while our teeth gnash over mark mulder's woes (see post directly below), let's at least be thankful we aren't choking on an overpriced renteria contract, as bostonians are. my SB cohort at Over the Monster writes today: "The Red Sox are paying Edgar Renteria a lot of money to play below league average." hmmmm . . . . that do sound familiar. and edgar's out there ev'y single day, rather than just ev'y fifth........do you feel consoled?
but don't you worry about mark mulder nor nothing else, says the baseball savant: "The NL Central is the only division in baseball not in question. The Cardinals will be the division champions." of course, in the same post he declares pamela lee anderson to be without peer in the realm of feminine beauty, so perhaps we should be worrying . . . . .
make mine jennifer connelly.......
so anyway, back to mulder: cardnilly offers up some perspective drawn from Aces, a book about oakland's zito-huddy-mulder triumvirate. nilly is hopeful of an eventual fix: "he's got some mechanical flaw that he's overworrying about, and he's either over- or undercompensating, and everything's snowballing on him." and even if we're stuck with the mulder we have: "Matty was a fairly lousy pitcher last year, and he won fifteen games." i'm in firm agreement with the latter; if mulder can pitch .500 ball the rest of the year and keep his era below 4.50, i will gladly take it. and i'll repeat (probably to my later regret): i think the cubs have the type of lineup that plays into his hands. if he wins a game or two against them, we'll all feel a little less cranky.
anyway, it's not even mulder's fault -- dan at getupbaby brought this mini-slump upon the team a coupla days ago by declaring nightly success too boring for blogging. now he's sorry and offering up mea culpas to the baseball devils (baseball gods? hah!). but danup, don't shoulder all the blame yourself. me and nilly said much the same thing. anyway, i've just gotten us all off the hook: i crumpled up this morning's box scores and, before chucking them at the trash cannister across the room, said out loud: if i sink this shot, the cards win the series. well, count it! 's all good . . . .