Author: Levi Stahl

Lost weekend

Well, as you might have suspected, it was a sad weekend at the old ballpark for me, though not for 120,000 Cubs fans, puffed up with the arrogance that two playoff appearances in five years can bring.

Somehow, the Cardinals and Cubs managed to play three games in three days with no rain delays, despite strong thunderstorms and heavy rain all weekend. And somehow, the Cardinals managed to turn Glendon Rusch into the pitcher who pitched pretty well for the Mets in 2000, rather than the pitcher who was cut from the Brewers earlier this year. And the Cardinals managed three runs on only three hits against the remarkably good Matt Clement. Impressive, but it wasn’t enough. So despair reigns, at least for a few days.

But there was one fully redeeming moment for me–a moment that was a huge highlight even for my Clement-fan wife and for Cubs-fan Luke–in Sunday night’s game. The Cardinals were down 4-1, and with Albert Pujols at the plate, a chant arose. It began oddly–almost as if it had been planned in advance–with what seemed a whole section above and behind us shouting “Pujols sucks!” without any of the slow build that such chants usually require.

So as the first pitch comes in as a ball, the chant grows until most of the stadium is into it. “Pujols sucks! Pujols sucks! Pujols sucks!” The next pitch came in, and then it went out. And it kept going out, onto Waveland, or maybe Irving Park Road. The crowd fell silent, except for those of us who were giggling.

Wendell Berry, in a story I read Saturday, described a driver showing “the extended middle finger that contradicts all contradiction.” It’s hard to imagine a way in which Pujols could have more clearly demonstrated that he manifestly does not suck. Maybe if he had hit that home run, then taken the mound the next inning and set down the Cubs in order with three strikeouts on nine pitches. But that’s asking a lot even of Pujols.

Original comments…

Luke: Who you calling arrogant? I should point out, Levi, that I cheered Pujols’ home run almost as much as you did. It was more than worth giving up the run to see him shut the fans up.

Every time I get to Wrigley I’m more dismayed by the boorishness of the fans. I don’t know whether I’m getting older and crankier or they’re getting more boorish, or both. My money is on “both.”

Levi: No, no, Luke. I’m not calling you out on that–in fact, I mentioned that you seemed to enjoy the moment. I know your fandom doesn’t allow for absurd slander.

And I’m not saying Cardinals fans are perfect. I’m sure plenty of them are complete tools. But I haven’t ever heard a chant like that one at Busch Stadium, and I’m not used to hearing the regular booing that the opposing team’s best player has frequently been getting at Wrigley Field lately.

Jim: Glendon Rusch was already turned into a good pitcher by the Padres a week ago Sunday. Opposing pitcher David Wells was so distraught about the situation that he went home, threw a bottle against the wall, and ended up cutting himself on the broken glass (or at least that’s what I assume happened).

Does Barry Bonds get booed at Busch?

Levi: I haven’t seen Bonds play at Busch, so I don’t know. I don’t think he does, but I could be wrong.

And the Wells story was great because the story in the San Diego paper about his injury actually included, in the subhead, “Padres GM believes Wells’s account.” Imagine being viewed as so untrustworthy that your believablity merits mention in a headline.

Luke, hanger-on: Sorry, Levi, I scanned past that. Didn’t mean to slanderously accuse you of slanderously accusing me of absurdly slandering Pujols, the second-best player in baseball. (Though, admittedly, I have in the past slandered his funny name, stonethrowing-in-a-glass-house notwithstanding.)

sandor: I tuned in for a little of the game (it was one of those rare times when my cable company decided to give me free ESPN), though I missed the impressive first inning rally. But how about that weather system? That must have been impressive to see from the stadium. When they came back from a commercial break early on, the cameraman was pulling pack to show the bizarrely shaped cloud formations out in the distance. It was so striking that Sarah and I felt compelled to take a walk around the neighborhood and witness it ourselves. I figured I’d the be the only person intrigued enough in clouds to notice, but no, everyone we passed was looking up in amazement.

thatbob: Re: strange clouds and weather systems. I haven’t even told you all about the ghost boat.

Levi: According to people who watched the game at home, Pujols made a shushing motion sometime after the home run. I’m unclear on whether it was during the trot or after crossing the plate. It’s the sort of thing that would ordinarily get you knocked on your ass the next time up, but in this case, I think even the opposing pitcher would understand.

What a gal!

The folks at Redbird Nation, the best Cardinals site on the internet, noticed that in an interview with Esquire this month, Emmylou Harris had this to say:

“During those long summer tours, there’s nothing on television that doesn’t rot your brain except for baseball. And I love the game. I love the history of the game. I love that fact that anything can happen but probably won’t. But sometimes does. I love that you don’t have to be a perfect human specimen to be a good player; you can be overweight, you can be too short, too skinny. Let’s just say I’m a National League girl, because I don’t belive in the designated hitter. And you can quote me on that.”

Original comments:

sandor: In the documentary Down from the Mountain — the film of the concert of the music of the movie “O Brother, Where Art Thou?” — one of the most smile-inducing moments is when they show Emmylou Harris in her dressing room, being rushed out to the stage, furiously digging through her purse to find her wireless baseball score receiver so she can check on the status of the day’s games.

thatbob: The days games. Plural. That’s heartening. I was afraid that, as a southerner, she might just be some kind of Braves fan.

Jason: Basbeall? What’s that?

Jim: There is no such thing as basbeall. There was never a typo in Levi’s post. We have always been at war with Oceania.

Oh, say can you see?

As Jim and I are always saying to each other, here at Baseball-Related Program Activites 2004, we’re nothing if not a family site. We’re like those sportswriters who are always lamenting about ballplayers not signing autographs or building childrens’ hospitals or fighting crime. We want the whole family involved in the game. We’re even thinking of making our site play the Baha Men.

So when my friend Jon Solomon sent me a photo of Dodgers pitcher Jose Lima singing “The Star-Spangled Banner” at Dodger Stadium last week, his wife and son by his side, I thought, “This little bit of Lima Time is perfect for Baseball-Related Program Activities 2004! A patriotic family photo!”

Then I looked at the photo. And I have to admit that it took me a moment to focus on Francis Scott Key’s view of the battle for Fort McHenry. After a few minutes, I decided that the people who run the site the photo was located on weren’t including it because of Jose’s singing or their love of country. Nor was that the case on another site, on which there’s even a rude poll relating to one aspect (two aspects?) of the photo.

But I want you all to be clear that, as we are a family site, I bring this photo to your attention for the same reason that I’m sure Jon brought it to mine: we think it’s pretty cool that Jose Lima got to sing “The Star-Spangled Banner.”

Here at Baseball-Related Program Activities 2004, we–we take the road less traveled by. For the kids.

Original comments…

Levi: Oh, and last night, the woman who sang the National Anthem at Wrigley Field sang “For the ramparts we watched.” I guess that’s the opium-addled version, where the ramparts are streaming.

Jim: I’m not sure if Pax TV deserves to be the link for “a family site.” Their Tampa affiliate is the broadcast home of the Devil Rays. (Yes, the Devil Rays really are bad enough that independent station “More TV 32” — the equivalent of Channel 26, “The U,” in Chicago — which broadcast their games for the first few years didn’t want to renew the broadcast rights, and apparently, nobody else wanted them either.)

toby: Just more proof–as I once discussed with Levi a long time ago–that EVERY single pro baseball player has a gorgeous wife. Do you remember Zane Smith of the Expos/Braves/Pirates.. Even he had a hot wife.

Levi: Jim reports that the phrase “Jose Lima’s wife” has now passed “Johnny Damon’s hair and beard” as the most common Google search that has led people to our site. I should have seen that coming.

Anonymous: Jim is correct

The Big Unit

Last night was one of those rare occasions when I was glad The Superstation exists, because when the Cubs’ announcers mentioned that the Unit had a perfect game through 8, we were able to switch over and watch the 9th.

The Unit was throwing as well as I’ve ever seen. He looked a little sweaty, but not tired.

With one out to go, he stepped off the mound and kind of composed himself, and Skip Carey said, “Johnson holds a little team meeting with himself.”

With two outs to go, the Braves home crowd stood, cheering for Johnson to get the last out. But Stacey noticed at least one guy wearing a rally cap. Her thought: only a Braves fan would attempt to root for both a perfect game against his team and a rally for his team at the same time.

Then Johnson struck out the last hitter, and his catcher, Robby Hammock, leaped into the air, high, several times while the Unit smiled. That was the best part, I think, seeing the Unit smile. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen that.

And seeing his teammates touch his hair. I know I’ve never seen that.

So congratulations to the Big Unit, one of my very favorite players. Couldn’t have done it to a better team.

Original comments…

Jon Solomon: Thankfully they made similar mention during the NBA playoffs (or was it the Mets game on MSG?) that Johnson was perfect through seven, so my Dad and I were able to switch over and watch it together.

sandor: My friend Jason was at the Yankee/Red Sox game a few years ago when Mike Mussina pitched 8 2/3 innings of perfect ball, only to have it ruined with a hit by ugly ducking Carl Everett. He said the entire Fenway crowd was on its feet, as Atlanta’s was here, but not to cheer on the pitcher about to make history; he said they were still rooting for their Sox to break it up. Even with Everett, who pretty much everyone in Boston hated, at the plate. Which I guess makes sense, if you’re the Red Sox and you’re about to be put in the history books for the wrong reason, thanks to those bastard Yankees.

I tried to console him (Jason, not Mussina) by explaining he probably witnessed a rarer feat: “Sure, a perfect game is rare, but isn’t a pitcher going perfect for only 8 2/3 innings only to have it broken up on the last out is even rarer!” (I don’t actually know if this is true, but I imagine so.) Anyway, he wasn’t consoled.

Levi: I will go to my grave believing that the reason Jim and I didn’t see Frank Castillo throw a no-hitter against the Cardinals on September 25, 1995 is that, with two outs in the 9th, I cheered for Castillo to retire Bernard Gilkey.

The god repaid my breaking faith with the Cardinals by allowing Gilkey to hit a triple into the right-field corner.

Never again will I root against the Cardinals for any reason in any situation. Sorry about that, Jim.

thatbob: The Unit isn’t as fat as I’d like, but he sure is ugly! And I’m a big fan of anything that strikes out Braves. Go Big Unit!

Levi: Re: my post above. That should read “The gods.” I’m nothing if not a polytheist. Well, except for an athiest, that is.

Jim: Well, “the god” is probably appropriate if you’re a polytheist, because there is probably one specific god of Punishing Levi for Rooting Against the Cardinals. Obviously, he doesn’t have as many responsibilities as, say, Zeus, so when he gets a chance to do his thing, he’s going to take it.

Jason: PLRAC? (pronounced pul-rak)

Levi: My coworker, Jim, says, “Maybe touching the Unit’s hair is like touching a snake’s skin. You know, you expect it to be all slimy, but it’s really cool and dry.”

Secho: I was in the pressbox at Shea Stadium scoring the Mets-Cards game during the perfect game hubbub. I happen to sit right in the middle of several members of the Japanese media, who were unfazed by reports of the Unit’s perfection through 8, but outraged when Colin Porter was sent to pinch hit for So Taguchi in the top of the 9th. Taguchi had entered the game in a double-switch in the bottom of the 8th, an inning after 74-year-old Ray Lankford butchered a can of corn in left.

Anyway, the point: Longtime Met and Yankee official scorer Bill Shannon was sitting nearby, recounting every no-hitter he remembered in New York, and recalling who the official scorer was for each off the top of his head. It was unbelievable, hearing him talk about Larsen’s game in ’56. He noted there were 3 official scorers that day, as there are in World Series games, and tossed their names off as if he’d seen them yesterday, and then talked about a couple of pitches Larsen got away with in that game: “He threw a 2-2 hanging slider, but it was fouled back.” How does he remember this stuff? I don’t even remember most of Game 7 of the NLCS last year.

Levi: My memories of last year’s NLCS game 7 are clouded with despair.

I think that’s how you know the Cubs are only my backup team. If they were my real team, the despair would only bring the events into ever-clearer focus. Leading to more despair.

toby: Do I detect a bit of Braves-hating in that entry, Leviticus? I hope so.
A loyal Pirate fan

Francisco Cabrerra is the devil.

Anonymous: It could be worse, you could be a red sox fan

Better than goose eggs

Cardinals farmhand Brad Thompson of the Tennesse Smokies threw six shutout innings on Friday night, running his string of scoreless innings to 52, two short of the minor-league record.

The local Krispy Kreme franchise in Sevierville has promised Thompson free donuts for life if he breaks the record.

That’s got to be better than whatever major-league-consecutive-shutout-innnings-record-holder Orel Hershiser got for announcing his intention to attend a theme park in the aftermath of the Dodgers’ World Series victory in 1988.

Original comments…

Levi: And I forgot to mention the next-best thing about this story: the holder of the record is Urban Shocker, regular denizen of the upper-reaches of lists of the best baseball names.

Steve: I hope he gets the record because as far as I’m concerned baseball can’t have enough fat pitchers.

thatbob: Say, isn’t it about time you guys got represented at http://www.chicagobloggers.com/, which cross-references area bloggers by CTA and Metra stop?

Jason: The local Krispy Kreme doughnut flavor of the week (or month, I forget which) is Strawberry Shortcake. I highly recommend purchasing a few if available in your area.

Jason: I also used to have a Smokies hat back when they were the Knoxville Smokies. I even purchased it in Evanston at some corner sports apparel shop that might not even be around anymore.

Best at-bat ever?

Around here, and around the Internet, all the news from Wednesday’s Cubs-Dodgers game was about Alex Cora’s at-bat.

For those of you who missed it, here’s the pitch-by-pitch.

Pitch 1 – Ball
Pitch 2 – Called Strike
Pitch 3 – Ball
Pitch 4 – Foul
Pitch 5 – Foul
Pitch 6 – Foul
Pitch 7 – Foul
Pitch 8 – Foul
Pitch 9 – Foul
Pitch 10 – Foul
Pitch 11 – Foul
Pitch 12 – Foul
Pitch 13 – Foul
Pitch 14 – Foul
Pitch 15 – Foul
Pitch 16 – Foul
Pitch 17 – Foul
Pitch 18 – Home run to right field. Jason Grabowski and Alex Cora score

Because I had just watched the Cardinals game and had to get up at 5:45 the next morning to get to work early, I went to bed just before that inning. Stacey came into the bedroom early in Cora’s at-bat to inform me that Cubs announcer Pat Hughes had said, “For those of you just returning from a brief vacation, Alex Cora is still at bat.”

Much later–or so it seemed to my sleep-addled brain–she returned to tell me that Cora had fouled off fourteen pitches. Soon after, she sadly delivered the news of his home run. But even though she’s a Matt Clement fan and was sad to see him lose the battle, she was willing to concede that it was pretty impressive.

Two other notes:

1. Is Matt Morris trying to take up Johnny Damon’s slack? Check out this photo. It’s not there yet, but he’s on his way to turning his hideous chin friend into a real beard.

2. The comment by Pat Hughes reminds me of two great baseball radio moments I’ve been meaning to share with you. One is a great bit of description by Cardinals announcer Mike Shannon. Describing Matt Morris pulling up short to stop at third base, he said, “He stopped so short that if he’d been a train, he would have jackknifed the last half-dozen cars.”

The second is from a discussion Ron Santo and Pat Hughes were having the other day at Wrigley. It was chilly and windy, but Pat, expecting better weather, had decided to have the crew take out the window panes that protect the announcers from the elements. Ron was on his case about it, complaining that after so many years at Wrigley, surely he knew better than to take out the windows in May. Pat peppered Ron with questions like, “So, Ron, would you say it’s a pain to have these windows out?” and “So, Ron, would you say that it’s an open-and-shut case?” Ron continued his rant, oblivious to the joking.

Original comments…

Levi: Baseball Prospectus has a good point about Damon’s beard: he missed a chance to raise much more money for charity. He should have set up two accounts, one for keeping the beard, one for shaving it, and asked for donations to each. The one with most donations decides the fate of the greatest beard of the decade.

stacey: levi, what is the point is saying i’m a matt clement fan without linking to a photo of him? he steals my heart with his super pitching, tall socks, and super cuteness!

Luke: The at-bat reminded me of Matt Williams’ great at-bat in the 1989 NLCS against the Cubs, although it was only eight foul balls. Here’s an interesting write-up about it (scroll down to “Foul ball!”).

“According to research by STATS Inc., each foul ball shifts the balance in favor of the batter. After Williams’s fifth foul, he was the favorite over Wilson. Why? Physically, the more pitches a batter sees, the better he can adjust to movement and velocity, and therefore time his swing. There is also the psychological toll on the pitcher to consider.”

There’s also some talk of the precision foul ball, like the scene in “The Natural” where Hobbs tries to snipe the photographer when he’s taking BP after his injury.

“The carefully aimed foul ball is a rare but potent weapon, as Richie Ashburn once discovered. The Phillies outfielder was one of the best ever at repeatedly fouling balls off to frustrate and overwork pitchers, skilled enough to lead the league four times in on-base percentage. There came a day, however, when one of Ashburn’s teammates called upon him to fine-tune his fouling skills. The teammate, who was angry at his wife, implored Ashburn to hit the ball at his wife, sitting in the left-field stands. Ashburn forgot about it until he happened to spray some fouls in that general area. When his teammate yelled from the bench, “two seats over, one row back and you’ve got her,” Ashburn hit the next ball elsewhere, drawing the line at assault.

“Ted Williams, in My Turn At Bat, confessed to an occasion when he didn’t draw such a line. Maddened by one of his chronic Fenway Park hecklers, Williams tried to hit the critic with a foul ball. Since the fan sat behind third base, Williams had to go literally out of his way in his attempt, eschewing his pull-hitting instincts to aim left for several swings. He didn’t hit his target, but he probably made his point.

“…

“Any discussion of foul balls must celebrate Luke Appling, the Michelangelo of the mis-hit. Appling once deliberately fouled two dozen balls into the stands to get even with his own ballclub’s failure to provide free passes for a couple of his friends. Another time, he aimed at a peanut vendor who had laughed when a fan was struck by Appling’s previous foul. “I’ll fix him,” Appling declared, then nailed him in the head; the vendor had to be carried out.”

There are worse claims to fame than to be the “Michelangelo of the mis-hit.”

Steve: So…ah….um….ah….who …uh…will join me in my…uh…loathing of Ron Santo? It seems that…ah….just when I have enough ammo to spread my..uh… hatred (like when he irresponsibly crashed his car after suffering insulin shock, like when he was characterized as “despondent” after not getting into the hall of fame) he goes and becomes…um….ah…. a double amputee without a bladder. I feel like…um…Frank Grimes in that Simpsons episode. You know….the…um…the….um…the….only person I’m destroying with this..um… hatred for Santo is myself. Um….Um….Worst color guy ever! All….ah…he’s good for is ….YESSS!!!!… rooting in the pressbox, kissing Sammy’s ass, (“just because Sammy has struck out seven times in a row, it doesn’t mean he’s not seeing the ball good.” He’s due.) wearing Pat Hughes out about his clothes and going on ad nauseum about the attendance quiz. But God forbid YOU rather than he make a joke about one of his three toupees. Pat Hughes is a Saint.

Levi: I’m not entirely sure I believe the Luke Appling story–two dozen fouls is more than I’ve ever heard of anybody hitting. But I could be wrong. To do that to demonstrate irritation is a pretty hilarious reason.

Every pitch of the Cora at-bat is at MLB.com, so I got to see it. Three things stood out. First, Clement kept throwing the same pitch, to the same location, over and over. His location was right on, every time. Second, Cora hit all but one of his fouls to the first-base side, and they almost all looked very very similar. None was in the air, which made the home run seem even more surprising. And third, after a few pitches, Vin Scully was stuck saying, “And another foul.” Over and over again.

Levi: I love Santo, despite agreeing with nearly every word Steve says. Especially that Pat Hughes is a Saint.

Luke: I will! I will! As Levi and Stacey and Bob well know, I agree with nearly word Steve says, especially that Ron Santo is the worst color guy ever.

Bob can testify how I put my palms to my ears when, in the 9th inning of a close game, Ron has nothing to add but “Noooo!” and “Yesssss!” and “Ohhhhhh!” and “Heyyyyy!” My latest annoyance has been his tendency to start anecdotes with two outs, resulting in Pat having to say, “…. and Sammy Sosa strikes out to end the enning. We’ll hear the rest of Ron’s story about (nonsense unrelated to baseball) after this break.”

Come the Sox series, I’ll be listening to Ed and John over on AM 1000. Sometimes I even prefer to listen to the Sox game, so brilliant are Ed and John, and count on the occasional update to know how my Cubs are doing.

Steve: Amen to the Rooney and Farmer comment, but don’t you think Farmer is getting a little out there at times? Sometimes he gets this “know it all” air about him that makes him a bit pretentious. Iíve learned a lot about baseball from listening to those guys. They can make the AL fun. Back to Hughes and Santo: Here’s another one that might not actually have happened but might as well have.

Pat: Bases full of Cubs two outs
Ron: Uh…I..uh got a fax here from….uh….Beverly in Davenport Iowa. She loves the…uh…Cubs and wants to uh…wish…
Pat: Alou hits a drive…
Ron: Yes!!! Cmon! Yes!!
Pat: And Bonds squeezes it for out #3
Ron: No!!!!

Levi, why do you love Santo so much? Is it for the same reason every kid at the Special Olympics gets a medal? That’s what’s so frustrating about this hatred. No one will contradict my general assesment of the man, instead they just say stuff like “He’s a legend” or try to start some argument with me about Santo being in the Hall of Fame.

Levi: I will admit to being completely bowled over–robbed of my ability to think critically–by his resolute fandom, his Charlie-Brown-worthy yo-yoing between absurd, childlike hopefulness and Dostoevskian despair, and by his (apparently) complete lack of any pretension.

Plus, he should be in the Hall of Fame.

stacey: although i concede that ron santo is an absolutely horrid baseball announcer, i really do enjoy listening to ron and pat. it’s like hanging out with two great friends. one of them knows a lot about baseball, and the other one’s got a french-speaking canadian dog and a Really fat cat that exercises until it is sweaty in a giant hampster ball. and they both really love the cubs.

Nothing gold can stay

Enjoy it while you can, folks. The Boston Herald is reporting the following:

“Johnny Damon has agreed to shave his beard May 21 as part of a charity venture, but he’s not going to shear his long locks of hair. The center fielder, who has 3-for-4 last night and has raised his average to .283, agreed to shave when Gillette offered to contribute $15,000 to Boston Public Library.”

According to an AP story, Gillette asked Damon to pick a charity.

I guess if the beard is gonna go, might as well help support a library.

Oh, and in today’s search for Damon photos, I found a forum on beards with a thread on new baseball facial hair this season. But please don’t let it distract you so much that you never return here.

Original comments…

sandor: Damon’s mom will be happy. Apparently she thinks he’s no longer as cute as he used to be.

Levi: Maybe shaving is a Mother’s Day gift?

Luke: If only I were a rich eccentric, because then I’d offer $15,001 to charity for him to *NOT* shave it.

Bodily functions

Well, the demand from some quarters has been so high that I have to make sure you know about how Moises Alou, who doesn’t use batting gloves, toughens his hands.

According to an item a ways down in this column, he pees on them.

So don’t hi-five him. And when he comes to the plate, shout, “Hey, Ol’ Pee-Hands!” Sounds very 19th-century.

Oh, and on the topic of waste, here’s Barry Bonds’s take on the Spider-Man controversy:

“What the [bleep] are you asking me for? I don’t care. Our job is to play ball, not to worry about what ad is on the billboard. I don’t care. They can have [bleepin’] dog-poo as bases so I have to step in [bleep] as far as I’m concerned. What the hell.”

As Redbird Nation, where I found the quote, says: It’s easy to hate Bonds, but it’s hard to hate his incorrigible Bondsness.

Actually, we probably shouldn’t spread the idea of dog-poo bases. I wouldn’t put it past Selig, if someone in the dog-poo industry offered him money. King Kaufman at Salon is at his best today on this topic.

Fan reaction

At last night’s Cubs game, the notoriously impatient Corey Patterson received a loud outburst of cheering and applause from Section 528 when he took a ball on the first pitch, something very few of us had ever seen him do.

Later in that at-bat, though, when he swung and missed at a terrible curveball out of the strike zone, he got roundly booed by the same large group.

But he righted the balance on the Corey-o-Meter later by receiving a standing ovation from our section for taking a walk.

As the scoreboard graphic of a phantom gliding down to first at the Metrodome will tell you, “Walks will haunt.” If only the Cubs–who seem to understand it on the pitching side–could realize that they are capable of doing some haunting themselves.

Or, for the sake of my Cardinals, maybe it’s best that they don’t.

Return of The Shooter

I just remembered: I dreamed last night that I met Rod Beck at Simon’s! He was sitting at the bar, in street clothes, having a Schlitz. He was as shaggy as usual, but he’d added a Burl Ives-style beard, of all things. Didn’t look too good on him.

We talked for a minute about baseball. I was polite and didn’t ask him about the unspecified personal problems that have kept him off the Padres roster since late in Spring Training.

It was a pleasant dream. Here’s wishing The Shooter well in dealing with whatever he’s going through. I want to see that arm dangle again, preferably while he’s shutting down, say, Houston.