I like the extra wild card playoff. Obviously. My team (the reigning WORLD CHAMPIONS) are in because of it. But I am not a fan of the umpteen ulcers currently destroying my insides as we face a do or die situation against Kris Medlen and the Atlanta Braves.
To prove it, I was going to post a picture of myself suffering from said anxiety before I realized that doing so would drive people away rather than draw them in, so instead I give you a wet and bouncy Michelle Jenneke.
Andy Williams had it all wrong. I’m sorry, but I’ll take September’s non-stop MLB pennant chasing + NFL + Notre Dame losing to Michigan combination over cold and snow and fake Santas any day. In fact, since it’s an election year, we get even more drama to go with our Irish-trouncing, and if you wait until the end of this post, you’ll even see that the Republicans have JOKES!
But first thing’s first: TUNE IN TO BASEBALL. My lord, between the AL Central showdown, the A’s/Angels wild card battle and the AL East title three-way, I can’t imagine a more exciting scenario (except maybe a non-baseball related three-way, but that’s for a different blog). Consider the NL wild card race and the fact that one of the three AL East teams could also nab the last AL West wild card spot and now allow your mind to be blown (again, maybe better for another blog).
And I haven’t even mentioned the myriad story lines decorating the start to the NFL and college football seasons!
The fact is, for dudes like Mr. Krause and I, it really doesn’t get much better than this. Unless you want to throw in some flaccid punchline deliveries (ZING!)…
Hate me ‘cuz you can, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Is the hype to be believed? Could the Nationals actually contend this year?
Could they actually contend? Hmm… does watching a pitcher’s duel strike me with uncontainable bonerjamz? HELL to the YES, my friend! There are 159 games left in the season, and the Nats could win ’em all!
Or not. Still, this is not your embarrassing Expo leftover Natinal squad of old; rather, this is a team with bona fide pitching, timely bats and a revered sage at the helm! Do you think Davey Johnson thinks they can contend? I’d bet my 1986 eight-ball wrapper collection he does.
And why not? Without Howard and Utley for a good stretch, the Phillies find themselves offensively challenged. The Braves, still salty from their epic fail of 2011, certainly don’t have all the answers. I’m not convinced the Marlins are really any better than they were before they decided to blind us with ugly and the Mets are the Mets (though don’t sleep on them either, as a .500 season is not entirely out of the question).
The truth is, the NL East isn’t as predictable as it used to be. And the addition of another wild card team makes it possible to hope a little longer.
But the number one reason why the Natinals have a legitimate shot at competing for a playoff spot this year is… The ONE.
Okay, wrong ONE. But believe me, to Stephen Strasburg, there is no spoon. Also taking the red pill this year are Gio Gonzalez, Jordan Zimmermann, Edwin Jackson, Ross Detwiler and (presumably) John Lannan. That’s one helluva starting rotation+.
When Bryce Harper eventually finds his way into the rabbit hole, there will be even MORE reason to respect the potential of the Washington Nationals (not to mention a tomfoolery fodder spike for Deadspin).
Would I put big money on the Nats now? Maybe not. Would I put money on them to be a cellar dweller? Absolutely not. This team could find its identity and they could do it as soon as now. They could be the ’11 D’backs or the ’08 Rays.
Better yet, they could be the 2012 Nationals. (see what I did there?)
Hate me ‘cuz I love Stephen Strasburg as if he were one of my own, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Have a topic you want to see us Filibuster? Send us your Filibuster questions by emailing RSBSblog@gmail.com or by commenting below.
And so in this Podcast brought to you by Lifestyles…
The RSBS crew celebrates its 30th episode by taking a stroll down podcast memory lane, remembering things that busted our (and hopefully your) guts. AIDS salad and Ron Santo’s memory get rehashed while new memories (like gay ponies v. horsicorns, an iguana named Dudley and how you can cure your foot problems) are created! Jump on board the RSBS crazy train! No stops til you question how you spend your free time!
Don’t forget to getcho Crown Royal and enjoy some happy time!
– – –
Subscribe to the RSBS Podcast by clicking *HERE*
Subscribe via iTunes by clicking *HERE*
– – –
Recorded Saturday, November 26, 2011
Holy crap. September 28, 2011. Has there ever been a better day of baseball?
South Bend, IN
One of the greatest aspects of our hallowed national pastime is that every day has the potential to bring greatness. You might see a no hitter. You might see a triple play. You might see four homeruns in one game by the same player.
In fact, just this season I witnessed Derek Jeter collect five hits in a game. TWICE. I saw Justin Upton hit a broken bat homerun. I saw Mariano Rivera become the undisputed king of the save.
I also saw back-t0-back bunt basehits to start off a game. I saw Shelley Duncan have the defensive game of his life by making three nearly identical amazing grabs in left to rob the Rangers. And I saw Adam Dunn get a base hit off a lefty.
Magic. Baseball has it. And some days it has it more than others.
I would put September 28, 2011 in that category for sure, because on that day FOUR games provided unparallelled magical endings, nearly simultaneously.
But I also can’t think of September 28th without thinking about 2007 Game 163 or the 2008 Game 163 or the 2009 Game 163!!! In fact, I still consider that 2009 Tigers v. Twins contest to be the most jaw-dropping game I have ever witnessed with my own two eyes. Clearly, when we reach the end of September and regular season games carry the weight of sending teams on to capture even more glory, the potential for being among the best is like a batting practice fastball.
Right down central.
In the end though, what qualifies as the “best day in baseball” is obviously relative. For me, I can’t seem to get past October 27, 2006.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
**Have a topic you want to see us Filibuster? Interested to know why Mr. Krause walks with an odd limp? Send us your Filibuster questions by emailing firstname.lastname@example.org or by commenting below.
As one who is acutely aware of the aggravating effects of speaking in unchecked and unvetted absolutes, I must choose my words wisely, especially after witnessing baseball miracle after miracle after miracle. But, judging from the number of cardiac arrests I had in the comforts of my own home last evening, I can honestly say — WITH COMPLETE AND UNSHAKEABLE FAITH — that September 28, 2011 will go down as the greatest single day of regular season baseball games I have ever watched.
Words… ah, these words… not even they can do my feelings justice:
Baseball. It just doesn’t get any better than baseball, my friends.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Over the last several days, the St. Louis Cardinals have done a number on my heart rate, sending my anxiety levels soaring with on-again-off-again torments akin to those of jilted lovers past. Are the Cardinals trying to teach me a lesson for giving up on them in August? Do they not know that I have kowtowed my ignorance, begged them for compassion? Pleaded for forgiveness?
I NEVER LEFT YOU, MY FRIENDS. I COULD NEVER LEAVE YOU. SO STOP FREAKING ME OUT.
There are three games left. They’re behind the Braves by one game. And they get to play the LOLstros.
Win, and there is great potential that I will break things in my apartment from all the excitement. Lose, and there is great potential that I will break things in my apartment from all the excitement.
I need to get out of the house.
So I’ll be at Sox Park, where the home team will put you to sleep faster than a handful of benzodiazepines chased with a bottle of scotch. I’m hoping the visiting Jays can distract me from the tension filled anxiety of my own nervous psyche. But I will be scoreboard watching. You can be sure of that.
And, when it comes time to break things, I’ll fit right in. No one will probably even notice.