RMJ 150 July 15
I couldn’t sleep last night, and I ended up finishing Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil about four a.m. I was a little groggy when I awoke at 9:30, and I didn’t have much time to get checked out and on my way to Wrigley.
The first person I saw when I entered the clubhouse gave me a broad, toothy smile: it was José Cabrera. It’s amazing how fast these guys can travel when they get called up.
Thank goodness we didn’t have one of those business-fan’s specials at 12:30. The game was to start at 1:20, and we even had time to finish the pitcher interviews before infield practice.
Derek was griping about having to take infield, and Cubby got pissed.
“This isn’t optional,” he said. “It’s a team thing. Everybody does it.”
I agreed with him, but I cringed when he said it. I had already given Biggio and Bagwell permission to skip infield, because of their injuries the night before. I let Ausmus miss as well, because he caught all 15 innings.
When I went down to check and see if anyone else would skip out, Derek was right behind me.
“We need a new third-base coach,” he said. I clenched my teeth and ignored him.
I wanted to turn and say, “What we really need is a right fielder.”
As it turned out, Bagwell and Ausmus took infield. Biggio was not in the lineup, and he got mad about that.
Here we go again.
Today’s game wasn’t nearly as rowdy as last-night’s affair. D.K. was on the hill for us against Kevin Foster.
They got three in the fourth on a homer by Shawon Dunston. It was one of only a few bad pitches Darryl made. In the meantime, Foster was cutting through our lineup like a barber, striking out batters right and left.
We finally got to him in the seventh inning. Four hits brought two runs home, and left runners at first and third with one out. I called Biggio up to hit for Bogar, and he struck out.
Eyebrows were raised when I let Kile hit for himself. He struck out too.
I let Kile hit because we had two more chances to tie the game, but we could not allow the Cubs to score again. With the state of our bullpen, I couldn’t see making a pitching change.
We threatened in the eighth, but did not score. Kile shut them down, and when we came up in the ninth it was still 3-2. Berry got an infield hit, and Biggio walked with one out.
I put Mouton in to run for Berry, and I brought Spiers up to hit for Kile. Billy got down in the count and then hit a dramatic home run to left-center. We were up 5-3, but I had no fresh pitchers, save Cabrera. José gave up a single and then got an out. The Cubs pinch-hit with Dave Clark. I took a chance that Magnante had two more outs left in him.
He did, and we won to get back to .500.
| Tm | W | L | W-L% | GB | RS | RA | pythW-L% |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| PIT | 47 | 45 | .511 | — | 383 | 423 | .455 |
| HOU | 47 | 47 | .500 | 1.0 | 414 | 398 | .518 |
It turned out to be a pretty good trip: four wins and two losses.
When I got back to the clubhouse, I learned that Loel Passe had died. Loel was the first announcer for the Astros. He was a homespun Alabaman with more local color than a bag of jellybeans.
“The three-two pitch. Swung on and missed! He breezed him one more time. Now you chunkin’ in there, Larry boy! Hot ziggedy dog, an’ sassafras tea! The Astros still lead 2-1.”
Loel was the ultimate home-team broadcaster, and Houston fans will never forget his unique style. I know he would have liked this series with the Cubs; he would be hootin’ and hollerin’ all the way home, like this:
The trip home was spirited, as you might imagine. I talked with Gerry about Irene and Judy, and a lot of things outside of baseball.
When I got home, Judy wasn’t there; she and Ryan were delayed on their trip back from California. I noticed that the dogs had torn the upholstery off a chair in my office, and they had uprooted several plants in the back yard.
If we had lost in Chicago, the pups may have had hell to pay. As it was, I just laughed.
Judy came in about half-an-hour behind me.
“Happy anniversary,” I said. “I didn’t get you a thing, not even a card.”
“That’s all right,” she said. “I didn’t get you anything, either. Maybe we can have a nice dinner when you get back.”
She knew we weren’t going to have any time on this homestand. We have a game tomorrow night, another on Thursday afternoon, and then it’s off to Montreal.