I knew it was too good to last. Although Serge made it last a lot longer than I expected -- but in the end, he found a way to choke in Carnoustie. At least it was to Irish cutie Padraig Harrington.
Trophies and flags are for winners, Serge. Plates are for losers.
Word Up to Tony Gwynn
The Phillies are lucky enough to be playing in San Diego this weekend during all the festivities honoring Tony Gwynn- who is getting inducted into Cooperstown next weekend. Gaslamp Ball has a great first-hand account of the Gwynn statue unveiling from last night -- but right before that, the Padres played a cool tribute video to Tony on the jumbotron in Petco Park.
I applaud the Padres' musical selection on this one - and had to share.
Tony is one of the greatest ballplayers to play the game in my lifetime (and he has been in the broadcast booth for the whole Phillies-Padres series, which is priceless)- and he's a class act to boot.
A Grand Entry, A Grand Exit
Jon Lester and Craig Biggio are having one hell of a week. Two guys that are inspirations on the field- and off. Two guys for whom that oft-bandied word "hero" could, and should, apply- though neither one of them would want that label.
On Monday, Jon Lester made his triumphant return to The Show, after being diagnosed with cancer last summer- at the age of just 22. At the time, the news was a kick in the gut to Red Sox fans everywhere, who watched him quickly blossom in his first season as a starter. How could a kid with so much promise, with such a sweet personality and hard-working ethic- how could a kid like that face cancer? Everyone crossed their fingers and hoped for the best for Jon, but there was also kind of an unspoken sense of loss for him. The road to beating cancer would be difficult enough, and the possibility of him ever returning to baseball was the last thing people were worried about.
But the thing was: Jon really didn't ever seem to buy into that mindset. He pitched his last time in August, left the game, and quietly went about his battle... and by December he was declared cancer-free. He showed up in Fort Myers for Spring Training, shocking just about everyone- except for Jon Lester. He went through the paces in Florida, and then in A-ball, and then AAA-ball for the PawSox, quickly, quietly and efficiently rehabbing his way back, once again shocking just about everyone- except Jon Lester. And then came the call from Boston on Sunday, and he was on his way to Cleveland to take the hill. The fans and the media and his teammates all went a little crazy on his behalf, amazed and excited and proud and nervous and awed. But Jon just quietly went about his business, slapping hands with everyone in the dugout, and then taking down the Indians over 6 innings- and getting the W. Shocking just about everyone, except Jon Lester.
And then there's Craig Biggio- my first baseball boyfriend, a Houston sports icon and tireless devotee of charity, a guy who I've written schmoopily about before, and who I once again find myself getting teary-eyed about. Craig announced his retirement, choosing to go out with a bang (3,000+ of 'em, really) instead of fading away into the sunset. It's the end of an era for me, because for my entire life as a baseball fan, Craig has been there. He was the main reason I ever became a baseball fan in the first place, and next to my Dad, is the person I love the most for giving me the gift of baseball. I literally cannot imagine baseball without him- and reading his goodbye made me cry like losing an old friend. He's a class act, a consummate professional, a hard-working student of the game, who never sought the spotlight and never cared to be a star. He just quietly went about becoming the face of baseball for a generation of kids in South Texas, and the soul of baseball in Houston.
One kid on his way up, one legend on his way out. And in a week that brings us so much negative sports news, it's guys like Jon and Craig - heroes, inspirations, just darned good men - that remind you just why we're all sports fans.
Papyboo Goes Nine Innings
I've said it before, I'll say it again: giving Jonathan Papelbon an open mic is a thing of wonder and beauty. He's got those weekly Friendly's Scoop segments, but that and the few minutes of occasional post-game interviews are just not enough to contain his awesomeness.
Case in point: Tina Cervasio did the "Nine Innings" feature with him before Tuesday's game in Cleveland- and he delivers again with all kinds of gems. We learn that the AL batter who "rakes him" the most is Frank Catalanotto. Funniest guy on the Sox? Big Papi (though Doug Mirabelli also gets a mention). He likes to eat PB&J before games. He would not want to face off against Coco at the plate. His favorite city to play in? L.A. Not because of the baseball, but because he gets tons of free stuff from Quiksilver while he's there. And he talks about moose hunting- which is always a treat. (His hair style deserves honorable mention for its outstanding performance.)
NESN: PAPYBOO NEEDS HIS OWN WEEKLY SHOW. Where he can talk for an hour about whatever the hell he pleases, and bring on random Sox guests (or whoever else he wants). Hell, give him a DAILY show- there is definitely enough content there. Make it happen.
Special Delivery: DWright
What's better than a commercial featuring David Wright in deliveryman's uniform? A commercial featuring DWright and several FDNY firemen. The face of the Mets was out on the streets of NYC yesterday filming the newest Vitamin Water commercial- and lookin' fine (nice pants! and love that jaunty "david" nameplate on the shirt).
He makes a deliveryman's uni hot, y'all. This is a skill that cannot be overestimated.
All credit to Gothamist for the photo - and to Metsgrrl for the tip.
Why didn't they just get VY to do this? (also, seriously- why the hell the EA geniuses thought it was a grand idea to produce an ad giving a Horn fan jealous envy of Adrian Peterson, when we spanked him twice, is beyond me)
Dustin Pedroia: Barkin' At Ya
Do not mess with Mighty Mouse.
Fausto Carmona found that out when he drilled Dustin Pedroia in the back in the 4th inning of tonight's game in Cleveland, and Dustin barked out an f-bomb as he took first base. The best part isn't that cute little Mighty Mouse said "fuck" clear as day on camera, it's that the Indians broadcast team clutched their pearls in shock like old ladies when they saw Dustin drop the f-bomb.
A ballplayer who cusses! I do declare!
Then, to make matters worse, Dustin was buzzed near his head the next time he came up to bat- and the Cleveland commentators then proceeded to say he needs to shut up about it. So what if he got hit the last time at bat? Yes, it is complete and total accident and coincidence that Dustin got pegged one at-bat, and then buzzed the next time. Dustin is clearly insane for thinking that maybe, possibly, Carmona is doing it on purpose.
And they also dismiss any beef Dustin has with the idea that they might "wanna show Pedroia some tapes of when Pedro pitched for Boston." That argument is a perfectly logical one, no doubt. Carmona clearly has the right to bean Dustin because a guy that used to play for the same team three years ago (before Dustin even showed up in Boston) also used to bean people. Makes perfect sense!
I've got video of the second incident after the jump... and how come the umpire gives the crazy eyes to Dustin, and says not a word of warning to the pitcher? (I am clearly biased here, I know)
A nice old-fashioned game of tag ended in TRAGEDY, when baseball boyfriend Aaron Rowandinjured his left shoulder (it was either a "strain" or a "tweak", depending on the news source). With Chutley out of the lineup thanks to a broken hand (courtesy of Enemy No. 1 John Lannan), the last thing Cholly needed was a gang of wild children terrorizing his all-star centerfielder into a freak injury.
Beware, folks- that innocent-looking child trying to taunt you into a game of tag may be an undercover operative from a rival team (I'm looking at you, METS) trying to put you on the DL.
