When I walked into my brother’s house for dinner, he asked me one question.
“What did Madonna name her daughter?”
“Lourdes,” I said.
Instantly that answer put me on the Trivial Pursuit dream team. All I needed to qualify was one right answer.
Hell, if that’s how things work, ask me another question. Quick. Ask me if Africa’s a country.
The answer’s “no.”
Now I'm qualified to run for President.
Here’s another question: Are you currently pitching in the MLB?
Pedro Martinez can talk the talk and walk the walk, but can he still pitch?
Who knows. No one else was interested enough to give him a contract this year, but the Phillies aren’t worried, they’re only shelling out a million dollars.
A million dollars?! Hey, that’s a lot of money to me. I think I’m qualified to pitch. Quick, ask me a question.
What is the air speed velocity of an unladen swallow?
African or European Swallow?
No really, I can pitch. I’ve spent hours doing that on the phone.
Wait, my husband said that’s not pitching, it’s bitc… Okay, you get the point. But that’s how quickly mistakes are made. It’s like trying to fart but accidentally pooping your pants. You just hope it happens close to home.
But Rodrigo Lopez, JA Happ, Antonio Bastardo, or Carlos Carrosco might be looking for a new one. Someone’s got to go. Lopez made his case as a starter in the minors before they were confident enough to bring him up, and Happ has the best stats of anyone in the rotation: he’s 6-0 with a sub three ERA, 6’6”, 200 pounds, brown eyes, nice smile, long thighs…
I’m sorry, was I thinking out loud?
To me, the necessity of needing more pitchers, like the need for radan testing, is questionable.
Forming a pitching staff isn’t as easy as pouring my amorphous breasts into pre-formed cups to make them look bulbous. Pitching is something you can’t fake. And trust me, I know something about that. You can’t mold pitchers like you’re pouring Jello shots. Even though they’re a sweet tasty treat, the side effects are hell—you wake up with no pants and your name’s been changed.
And someone knows you lied about your bra size.
After last night’s win over the Marlins, maybe “Cold” Hamels finally warmed up for good but why isn’t Disturbin’ Durbin looking for a home? And let’s face it. Eight of the 12 pitchers on the Phil’s active roster are over 30 years old. So let’s pick up Martinez, a guy who’s 37, and go after Halladay, a man who’s 32. Don’t get me wrong, I love older men—they’re mature and experienced, and if they need a little performance enhancer to give them a boost, I can wait a few minutes for it to kick in. I have some dishes to do.
What’s my point? I don’t think getting starting pitchers is more important than starting pitchers getting it done. Can they just do the job? That’s a question for Pedro Martinez. That’s really a question for the entire staff. And if they pick up Halladay, how long will he be effective?
As long as Jamie Moyer? Moyer is great against the Marlins especially when his cousin, Little Jack Horner, is behind the plate giving him the corners.
But every pitcher at some point this season has looked like they need a better reason to perform. That’s why I advocate for cheerleaders. Usually money’s the incentive but with the average annual player salary at $3.2 million, it seems like other “figures” need to take the stage.
The excuse before the All-Star break was that the bullpen was overworked but last night’s performance wasn’t an indication of a rested one. Chan Ho Park, Ryan Madson, and Brad Lidge split four of the five earned runs while Disturbin’ Durbin drove up his blood pressure with two hits and two walks in his one plus innings. Fortunately Clay Condrey was activated from the DL to close down an inning and Scott Eyre finally recovered from a pulling a calf while reaching for his beer.
And fortunately the offense didn’t fold when the bullpen did. The 6-5 win in 12 innings put the Phillies ahead by six games in the NL East and increased their winning streak to seven.
That’s not quite the streak I’d like to see Shane Victorino complete out across the field, but hey, a girl can dream.
A girl? How old are you anyway, you ask?
Like I told you last year, I’m 39.
Quick ask me another question.