Here's somethng for all you cardinal fanatics. Play by play for the first inning of today's game. Enjoy.
Brady Clark hits the first pitch for a line drive into Left Field. So Taguchi catches the ball in his teeth, completely swallows the baseball.
Umpires confer.
Jeff Cirillo falls behind in the count. Goes back to the dugout and brings out an oversized wiffle ball bat.
Waves it menacingly. Carpenter ready.
Called strike three. 2 away.
Swing and a miss! Carp strikes out the side!
I bleed Red and Blue
for my Cardinals baseball
my Ford and You
anything else baby just won't do
I love my Cardinals my Ford and You.
Line drive homerun by grudz!
Line drive double to center by Larry Walker!
Albert Pujols up.
Bares his teeth at the Milwaukee pitcher.
Fouls a couple off.
Steps out. Punches himself in the jaw, hard.
Steps back in.
Walker pulls a sweat rag out and begins polishing his head. Pujos grabs his crotch and flips off opposing teams' batboy. Crowd goes nuts.
Pujols gets a base hit to right, Walker distracted by polishing his head, must stop at 3rd.
Oquendo pokes him with a pointed stick and shouts at him in Spanish.
First and third.
Fearing Albert's blazing speed, the pitcher keeps throwing to first.
Albert picks up dirt and rubs it all over his face, attempting to camoflauge himself.
EDMONDS doubles! Pujols stealthily moves to third. Walker polishing his head again but makes it home easily.
Rolen walks. Bases loaded.
So Taguchi coming up to bat.
Taguchi wearing a Zorro-type mask today.
Taguchi takes a strike.
Steps out, points his bat at the pitcher, waves his bat and makes a Zorro-style Z in the air.
Taguchi steps back in.
Taguchi pops it up. Infield fly rule.
Taguchi bows to pitcher. Goes back to dugout, apologizes to teammates. Throws Zorro mask in the trash, picks up Richard Nixon mask.
Nunez up. Fall behind 0-2.
Molina on deck. Molina crying quietly to himself.
Nunez steps out. Realizes shoes on our wrong feet.
Calls time, unties cleats and switches them to opposite feet.
Ground out, force at 2nd, Nunez speeds down line courtesy of his corrected shoes and beats throw.
Molina comes to bat, weeping silently.
Molina flies out to right.
Knowing he would make an out, he was still dressed in his complete catcher's equipment so he just squats behind the plate.
Somebody else wrote all that. Not me. I'm sure none of you read it anyway.
He swims. He gnaws. He builds dams. He moves us with his intelligence and grace. He is the Wily Beaver. And he is here to INTUBATE us all.
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
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