In fact, I have to admit: I love Livan Hernandez.
He’s a horse. A nice guy. And without him, there is no Eric Gregg wide-strike zone comedy of errors.
Also, of all the baseball scorecards I have collected over the years, four of them are games he started. He’s the most represented non-Cardinal in my pile and for each game I saw him pitch, he appeared in a different uniform.
Viva los LIVANstros!
No me odies, porque estoy en lo cierto.
On Sunday I finished the Houston Marathon in 3 hours, 15 minutes and 19 seconds — a new personal best. And though it’s been more than 48 hours since I finished the race, not a minute has gone by where I haven’t found complete satisfaction in having accomplished the task. In fact, I don’t think I’ll stop reliving that race for a long, long time.
During my flight home to Chicago, I randomly ran into some fellow Cardinals fans friends of mine from waaaaay back. Odd as it is to bump into old friends in an unexpected place, I was quite happy with the brevity at which our conversation turned to the baseball glories of 2011, of Game 6 in particular, and how we kept our respective neighbors up that night, how our heart rates have never dipped and soared to such extreme levels. Reliving that game and that series at 30,000 feet was a pleasant testament to history.
I was reminded that you can never undo what’s been done.
And I’ll be reliving such glorious conquests for as long as I possibly can.
Hate me ‘cuz I ain’t never gonna stop gloating about the ’11 series, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
“This is what happens when you leave home. You meet… people.”
Men, are you moody? Are you out of shape? Do your testicles feel weird? Of course they do. The Astros are leaving the National League and you miss them already.
Ladies, how are you doing? Are you okay? Is that new Lifestyles vibration machine doing enough to distract you from the tragedy of losing the Astros to the evils of the American League?
I understand. The Astros are packing their bags and their Shetland ponies are moving to the coast of west. From the National League to Africa to Turkey all the way to the American League. Don’t they know they’re moving from the farmhouse to the militia camp? They’re going on a pilgrimage, I guess. But, what I really want to know is…
Who’s gonna clean up all this crap when they leave?
This is a great chance for them to leave cornpone Texas all together and get a new start. Why stay in the Orange Juice Box, with that train and that moat? They might as well have a gator pit in left field complete with a Cloverfield monster. And what’s that weird uphill thing they got in centerfield? And what exactly are the Crawford Boxes? And those odd horsey fans who follow caballo Carlos Lee everywhere he goes… are the buzzy bees coming too? And who’s gonna take over the used book sale Drayton McLane held every year to raise money to bring back Roger Clemens?
Meanwhile, on a much sadder note, because of this whole league switch it looks like I’ll have to sell my timeshare in Houston. I’ll definitely miss the hot southern belles who I would lie to my friends about sleeping with when I was actually spending the weekend watching the Cubs.
Good luck, Asteroids. Good night, my friends. It’s off to the west for thee…
Follow Johanna on Twitter!
And so in this Podcast…
Jeff, Allen and Johanna vehemently compare and critique Croc-based lifestyles, which (surprisingly) include but are not limited to the many labels of Josh Hamilton (including those who are scantily clad), Derek Jeter’s inner Pete Rose, Jeff’s go-to-Gehrig impression, Ozzie Guillen’s mess-mouth and much, much more… all so you can at least laugh while you waste some valuable time!!! Go ahead, laugh it up, fuzzball!
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*Special thanks to our PodMaster Keith Carmack. Keith is involved in some impressive projects himself. Check out his work at Undercard Films. Seriously. Do it. Or I’ll have Prince Fielder sit on your face.
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Recorded Saturday, October 30, 2010