearance is an enormous asset.
-This weekend the Giants set a record by having the oldest starting outfield ever. As good as Bonds/Finley/Alou might be, do we really want to be associated with this kind of thing? Think of the jokes. When the Giants go into opposing ballparks, they'll be fodder for fans yelling out On Golden Pond references. "Do you want to play ball, or do you want to just suck face?" Hell, if I were a Cubs fan and the Giants came to town, I'd definitely be in the left field bleachers yelling, holding up a sign showing this guy:
I guess the upside would be using the money from the kickbacks the team gets from Depends and Oxfords to nab a key bat at the trade deadline.
Update: As I write this, it seems as though the game tonight has been rained out. Joy. What is with this late-winter crap? Give me some sun already. Here in Sacramento we get brutal heat for three months that everybody bitches about, but I would take some 95 degree weather at this point. I'm starting to feel like a character from The Crow in all this damn rain. "Abashed, the Devil stood", and so forth... Cue the Cure music, and Michael Wincott's gravelly-voiced creepiness.