Tag Archives: Baseball
Chillin with My Gnomies
This is a sports post. It features a trifecta of sporting activities, baseball, biking and hunting, yeah hunting. Of course the big news in town today was last night’s stunning Cardinals victory over the Brewers, 13-3. Starting tomorrow, they will play the next three games here in Saint Louis. Hopefully, the Redbirds will win all three and not have to go back to that nasty old dome up north. The man of the night was Albert Pujols, with one home run, three doubles and five runs batted in. The Brewers were able to get him out finally, to which the Milwaukee fans derisively cheered.
We here in Saint Louis are blessed with a fine baseball tradition that is somewhat wasted on Anne and I, and would be much better spent on our relatives to the northwest. In recognition of this disparity, Carl sent us a little package. Include in which, was the “hangin with my gnomies” refrigerator magnet that is pictured above. Also included was a letter, with pictures of three former Cardinal players. Technically, two of them are still with the Cardinal organization, Adam Wainwright is injured and Mark McGwire is now a coach. Now if we could just get Rey to be traded to Saint Louis?
I also promised you biking and ah, hunting, in this post. To that end please turn your attention to the following three video links. The first one is a movie that our friend, Steve Gamache has just released. It stars many of our biking friends and someone everyone should know. The second movie, which is also bicycling related, is a meme that has been ricocheting around the web today. I’ve seen it mentioned several times already, so, I’ll just pile on too. Finally, the hunting film, I don’t hunt, so I might seem to be a fish out of water on this subject, but I’m trying anyway. Enjoy!
- “Team Kaldi’s Coffee 2011 MS Bike Ride Weekend” – Fellow Team Kaldi’s teammate, Steve Gamache, made this rather professional looking movie of this year’s MS-150. Check out everyone’s favorite cyclist at the beginning. No, not me!
- “Mountain Biker gets taken out by BUCK – CRAZY Footage – Only in Africa” – This movie was taken during a mountain bike race in South Africa. Evan van der Spuy of Team Jeep is taken out by a Red Hartebeest. Now wait for it, the buck truly does stop here.
- “Shooting Fish In The Barrel, Why Is It That? (5:44am)” – I enjoyed this rather affected video, primarily because it was played so expertly deadpan. What, you say? Notice his heavily accented, but flawless pronunciation.
Pretty Much A Play Day
Friday night, the Maplewood business district had their Arts and Eats Walk. We walked around taking in the sights and sampling some of the food stuffs too. Anne knew everyone there, or at least everyone there seemed to know her. We eventually ended up at Las Palmas for some Mexican. Anne and I both wanted a margarita. We then made the mistake of ordering a pitcher of margaritas. I thought the waiter said that a pitcher was the price of three margaritas, plus you get another one, essentially free. Since Anne and I were both ordering one already, it seemed cheaper to order a pitcher that way we could both have a second one, for one half off. What came instead was a full pitcher, plus two full glasses of margaritas. It was way more than we could handle. After dinner, there was still plenty of margarita left. The waiter tried to get us to take go cups, but we both had already had enough.
At Las Palmas we caught the end of the Brewer’s defeat of the Diamondbacks and the only run scored in what would eventually become the Cardinal’s 1-0 victory over the Phillies. The Card’s win was a serious nail-bitter, one that I could not bear to watch. If I had tried, I would have nibbled my nails down to the second knuckle. Those of you that have seen my hands know that I am not joking. Chris Carpenter, the Cardinal starter, went the distance and pitched a three-hit shutout. He actually threw for 28 outs. A Philly batter made it to first base, after striking out, when the catcher dropped the ball. Now we face the Brewers. It will be a battle of the suds. I expect Saint Louis to institute drug testing for Miller products this week. It is high time an end is put to that sort of high life. I’m glad to see that the Tigers advanced too, and I wish them well against Texas.
Saturday, we drove out to Gray Summit and the Shaw Nature Reserve, for some birding. I should say that we have enjoyed an almost two-week period of uninterrupted crystal clear blue skies and balmy, but not too hot and not too cold temperatures. It is almost like living in SoCal, but cheaper. The Shaw Nature Reserve is part of the Missouri Botanical Gardens. In the 19th century, when coal was king, its smog was also killing all of the trees in the city of Saint Louis. Henry Shaw, the garden’s founder, bought land in Gray Summit, as an insurance policy for his garden. The Flying Wild Festival was featured. With kid’s activities and a guided walk, it seemed like an interesting event. It was actually a little bit too tame for me, but I did enjoy walking around the reserve. It is like the gardens, but bigger and cut to a rougher hew. The high point of the festival was the release back into the wild of a Red-Tailed hawk. The folks down the road at the World Bird Sanctuary brought the pictured rehabilitated parolee to the party.
Wild Cards!
Last night, before the Canon photography class started, I stopped in the hotel’s bar. I had misjudged the traffic and had arrived at the facility way too early. The bar was pretty empty; two businessmen had settled down at one end of the bar with their cocktails and were busily engaged in a conversation. After the bartender served me a glass of wine, I asked him when the Cardinal’s game started. “Seven”, he said.
That question was all the invitation that one of the businessmen needed. He explained that they both hailed from Boston, and then went on to commiserate about his Red Sox’s fall from grace this month. I said that I was hopeful about the Cardinal’s prospects; because in 2006, they had started post-season with an even worse win-loss record and then went on to win the World Series. This confused the Boston businessman, because he thought that I was referring to the 2004 series in which the Red Sox’s humiliated the Cardinals and broke their venerable streak. I corrected him with, “No, that was the Jimmy Fallon series”, a reference to the movie, Fever Pitch, “2006 was against the Tigers, remember, Hit It to the Pitcher?” To this, he just nodded.
His acquiescence empowered me to begin to boast, “You know, I hope that the Cardinals end their season in a tie with the Braves. That way, we’ll have a special playoff game here on Thursday.” This intrigued the businessman and he asked about tickets. I couldn’t help him, because I didn’t know, but at this point the bartender spoke up and told him how he could find tickets. This conversation concluded with the one businessman telling his partner that he wasn’t scheduled to return to Boston until Friday, so he just might catch that game.
This all took place before last night’s games, but true to form, Boston lost and is not in a tie for the wildcard birth. Plus, the Cardinals won and tied Atlanta for the National League’s wildcard birth. Tonight’s games could easily make this entire supposition mute, but as of writing that Boston businessman could see a game here on Thursday.
The Art of Fielding
Chad Harbach’s The Art of Fielding is a new novel that I first heard about this morning and had to purchase a copy of today. I heard about this book first on Slate. They had a review of it, which had a link to Amazon. Amazon’s page previewed the book’s first chapter, which describes the meeting of the books two main characters. By the end of that chapter, I was hooked and knew that I must own this book. I ultimately purchased it from Barnes and Nobles, at list, such was my haste. I got the only copy. It is pictured above, in Anne’s hands.
The first chapter describes the meeting of Henry Skrimshander, with the internal dialogue by Mike Schwartz. They meet in a weekend tournament, on a hot and dusty ball diamond, in Peoria, IL. Schwartz the winning team’s catcher first dismisses and then ridicules Skrimshander, as he strikes out. Schwartz is the large, athletic and gifted team captain for Westish College’s baseball team. Skrimshander is a scrawny high school kid, from South Dakota, who is playing his last game before graduation. After the game, Skrimshander still takes up his glove again and resumes his position as shortstop. The coach commences to hit a bucket of balls at him. No matter how hard the ball is hit or where it is placed, Henry almost effortlessly, scoops up the ball, pivots to first and fires the ball, always at sternum height, into the first baseman’s glove. The routine perfection of Henry’s performance reminds Schwartz of something from poetry class, Expressionless, expresses God. The first baseman then drops the ball into a second bucket. Once all the balls are moved, bucket-to-bucket, the trio trots off the field, leaving Schwartz transfixed. Mr. Harbach ends his first chapter with these sentences, “All his life Schwartz had yearned to possess some single transcendent talent, some unique brilliance that the world would consent to call genius. Now that he’d seen that kind of talent up close, he couldn’t let it walk away.”
26. The shortstop is a source of stillness at the center of the defense. He projects this stillness and his teammates respond.
Harbach’s book takes its title from the fictional book within a book of Aparicio Rodriguez, an also fictional former Saint Louis Cardinal. Harbach’s book is spiked with Zen like aphorisms from this book, like the one above that Henry uses to guide his game and his life. Aparicio Rodriguez is probably based upon Luis Aparicio, an American League shortstop. Henry’s childhood glove is signed by Aparicio Rodriguez. He calls it Zero for zero errors. All the while he was growing up; his mother would ask him when he came home from a game, “Henry, how many errors did you make?” He would always proudly answer, “Zero!”
I could wax on about Henry’s perfection on the ball field, but Harbach would have written a boring story if that was always to be the case. His book has many other characters beyond the two that I have described. Not the least is also fictional Westish College, a small liberal arts college. Nestled on Wisconsin’s Lake Michigan shoreline, it lies in the corner of the sweet spot that is the mitt made by the map of Wisconsin. I could wax on some more, but I have a book to read, a book that was last seen in the hands of a known biblioklept. Anne’s lawyer points out that the photo was clearly entrapment.





