Superstition is not something I find myself drawn to ordinarily; however, certain recent circumstances have led me to question even my own staunch stance in reality. On Saturday, while witnessing Anibal Sanchez’s no-hit bid against the lowly Indians, I thought to myself, surely my obstinate and beleaguered colleague, Mr. Krause, is enjoying this little bit of history-in-the-making.
To be sure, I sent him a simple (non-superstitious text) that read: You know what’s happening right now, don’t you?
Unfortunately, as the baseball gods shook their invisible heads in shame, Mr. Krause responded with a phone call, to ask me what I was talking about, and as soon as I answered the phone, Carlos Santana drove a deep drive over Austin Jackson’s head and the drama was dead.
Good job, Mr. Krause. Seems to be quite the formula for the Tigers this season: flashes of brilliance followed by complete disappointment. How long will the White Sox stay ahead of the Tigers? Until the end of the season. That’s how I see it.
As for me and my Cardinal fanatic family, sure we’ve been victimized by the same sort of blasé play lately; but never fear… our SAVIOR will be HERE… FRIDAY.
Hate me ‘cuz it’s Monday, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
The RSBS crew understands how tough life can be when you’re forever being confused with someone else. Back when I was blond and Jeff had his mustache, we were often mistaken for Hall & Oates. Of course, it didn’t help that we regularly launched into spirited renditions of “Maneater” for these screaming fans but sometimes you just have to make lemonade out of the lemons.
Of course, it’s a little harder to make lemonade when your particular lemons involve war crimes and 42 years of repression. Just ask Carlos Santana.
In all honesty, I probably wouldn’t know Santana if he walked up to me on the street so it’s not out of the question that I might believe he was Gaddafi. However, since Gaddafi happens to be dead, well, you can see where the confusion might set in. I guess this is just what you have to deal with when you like the flashy clothes and curly locks:
I don’t really have any advice for Santana except for maybe a haircut. After all, that turned out to be the short-term answer for Jeff and I. Yep, it worked right up to the point when people started confusing us with my favorite Tigers’ double play combo, Alan Trammell and Lou Whitaker. That’s definitely better than a dead dictator, though.
Speaking of making dreams come true, don’t forget to send us your pictures showing why you’re RSBS‘s biggest fan and keep checking in as the Pass the Crown contest continues. As it stands right now, you could win yourself a pair of Oakley sunglasses!
THAT’S A WHOLE LOT!!!
So after Buster Posey’s devastating injury suffered during a home plate collision with Florida Marlin Scott Cousins Thursday night, I shouldn’t have been so surprised that Olney would come out with some stupidly fandangled approach to squash any potential collision-based injuries.
Ban home plate collisions? What are you talking about, Buster? It was a freak accident. Ban home plate collisions!?!
Why don’t we ban pitching inside too!?!
And we should ban breaking up the double play on a hard slide into second!?!
How about we ban walk-off celebrations and ban beer in the grandstands, JUST FOR FUN!?!
EFF THE WORLD! YOU’RE ON A ROLL, BUSTER!
No one likes to see people get hurt. No one. But guess what: it happens. People get hurt playing baseball all the time. Sometimes they get seriously hurt. It sucks. There’s no denying it.
But that still doesn’t make it okay to go off and make drastic rule changes to the game, just because you and your worldwide leader in smut want blog traffic.
Hate me ‘cuz it ain’t sugarcoated, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
PS. Things might be different had you not “broken” that story on Ryan Howard for Pujols a while back. You lost all respect from me — and many other knowledgeable baseball folk, I imagine — after that.