Results tagged ‘ A’s ’
We baseball fans are a masochistic bunch. Oh, I’m not saying we that seek out pain, per se. I mean, who among us wouldn’t prefer a winning scenario for our team? But in those seasons where, despite our desires, the painful losses just keep piling up, we do tend stick around…and stick around…and stick around some more…and then some. Watching. Rooting, even if sometimes with more than a tinge of disappointed sarcasm. Hoping, even if at times, deep down, we suspect our hope is misplaced. In any other season, I might choose to call this fan behavior stubborn loyalty or even optimism, occasionally to the point of idiocy. But, this season? Yeah, I’m sticking with masochism. You’ve all had seasons like that, I’m sure, so the term stands.
The Angels started off badly in 2013 and, despite rare rays of hope temporarily piercing the gloom, it’s only gotten worse…and here I am, still watching. Yet, oddly enough, the first time I started really contemplating this whole fan masochism thing was in the final innings of the Angels terrible, horrible, no good, really fucking long, loss to the A’s on the 29th and 30th of May. That game was all kinds of ugly from the very beginning. For every wonderful thing, spot on thing the Angels did – Albert Pujols and Mark Trumbo outright raking and hitting a bomb a piece, Jerome Williams long relief performance, plenty of 2-out derring-do – they committed at least 2 outright crimes against baseball – mass LOBster infestations, instances of crap fielding that would make a AA team blush and meatballs pitched to Brandon Moss.
Heading into extra innings as the visiting team, the deck is always a little stacked against you from the beginning. But this game? Honestly, I knew the Angels chances of pulling off a win were slim, owing to the evening and, eventually, morning’s ratio of shoddy play to good. And I knew that those chances grew slimmer with every inning as the mistakes piled on and more time on the field made one colossal, final mistake more and more likely. And, yet, still I watched and tweeted my support and sarcasm – because with me, even at the best of times, those are two are pretty inseparable concepts. Past 11 p.m. Past midnight. Past kissing my husband goodnight and heading back downstairs so I wouldn’t keep him awake with my cheers and shouting (he had an early meeting scheduled and is generally smarter than me about these things anyway). Past one in the morning all the way to the end of the game some 19 innings and six hours and 32 minutes after it started. And, here’s the thing. Remember how I said I was tweeting? Yeah, well, so were a lot of other Angels fans all the way through to the end. Several of them California transplants living in later time zones. Diehard Angels fans and complete and utter baseball masochists, the lot of us.
After that no less deflating for being more than somewhat likely defeat, I promised myself that I would take a little rest from the Angels and not watch the game the next night…er…later that night. I mean, a lady’s got to catch up on her sleep at some point, right? Apparently many of the other #AngelsFamily diehards who were awake right along with me through 19 innings decided the same thing…a fact of which we are all aware because, in a completely shocking, surprise…drumroll, please…yup, you guessed it…we were all watching the next game from the very first pitch until the end. Another game the Angels lost, I might add. Yeah, like I said. Baseball masochists, the lot of us.
And, here I am, still watching whenever possible, my membership in the league of masochistic baseball fans having become fully apparent to me round about the first pitch that Tuesday evening game after the 19 inning marathon. I asked Seth to text me updates while I was away at a work conference in Las Vegas this weekend, and he happily obliged…even though the team only went one for three. I came home as quickly as I could last night and this evening…to make sure I caught the losses. I will probably do the same for Thursday’s game…and this weekend’s and beyond. The Angels are my team. I am their fan. And, willingly or unwillingly, we baseball fans are a masochistic bunch.
And if, for the most part, I’m avoiding MLBN as opposed to my usual downright addiction to the daily lineup of whatever part of Intentional Talk/MLB Tonight/Quick Pitch/etc. my schedule allows me to catch? Well, maybe my baseball masochism does know a few bounds. Right now I just don’t want to hear the daily Angels post mortem. I mean, when a team with this much talent performs this badly — tying a clubhouse record for terrible starts no less! — it’s definitely news. Although, considering the questionable pitching situation the Angels had even before the injuries, I seriously have to ask just how shocking a news story it is but, by all means, carry on. I just don’t need to hear it right now. I already know how bad it is, thank you very much.
So, in the middle of all of this baseball masochism, am I also pessimistic? I don’t know how this works for others suffering from my condition, and perhaps a few of you could enlighten me, but for me the situation is dire beyond the point of either pessimism or of optimism. Right now, the Angels are like a family member who has contracted a terrible illness, something very serious but not life threatening, like those poor folks who’ve been in various stages of bedridden with this year’s flu for three weeks or more. In a situation like that, you really have to concentrate on the here and now, on getting the patient back up and on their feet, before you can even begin to worry about niceties like the work event next week, that great party they’re supposed to go to in two weekends, or the hiking vacation you have planned together next month. Right now, I can’t even think about June, July and so on for the Angels, let alone September and October. I’m still reeling from April and hoping the team can start playing to their capabilities before the rest of May drifts by in a sea of L’s and games below .500, as well. *sigh* Come on Angels, dazzle us.
Yes, Seth and I did continue our relatively new tradition of attending the Angels home opener this year. And, yes, that was the better part of a week ago and I should have posted about it days ago. But I’ve sort of been holding off, waiting for the Angels to give me a reason to write something positive and cheerful. *sigh* Can you blame a girl? At this point I can see that the Angels are just mired in a terrible slump right now and it may take them awhile to work through it, a fact I am embracing with the sort of frustrated patience and loyal resignation that may indeed be unique to sports fans. However, thinking back on the Angels’ opening day, I can honestly say that even knowing today how the rest of the series turned out, that initial walking through the gates magic of the home opener still stands, and that seemed worth writing about.
Weeknight baseball games in the greater Los Angeles/Orange County area are tricky to time right under the best of circumstances. First pitch is at 7:05. Seth and I get off work at 6…ish…often a very large ish. And traffic is, well, storied and with reason. By now we’re pros at getting to the stadium, rushing to our section and sinking into our seats just in time for first pitch. Arriving any earlier takes a certain amount of luck and luck was not on our side that evening. We missed the dramatic home opener team introductions, the giant flag on the field and most of the other Opening Day traditions.
No matter. We caught the flyover from the parking lot and looking straight up at six WWII AT-6 fighters flying low in formation is all kinds of cool no matter where you’re standing. Watching the planes bank and head away while the stadium staff checked bags and tickets helped settle me out of rushing mode and into a more celebratory frame mind – a helpful reminder that this was not just any game. The feeling continued and grew as we rushed through the stadium toward our seats, goose bumps of anticipation rising on my arms as all of those familiar Angels pre-game sounds surrounded us. Train’s Calling All Angels. The historical news reels announcing the creation of the Angels franchise and subsequent team milestones. Thin Lizzy’s The Boys Are Back in Town as the guys start to take the field, all prompting a welling of excited emotions that led to the following internal exchange – yes, I talk to myself and myself talks back. What of it?
Are you…are you crying? No. S’dusty. The stadium’s barely been used in months.
Good. Because you know that thing about baseball? That thing about how there’s absolutely no crying in it? No, really. S’just dusty. Really, really dusty.
Okaaaaay, so I teared up a little…er…a lot. I will cop to becoming strangely emotional and sentimental over really odd things. But, hey, it was the home opener. Tears may have been a little over the top but if you’re a baseball fan and your home opener doesn’t provoke some sort of emotional response, might I suggest a trip to the doctor’s to check up on your heart, because it’s already clear that you have no soul.
And if only the game itself had been at all good. As good C.J. Wilson handily dealing with those first two batters, perhaps, before he began to blow chunks, giving up three runs before the Angels were able to finally make that third out. Or, as good as innings three through six, perhaps, after Wilson had, quite admirably, calmed down and pitched well and the Angels started to score, eventually taking a small lead. If only any of the things, then that initial, walking through the gates excitement would have remained even if the A’s had still managed to win. But as it stands? With the miscues. The bad pitches. The sloppy play. The 13 frickin’ LOBsters! The eventual near blowout. That excitement remains relegated to the joy of being back at the stadium after the long winter away and is far removed from the game itself. *sigh* Some seasons are like that.
Now, if only I could laugh about my own disappointment over one game out of 162. But the Angels’ had been paying well, well below their potential leading up the home opener and it seems to be getting worse. Like I said at the beginning of this post, I’m resigned to the fact that this is just something the team is stuck in the middle of and might not find their way out of for a while. Meanwhile the injuries, starting with Jered Weaver, and the other hits just keep on coming. I firmly believe that this is not what the rest of the season will look like. This team is too talented to never find their rhythm and play well together. Now, will they be able to that before they lose enough games that they’ve effectively blown their season in April no matter how well they play May through September? Well, that is the $127.8 million question, now isn’t it? I honestly do not have a feel for the answer right now and I am dying for some sign of life for the team to justify even the smallest return of my usual sunny optimism.
I can tell you what I do know though. As a fan this just feels icky right now. My brain is a morass of conflicting thoughts, all of them tending toward the grumpy. I absolutely do not want to hear, ‘It’s early still. I mean, this is a marathon not a sprint.’ and the usual platitudes as if this is no big deal. With each game the Angels play like this, we draw exponentially closer to too late. At the same time, don’t let me hear anyone saying it’s over. Not yet. The season is in real danger but it could still be salvageable, so just take that talk right on over to someone else’s blog. Oh and, warning, because this behavior is already showing up on Twitter and FaceBook in full force, if anyone starts quoting that lame, pointless and beyond trite, “But back in 2002 the Angels started the season terribly and…” to me, I really will start throwing things at you. Yes. Through the internet.
And now, I am out of time. I am heading off to my second game of the year, so I may post catch up photos from Opening Day later, and hopefully with a brain spinning with the sort of giddy, early optimism that a few wins this weekend could still bring out in me.
I’m very excited! Look what the mailman brought me:
World Baseball Classic tickets! Yes, Seth and I are going to spring training this year – a first for both of us! It will be the Arizona Baseball Extravaganza. We have our accommodations set, the requisite time off work and a fun, full list of spring training plans. We have tickets to Angels vs. D-Backs on 3/8, Angels vs. Rockies on 3/9 and the WBC games at Chase field for our evening’s entertainment. Sunday, we’re still not sure. We might go to the WBC game, or see what other ST game we can nab cheap lawn seats at, or maybe just grab breakfast and head back to L.A. So, hey, if anyone else is going to ST that weekend and wants to say ‘Hi’ and/or if any of you ST veterans have a great restaurant, bar and/or other must see suggestions, please let me know in the comments. Like I said, we’re very excited spring training newbies.
The itinerary sounds like heaven to Seth and I, but I am aware that this is a lot of baseball. The last time we tried to baseball all day long, at the Angels/A’s double header, we discovered a noticeable, yet far from unworkable, difference in our baseball thresholds. If you recall, the first game wasn’t exactly a short one and the second game went into extra innings. I wanted the second game to go on for as many innings as necessary for an Angels victory — an Angels victory that, alas, did not materialize – while suddenly, about the 10th inning, after some 9 hours of baseball, Seth was ready to be done. We stayed until the end – because he loves me very, very much and is a wonderful husband – but that last inning was a little much for him.
Now, we have agreed that what this really says is that I am a crazy person and not that he is a wimp. No, really, I would be that insane fan still watching the game from our seats at 2 a.m…in the 18th inning…on a week night…in the rain…with an early meeting awaiting me the next day, while Seth would have more sensibly wanted to go home sometime around midnight or so and at least be dry while catching the end of the game on the radio. However, knowing that this crazy person/passionate yet more sensible fan discrepancy exists is highly useful information and is the reason we’ve left the exact number of WBC we’re attending TBD and Sunday wide open to any whim that might take us. We’ll figure out what makes us both happy this trip, and know better how to plan for future baseball trips. But, however things work out, I know we’re going to have a blast together! We always do.
In the meantime, yes, I know the Angels have yet to win a game. I guess that’s supposed to concern me, but I have a really hard time getting too wound up about the overall record of extra early Spring Training games, when we’re still changing pitchers every single inning, changing the majority of the lineup at the 3rd/4th inning and again at the 6th/7th inning and during which few if any of the regular players are even on the field. And especially not when most of the pitchers MLB-wide are so very, very rusty. This is the very reason we have spring training – so that it’s February and March that look like this, instead of April and May. So, for now, I’m just going to revel in the glorious sounds of baseballs striking leather gloves and the crack of the bat on nicely hit balls – all of which sound so much clearer and more true to the live sounds of the ballpark on a ST broadcast than they do on a regular season broadcast where you have so much more crowd noise and sound-baffling cement – and in the promise of hearing those sounds live and seeing more improved performances and more regular players in just a few weeks.
Just before 5 p.m., feeding time for our baseball addiction, Seth and I crept down the mountain from the Yosemite cabin to catch the game at a truly delicious barbecue joint in Oakhurst. We have meals to cook at the cabin, despite the lack of stove, and things we want to do in the evenings that preclude a 90 minute round trip just to find an available television, so we knew we were only going to catch one more game this vacation and, as it turned out, we picked a fun one. I chose this evening’s game because I wanted to see a great pitchers’ duel and just hoped that Barry Zito would hold up his end of the bargain by building on his heroic NLCS outing. I never expected that a pitchers’ duel would fail to materialize because Justin Verlander was having an off night. But, you know what? Those cheesy Postseason commercials really are true: you can’t script October.
Usually I don’t enjoy a blowout as much as a close game, even when the winning team is the team I’m rooting for, but who could possibly call themselves a baseball fan and not enjoy Pablo Sandoval’s three homerun game? …Well…okay, fine…Tigers fans get a pass on this one. Sandoval is now only the fourth player to hit three home runs in a Postseason game. Talk about complete and utter Panda-monium in the Bay Area! Also, I think that this one-sided score doesn’t really tell the whole story. From what I saw, yes, the Tigers absolutely gave up when Verlander got shelled, but they also recovered and tried valiantly to get back in the game at the end there, it was just too little, too late. The end result was a dazzling display of highlight reel worthy diving and leaping defensive plays on both sides. With the Tigers showing strong signs of life at the end to the point that the Giants blew through three relievers to get the last three outs, tomorrow’s game could be a different story. But, a story with a similar Giants ending or one more to the Tigers liking, who can say. See previous comment about commercial cliches, scripting and October.
Woah, Woah, Woah. What’s with all this Giants Stuff?
Okay, okay. I know what you all must be thinking, reading my last few posts. Is this an Angels blog or some sort of weird hybrid Giants/Nationals/Orioles blog heavier on the west coast bias than on the east? Have the Angels finally driven this blogger so crazy that she’s lost all focus? Now that’s just crazy talk. Of course this is an Angels blog. But this is October, the Angels almost-an-October never quite materialized, and I will be damned if I spend the month mourning the lack of Angels to such a degree that I miss out on the LAST FEW WEEKS OF BASEBALL before the looooong wintery time without.
Even as a huge fan of the game, it’s so much more fun to root for someone than just to watch with no skin in the game, so once the Angels are out of the running, I pick other teams to root for. Borrowed skin, as it were. No, this isn’t being a bandwagon fan. Bandwagon fans hop on that bandwagon in good times and pretend they’re diehards from way back before jumping right off again in bad times. No bandwagon fans here. I am simply shamelessly loving the one I am with, namely your team, for a week or two or however long they last in the postseason because I can’t be with the one I want…and I have absolutely no problem explaining that. …Also, yes, my father did raise me with an appreciation for the classics and generally excellent taste in music. Why do you ask?
This postseason my adopt a team philosophy has lead me to root for the Nationals – because they’d never been to the World Series as Expos or Nationals and I like rooting for a lovable underdog – the Orioles – because of their long World Series drought, see previous discussion of the Nationals – the A’s – because they had a fun team this season despite the fact that I almost never root for another AL West team also I couldn’t very well break tradition now and root for the Yankees – the Tigers – see previous conversation about the A’s – and the Giants because of family ties…
Our Blogger Heroine’s Strange Origins
…Long story shortened, I am the lone living Red sheep (my grandfather was a diehard Angels fan) in a family split on both my mother’s and my father’s sides between the Dodgers fan base and the Giants. Oddly enough, this means I grew up with a weird affection for both teams. But Kristen, how can you like both teams? Don’t you know about the Dodgers/Giants rivalry? Hello, did you not just read the previous two sentences? I have family on both sides of the rivalry…family who share food across the table at holiday gatherings…holiday gatherings that take place in the months following the baseball postseason. Savvy?
Such passion, while often contentious, is also contagious so, as improbable and downright wrong as this sounds, I have both an affection and a respect for the Dodgers and the Giants that still pales in comparison to my diehard passion for the Angels. I follow the Dodgers and the Giants out of the corner of my eye while I’m watching the Angels all season. I know the players on both teams and generally wish them both well. If either the Dodgers or the Giants makes it to the Postseason and there are no Angels to root for, then I’m rooting for that team. If both of them ever make it to the Postseason and there are no Angels to root for, well then I’ll probably root for the Dodgers – my immediate family are the Dodgers fans, so I grew up going to games in Chavez Ravine – and try to lay low on FaceBook when the cousins start trash talking. So, you see, it doesn’t matter that I felt nothing particularly for or against the Reds, that I generally like the Cardinals, and that I think the Tigers have a pretty fun team this season. This Giants rooting thing was as inevitable as it is fun and strictly relegated to an Angel-less October.
Congratulations to all of the teams who earned playoff berths and many thanks to all of the teams (even those like the Angels, Rays and Dodgers who didn’t quite make it) who helped make this playoff race such an exhilarating, every single game counts right down to the wire, experience. Yeah, I’m actually even gonna tip my glass to old Bud Selig for the change in playoff formats. I don’t compliment Bud very often for obvious reasons, and I did initially dread the format change, but if the end result that every season ends roughly like this, then that is one worthwhile format change! (We’ll talk about this evening’s crappy call and Wild Card Game under protest later after I’ve noodled over it a bit, as a former manager of mine used to say. But, in general, even with that, my *cringe* compliment still stands.)
Special congratulations to the Nationals and the Orioles for defying expectations and recent history all season long and to the A’s for what – seriously, all rivalries aside – was an absolutely epic comeback. While, of course, I wish the Angels had been able to push even harder in September and come back even farther to take the playoff berth in their place (or in the Rangers’), as a baseball fan, I just plain tip my glass to the A’s achievement as well. And I have one more glass tip – to Miguel Cabrera, and in his case let’s respectfully amend that to a hat tip, shall we. Yes, naturally I know all about the raging AL MVP debate right now and the season’s hot and heavy race for the batting title between Cabrera and our Angels’ hero, Mike Trout. But I want to set all that aside for a little while. The first Triple Crown since Carl Yastrzemski in 1967? Wow! Seriously, wow! That is a big deal. Congratulations to Miguel Cabrera on an achievement that adds his to a very select and impressive list of names.
Yes, of course, I am disappointed my Angels didn’t make it to the Postseason, but they took too long to gell as a team, losing too many games along the way, and even though their play in the 2nd half was inspired, they were flat out outplayed by the A’s. And you know what? Fie on all of this failed season talk from the analysts. That’s baseball. Sometimes you get outplayed. Yes, the Angels spent a metric F ton of money on the team this season, but since when does money guarantee success? Big payrolls and big free agent signings don’t work out – or, as in the Angels case, don’t work out right away – all the time. Besides, the Angels had a lot of be proud of this season with a no hitter and an epic, record breaking rookie season both high on that list. (And, if you’re of a mind, you can check out what else I had to say on this very subject on L.A. Angels Insider.) I tip my glass to the Angels twice – once in mourning for the season that wasn’t, and once in pride for the season that was!
Yes, I do read the fabled wisdom that is the internets. I am aware that Angels fans are rumored to be some of the whiniest, most “it’s always someone else’s fault,” overly entitled fans out there and I do understand that if you read it on the internet it absolutely must be true and all that. Well, fie on all of that too – and since when are there rules for such things anyway and who gets to write them I ask? The Angels were outplayed. I am disappointed but far from devastated. I offer my sincere congratulations to all of those who did the outplaying. (More tips of the glass…yes, the Postseason demands quite a few tips of one’s glass. It’s excellent practice for the offseason which requires even more to get through. Why do you ask?) And I promise to regale the lot of you with all of my hopes, plans and general armchair GMing for the Angels 2013 throughout the fall and winter. You have been warned.
Oh, please excuse me. Just indulging in a bit of morning-before-the-game-after-an-off-day-and-Angels-moved-another-half-game-closer-to-a-wild-card-berth levity over here, with apologies to Barnes & Barnes and, of course, Dr. Demento.
Ah the Trout heads, as fans and various Angels vendors affectionately refer to these goofy, bright red, fish shaped, nerf weapon of a piece of head gear if I ever saw one, hats. So disturbingly silly they’re absolutely awesome, am I right? Of course I am. Look, even Angels players know how great these things are:
Basically, the way I see it, these hats are but one more strong testament to the unbelievable power of Mike Trout. Don’t buy it? Look, Southern Californians simply do not wear stupid hats. Not for team spirit. Not for unity. Not for nothing, unless they’re Mickey Mouse ears or, apparently, Trout heads. See that? No stats or proof of increased game attendance needed. Simply put, Angels fans are awesome and Mike Trout is bigger than Mickey Mouse.
…and all of this – the photos, the parody, the silliness – because the Angels successfully completed their sweep of the White Sox, the A’s lost to Texas last night while the O’s moved no further ahead in the standings, and I am getting so excited for this next series I can barely contain myself! Thank you for indulging me in my silliness, dear reader. We now return you to your regularly scheduled MLBlogs programming.
This post was brought to you by letters S, G and K, the number 27 and the zany stir craziness an off day this late in the season has been shown to produce in lab animals and the occasional friendly neighborhood Angels blogger.
This end of the regular season prep, ball park therapy is great and all, but I have to say that my second session was significantly less satisfying than my first. Eight innings of solid pitching love from Zack Greinke went sadly unrequited by the Angels offense and were outright spurned by the bullpen in the 9th. It was deflating. (No, worries though, subsequent Angels victories have buoyed my spirits, but I’ll get to that. :) )
Now, I didn’t expect the Angels to sweep the Rangers by any means. I was fairly certain they‘d win the first game with Jered Weaver on the mound. But, to be honest, I rather expected the Angels would lose Wednesday night’s game. Of course all of my jokes about CJ Wilson being the Arlinington Candidate are just that, but the facts of the matter are he’s rarely been good for much of the second half and he hasn’t been good against the Rangers this season. I did, however, think the Angels had a real chance to take the series on Thursday and, as it turns out, they did have chance. They just didn’t seize that chance, as attested to even more strongly by the long line of 0’s peppered with a few 1s and one 2 in the hit column than Ernesto Frieri’s errant pitch turned nifty souvenir for some “lucky” fan in fair territory in the 9th. Like I said, deflating…until the White Sox series!!
I know, I know, it’s only two wins and the Angels now have a long, long, looooooooong shot ahead of them to earn a wild card berth. But that would be practicality and rationality speaking. I think all diehard baseball fans are just a little bit crazy to begin with and only become more so when the post season is still a faint hope. To wit, one win against the Rangers and I was hopeful. Two straight losses against the Rangers and I believed that those faint notes I was hearing in the distance were the fabled fat lady going through her warm up scales…
…But one solid Angels victory against the White Sox (with way more than the mere requisite pieces of flair in my estimation!) and I start thinking dreamy eyed Angels happy thoughts again. You know, all the Angels have to do is sweep the White Sox and then it would just like winning both the Sox and Rangers series, right? I mean, the White Sox are only in first place in their division with a few players having career years. Pshaw, how hard could that be? Then Baltimore won today and I started hearing those scales again only to have hope return when the A’s lost. Now with a second Angels victory, I’m back to dreamy thoughts of a sweep…hey it could happen. Jered Weaver is on the mound tomorrow.
And then? Okay, now I will be rational. The Angels really can’t afford to lose more than one or two more games before the end of the season and the A’s have to lose a lot more than that. The Angels have to stop filling the bases up with no outs only to strand every runner at the end of the inning. The starters and bullpen need to need to be spot on. No more base running gaffes. No more fielding gaffes. Practically speaking, the Angels need to play playoff baseball now and for the rest of the season however long that may be. Possible? Oh hell yes. Probable? We shall see. Fun? Absolutely! More ball park therapy, please. Stat!
And, in the meantime, enjoy a few more pics from the ballgame on Thursday:
What do you make of a team that can’t get it done at the plate for three games straight against the A’s, games that were about as close to do or die as it gets, but then rallies to shut out the A’s for the 4th game and never stops fighting to come back – twice! – to win their first game against the Royals? A team that falls victim to their own bullpen on Saturday only to be saved by a stellar bullpen performance on Sunday? I feel like I’ve been asking these same questions and similar ones all season long and darned if I’m any closer to an answer in September than I was in April. Here’s the thing though, despite the setbacks, the Angels continue to make progress in the Wild Card race. And that fact makes me giddy excited. These Angels may be alternating between frustrating and exhilarating, but they are absolutely not giving up and October is not out of the question by any means. Oh…and when they’re exhilarating, the way they play the game makes up for a lot.
Jered Weaver’s Back
Back and simply as good as ever! Putting at ease any concerns fans had about an adjustment period, Weaver picked up right where he left off before his bicep tendonitis issues. Looking every bit his old self, Weaver shut the A’s bats down, allowing the Angels to salvage one game from the series. Clearly, Angels’ bats and fielding were also to thank for this victory, but Weaver’s strong return set the tone and turned things around at a point when the Angels season was on the very brink of the point of no return. The decision for AL Cy Young winner may not be as clear cut in Weaver’s favor as it was before his injury, but if that isn’t the very definition of Ace then I don’t know what is.
There Are Only 2.5 Weeks Left in the Regular Season!
I simply cannot wrap my brain around this fact. I feel like the 2012 season has just flown by. Enough with this football thing! Off the television set with it, I say…at least temporarily. It can’t be football season already. We need, like another month or more of the regular baseball season. I am absolutely loving how crazy, awesome this year’s September baseball has been and, of course, I love October baseball for its own self, completely separate from the regular season. But September and October mean that November is not far behind and November means the beginning of the long countdown to April and I’m really not ready for that yet, so there.
What’s that you say? Therapy?! Pshaw! Whatever for? I say the only solution is to go to as many games as I can during the Angels last regular season home stand. (Which begins tonight. *sob*) Now, that’s my idea of therapy and, lucky me, my “sessions” begin with seats tonight!!
Eleven wins in the last twelve games. Three sweeps and a series win. Moving ahead in the AL Wild Card race game by game by game. Back. To. Back. Sweeps!! The season’s end results may still officially be one great big question mark but, oh my lord, is it ever fun to be an Angels fan right now!! The guys are just on fire. The games are exciting and hard fought on both sides…and they actually mean something. I mean, Friday’s game against the Tigers alone was everything I think September baseball should be.
The best part of the whole thing is…well, let’s be honest here. The best part from my perspective is the Angels. But almost as wonderful as that best part is the fact that, with both leagues’ Wild Card races running hot and heavy, there are a lot of fan bases enjoying their September every bit as much as I am and there is a lot of great baseball out there for the enjoyment of all. I have to say, if this is what September’s going to look like from here on out, my journey towards acceptance of the new playoffs format isn’t going to be a very long one at all.
Soooooooo, long time no blog. And, thus, we have much to discuss…
Jered Weaver’s Tendonitis
On the one hand, it’s hard to lose Jered Weaver in the rotation at this point in the season and no injury news is ever welcome…except…well, I have to admit that I was actually quite relieved to hear about the tendonitis. It means that the trainers have identified a clear and fixable reason why Weaver’s been having so many troubles in his last few starts. Because, seriously, I was starting to worry that somehow…you know what? Let’s just not even go there, actually. Suffice to say, while I wasn’t panicking or anything yet, I was starting to get a little worried. Now, I’m just hoping Weaver and the staff balance the team’s needs appropriately with his body’s needs so that, when he does return, he is as fit and well as any pitcher ever can be come September…and October because it’s going to happen this year. I can feel it!
And, in the meantime, kudos to the rest of the rotation and to the bullpen for kicking ass and taking names! …even if it has involved occasional indulgences in fan torture. Hey, we’re supposed to elevate our heart rates for at least a half hour a day, right?
Albert Pujols and Kendrys Morales
I swear, as each season rolls to the end, the race to secure a playoff berth becomes as much a game of chicken with the lurking specter of player injuries as it is a competition with the other teams. Sadly, the Angels have flinched a few times already and a couple of players are fighting injuries. Albert Pujols’ strained calf had as much potential for disaster as Weaver tendonitis but, thanks to all parties involved, the team is rolling with this punch as well. Even if running the bases looks painful, Pujols has gamely taken over the primary DH role for the time being and is just raking at the plate, and all with a huge smile on his face and plenty of encouragement for the whole team on his lips. I was always a fan, but now it’s safe to say I’m a huge fan!
And as for the other half of this equation, Kendrys Morales temporarily resumed his old role at first base so Pujols could rehab the calf. At first I wondered how this was going to work. Kendrys has played first here and there throughout the season and it is clear that he can still move and make some pretty tricky plays. But day in and day out? On that ankle? Nearly two weeks later, Kendrys is still working out just fine at first and he also continues to absolutely pound the ball. Seriously, this weekend was as much the Kendrys show as it was the Trout show. Among his many contributions, on Friday the man hit a legit triple. Yes, on that ankle. ‘Nuff said.
Except…if you want to read a little bit more about Kendrys, my latest LA Angels Insider piece is about the accident and his recovery season. Check it out if you get the chance.
Oh yeah, and Then There’s that Trout Kid…
Mike Trout. Can anyone ever praise this young man enough? I know I can’t, but that won’t stop me from trying. He’s actually going through a bit of a rough patch right now but that still means crucial hits, scoring important runs, back to back leadoff homeruns, leaping and diving plays in center, oh, and a walk off robbed homerun. Yeah, you read that right, a walk off robbed homerun. He began Saturday night’s game by putting the Angels on the board with a leadoff homerun and finished it by robbing Prince Fielder of a home run for the final out, thus earning the Captain Morgan pose salute from Torii Hunter — I don’t know when exactly the guys started this bit of fantastic silliness, but I sure hope it continues.
Watching Trout play baseball is like watching all of the stories I have heard about the Golden Age of baseball come alive before my eyes. And to think, he’s still maturing as a player. I don’t think I can fully wrap my brain around what that might mean for future seasons, but I am thrilled at thought of spending them in a more or less perpetual state of dropped jaw. (Some mother, somewhere: If you don’t close your mouth and stop making that face, your face is going to freeze in that silly shocked expression forever! Angels Fan: As long as I get to keep watching Trouty play, Mom, I don’t care!)
Suffice to say that right now the Angels destiny is firmly in their own hands and those hands – along with their bats, gloves, arms and legs — are looking strong, steady and capable of great things.
So, don’t look now but after a home stand that can best be described with adjectives such as embarrassing, depressing and maddening (and that’s only if one has accepted the challenge of trying to describe it without resorting to profanity) the Angels are looking pretty good again, sweeping the Red Sox at Fenway and starting their battle with Detroit on the right foot. Did they need to get out of town? Did someone finally say just the right thing in a closed door meeting? Are there life sized cut outs of the MLBN analysts who’ve written the Angels off lurking somewhere in the clubhouse with “You Guys Stink!!” voice bubbles and sectioned, peel away suits and ties? Whatever it is (and if it’s that last item, pray that no one decides to tweet photos. *shudders*) I don’t care just so long as they keep playing to win, and hopefully continuing to smooth over a few still rough edges as they go.
Ervin Santana, Jered Weaver and Zack Greinke all looked like more like themselves again (in Santana’s case, it was his Dr. Ervin self, thankfully ). Sadly, so did C.J. Wilson – his post All Star Game Break self that is. He’s got to find a way to deal with that and he’s a smart guy so I still have hope, if not for this season than for next. But the offense picked Wilson up like a good offense should and, in truth, has looked great this whole road trip so far. As for the Bullpen…well…they’re trying. Yes, I know, sometimes very. But other times they’ve been stellar. I still feel like we’re in a “roll a pair of D-10s to see if the bullpen self destructs” kind of situation each time a new reliever comes out, but as more of the rolls, so to speak, come up positive so, more and more frequently, does my attitude each time they take the mound. Keep it up guys, it’s certainly no longer “a long season” be there’s still just enough season left to make a real go of it!
And now for something completely different, we pause for a brief steroid rant…
So, let me get this straight Bartolo Colon. You decide to get stem cell therapy to rejuvenate your arm, a therapy so new and unorthodox that MLB officials are all over it, studying the procedure and checking out the doctors, to make sure it doesn’t involve anything that is against the rules. And you have to know that between the new therapy itself, your amazing displays of youthful prowess on the mound and the fact that you keep touting the therapy, MLB will be watching you like a hawk. I would assume there were even extra mandatory drug tests involved but even if they were just the usual number of drug tests, in the middle of all of this you decide that taking outlawed Performance Enhancing Drugs is a smart thing to do?? *facepalm*
Is it just me or does anyone else feel like at this point in our story Rosencrantz and Guildenstern should be piping up with confused, questioning looks and a hearty “it slipped in”? Nah. That would make the “logic” Bartolo applied in arriving at this bonehead decision sound too intelligent. So I’m just going to go back to my original pronouncement over Twitter: Dumbass! And don’t even get me started on Melky Cabrera and his “associate”. A fake website to prove that the PEDs you took could have been taken accidentally? Only if former U.S. Senator Ted Stevens, he of the imfamous series of tubes, was in charge of the investigation would this have stood a chance in hell of working. But even then an intern or, you know, a child with a few minutes of time on their hands, probably would have figured it out. So, I say thee Dumbass again.
Gentlemen, an old friend has a saying that I particularly like. “If you can’t be good, be good at it.” Now, when it comes to steroid use, I strongly believe that you should be good and just not take the junk in the first place. However, once you’ve made the, at least in this case misguided, decision not to be good, could you at least try to be smarter about how you go about doing it?! Because this level of dumb crime would have been rejected by the Scooby Doo staff writers as too unbelievably stupid for the kiddies to buy.