Morning. Lboros and I are switching days this week, so Happy Monday!

Yesterday morning,as I was considering the day ahead, I perchanced to look at the matchup in the baseball game of the day. And what did I see? I saw Joel Pineiro, who despite his successes in the Cardinal uniform fails to inspire feelings of confidence in me, going up a against his old team, the Boston Red Sox. I saw Jon Lester, who just happens to be as close to a shutdown lefty as you're going to find in the game at the moment, pitching for the Sawx. I saw an angry, pent up team, ready to rain some destruction upon the fragile skulls and fragile egos of our boys in red as revenge for the ambush that the Cardinals had sprung in the first two games of the series. I saw a Cardinal offense that, despite the explosion of Saturday night, has struggled to score runs in the absence of their anchor. In short, I saw a game that didn't look all that promising. And that led me to make a rather fateful decision, as it turns out.

I didn't watch the game.

That's right, friends. I didn't watch the baseball game yesterday. I set my DVR to record it, and I went out antique shopping for the day. Unfortunately, on this particular day, the Cardinals apparently decided to play possibly the greatest single game of the entire season. And I didn't see a single, solitary minute of it.

Don't take me wrong; it wasn't a complete loss by any means. I did come up with a really gorgeous cut crystal decanter that I plan on filling with Scotch just as soon as possible, some really beautiful silverware that originally came from a Louisville hotel in the early 20s. On the baseball front, though, not so good. Of course, due to another miracle of modern technology, (my cell phone) I ended up following the game and was already aware of how it ended, thus essentially turning the idea of trying to watch the greatest game of the year into something very similar to watching The Sixth Sense after you know the twist. The best you can possibly expect to do is follow the tiny little clues that lead up to the end, but really, the whole thing's just ruined.

And so, what can I possibly say about the game? Hell, what can I say about the series, for that matter? The Cardinals come off playing the most pathetic, lifeless, just plain bad baseball you can imagine, getting swept by the Kansas City Royals, then go into Boston to play, quite possibly, the best team in the game, and play them to a series win and a heart stopping, extra inning contest in the finale. I have no idea what the hell this team was doing against KC; I just don't see how you can possibly be so good against the top of the league and so bad against the bottom. I gots to tell you, it's a little frustrating.

The one thing I was really a little concerned with was the Chris Perez meltdown we saw in the eighth inning. We haven't seen that before from Perez; even when he has struggled, it's been fairly mild. This, though, this is what we were afraid of from Chris. We saw this every so often in his minor league career; games when Perez would just find himself unable to find the plate. Sadly, the walks tend to come in bunches for Perez. When his control goes bad, it goes almost completely south. Really, it's the only thing that can possibly stand between the kid and being a top flight closer; the truly elite closers don't lose it like that. They may allow a baserunner or two, but the don't walk three hitters in a row after getting two outs in the inning.

Congratulations to Mr. Nick Stavinoha, who becomes the ninth Cardinal player to make his ML debut this year. He seems to have a nice swing and a bit of an idea at the plate; we could certainly do worse than to have him DHing for the next six games. In fact, I have a really hard time understanding why this move wasn't made before. There is no excuse, and I mean absolutely none, to ever see Adam Kennedy as the Designated Hitter as we all did on Saturday. I'm sorry, that's just bad roster management.

A few things:

R.I.P. Mr. George Carlin. I was never a huge fan of Carlin's work, to be perfectly frank. The influence of the man, though, cannot be denied. He was a giant in the comedy world for well over fifty years. The world is a little less funny this morning.

Jess Todd, the Cards' wunderkind, had his first bad game of the year last night, giving up 5 runs in as many innings. Kid'll never be anything with numbers like that. I want that ERA back down below 1.50, and I want it now!

I saw the greatest movie over the weekend, and I want you all to run out and find it right now. If you can't find it, demand that someone get it for you. It is called "Flesh for Frankenstein", and it will rock you. Andy Warhol was one of the producers, and it's every bit as brilliant as, well, hmm. Never mind, there's nothing worth comparing this movie to. It's that damned good. You'll never see a better Sci Fi/ horror/ comedy/ love story/ excuse to drop LSD. If you love zombies doing it, (and if you're anything like me, you rarely think of anything else) then this is the film for you. Do yourself a favour and don't miss out on one of the true classics of American cinema. The author of this piece takes no responsibility for anyone inadvertently exposed to awful, awful things by viewing of the film in question.

Below this post, Azruavatar has a quick writeup of some of his own thoughts following the Boston series. Check it out.

Have a nice off day, everybody. Next come El Tigres, and they are, unfortunately, looking more and more like the team we all thought they were. Just in time.