Everything's Okay, Right? Right?...
In through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose, out through the mouth...
There are times when being a writer can get you in trouble, where the creativity you (god willing) possess can work against you.
This is one of those times.
The Cards- my Cards, the best team in the NL and possibly in baseball (do we really buy the White Sox? For sure? Gun to the head, put your money on the table, are you taking the pale hose? Carl Everett doesn't believe in gays, and I don't believe in the Sox) currently sit 10 1/2 games up in the NL Central. They have one of the two or three best starting staffs in baseball, arguably the best. They're solid defensively, pure professionals, and play with only one goal- to win the World Series.
They're also more beat up than Mike Tyson.
Seriously, when the Dodgers look at you saying, "Man, they've got some serious injury problems," you know it's out of control. Molina, Sanders, Rolen, and now Walker are all on the DL. Edmonds has missed some time, and really needs to rest every fifth day if he's going to be healthy for the playoffs. Even Albert Pujols needs a breather. That's like saying the Terminator could use a day off, but it seems to be the case (that stretch where he played left field with one arm- two years ago, I believe- made many of us forget he was human).
So now the Redbirds, who had suspicious OF depth to begin with, have all hands on deck trying to get through this stretch, with a lineup that went from fantasy gold to fantasy "When did Tony Graffanino get in my lineup?" level. Meanwhile, the Astros (who I believe I buried a couple months ago- my bad!) have won 198 consecutive games, and are right back in the thick of things, as far as the Wild Card goes. And here's where the imagination kicks in. With their current problems, it's not out of the question for the Cards to limp along at .500, or even a slightly lower clip, for the next 20 games or so. One more injury could make that even worse. Now if Houston continues playing .667 or better over their next 60 games- very tough, yes, but not hard to picture the way they've been going- that'll eat up the cushion pretty quick.
If nobody were playing well in the division, I wouldn't worry. Let Sanders, Walker, and Rolen sit until September 1, give them a month to get back in shape, and we're all good to go for October. Now what I have is the same feeling I get when I'm flying. I sit down, the plane takes off, and then every bump makes me think I'm auditioning for the 2nd season of Lost, except I know I'll be one of the guys ****** out the back of the plane because only models and former hobbits were allowed to get on that island. My brain tells me everything is fine, that I have a better chance of being struck by lightning in sunny SoCal than I do dying in a plane crash.
But there's always that overactive imagination. So while it should be a smooth ride into October, I'm gonna leave my seat belt fastened, my seat back up, and my tray table stowed. Just in case it gets a little bumpy.
Or, if nothing else, pry T.O. off the Eagles. Failing that, maybe Howard Stern. Lord knows plenty of people in Washington find him offensive.
She throws a legit 70 mph with movement, brings a Michelle Wie excitement to the roster, and because she's only 13 or so, Sammi could singlehandedly bring down the average age on the Yanks roster to 84.4. And now that I'm thinking about it, do you think Michelle Wie could hit a curveball?
In fairness, it was also before I knew Derrick Lee would somehow channel the spirit of Babe Ruth, so I'm calling it a wash.
of a division (worse than the NL Central. Think about that) .450 the rest of the way could win it as well.
and the Sox would be 9 million games up on the Tribe. In fact, it's very possible the entire team has put their afterlife on the open market. Nobody in the regular lineup is hitting over .300. They've only had a couple real run producers for most of the year- although Frank Thomas' return seems to be helping in that regard, and Carl Everett apparently doesn't believe in ***********. Or homosexual dinosaurs, for that matter. That's an unusual recipe for success. 