Waiting for the Machine
Nothin’. Nada. ZE-RO.
Which is why waiting is so hard. Sure, we all knew the day would come when Albert Pujols would reach free agency and have the opportunity to test the free agent market — a market that would surely reward him with a plus $30 million a year contract. But we’ve also known that his underlying, true desire is to remain a Redbird. For life. To work it out.
I can’t take it, dear readers! It’s too disturbing an unknown to just let it be and hope for the best, especially now that a timely gauntlet the size of Barry Bonds’ forehead has been thrown down. To be honest, until a deal has been struck and Albert’s mug is securely tied to the birds on the bat forever and ever, I probably won’t get much non-beer-aided sleep.
My feelings that Bill DeWitt and John Mozeliak would not have offered Matt Holliday the sort of contract he received unless they had a plan for re-signing Pujols longterm remain intact. No front office would be so stupid as to waste Albert’s money on a guy who dropped the 2009 NLDS ball. I think.
Excuse me. Sorry. Won’t happen again (today).
Of course, I’m no dummy. And I do realize that signing Albert to the kind of multi-year contract his ability commands would probably bankrupt the team’s flexibility to build a solid supporting cast around him in the future… but I, like many naive Cardinal maniacs out there, still cling to the idea that Albert would be hip to such a situation and be an active part in deferring funds so that a full team could be assembled, to win.
‘Cuz after all, that’s what Albert really wants.
He wants to win.
And so do I.
Unfortunately, I won’t be able to concentrate on that desire until this contract situation is over.
You have 27 days, boys. 27 days.
Get ‘er done.
And don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.