Cub Fan Palette Cleanser

It's time to wash away the angst, Cubs fans. Let's forget about the beer throwing, name calling, justice bringing, and massive failing. Let's have a Superman day, mmmKay? Press play, watch, and repeat until you feel spring fresh.

Stat of the Week: Milton Bradley 2, MB's Revenge

Here's a Rhorshack test for you: What does this image make you think of? Sosa? Marquis? Bradley? Jay Johnstone? Right now I see only the first number, because Milton Bradley belongs in the 2 slot of the batting order. Since Lou made Milton 2nd in command, here's what his stats look like:

.476 BA; .542 OBP; .619 SLG; 1.161 OPS; 5 G, 3 R, 3 RBI

This is a small statistical sampling, I know. But Milton's OBP is .400 for the year. His SLG is .402. He belongs near the top of the lineup, $10 million be damned. And statistics aside, the #2 hole just may be the lowest-pressure spot in baseball. It's perfect for him.

Coincidentally, Kosuke Fukudome is making a killing as a leadoff platoon man. Here are his numbers as the Cubs offensive front man:

.325 BA; .439 OBP; .550 SLG; .989 OPS; 22 G (1 as a replacement); 15 R; 2 HR; 12 RBI

If you want a reason to be optimistic about the Cubs playoff hopes, these guys provide lots. Milton and Fukudome have each produced an average of more than 1 run per game in their new homes in the lineup. They're on base all the time. If they keep this up (or anything close to this) it is highly probable that their run production will increase.

I know this season has been a roller coaster, but there are plenty of signs that the rest of the ride could be a lot of fun (with a lot less puking on ourselves).

Milton Bradley's Fate (and Swing) in His Hands

Yesterday looked like a resurrection game for Milton Bradley. He went 4-5 with an RBI (3-4 from the left) and is 7-11 in the series against the Rockies. So why would I pick today to critique his hitting? Why would I come down hard on a guy who is currently enjoying his best offensive (and, in some ways, least offensive) surge of the season?

Because Milton's one out in yesterday's games epitomized the secret of his struggles. Cue the video.

The movie is old, but the story stays the same. In the critically acclaimed film, Milton Bradley Breaks Bat Over Knee, Milton Bradley plays himself as a Padre. At the 0:52 mark, you can see a moving scene in which the oft misunderstood slugger strikes out as a left-handed batter and then shows the audience that the film is not at all ironically titled.

I bring up this clip to help, not to embarrass. Pay close attention to Milton's hands as the pitch approaches the plate. He's moving his hands up and back, which is what he did in his one failed at-bat of yesterday's game. He also strikes out in this video, which is what he did in that at-bat yesterday. He then breaks his bat in frustration, which . . . you get the idea.

I've noticed it a lot lately. When Milton whiffs from the left side, his hands are invariably moving backward (and usually a tad upward) before he starts his swing. I'm no batting coach, but that can't help. Normally when you swing the bat, forward hand movement is advantageous.

Still, I wondered if I was only noticing this backward technique on bad LH at-bats and forgiving it the other 23% of the time. But as this video clip from cubs.com shows, Milton doesn't always move his hands backward when he swings . . . just when he misses or gets freakishly jammed (and usually in high-pressure RBI situations like yesterday's K).

When Milton is most successful, he drops his hands slightly before swinging, sometimes a little backward, but never as pronounced as the epic-fail swings at crunch time. Actually, from the right he hardly moves his hands at all before swinging.

So there it is, Milton. I advise you to adopt some kind of trigger/timing mechanism involving dropping your hands so that you avoid these counterproductive activities before (and after . . . dear Lord, someone stop the maple carnage) your swings. Other than that, keep up the good work against the Rockies.

Let the Pictures Tell the Story

I've really got nothing to say about the Cubs right now, other than I hope they win. So here's a brilliant bit of photography from the geniuses at the Windy Pixel. Enjoy (and buy).

Pujols Impressions

When I saw the situation, I knew and everybody in the world knew what was going to happen. Bases loaded. Two outs. Albert Pujols at the plate in the 10th. Cardinals leading 8-7. 0-2 count. . . . Against the Mets.

The grand slam came as a shock to absolutely no one. It wasn't the game winner, but it was assurance to Cub fans everywhere that A) the Cubs would have to share 1st place with the Cardinals for one more day and B) Albert Pujols is ridiculous.

Now some people claim there's no way Albert Pujols is on steroids. To me, that's the cry of hope drowning out the voice of reason. But it doesn't matter. Pujols is playing on a level playing field against other men who all want to win, to succeed, to put up gaudy numbers, and to be the best. And right now, those other men look like boys. In their eyes, Albert Pujols is in another league of manhood.

In the eyes of my son, however, Albert Pujols is just a funny name. At the Cubs game last week in which Randy Wells seemed to be coating his pitches with fly-ball repellent, I was trying to teach my almost-six-year-old son one of the finer points of the game. Koyie Hill was up with two outs, and even on their way to a 12-0 win, the Cubs would really like to see him reach base so that Randy Wells could bat this inning and turn the lineup over for the next. Randy Wells, I said, isn't the best hitter in the world.

"So who is the best hitter in the world?" my son asked.

Here I faced the first of several moral dilemmas: Do I tell my son the truth, or do I let my disdain for all things Cardinal cloud my answer? Reluctantly, I blurted out the truth: "Well, I hate to say it, but he plays for the Cardinals. It's Albert Pujols."

Instantly, my son burst into irrepressible belly laughter. Between loud giggles and desperate gasps for air, he managed to repeat with inquisitive hilarity, "Poo holes? Poo holes?!!?"

And then came the next moral dilemma: Do I laugh with him at Albert's unfortunate given name, or do I tell him to A) not make fun of people for their names and B) avoid the scatological humor (a lesson at which I'm a horrible example)? I did my best. After all, my wife was watching.

"Son," I said, trying to suppress my own giggle-snorts, "I know it's a funny sounding name, but it's not nice to make fun of people's names like that. Be nice, and use nice words."

He laughed. A lot. He's a restless little boy, and that joke kept him in his seat for three innings. (When he needs to make someone laugh, he'll ask, "Hey, do you know who plays for the St. Louis Cardinals?" I can't stop him.) But he did soon ask me if . . . that guy, was really the best hitter in the world.

Next dilemma: Do I tell him about steroids? Do I take advantage of my son's impressionable mind by filling him with more anti-Cardinal prejudice? Or do I gloss over what I believe to be reasonable suspicions to protect that part of his innocence left untouched by Pujols jokes? I tried to be honest:

"Yeah, he's the best. Some people think he cheats, but it's pretty hard to prove either way."

"How could he cheat?"

"Taking special medicine. Kind of like if Harry Potter took Felix Felicis before a Quidditch match."

"Oh." Then he paused and reflected for a moment, thoughtfully, deeply. "Poo holes! Bwah!"

That Pujols grand slam brought back this story, because I realized so much of baseball is our perspective. What are we watching? What do we hope to see? What do we fear? Our expectations and biases and viewpoints can drastically alter what we see and how we experience the game.

There are still two full months of baseball left, but Cub fans are scoreboard watching as if 101 years hang on every game. It's probably not the best approach. It's exacerbated by the virtual tie with our nemesis.

Even the rivalry brings out some of the worst in us: the urge to demean and deride the other team and their fans (guilty); the temptation to stick pins into our Matt Holliday voodoo dolls (I'm waiting); the tendency to equate the Cubs with good and the Cardinals with evil. Even the steroids issue often hinges on the damage a new revelation would inflict: I'd get some satisfaction seeing a using Cardinal outed, but I would instinctively defend any Cub who got named.

I guess it just helps to remember that these are people. Not gods, not devils. It's best not to worship them or hate them. Sit back, enjoy the game for what it is, and turn your attention and passion to things that truly matter.

Like teaching your kid to stop shouting, "Poo Holes!!!" in mixed company.

Sean Marshall: The New Closer?

I'm just going to list some facts. Not even stats. Just facts. You draw your own conclusions.

• Kevin Gregg has struggled lately. He struggled earlier, too. In between all that struggling, he was pretty good.
• Carlos Marmol is somewhat undependable. He has great stuff. Sometimes that stuff makes it into the strike zone. The Carlos situation seems to get worse in the 9th inning.
• John Grabow looks like the Cubs' new lefty specialist/jam remover.
• Sean Marshall used to be the Cubs' only lefty specialist/jam remover, and he's been great in that situation all year.
• Sean Marshall has looked very good in high-pressure situations.
• The Cubs might want to try somebody else at closer.
• I wouldn't mind seeing the Cubs winning in the 9th inning with a guy named Sean Marshall on the mound with the potential to earn himself a save and the Cubs a win.

That's all I'm saying.

Two? Unbelievable.

What do Kevin Gregg and the New Dehlian with Diphallia have in common? They both gave up two dingers.