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Written by Mike Mariano
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Wednesday, 25 August 2010 10:40 |
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16 innings of madness. The Phillies 4-2 loss last night took over 5 hours and saw all kinds of a wild things by its finish.
Ryan Howard lost his shit and was ejected in the 14th inning.
Roy Oswalt played two innings of left field: making a play on a fly ball and coming to the plate with the game on the line.
Hamels threw well (only allowing two ER) but didn't get the win, again.
The Phillies had their regular starting eight in the lineup for the first time since May 21, vs. Boston.
Jimmy Rollins hit a home run in the bottom of the ninth to send the game into extra innings to begin with.
At the end of the game, the Phillies just couldn't find a way to win. It was fitting that since Oswalt had to come into the game for Ryan Howard (because of a depleted bench) he would come to the plate in the bottom of the 16th with two on and two out. Astros manager Brad Mills walked Utley to bring Oswalt (the winning run) to the plate. In the end he was right and Oswalt harmlessly grounded out to end the game.
As for the Ryan Howard check-swing-strike-three-explosion, it's rare to see the big man that fired up. You could see him saying, "don't fuckin' talk to me" and he had arms swinging and spit flying the whole time. As you'd expect it took more than one guy to keep him from bashing the third base umps skull in. And why wouldn't he be heated? He went 0-7 with 5 STRIKEOUTS! There isn't even a funny hat name for that many K's. Three is the hat trick, four is the golden sombrero, and five is the platinum sobrero or something like that. If I pulled off an 0-7 platinum sobrero I'd most likely pull this move.
Here are some good clubhouse quotes from the game:
“I’ve seen him mad, but never upset like that,” Manuel on Ryan Howard's ejection.
“I’m not sure what I think about the whole situation, I think I’ll take a nap, wake up refreshed and pretend the whole think didn’t happen.” Werth on the game.
“There’s a saying in baseball, the ball will find you when you’re out of position,” said Ibanez, who also recorded a putout on a diving play at first base. “The ball found him and he caught it.” on Oswalt out in left field.
“I had visions of an out,” Mills said. “I had no visions of a hit.” of Oswalt hitting in the sixteenth.
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Written by Gino Ferretti
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Friday, 20 August 2010 08:39 |
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Follow me on Twitter: @WooderCooler
In the past 30 days, there hasn't been a hotter hitting NL team than the Phillies . Their combined .281 batting average is second to only the Minnesota Twins for best in all of baseball. But between the onslaught of clutch hitting and the dominance of their 19-6 record in their last 25 games, the Phillies have been bad. Bad in the eyes of one man who has pitched hard and long while his supporting cast of offensive sultan's have come up limp and short for him.
In his last 8 starts, Cole Hamels is 1-3 with a 1.87 ERA. He's given up 13 walks and has struck out 58 batters in 54.2 innings. 4 of those starts have been no decisions. He's gone 7+ innings in 6 of those 8 starts. So what gives? That is the question that has been tossed around the Philly sports nation for the past month as each flawless start and opportunistic scoring chances have been wasted by first pitch swinging, double play hitting, and clueless base running. Despite what he says, you can see it in Cole's gaze from the dugout. The tired stare. The gloom. The feeling of inadequacy. The feeling of depreciation. Roy Halladay and new comer Roy Oswalt have been supported by a string of inflated leads which have allowed 8 complete games for Halladay. For Oswalt, he's received 16 runs in 4 games and bulked up his record to 3-1 since coming over to the Phillies from the Astros one day before the trade deadline. For Oswalt, one of the lustful traits of the Phillies was run support. The same run support he didn't get in Houston. The same run support Cole Hamels doesn't get in Philly. But he's not really concerned about it. To Hollywood Hamels, it's all red carpets and gnarly waves.
"I haven't really followed the wins and losses. I just try to completely blank that out"*
Last night he was pulled after the 5th inning of the teams 8-2 loss where again the offense didn't support, or in this case, help him vs. the underachieving Giants hitters. In fact, the 2 runs the Phillies did manufacture weren't until the top of the 9th inning, when Cole was already bench ridden. Since August 1st, the Phillies have scratched Hamels' gems with only 2 runs. The opposition? Before last night, his last two starts were 1-0 losses. For a team that's been resilient in their pursuit of a third consecutive Red October, one cant help but think that Hamels has to be green with disgust. During the off season when Cole Hamels sits down and ponders a Christmas list for his teammates, what is he to get a batting order full of naughty hitters when they've already gotten all the Cole they can get?
But maybe he feels this is just another chapter in the life of the pitcher. He's certainly not alone in the dissection of baseball's best pitchers who have had lost seasons. Oakland A's pitcher Brian Kingman lost a whopping 12 out of his last 15 starts of the 1980 season en route to a league leading 20 losses despite striking out 113 and pitching 10 complete games. In 1987 Houston Astros ace Nolan Ryan struck out an MLB best 270 batters and had an MLB leading .276 ERA despite losing 16 games and piecing together only 8 wins. Somewhere along the line every pitcher has a down season. But most of the time the good ones strive and the bad ones self destruct. In the rare case of Cole Hamels though, part of being great may mean having to have a season where greatness is overshadowed simply by a lack of support. There was no Ike without Tina. No Sonny without Cher. And certainly, no Cole without runs.
After spending last year under fire for his lack of pitch location and easily rattled composure, he's now being reprimanded for having a too laid back composure as he's said virtually nothing in bitterness or disappointment toward his team. Maybe it's good to be mature enough to bite down on your tongue and go back to your hotel room and punch pillows. At least it's in private. At least it doesn't ruffle the feathers of your teammates and cause rumor mills to print in fervor. But don't think for one second that Cole Hamels forgets. As the 2010 season winds down, he will be working on a list and checking it twice. Not the Christmas list, but another type of list. A more personal list. With each remaining start, that list will eat itself fat. Or starve itself thin. Either way, no one wants to be on this list. That list rhymes with one of the key words to jump starting this limp offense: Hit.
* Quote courtesy of CSNPHILLY'S John Finger
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Written by Gino Ferretti
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Tuesday, 17 August 2010 21:49 |
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Follow me on Twitter @WooderCooler
He could walk into the Irish Pub on Walnut St. and impregnate every female occupant with a wink and a smile. He was drafted by the heralded Boston Red Sox, and with a chance to play in the outfield with Otis-fuckin-Nixon , he refused. Not even the Bo Sox were good enough. The University of Miami got their reputation and swagger from his illustrious good looks and his ability to get into more vagina's than Kotex. When he made it to the big leagues, he had a nickname fit for a sultan of swat. The Bat. That's it. THE BAT! He called Billy Wagner "a rat". To his face. Where I'm from, if you have a conflict with a guy named "The Bat", and he calls you a rat, you better get accustomed to sleeping with fishes. Men wanted to be him. Women wanted him to be in them. And until he was granted free agency at the end of the WFC season, he was my favorite current Phillie. Pat Burrell returned to Citizen's Bank Park tonight with his new team, the Giants. And I'm sure he's going to feel twenty feet tall as the cheers and praise rain down on him with hurricane force. Pat Burrell's favorite beer may not be Dos Equis, but to me, he's the most interesting man in the world. But I really remember Pat Burrell in a less flattering way.
Toward the end of the 2007 baseball season, I took a job in Pittsburgh. And as I settled in, I carried my Philly pride all around my new city. People got to know me. The way I talked. The accent. The Flyers jersey that got cursed at more times than a cheating spouse. My drunken and obnoxious E-A-G-L-E-S chants during Steelers/Eagles preseason games. I was the guy everyone in Pittsburgh loved to hate. Because not only was I the enemy, I hated Sidney Crosby. And in Pittsburgh, you can hate Jesus, but you dare not take the Wizard Of Cros' name in vain. However the people were friendly and the women were plenty, so in time, I fit in. I met a girl who's father was a socialite in the area who had more connections than a South Philly kid named Joey. So naturally I reaped the benefits of her fathers left field, front row Pirates tickets. My first invite was to see my Phillies play in late April of the 2008 season. PNC Park had always looked beautiful from the river, so I was excited for a chance to see my team, out of Philly, for the first time in my life. But most importantly, I was going to be sitting right behind The Bat.
The night before the game, I had an idea for a sign I wanted to make. I called Steph to tell her I wanted to bring a sign. But I couldn't tell her what it said because I wanted it to be a surprise. Because we had only been hanging out for six months, I could hear the worry in her voice. But i reassured her that I had no plans of asking her to marry me. The next day as we arrived at PNC Park, sign tucked under a tight arm, I realized how popular she was. Apparently she's been coming to these games almost daily since the place opened in 2001. Along with her father's reputation, we were granted exclusive entrance to our seats.
My sign was never inspected.
Once we made it to our seats, I began coaching her on who everyone in the Phillies' line up was. And why Chase Utley was playing first base that night. And why Ryan Howard was not in the line up. But really, it was all about Pat and his team leading .354 average. I told her everything about Pat. How in the season before he hit four HR's in a four game series vs. The Mets. And how he's my favorite because I despise the Mets, and at that point, he led all active players in HR's vs. that choking team from NY. So she started referring to him as Big Bat Pat. And although I forgot to tell her his wonderful nickname, I went along with it.
After Chris Coste doubled home Jayson Werth and Chase Utley in the top of the first, Pat made his pimp jog out to left field for the first time. Just as he got close enough to where I was in clear and present sight, I held up the sign.
"Pat The Bat: Will you fuck my girlfriend?"
Just as Burrell looked up after Jayson Werth in CF brought it to his attention, Steph leaped up to read my sign. As quick as Pat showed a faint smile, I was covered in Iron City Light. As she stormed off, I made no attempt to chase after her. Embarrassment dripped down my head as the beer reached my lips. All I could do was lick them. But to be honest, it tasted good. It was the taste of victory. Pat The Bat's reaction was well worth the beer now reeking his jersey I wore. Oh well, at least the Phils were winning.
After a few phone calls the next day, I finally reached through to Steph and explained myself. We were clearly done because not only was her reputation disrespected, she felt I had more of a crush on Pat Burrell than her. The balls on this woman. And for an hour she bashed me and compared me to a 14 year old boy with a baseball card collection and a player obsession. Whatever. She didn't give blow jobs anyway.
As the rest of that magical season played out and Brad Lidge dropped to his knees as Chooch jumped into his arms, I was glad to have seen my world champion baseball team, even if it was only once that season. I was one of the many who was crushed when no deal was made to retain Burrell after the 2008 season. Why break up a good thing? But apparently the Phillies didn't have my heart in mind. While I wait for the Phillies to retire the number 5, I already have done it in his honor by not wearing his jersey since the end of that championship season. It's only fair. Mike Sweeney. Mark Weeney. There's only one Pat the Bat. Shame on any of you who think otherwise.
After a stint as a DH in Tampa Bay, and a brief stop in the minors, Pat Burrell was called up by the Giants this past June 4th. Ironically, on June 5th, The Giants were making a stop at PNC Park for a three game series. I had to go. Anybody who knows anything about Pittsburgh and Pirates baseball knows that tickets to games are easier to catch than a cold. So me and three of my buddies lined up four tickets to the game. Left field of course. In my Phillies hat and Pat Burrell Phillies shirsey, I gave him a standing ovation as spectators booed me and asked me if I was high. After all I was in Phillies gear at a Pirates game cheering for the Giants left fielder. Fuck them. It was Pat. Big Bat Pat! In between the 6th inning, I noticed a girl walking up the stairs from a handful of rows down. It was Steph. I called out her name, and with a smile she greeted me with a hug. It had been two years since I saw her, so we caught up a bit. The hatchet was buried between us. She told me she was there with her girlfriends enjoying the game and told me her friend Joanna was there to see Ryan Howard play. According to her story, Joanna was Ryan Howard's sex toy in Pittsburgh, and every time he came to town, they hooked up. Typical groupie story, so it wasn't of much interest to me, but funny nonetheless. Steph went on to tell me she met Pat Burrell and Ryan Howard last August when the Phillies were out in Pittsburgh last. She met Pat The Bat? I couldn't believe it! I asked all sorts of questions. Is he nice. Does he smell good. Did he attract a lot of girls. Does he drink Dos Equis. She answered my questions to the best of her knowledge although you could tell she was uncomfortable.
"Well I gotta get back, it was nice seeing you again." She said as she came toward me for a hug.
"Yeah, you too. Have fun tonight." I said.
She took three more steps up, turned around and yelled
"Hey, I know why they call him 'The Bat', now...'The Big Bat' to be specific."
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Written by Mike Mariano
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Monday, 16 August 2010 16:10 |
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NEW YORK -- Kyle Kendrick helped ensure that the New York Mets' miserable week ended with a whimper.
I don't know how I could have written it better than that... When Kyle Kendrick shuts you down it's an unquestionable kick to the junk, not to mention the fact that the Mets are now a full ten games back and stumbling since the All-Star break.
Pelfrey didn't throw poorly, but the Mets offense only managed six hits the whole day. If it wasn't for Jose Reyes' third inning lead-off home run they wouldn't have had any offense to speak of. Kendrick went 6.2, Pelfrey 7. After Kendrick, the bullpen combined for 2.1 hitless, shut-out innings. Even Brad Lidge only needed nine pitches to get three outs, that's how you know your offense is struggling.
The Phillies found offense largely from top to bottom. Rollins and Victorino combined for four hits and three stolen bases in the 1 & 2 to set the tone for the day. Werth had a triple, and Ruiz had another fine day of his own.
The Phillies now tie the season series 6-6 with two straight series wins against the Mets and remain in a hot division and wild card race. The Mets on the other hand remain struggling and looking for answers. |
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