Stuff That Sucks: Volume IV

suckIt’s been awhile since we’ve paid a visit to my favorite cranky cat, so I’m going to sharpen up a nice stick and poke him with it. No time to waste!

Adam Wainwright on the Road – I was watching ESPN yesterday and they were doing an analysis of Waino’s home and away records this season. He’s 10-0 at home and 4-6 on the road. To break this down further, he’s given up only 2 homers, 11 earned runs and 15 walks at Busch, but sprinkled 9 homers, 27 earned runs and 24 walks across the rest of the country. This guy REALLY likes to play in St. Louis. And listen, I can respect that. But unless he’s able to develop the stamina necessary to pitch entire homestands, I suggest he pull himself together and learn an appreciation for travel. SOMEONE GET HIM A ZAGAT GUIDE!

Flying – Speaking of traveling, I’ve actually done quite a bit of that myself over the past month or so with varying degrees of success. I got held up with weather delays, mechanical delays, “oh-crap-the-plane-isn’t-here” delays, spontaneous Southwest employee dance party delays, etc. I would rather stick a curling iron in my ear than go back to O’Hare airport right now and stand in line for security. That place is like a black hole/concentration camp hybrid from which there is no escape.

Roy Oswalt Rumors – You know what? I wish I’d heard nothing about Oswalt’s interest in St. Louis. As the trade deadline approaches and a move for the Astro’s ace seems less and less likely, I find myself being disproportionately disgruntled. I mean, there weren’t any guarantees, so I have no idea why I got myself all emotionally invested in the fairy tale. The fact that I allowed myself to indulge in elaborate fantasies about Waino, Carp and Oswalt combining forces in the post-season is my own stupid fault. Yet, I find myself irrationally offended as the situation swings against the Cardinals’ favor. I’m a huge jackass.

Trying to Be Responsible – I had the distinct pleasure of attending a concert with a few of my favorite ladies this past Saturday. This being close to an hour drive away and us being borderline alcoholics, we weren’t confident in our abilities to get to and from the concert on our own volition. Therefore, we decided to be grown ups and hire ourselves a car service to get us to the show and back. Naturally, the fine folks responsible for our trip bungled the reservation, which I handled with about as much patience and dignity as that reserved for cable company employees. DAMN YOU, STRETCH LIMO OF CHICAGO! That was precious drinking time you stole from me!

Johan Santana’s First Inning Against the Cardinals’ Bipolar Bats – Woooboy! That was fun! (Not least of all because it gave me the opportunity to watch Yadier Molina run the bases, which I happen to find endlessly entertaining.) LOOK HOW GOOD WE ARE, GUYS!!! That half inning was a nice change of pace after nearly throwing a lamp through my TV during both Saturday and Sunday’s games. (How many baserunners got stranded in Chicago, anyway? GEESH.) Of course, I was back to screaming my head off like someone had impaled me with a rake by the bottom of the eighth inning (BOGGGGGGSSSSSSSS!!!), but still. That was a very special time for me.

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