Charlie Manuel, Man of Mystery

I was wide awake at 5:30 this morning. I jumped out of bed, ran downstairs, and frantically began clicking through site after site hoping to find today's lineup somewhere. No cigar. All Uncle Cholly has revealed to the press - you know, the sports bloggers that matter, is the following:

"We've got a lineup. We have a left fielder, a first baseman, a second baseman, a catcher."

Today's lineup against the Pirates doesn't really matter all that much. It'll probably be John Mayberry Jr. or Ty Wiggington at first, Freddy Galvis (or is it Galveeees?) at second, and either Juan Pierre or Layce Nix in left field if Mayberry's at first. One thing that's certain outside of the Whos, Whats, and I Don't Knows is that Doc will return to the bump at 1:35 PM.

I'm just glad that the part of my brain that gave me fuzzy, nervous Christmas morning feelings as a seven-year-old still works. Baseball's so much easier to believe in.

Happy Opening Day!

This just in:

This Just In: Professionals Still Somewhat Better Than Amateurs!

Baseball's back! In an exhibition game yesterday, the Phillies beat the Florida State Seminoles 6-1. The game was tied until the seventh inning which started with back-to-back hits by Pete Orr and Eric Kratz. Other highlights of the game included the first hit of the season for the Phillies by some dude named Tuffy Gosewisch, Hector Luna's two-run blast, and eight scoreless innings pitched by young arms hoping for AAA date cards. From the regular guys, Hunter Pence chimed in with a double in the fourth inning and Domonic Brown hit Big Truck's big truck during batting practice earlier in the day.

I know, I know. Exhibition games against college teams don't really matter to anyone outside of that young or old pitcher given a shot at the majors and the 2009 Manatee Community College baseball team that beat the Pittsburgh Pirates 6-4. I'm just happy to read a fresh box score.

Tune in this Saturday as the Phillies take on the Yankees who once played an exhibition game against my own hometown's heroes, the 1947 Waterbury Timers. It won't be '47 Phil Rizzuto, Yogi Berra, and Joltin' Joe or the '09 Manatees against Cole and the Gang, but it'll still be a good sneak peek of baseball to come!

Any predictions on who will be the team to beat in 2012? Greg Dobbs has already done J-Roll's whole "we're the team to beat" schtick which I'm pretty sure won't work twice. Leave it in the comments!

Keep On, Keep On

It's Valentine's Day. Unfortunately, not everyone's going to be receiving a Chooch valentine this year. But, hey, that's okay. Philadelphia's a land of underdogs that have been known to come back approximately two out of every three times according to the movies.

That's good news for J-Roll's pal and new Phillies reliever, Dontrelle Willis. 2003's Rookie of the Year is coming off a 1-6 season with the Reds and a 5.00 ERA. Still, D-Train was pretty good against southpaw hitters in 2011, and is another pitcher that can hit! Let's just hope that he's feeling strong now. Word is he's been down in Clearwater for weeks.

Don't be another "bum from the neighborhood" this year. When life gets you down, be like Dontrelle Willis and the city of Philadelphia.... start a soul train.

The sky is the limit and I know that you can have what you want, be what you want

Happy Valentine's Day from the ladies of Scoring Position!

Update: The D-Train has left the station.

The Learned Helplessness Theory of Being a Nationals Fan

The Nationals want to take back Citizen's Bank Park South.

Outside of the slow attempt to turn the Nationals into a "legitimate contender"/the World Fuckin' Champions of '08 (Matt Stairs, Jayson Werth, Brad Lidge, and now Chad Durbin to a minor league contract!?!), the Nationals recently launched the "Take Back the Park" campaign in an attempt to draw in as many Nationals fans as possible by restricting ticket pre-sales to their first home series against the Phils only to residents of Maryland, DC, or Virginia. Sorry, Bob Casey and everyone else in the lovely state that you represent!

Strangely enough, I first heard about the "Take Back the Park" campaign last week while at a bioethics talk titled, "Toward a 'Science' of Torture?". While the talk was about interrogation methods designed by the C.I.A. and not the psychology behind being a Nationals fan, I couldn't help but think about the Nationals every time the term "learned helplessness" was thrown around - you know, the psychological state where people feel powerless to change their situation. It didn't help that the nerdy-looking academic leading the discussion on "torture" was wearing a Phillies cap with his suit and walked in chanting "Let's go Phillies" to himself before telling the entire room about "Take Back the Park". In fact, one of the last things he said before the talk began, probably to make the room aware of his qualifications, was something along the lines of, "Well, guess what, Nationals? I am both a lifelong Phillies fan and live in DC! I'll just buy all the tickets!"

The room was silent. I looked around. I was the only person listening, let alone smiling.

While there's no need to fear that there will be a lack of Phillies fans torturing Nationals fans at this series due in large part, to this guy beating the system, it still makes you wonder if the rivalry the Nationals are trying to stir up makes any sense - that is, unless the Phillies inexplicably can't win a World Series 86 years after trading away Jayson Werth.

But, seriously, Nats, why not invest in continuing to keep your rivalry with the Orioles alive instead? If anyone needs a reason to love baseball right now, it's people from Baltimore. Plus, the Orioles-Nationals rivalry is much more well-founded. There's the annual "Beltway Series", a history of drama over the Baltimore-Washington baseball market, and the controversy over shouting O! during the national anthem.

Let's not forget the rich history of the Washington Nationals that goes all the way back to 2005. While a lot's changed since Ryan Zimmerman joined a team of displaced Canadians in our country's capital (I'm talkin' about the Expos, but this sweet picture of Pete Orr as a Natty beau seems relevant), it doesn't really compare to the history of Phillies. The Whiz kids! The Vet! The sweet memory of what bar you were in and who you high fived that fateful night in 2008! I've only been in this city for six years, and the history of baseball is somehow now intertwined with my own personal history. I'm not sure you could say the same for most Nationals fans.

Perhaps, a better question than, "Why the Phillies, Nationals?" or, "Seriously?!?" is, "What Phillies team of the past would provide a more even match-up?" After all, if anyone knows about "learned helplessness", it's Phillies fans. This probably explains why Nationals fans are being hazed to begin with.

Lights Out Lidge

Wednesday, October 29th, 2008. Was it all a dream? Now that Brad Lidge has officially signed a one-year deal with the Washington Nationals, that final knees-to-the-ground, hands-to-the-sky World Series win against the Rays seems like a distant memory.

In his four seasons with the Phillies, Lidge racked up 100 saves, mostly thanks to that perfect 48-for-48 2008. While Lidge is "disappointed" that the Phillies are not keeping him around for another season, it's almost fitting that out of all of Game 5's strange heroes, he's the last to fade from the sandlot, Citizen's Bank Park, after giving Eric Hinske the slider.

Lidge's fate with Jayson Werth on the Phillies South doesn't seem so bad when you look at who else was partially responsible for that Game 5 win. When the game resumed that Wednesday, tied in the bottom of the sixth, Geoff Jenkins set the tone for paradin' with a lead off double, his only hit of the post-season, and was later scored by Werth. The Rays then quickly retied the game in the top of the seventh only to have Pat Burrell lead off the bottom of the seventh with another double. Eric Bruntlett, pinch-running for Pat the Bat, was then scored on a game-winning single by Pedro Feliz.

Where are they now? Pat Burrell went on to play the role of "The Machine" for Brian Wilson. Eric Bruntlett, whose batting average was often announced on a local radio show whenever it was, give or take 10 minutes, around 2:15 P.M. BST (Bruntlett Standard Time), is now kickin' it as a stay-at-home dad. And Pedro Feliz spent last summer across the bridge playing ball for the Camden Riversharks, a team not affiliated with the MLB, but affiliated with a mascot known as Mr. Trash.

As for Lidge, he's earned himself a certain level of respect/free-drinks-until-you-die in Philadelphia because of 2008 - he and the anxiety that so easily forced another round of drinks on an entire city whenever he put runners on base in the ninth only to strike out the last batter with his slider. Even in Game 5, he quickly gave up a single and a stolen base only to "lights out" Hinske. It makes you wonder if Philly losing Lidge will offset the revenue that's expected to be generated from the proposed plan of keeping bars open one hour later to fund the city's schools. No one gave the city agita like Brad Lidge. He kept us nervous, and it made everything more exciting. On that note, I'd like to end with something I jotted down in an old notebook on "October 16, 2009":

I had my first “Lights Out” Lidge shot last night. A glass of Jim Beam slid down the bar and unexpectedly slowed to a stop in front of me. The guy to my right, covered in Phillies red from head to toe, looked deep into my eyes and shouted, “Lights Out Lidge! C’mon, lady!” We hit our glasses on the bar, cheersed, and Brad Lidge successfully closed out Game 1 of the NLCS against the Dodgers.

Brad Lidge, I will think of you every time that nervous knot forms in the pit of my stomach, the one that's only quieted by one more beer or an end of the night shot with some random stranger who works at the airport.

Heroes get remembered, but legends never die.

Jimmy Mack, Are You Coming Back?

Holiday shopping's in premature full swing again this year, and every mom out there's setting up camp for an All-Star shortstop. It makes you wonder. Who will be getting a 32-year-old Jimmy Rollins come winter? The Giants? The Cards? The Brewers? Can you picture J-Roll going into "beast mode"? Me neither. What about the Phillies? Unless Uncle Ruben takes a second job wrapping gifts this holiday season, chances are that Jimmy's not going to get that five-year contract he has his heart set on. If only regifting Ryan Howard was a viable option! After all, National Regifting Day is just 23 short days away.

What will Ruben Amaro do? The man's full of surprises. I didn't expect Cliff Lee to return to Philadelphia within a year of leaving or for Hunter Pence to be chilling on a dirt road anywhere outside of Texas right now. I also didn't expect Madson to be traded for a slightly more expensive Irish step dancer that refers to himself as Cinco Ocho. Okay, okay. Maybe I'm just drinking the Haterade which, thankfully, is what Papelbon's alter ego "fuels his engines with", or maybe I just hate change. Heck! I don't know what I want. The only thing that's really certain is how it's hard to picture Jimmy Rollins playing short anywhere else, and almost impossible to imagine who would replace him.

What The Ph?!!

Too heartbroken to blog: that's how I've been feeling since Friday night. It's taken days just to start thinking about it. Who would've thought it could end this way? Who would've thought that a team like this—once favorites to win the 2011 World Series—would be knocked out in the first round of the playoffs? I'll tell you who: any Philadelphia sports fan. Given Philadelphians' congenital penchant for pessimism in regard to all things (but especially sports), the Phils' steady regression since their magical 2008 championship season (lost the 2009 World Series, 2010 NLCS, and now 2011 NLDS), and the true meaning of "homefield advantage" in division series that go five games (here's a hint: the home teams usually lose), I doubt most of Philly was all that surprised. But that doesn't mean our hearts didn't break.

So what the Ph happened?!! Cliff Lee and Roy Oswalt couldn't get it done. Our bullpen (with the exception of Ryan Madson and maybe Brad Lidge) was revealed for the farce it was. After getting our hopes up that his postseason power had returned, Ryan Howard assured us we were mistaken, then ended the season in, quite literally, a crumbled heap. The squirrels of St. Louis put a curse on our bats. Someone really needs to tell the Phillies that there's no honor in playing hurt when "playing hurt" means grounding out to shortstop four times (cough cough, Placido Polanco).

Most of all, Tony La Russa and his hair solidly out-managed Charlie Manuel and his gut. Charlie played game five like he had plenty of time to spare; the Cardinals played every inning like it was their last. Charlie continued to let aging, aching players make fools of themselves at the plate while John Mayberry Jr. stood in the dugout, looking like he was about to burst into tears. As much as we love Charlie, I have to admit it would've been satisfying to wake up Saturday morning and hear he'd been fired.

The four aces may have carried this team to the best record in franchise history, but they couldn't win us a best-of-five series against the hot-hitting, Phillie-killing Cardinals. (Especially when our own pathetic offense couldn't manage to score any runs.) I can't help but think: what if we could just go back in time and lose the last game of the season to Atlanta? Did we do this to ourselves? Did we break our own hearts? And why are we going to do it again next year?


Maybe the postseason—at least in its current structure—is just a bad gauge of the actual abilities of a baseball team. Our 102 wins should be able to speak for themselves. Not that telling ourselves that is going to make our hearts any less broken.

Chin on the Ground? Gettin' Low? Back to the Wall? Feelin' Bad?

Dear Philadelphia,

Pick your head up. Friday's just around the corner. Game 5 with Doc on the mound- you know, the one in which Doc saves the season. How's that for a storybook ending before a storybook ending before a storybook ending? We have our dreams!

Let's come out swinging. Let's go out swinging too. Pray for no squirrels and more baseball.

High apple pie in the sky hopes,

Lauren and Nadine

Lance Berkman Totally Looks Like Shrek

Of all the things I'm sick of already about the St. Louis Cardinals (Tony La Russa, cheerleaders, Albert Pujols...), I'm mostly sick of looking at Lance Berkman's face. Let's hope Roy O and the Phillies send this troll back to his swamp tonight! Game starts at 6:00 EDT.

I Leave My Heart To Ben Francisco

It's bound to go by the end of this series if you keep this up, Fightins. Thank you, Ben, for coming through with RISP and for not being Ross Gload in the top of the seventh. Thank you, Cole, for bringing your game face. Thank you, Mad Dog, for finally getting Ryan Theriot to ground out to end the ninth. I'm halfway to a heart condition and it's only round one. This tune probably best describes the strange trip the Phillies took me on in the last three innings of their nail biting 3-2 victory over the Cards:

What a game! What a birthday present for Tony LaRussa. Let's just hope that it won't be Charlie's turn to cry anytime soon. Some dude in a bar probably said it best when he said, "October? That's when the whole city will start inhaling and exhaling together."

It's time to exhale. Have a beer. Put on some Hall and Oates. Whatever works. We've got an important game to win tomorrow.