RMJ 57 April 12

We had a day game today and have a night game tomorrow for ESPN and a day game on Monday so we can get home at a reasonable hour. This is just one small example of how the marketing of the sport affects the playing of the game.

It is not easy to keep your body in sync when you play day games and night games in rapid succession. It becomes even more difficult when you play them across several time zones.

Later this month, we will fly from Houston to Montreal on Sunday; play the Expos a night game on Monday and a day game on Tuesday; then return home after the game.

The Cardinals have it even worse. They are going to play a series in Florida; fly 10 hours to Honolulu; play two games with the Padres; then fly eight hours back to St. Louis. This may be good for sales, but it will surely upset the biorhythms of the team.

The Cardinals team is a biorhythmic disaster as it is.

Yesterday, second-baseman Roberto Mejia went down with a groin pull. Now he is on the DL. He has plenty of company — and illustrious company at that.

Pitchers Danny Jackson, Andy Benes, Lance Painter, and Rick Honeycutt are on the list, along with centerfielder Ray Lankford, catcher Tom Pagnozzi, and outfielder Andy Van Slyke. Second-baseman Delino DeShields, right fielder Brian Jordan, and reserve outfielder Willie McGee are also injured and unavailable, though they have not been officially disabled.  

On our side, Sid Fernandez has a sore arm and will be examined in Houston on Tuesday. It is his day to start, so we will bring Ramon Garcia out of the bullpen to pitch, hoping he can go five innings and keep us close.

Despite all the injuries, the Cardinals have an edge on us today simply because they are starting Todd Stottlemyre, and he has been double-tough on us. He has been especially mysterious to Craig Biggio, who has only three hits in 20 at bats against the Stottlemyre slants. I left him out of the lineup today, and Cubby suggested I tell him before posting the lineup card on the clubhouse wall.

“Do you think you can do your Bagwell impersonation today?” I asked.

“You mean like this?” he said, assuming Bagwell’s stance.

“No,” I said. “I mean coming off the bench with a game-winning hit in the ninth.”

“Oh, so that’s it,” he said. “That’s cool. Whatever you want.”

I wasn’t expecting it to be so easy, and I hope it stays this way. The big thing is to win the game when the big guys are out of the lineup. Certainly, the Cardinals are in worse shape than we are, so I believe we have a good chance.

“You can stay inside where it’s warm, and scout them off the TV,” I said.

“Nope,” he said. “I gotta be out there with the boys.”

Gametime temperature was 43 degrees, and the wind brought the chill factor into the 20s. Dennis Liborio did a land-office business in long-handle underwear before the game.

The Cardinals decided to take batting practice and skip infield. We did the same. Without infield, the players got extra time to thaw out after batting practice. 

           

The game started out well for us: we got two runs in the first off Stottlemyre. A walk to our substitute second-baseman Bill Spiers got the rally going. Two more walks and a hit batter helped. Derek Bell’s double was the only hit.

When Spiers came in to score, Biggio was in front of the receiving line of players who to greet him with a high five. He turned to me and said, “you got the right guy in there today, Skip.”

I felt great about Biggio’s attitude, but I knew this was only a start. Stottlemyre’s wildness was caused by the cold weather. When it is this cold, the baseballs get slick. You feel like you’re throwing a cue ball. It slips out of your hand, and you never know quite where it is going. Before The Perfessor went down to watch Garcia warm up, I asked him to offer some advice about getting a grip.

“Get him some pine tar on the heel of his pitching hand or on his glove hand.” I advised. “Or if you have a better idea, tell him about it. Those balls are going to be slick today.”

Vern mentioned chewing-gum-and-rosin as an alternate approach. But when Garcia went to the mound, he was naked. He had no gum, no tar.

In the first inning, he walked a couple of guys, but he pitched out of trouble. In the second, he gave up back-to-back doubles and then uncorked a wild pitch. An infield grounder by Stottlemyre tied the score.

Bagwell homered in the third, and Garcia flirted with trouble but escaped for two more innings.

At this point, we were still up 3-2 and he had thrown 71 pitches, which was his allotment for the game, because he has not been in the regular rotation. I went down to the end of the bench, where he was sitting by the heater, and said, “Nice job, that’s enough for today.”

Ramón looked at me with big, sad eyes. “I can still pitch,” he said. “I’m not tired. I feel good.”

He sure had a sympathetic audience with me. A starting pitcher has to go five innings to get a win, and after investing 71 pitches in the icebox of Busch Stadium, he wanted to qualify for the win. I didn’t blame him.

I walked back to the front of the dugout and told The Perfessor. He asked if I was comfortable with him pitching another inning, and I said, “Yes.” Vern walked down and told him, but warned that if someone got on base, we would have to go to the bullpen. Well, no one got on base, and Ramon qualified, though his lead of 3-2 was precarious.

When he got back to the dugout, everyone was there to greet him. “Way to go, Chief! Nice going. Great job,” they said. Ramón is from Venezuela, but he is part Native American. He is now known as Chief, though he cannot field grounders like Cubby’s dog.

His performance in the emergency start was tremendous, especially considering the weather. I don’t think it gets this cold in his homeland, but he created a warm feeling in the dugout — without pine tar, gum, or rosin. He did not even wear a long-sleeve sweatshirt under his jersey. But he did have something more important underneath: the heart of a warrior.

We responded with a four-run explosion, capped by a bases-loaded pinch-hit triple by rookie Bobby Abreu and a sacrifice fly by Pat Listach. Spiers got a hit to start the rally, and Biggio again told me I had the right guy in there.

There was levity in the dugout, but it didn’t last long.

The Cardinals scored three quick runs off José Lima, and I had to bring in Tom Martin with a man on second and one out. I also had to bring Biggio in to play second in a double-switch. 

Martin pitched out of it, and he gave us a trouble-free seventh. With two innings to go, it was too close for comfort. I couldn’t tell if I felt shaky because of the ballgame or the weather. I went down to the end of the bench and stood by the heater. After a while I felt better.

I brought Billy Wagner in to start the eighth, and he was wild. He gave up a hit and a walk to bring the winning run to the plate, but he pitched out of it with a strikeout.

In the ninth, he did the same thing: two walks and two strikeouts.

I don’t worry too much about Wagner giving up hits, although he does give up a few. I do worry about his control.

I got John Hudek up to throw lightly in the ninth. Luckily, I didn’t need him. We won 7-5.

           

In the clubhouse after the game, Spiers asked if I had a cigar. I just happened to have a whole box, courtesy of the clubhouse manager, Jerry Risch. I took one for myself and gave the box to Billy.

“Here,” I said. Put these out there for the other guys.”

I stuck around long enough to see that eight or ten guys lingered to watch the Masters golf tournament, or in other words, the Tiger Woods Open. Several of the guys were smoking cigars.

We can’t have beer in the locker room at home, so maybe cigars will become popular and keep the guys around after the game to talk some baseball.

           

I went over to Mike Shannon’s restaurant and appeared on his talk show. After that, I had a beer with Jim Fregosi at the bar. As the manager of the Phillies, Fregosi left his starting pitchers in the game longer than any other manager. I admired him for that, because he was bucking the trend and had to take some criticism when it didn’t work out. It did work out well enough for the Phils to win the pennant in 1993 with a mediocre pitching staff.

Fregosi was a shortstop, and I asked him about infield positioning with a lefthanded hitter up and a man on first with less than two outs.

“I don’t give up the hole on the pull side,” he said. “If you cheat on the left side, the worst that can happen on a single is men on first and second. If you cheat on the right side, they can go first-to-third.”

This is exactly what I wanted to hear. I need to remember to tell Biggio, Spiers, Listach, and Bogar about this conversation tomorrow.

 

Gerry and I walked over to Tony’s Restaurant to meet three writers from the Chronicle. One of them, Dale Robertson, is an expert on wine. He has traveled all over Europe exploring the grapes. Gerry is a wine aficianado as well. They talked wine for the two hours of the meal — and a great meal it was.

The conversation didn’t make me want to bone up on wine, but it did make me want to go to Europe and try some. Gerry said, “When we win the pennant, we’ll go.” It’s a little early, but that is a great incentive. Perhaps I can have it added to my contract. Naw.

“I think having you in this position can really help us with the media,” Gerry said, as we walked back to the hotel.

 “You might be right,” I said. “As long as we keep winning.”