I haven't been a seen presence in the community, so it's presumptuous to create a fanpost, particularly when it's devoid of insight, statistics or poetry.  Alas, I've had a few beers (not a connoisseur, but I'm enjoying a Hoegaarden at the moment) and after a night full of that beautiful brand of anxiety that postseason-baseball-when-you-care-about-the-team offers, I want to say something (and my cats won't pay attention right now.)  So come along on a journey:  I'll type some words and even try to make sense (no promises).

Continue reading this post »

Dear Diary,

Excuse me, diary, for the frivolity.  

And forgive me for being so forward with the details of such an unappetizing abnormality, but each offseason my body goes through a tortuous fourteen week cycle of expansion, rashes, reduction, boils, inexplicable sunburn, hammerfist, gas, and finally, locusts.  This series of miseries enables me to forecast without fail the rudimentary rate and counting stats of certain beloved Cardinals.  I have found one foil to my infallibility:  injuries.  Only the proverbial or literal strained groined fogs up my mucus-filmed future-seeing machine.  Combat your curiosity by following me into the void:

Continue reading this post »

Dear Diary,

I've long been an admirer of this site, but, up till now, reluctant to fan my own of wafts of wisdom into the flaming pyre we've erected in remembrance of this spectacularly grim (for baseball) season.  Many times I've been tempted.  Once, with Scott Rolen homerless and on deck, I smelt the undeniably reek of the longball.  I hurried to create an account so that I might shout adjective-laden descriptions of my prophetic vision.  Of course, Internet offered her typical acid-spewing hurdles, and so I was denied my chance at infamy.  

Anyway, I've been compelled to tiptoe into the fray.  So I'm going to try this:

Continue reading this post »