Asked about the somewhat curious decision to send Carlos Martinez back out to begin the sixth inning of yesterday’s game, having already walked eight, struck out eleven, and thrown close to 110 pitches, Mike Matheny was quick to explain his line of thinking:
“Well, you know, I mean, sure it was a lot of pitches. But we’ve all seen what Westbrook has done this season, and how awesome of a two-way player Kawhi Leonard has become. That’s not even to mention what Lebron did this year. All of those guys had amazing seasons, and yeah, I admit I was helping out Carlos. If he’s going to keep pace with those other players in the MVP race, collecting those double-doubles is gonna be a big deal. So was I helping my guy pad his stats? Sure; a little. But no one deserves the chance more than Carlos.”
When reporters pressed Matheny further about his argument for sending Martinez back out, pointing out the fact he is not an NBA coach, nor El Gallo a point guard, he eventually shouted at them to leave him alone and called security to escort the big meanies out of his office so he could finish his bubblebath in peace. At press time, the Cards’ manager was busily writing out the lineup of crewmen on his toy submarine, making engine noises with his lips.
Today is Easter Sunday, at least for many people reading this blog. We happen to have Easter falling on the same day for both Western and Orthodox Christians this year, so happy Easter to more of you than usual. If you fall outside the boundaries of the Easter-celebrating world, then I hope you simply have a nice Sunday.
For me, Easter generally represents an opportunity to eat myself into a ham coma, the saltiest and stickiest of all meat-related comas, and a chance to indulge in two and a half Cadbury’s cream eggs, which is the maximum number a person can consume in 24 hours before their blood begins to slow too much due to dangerous concentrations of white goo in the bloodstream.
Holidays are always a bit of a hit or miss proposition around here, as traffic tends to be disrupted as people travel, or are roped into familial obligations, or simply lie on a sofa barely breathing as they try to process the previously mentioned toxic cocktail of nitrates and super-concentrated sugar. It was mentioned in yesterday’s research paper of a post by Ben Markham that his prospect-valuation opus might very well end up underappreciated due to low holiday weekend traffic, and that’s entirely possible. Thus, I’m going to simply pen this quick and breezy column wishing you a happy holiday today, or a happy regular Sunday, or whatever else you might like, and promise to return with more substantive baseball writing Wednesday morning.
Also, if I’m being honest, this team is shockingly frustrating to follow already, and trying to make sense of this unbelievable start is somewhat daunting, to put it lightly. I have a feeling there’s going to be quite a few prospect posts in my near future. (Times like these I really wish I could drill down on all the players the Cards are going to draft in June, but, well, you know.)
So have a very nice day today, everyone. I’m off to a huge car show in Forest Park (fingers crossed it doesn’t rain), and then onward to family obligations of my own.
Take care, and I’ll see you back here Wednesday.