Results tagged ‘ Matt Holliday ’
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.
Jeff and Allen have been very busy all season long and with the playoffs in full swing, they thought it might be nice to bring in some relief writers. Today their friend from college, Jordan, gives us his take on the playoffs.
Man, it really is great to see Tommy Lee out there thrilling the crowd again. And this time instead of sticking it to Pam Anderson, he’s sticking it to the Yankees, picking up right where he left off last year. I’m happy for the guy, though. It’s a real achievement and hopefully it makes up for taking all that crap from Nikki Sixx for all those years. And playing for the Mariners. Now that’s a motley crew, right? Right?
Meanwhile Henry Rollins found an ideal moment to get back into form. Sure, he’s had a rough season and the last couple years weren’t the same with the injuries and all. But hey, what do you expect when you go from fronting Black Flag to playing shortstop for the Phillies?
But the Phillies also made the bold move of picking up Matt Holliday and turning him into a pitcher. It’s like the anti-Rick Ankiel. Considering that first round no-hitter he threw, it appears the Phillies get the last laugh. In all honesty, I didn’t see it coming either.
And of course the Yankees are loaded from top to bottom. Is Roger Clemens still playing? No? Uh, ok. Well, at least they still have Kung Fu Panda, Chien Ming Wang. I think that’s his nickname. He is Chinese after all. Or is he Korean? I always get them mixed up.
Anyway, the point is, I love the baseball playoffs and they’re even more exciting than usual this year with all these familiar names and faces in new places. I’m still a little bummed that my Twins didn’t do better but really, they just haven’t been the same since Kirby Puckett and Kent Hrbek left.
Tony LaRussa will be back at the Cardinals’ helm in 2011.
I’m happy about that. I’m just as happy about that as I am happy that I still have all my teeth. And believe me, I like having all my teeth.
But I think I’m in the majority of Cardinals fans who really is over the glamour (if you can call it that) associated with Tony LaRussa. Is he a fantastic manager? Indeed. Is he one of the best ever in the history of the game? You bet. But… Mr. LaRussa, what on earth have you done for me lately?
Not that much. Unless, of course, you consider alienating our number one prospect doing something productive.
Look, y’all, it is not my intent to get all privileged and Yankeefied here, to whine about continued success and be an annoying voice of nag; because I know what it feels like to lose. I’m not seeing this for something it’s not. But let’s face it: a team that features both Albert Pujols and Matt Holliday in the lineup and Chris Carpenter and Adam Wainwright in the starting rotation, must be in the playoffs.
2011 is an all-in year for the Cards. They better throw every dollar, every asset, every rosin bag in to winning the whole damn thing.
Anything less will be a complete failure — and probably the last of TLR’s tenure with St. Louis.
Go ahead. Hate me. I don’t care. Just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
So, it looks like we’ll watch the playoffs from the sidelines this year
since both of our teams decided to nosedive in the second half. Which
teams’ failure is the most discouraging, though, the Tigers or the
A clever move from my sinister and oft pejorative colleague, Mr. Allen Krause, inserting himself into the Filibuster box by stuffing it with this one question, over and over and over again. I guess some part of Mr. Krause is looking for sympathy in the wake of yet another disappointing season in Detroit; because anyone with any sort of baseball awareness knows that the greater discouragement between these two teams most assuredly belongs to the St. Louis Cardinals.
Hell, up to a few weeks ago we were all buzzing about how the Cards could just mail it in for the NL Central title. How could they not?!? A team anchored by two of the best pitchers in the game (Wainwright, Carpenter), flanked by serious ROY candidate Jaime Garcia, a solid Jake Westbrook… and I haven’t even gotten to the offense centered around Albert Pujols and Matt Holliday… a team like this… it screams playoffs.
So how is it that they are dead?
Lack of motivation. Sense of entitlement. Clubhouse squabbling. Streakiness. The absence of a clear, dominating, team leader.
Really, that’s what it comes down to.
Meanwhile, the 2010 edition of the Tigers never had a chance to begin with. Outside of Justin Verlander (who struggled early on), their pitching was a complete mess (Dontrelle Willis anyone?). They started two rookies in Austin Jackson and Scott Sizemore… and at the very last minute they signed a less-than-stellar Johnny Damon to… well, to do what, I don’t really know. His non-impact did the talking. Or not. Depending on how you look at it.
So, Mr. Krause, of course the Cardinals’ 2010 fail remains more epic (as the kids iz sayin’) than your disastrous Detroit Tigers, who are apt to see Jimmy Leyland walk away after the season, so that he can spend more quality time smoking… and… smoking.
But not all hope is lost for the RSBS universe. The Rays and Rangers look like fun teams to root for in the postseason, and let us not forget… Mr. Krause still has a horse in this race:
Hate me ‘cuz I got people who can extract sensitive information, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
***SEND US YOUR FILIBUSTERS****
Something on your mind? Want to see Jeff and Al sweat (separately, not together, eww)? Think you got a real stumper? Send us your Filibuster question(s) by commenting or emailing them to us at firstname.lastname@example.org.
***Pics of Mr. Krause declaring his love for Albert Pujols & Co. also welcome. I have a hunch…
When I quit smoking, I took up the habit of chewing on toothpicks — to keep my orally stimulated addiction in check. The worst part about it? People often say: “Hey, Jeff, fiddlin’ with ‘dem toothpicks… you remind me of Dusty Baker.”
Being compared to Baker may make my skin curdle with infectious disgust, but I suppose that’s still better than blackening my lungs and dying young of emphysema.
Or is it?
Dear readers, believe me, I do respect Dusty Baker as a human being. I mean, look at him, he breathes on his own, his heart pumps without having to think about it… all very impressive indeed; but as a baseball connoisseur, there’s no way in Jesus-hates-the-Cubs-Hell I want him managing my baseball team. Often blamed for the mass destruction of young, promising arms with infinite potential (see Mark Prior, Kerry Wood, Homer Bailey), Dusty Baker also lacks the one thing that makes good managers great and great managers Tony LaRussa… and that thing is: common sense.
In the 7th inning of last evening’s contest between the Cardinals and Reds, a game that at that point was still wide open, Dusty Baker brought in his nearly-virginal relief pitcher, young righty Logan Ondrusek, to face Brendan Ryan. With Albert Pujols on deck, Ondrusek quickly walked Ryan, unable to find the strike zone like Mr. Krause is unable to find a meaningful relationship with a woman (though, to his credit, he does surprisingly well with primates). Instead of yanking Ondrusek like he probably should have, Dusty left the kid — in only his second Major League appearance — in the game to face one of the greatest hitters of all time.
Albert rocked him.
So did Matt Holliday.
Welcome to the Big Leagues, kid! If your arm didn’t hurt before you became a Redleg, believe me when I say you won’t even be able to shake hands after Dusty’s done with ya!
Hate me ‘cuz I put it out there, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
The interwebs are a buzz about RSBS‘ propensity for picking on what seems like only a select few players/teams, for striking at those more prone to ridicule, the bottom of the baseball barrel. We’re talking about the Kyle Farnsworths, Brad Lidges, Milton Bradleys. We’re talking about the Chicago Cubs, Pittsburgh Pirates, Kansas City Royals.
We’re talking about easy marks. All of them. They are weak, addled, flawed.
But let it be know that dear readers galore have spoken; and we at RSBS are not ones to disappoint. So here ya go, folks… a quick slanderous slaying of all 30 Major League Teams… in one minute or less (or more, depending on your reading level):
Hey, Yankees, is that Mo’nique or C.C. Sabathia?…
Boston Red Sox? More like Boston Sucks Cox!…
Dear Rays, I can’t wait until you disappoint all your new fans by letting Carl Crawford go…
Blue Jays, if you were gonna let an Italian destroy your franchise, why not give one of the Gottis a shot?…
I didn’t know the Oriole way included a sharp decline in season ticket sales…
Sorry, Twins, but you’ll never be as good as Kent Hrbek farting in George Brett’s face…
Hey Tigers, remember when people used to live in your city?…
Attending a White Sox game is a lot like attending a vocational school open house…
I think we can all agree that Charlie Sheen could make the 2010 Indians squad…
The Kansas City Royals… did I mention Kyle Farnsworth?…
Oh, sure, I love the California Los Angeles Angels of Los Aneheim California Angeles Los L.A….
The Texas Rangers: Where born again drug addicts find Jesus while not making it to the playoffs…AGAIN…
Wow, Mariners, your most famous player outside of Griffey and Ichiro is… Harold Reynolds? Seriously? Ouch…
A’s… it stands for “moneyball doesn’t work so it’s best we go back to employing known juicers”…
Dear Phillies, if the Phanatic isn’t a phag, I don’t know what mascot is…
Sorry, Marlins… if you’re not cocaine or the Dolphins, Miami doesn’t even know you’re there…
Atlanta Braves…14 straight playoff appearances and how many World Series titles?…
Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Met will now be played by a corpse…
Hey, Nationals, two words for ya: Dunn’s ^ss!…
The Cardinals? The Cardinals!?! You’re… you’re… aweso– you’re… (Sorry, I can’t do it; I tried)…
For insults directed towards the Cubs, please see the 2+ years of RSBS archives
Hey, Brewers, is that Mo’nique or Prince Fielder?…
Just wait, Reds fans, two more years of Dusty Baker, and you won’t even have a pitching staff!…
Houston, we have a problem… and it’s called the Astros…
Yeah, picking on the Pirates is a lot like picking on the quadriplegic fat blind kid whose parents got divorced and forgot they even had a kid…
The Dodgers‘ m.o. is: show up late, leave early, hope no one notices the messy divorce…
Ok, Rockies, Dante Bichette called, he wants his inflated numbers back…
Hey, Giants, is that Mo’nique or — nope, that’s Pablo Sandoval. He’s just fat…
Padres? Friars? Perhaps Molested Altar Boys would be more suiting, considering the amount of back-bending abuse they’ve taken from Sandy Alderson…
The Arizona Diamondbacks? More like the Arizona Diamondhacks!
My vitriolic verbal leg sweeping knows no limit.
So don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
P.S. The Cardinals? Fine. If I must. Here. Have fun with *THIS*.
*also thank you, Matt
As Jeff pointed out yesterday, the signing of Matt Holliday does not mean that the Cardinals have lost sight of Pujols and his impending contract year. If anything, it shows that they are clearing the air and setting up a supporting cast so they can make sure he stays put. However, I’d like to see something else happen.
See, at this moment in time the Tigers are also clearing out contracts. Granderson and Polanco are gone and despite the money they have tied up in some pretty mediocre pitching, the Tigers will have some wiggle room in 2011.
How perfect would it be if on the five year anniversary of the Cardinals beating the Tigers in the World Series, the Tigers could return the favor in pulling off the coup of the (admittedly brand new) decade by landing Pujols?
Now, I’m not saying it’s probable. I’m not even really saying it’s possible. I just think the idea of Pujols with an old English “D” on his chest is magical. And the thought of Jeff’s lurid fantasies about Albert also involving a navy blue hat with a big white “D” on it makes me smile.
Stop. Breathe. Focus.
Now, let’s look at this Matt Holliday signing for what it actually is: John Mozeliak & Co. finally growing a pair and making the St. Louis Cardinals perennial contenders for years to come.
And if you think they made this offer to Holliday without considering the task of signing Albert Pujols after 2011, then you need to be committed… or move to Wrigleyville.
Either way, Holliday is a Cardinal. And Pujols is a Cardinal.
So no more talk about a potential move by one of the big money teams to snatch up Albert and take him away from us in his upcoming free agency. It ain’t gonna happen. He ain’t nobody’s girlfriend but ours.
And I mean “girlfriend” with the utmost respect.
‘Cuz sometimes really bad things happen to girlfriends:
(Image courtesy of Skull Swap)
A long time ago, in a popped culture far, far away (let’s call it the late ’90s), there was a “talented” young fella by the name of Ma$e tearing up the hip-hop scene with sub-par sleight of hand wit and a mouthful of mushy homonyms.
You may remember him (probably not) for bringing us this gem:
Broken glass everywhere
if it ain’t about the money, Puff, I just don’t care
I’m that Goodfella fly guy, sometimes wiseguys
Spend time in H-A-W-A-I-I
(Mase can you please stop smoking lah lah?)
Puff why try? I’m a thug, I’ma die high
I be out in Jersey, puffin Hershey
Brothers ain’t worthy to rock my derby
Though I’m never drugged, I’m the venom in the club
And now he’s just venom in our memory banks. But why? Let’s take a look:
Ma$e’s main talent was convincing people that he had talent. I believed it. Sean Combs believed it. The general public believed it. In fact, there was a time when you couldn’t go anywhere without hearing a Ma$e tune. Had he the vision to keep that reality in perspective, to join powers with the then still venerable Puff Daddy, we might be talking about Ma$e as a musical superpower right now!
But we’re not.
Because Ma$e went to Ma$e’s head and at his highest of high points, Ma$e left the one label that could make him an internationally hyped megastar. No one would take him on. He floundered. Then he disappeared all together. He decided to do something different…
…by becoming a preacher?
Yep. At least, that’s the story we got.
A few years (and lots of bounced checks) later, Ma$e came crying back to the rap game… hands open, knees scarred, willing to accept any deal he could get… anything… he was signed by SRC Records.
But the problem with SRC Records was this: they couldn’t release his music because Ma$e was still contractually obligated to — yep, you guessed it — Sean “Puff Daddy/P-Diddy” Combs.
The moral of the story?
Ma$e is an idiot.
Matt Holliday, you’re not far behind.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Since writing this, Matt Holliday has agreed to a 7 year deal with
the Cardinals for $120 million. That’s mo’ money, mo’ problems… but
probably worth it. Good for you, Matt!
By now everyone knows that the Office of the Commissioner of Major League Baseball will get a fresh face in 2012 (conveniently, that is the year we’re all gonna die anyway). But just in case those thousand year old destruction theories are not accurate, let us start to think about who might be able to save baseball from another passive, tyrannical reign after King Bud Selig has gone fishing. Because as my oft cantankerous colleague, Mr. Krause, points out, King Bud dropped the ball.
To me, there are only three viable candidates. They are presented here (above right). In bronze. I think.
Two of them are dead and one of them is forever young (albeit in 2-D).
Verily, they would all be adequate replacements at the top of the grandest game on earth.
– – –
Vladimir Ilyich Lenin
Bolshevik Leader, Marxist, Revolutionary, Head of State
What’s wrong, Matt Holliday? Five years guaranteed at $16 million ain’t enough? Fine then. Mr. Holliday, you’ll be making the same salary as Wilson Betemit… if Wilson even has a job. Luxury tax? There ain’t no luxury tax. Proposed salary cap? Yeah, propose this: everybody makes the same amount of money. No matter what. You don’t like it? Then die. Die. Just die!
– – –
Talking Rodent, Steamboat Captain, World Icon, Clubhouse Leader
Woo-hoo! Baseball! Woo-hoo! Baseball! Woo-hoo! Pine tar!
– – –
What shall it profit a man if he gains the homerun record but loses his soul to ‘roids? For everyone who refrains from untucking his shirt after winning a game (talkin’ to you, Brewers) himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted. I say, I’ve fed his sheep. Now I’ll tend to them, … tend to my sheep.
– – –
Tend… these… sheep. Somebody. King Bud didn’t do a great job at tending his sheep. Somebody. Somebody just tend these goddamn sheep!
And while you’re at it, don’t hate me.
‘Cuz I’m right.
(Top image courtesy of Transgressor)