Feels Like The First Time

You could've dropped that game -- that entire homestand, really -- right into the middle of June '05 and we'd be none the wiser. Despite the efforts of that vile, treacherous drunken SOB Tony LaRussa to suck the life out of the game, the energy of the crowd and ultimately those sweet, sweet line drives a good time was had by all. (And hopefully those three straight losses serve as a detoxing enema for that soused-up time-wastin' overrated paranoid loon of a crap manager they have)

I really hate Tony LaRussa. He's a very good manager, and you can't argue with his results (unless you want to bring up his inability to notice backne or needle marks in asses of his star players). But you can argue with how he gets there. He looks for every minute edge, ruling the game like a czar drunk on power. EVERY pitch requires deliberation. EVERY pickoff throw is orchestrated from on high. It's the worst kind of totalitarianism and it really sucks the life out of the game and its pace, which is especially bothersome when you're sweating off parts of your anatomy you forgot you had in a too-hot concrete dump of a stadium.

Booing the pickoff throws was fun. Booing him as he flailed his arms around in some sort of signal to the umpire was fun. Booing him as he sulked off the field, having been ejected was even more fun.

But kicking his team's ass was the most fun of all.

The best part was that they did it by playing his own type of game in the 8th inning.

One pitch created two outs, leading to one win, but it took four separate players and two different pinch-hitters to get the matchup he wanted.

Sure, he streeeeettttttched the margin in his favor, but at a ridiculously slow pace, and with just a minor net upgrade in his chances. Good for the Nats, and good for Ray King to shove that play right back in his smoky-sunglassed face.

(Yeah, I know he was gone by then, but you know damn well, he's managing the feckin' game anyway, passing notes to Duncan or whoever, especially since Kasten took away all the alcohol from the clubhouses. What's a drunkard to do besides waste everyone in attendance's time?)

Anyway, the point of the game wasn't LaRussa's stupidity, it was about the Nats, and the play of the game was undoubtedly Ryan Zimmerman's. In that key 8th inning, he fell behind 0-2 then got a series of tough pitches, fouling EACH one off, staying alive. These weren't ticks either, he was making solid enough contact, deflecting them up and over the screen. Finally, steroid cheat Ryan Franklin (funny how they follow LaRussa around, isn't it?) zipped a slider low and over the plate -- a tough pitcher's pitch -- and Zimmerman went fishing, depositing it in front of the Cards' left fielder, giving the Nats a lead. When Dmitri Young ripped the two-run double into the gap, it was like gravy on DaMeat's favorite flavor of ice cream in a pail.

The crowd came alive. I stood up and cheered -- my voice is a bit sore now, if you can believe it. And we all went home happy, with a little cherry on top in the form of Austin Kearns' terrific game-ending sliding catch off a shallow flare to right.

Bang! Zoom! There went the fireworks, and as I walked out, down the stairs, it felt like 2005 all over again.

It's a feeling I've missed.

The rational side isn't expecting that feeling to linger for long, but feck the rational side, especially when we're winning, and especially when I'm enjoying myself at the game (Despite LaRussa's best efforts!).

In case you've ever wondered if Cardinals fans love Bob Carpenter as much as some of us do, here's the answer to your question.