Alright, it's settled: When I form a five-piece shoegazer band, we will be called The Veterans of Mediocrity. And you won't "get us" because our melodies can only be comprehended beyond the human aural spectrum. We will literally be too cool for the human race to understand. I'm fairly certain that we will wear lots of flanel, though. Rays 6, Orioles 2
So we're one game into the 2008 baseball season, and there is a significant chance that this will be the most satisfying day of the year for Rays fans. I will not be happy with anything shy of a playoff berth, which quite simply means I will not be happy. Awesome.
Some random opening day thoughts:
• James Shields: 7 IP, 5 H, 2 ER, 2 K, 3 BB.
It may have been against the worst team in division (and maybe the entire league), but Shields was damn impressive to the point where he erased any and all doubts that I had about last year being a fluke.
Rarely do you see a pitcher make a concerted effort to throw his best pitch less, but that is exactly what Shields did. By holding back on the changeup , it became an even more devastating pitch when he did throw it. No one hit him hard today.
• The pitch Eric Hinske smacked out of the park was the biggest meatball I have ever seen in the Major Leagues. Still, I wonder why so many teams are down on this guy. I mean, he was a Rookie of the Year in 2002 and clearly has talent buried somewhere those 16 exterior layers of fat. And yet, he has to survive final cuts just to make the Rays roster? Is he raping immigrant babies in his spare time? I don't get it.
• The Rays blogosphere is abuzz with talk that we are pursuing the Cubs' Matt Murton. Reason No. 1,548 why I love baseball: Fans going batshit over Matt freaking Murton. I love that people (myself included) are crazed enough to start pages-long message board discussions debating the merits of trading a possible platoon/bench player to a perennial loser. Is it wrong to take pride in insanity?
• One game in, and all those Dioner Navarro breakout projections are looking alright (3-for-4, RBI, R). Offensively, at least. Orioles broadcaster Gary Thorn made passing mention of high-ranking Rays officials and their disappointment in Navarro's game-calling ability. I was previously unaware of this apparently widespread perception.
• Bullpen watch: 2 IP, 0 R, 1 H.
It wasn't pretty, but the combination of Trevor Miller, Al Reyes and Dan Wheeler slammed the door. Already a huge step up from Camp and Orvella. For his one inning of work, Wheeler was rewarded with a 3 year, $10 million extension. No, I'm not kidding. Just shows you how bad the previous gascans have been.
• The big guns: Crawford 1-for-5, SB, RBI, R. Pena 1-for-4. Upton 1-for-4 2 RBIs.
Pena would have HR No. 1 if he hit the ball anywhere but straightaway center field. And he would have had another hit if he didn't get robbed on a frozen rope. Upton came through when it mattered. And this just in: Crawford is still fast.
• Cliff Floyd must feel like he is 175 years old on this team. Which probably isn't far from his actual age. Rounding first base on his double, you could actually hear his knees creaking through the boom mic.
• I have already ceded that Jason Bartlett will be a permanent black hole on offense, and that every hit he gets this year is just a bonus. I am more than OK with this if he plays defense.
• Please. Bring. Evan. Longoria. Up. That is all.
There are no jokes to be made here. All I will say is that despite my best efforts, it is impossible to translate the feeling of walking around the immaculate lawn that is Augusta National. Stunning is an overused word, but for one of the few times in my life, it actually felt applicable.
Simple across-the-board elitism is not enough for Augusta National. Instead, the club chooses to segregate the patrons into even further levels of high society. Hence, the badge system. If you have a blue badge, you get a certain level of access. If you have a black badge, you have a higher level of access. And on and on it goes.
This is the majestic Magnolia Lane. Where I am standing with the camera is within the hallowed ground of Augusta National, just in front of the clubhouse. Us mere mortals not competing in the tournament are not allowed onto Magnolia Lane itself, but we are allowed to peer down it onto Washington Road to mock all the people outside that couldn't get tickets.
After 10-plus years on the waiting list, Hootie Johnson & Friends finally accepted my application to attend The Masters. I think it was the letter of recommendation from David Duke that put me over the top.
Alright, it's settled: When I form a five-piece shoegazer band, we will be called The Veterans of Mediocrity. And you won't "get us" because our melodies can only be comprehended beyond the human aural spectrum. We will literally be too cool for the human race to understand. I'm fairly certain that we will wear lots of flanel, though. 