Right Now I Pretty Much Hate Mike Gallo

In his infinite wisdom, Phil Gar[d]ner opted to bring in struggling lefthander Mike Gallo to pitch in the bottom of the eleventh inning of a tied ballgame. The GameCast reads as follows:

B Looper grounded out to second.
Y Molina doubled to deep left.
A Miles reached on an infield single.
H Luna lined out to third.
A Eckstein hit by pitch, Molina to third, Miles to second.
S Taguchi singled to center, Molina scored, Miles to third, Eckstein to second.

Game over; Astros lose, 4-3.

Why Mike Gallo continues to have a job is beyond me. I'd like to keep my criticisms of a ballplayer on a professional level, that is, to criticize the player and not the man. His continued failures that have caused the Astros to lose ballgames, however, have led me to begin to hate Mike Gallo.

I don't want that to happen, for Gallo to join the ever-increasing list of players whom I wish would come down with a case of explosive diarrhea. For my sanity, and for that of Astros fans everywhere, could somebody relieve this guy of his spot on the 25-man roster?

Please.

Official Fan Site of Anjay Ajodha

Tomorrow ABC is televising the final round of the Scripps-Howard National Spelling Bee.

We here at Smell the Glove wish to throw our support behind Houstonian Anjay Ajodha who, for the unenlightened, holds the record as the youngest contestant ever in the national spelling bee. By now, however, Anjay is a seasoned veteran--this is his third trip to the national competition.

As of last year, the last time the national folks updated Anjay's profile page (get with it, dammit, we expect updated content from a website!), Anjay enjoyed participating in his school's math and science club. He is/was an avid computer enthusiast, is designing a web page at present, plays video games, the French Horn, and the piano, and kicking the arses of other would-be spellers.

Anjay has already demonstrated his proficiency at this year's competition by breezing through the first and second rounds (including an arse-kicking spelling of the word burnettize which, as everybody knows, means... well, hell, that word isn't even in my dictionary; this kid apparently knows how to spell words that don't even exist!)

Rock the mic, Anjay. We're behind you. When you win, we'll somehow find a way to print up a special Smell the Glove T-shirt, and send it to you.

GameCast: Astros vs. Cardinals, 12:10 PM

The first sign that the apocalypse is near:

Orlando Palmeiro is batting lead-off for the Astros... and he led off today's game with a double. Berkman capitalized by driving him in, one batter later.

I seem to remember that, for reasons unbeknownst to me, we don't seem to hit Jeff Suppan very well. This is why I'm a bit in shock.

It Is Done.

Guess Newsday wasn't so stupid, after all. The Astros scheduled a press conference for 11:00 AM to announce that Fat Rog has returned to the Astros for another season. As was hinted at in today's literary diversion, I suppose this means that Fernando Nieve is ultimately destined for AAA or the bullpen.

I'd heard yesterday that Rog has been working out, but he'll clearly need a few weeks to get into pitching form again. Perhaps a decision on the odd man out in the rotation could be decided by Taylor's and Fernando's respective performances from now until then. (Wandy has to be a safe bet to remain, I'm thinking.)

Woot.

Today's Literary Diversion

And, once again, I present for your consideration another hump day haiku:

Goodbye, Fernando.
Off to the bully for you;
Fat Rog rides again!

Why So Taguchi Doesn't Actually Exist

I began last night's Astros postmortem by trying to postulate an appropriate nickname for Cardinals outfielder So Taguchi. "Adverb" Taguchi was the best I could come up with. This morning, it occurred to me why I'm having such a difficult time coping with this topic:

So Taguchi Does Not, In Fact, Exist.

Bear with me here. What is the word "so," if nothing but a synonym for the word "very"? And "very," according to Mark Twain, is a word that should never exist in formal writing:

Substitute "damn" every time you're inclined to write "very;" your editor will delete it and the writing will be just as it should be.

--Mark Twain

Theoretically, I could just refer to the Cardinals outfielder as "Damn Taguchi" but, at that point, my editor will intervene to delete it. And, notwithstanding his ever-present ability to frustrate my dear Astros, this guy's accomplishments just don't merit a one-word name, to date.

So we're left with a rift in the space-time continuum that can be resolved in only one fashion:

So Taguchi Simply Does Not Exist.

Those who actually understand the title of this blog will appreciate that spontaneous combustion affects at least a dozen people every year; it just isn't widely reported. Those who, by contrast, do not "get" the title of this blog seriously owe it to themselves to head to a video store at their next opportunity.

Nor is Taguchi's disappearance from the Earth unprecedented or illogical, as was demonstrated by the late, great Douglas Adams:

"I refuse to prove that I exist," says God, "for proof denies faith, and without faith I am nothing."

"But," says Man, "the Babel fish is a dead giveaway isn't it? It could not have evolved by chance. It proves that You exist, and so therefore, by Your own arguments, You don't. Q.E.D."

"Oh dear," says God, "I hadn't thought of that," and promptly vanishes in a puff of logic.

"Oh, that was easy," says Man, and for an encore goes on to prove that black is white and gets himself killed on the next zebra crossing.

I apologize to the family of the once-So Taguchi, and to Cardinals fans everywhere--for their thorn-in-my-side outfielder has now been replaced by a somewhat less-productive alternative.

Boys, Meet Mario

Let's take a little Tuesday morning stroll to look at some Astros batting statistics, shall we? Sorting by batting average, the following three statistics jumped out at me:

Adam Everett		.208
Jason Lane		.196
Orlando Palmeiro		.189

Through 52 games, then, the Astros sport three position players--of whom two have started the majority of games--flirting with the Mendoza Line.

Much has been made of the legendary "Mendoza Line," a phrase coined by Hall of Famer George Brett in reference to Mario Mendoza, a slick-fielding, crappy-hitting shortstop with the Pirates, Mariners, and Rangers in the 70's to early 80's.

Traditionally, the "Mendoza Line" refers to players whose batting average hovers at or around .200, although Mendoza himself actually batted .215 for his career. (There has therefore also been discussion of a .215 Mendoza line. If one omits his anomalous 1980 season--in which he crushed the ball to a tune of .245 while still sporting a sub-.300 OBP--his career batting average is actually .206. He also batted below .200 in three straight seasons and five times in his nine-year career.) In any event, lore of the .200 "Mendoza Line" has long outlasted memories of Mario's actual career batting line.

That Mario Mendoza was also a "slick-fielding shortstop" seems to have been largely forgotten. Are you listening, Adam Everett? (Career comparisons between the two may be unfair; Adam is actually a .248 hitter over his five-plus seasons.) The point remains that we cannot expect to compete with two regulars struggling to best a pornstache-wielding shortstop from the 70's.

I'd probably give Orlando Palmeiro a bye from this discussion, given how little playing time he's received. At the same time, however, I do query why we're spending some $1.9 million on a backup who almost never plays and, when he does, rarely musters better than yesterday's pinch-hit foul pop-up to Scott Rolen, given the presence of some pretty promising prospects down on the farm.

As was noted sarcastically on the radio this morning, it's not like the competition to be one of the Astros' corner outfielders is all that stiff: "Whose place are you going to take: Private Punchout (Preston Wilson), or Private Mendoza (Jason Lane)?"

I plan to do a bit more research to determine Adam Everett's overall impact on the team's run differential. (I think there have been some recent books that quantify a player's contribution to keeping the other team from scoring.) Adam Everett may perform decently in this analysis; I hardly expect Jason Lane to fare as well.

How much more patience should we have with Jason? I'm a bit weary of hearing, "He's young, he's having good at-bats, he'll adjust," given that this is a bit of a results-oriented business that's measured in wins and losses, not in "quality at-bats." (No matter the supposedly high quality of Jason's at-bats, by the way, the guy hitting ahead of him in the lineup will always ensure that the net effect of this dubious "quality at-bats" statistic is, at best, zero.)

Let's hear your thoughts, all two of our loyal readers.

Answer: Sucky.

Question: How did the Astros' offense do against a starting pitcher who had severe control problems?

I've never understood why Jason Marquis has had such success against the Astros. He's now 5-1 against them over the last two seasons. He was described as "wildly effective," although one wonders whether today's success (7 IP, 3 H, 1 R, 1 ER) resulted from his competence so much as the Astros' ineptness. Their only run came in the third inning, when they had benefited from Marquis's wildness to the tune of Taveras's and Biggio's both getting plunked.

Somewhat off the topic: Biggio's being the active leader in hit batsmen has never been a function of his crowding the plate. Rather, his m.o. is to Roger Dorn his way on to base by leaning into anything close. He's mastered the art of turning his body away to make it look like he's trying to get out of the way of an inside pitch, all the while leaning his heavily-padded elbow into the oncoming pitch. He gets on base and gets his team a runner, while the elbow pad is probably the only thing getting bruised. (So "Adverb" Taguchi pulled a Biggio of his own a little while later, turning his elbow into an inside offering from Oswalt. At least Adverb wasn't wearing body armor.)

It's not like Biggio was the first one to figure this trick out out. I never minded Bagwell's wearing padding over his hands, if only because his hand had been broken in 1994; but for the strike, the time he was to lose would likely have prevented him from winning his only MVP award. But look at Bonds, who knows he can crowd the plate because--if he gets hit--it's the body armor taking the punishment, not him. That's why I appreciate that Russ Springer hit him where there was no padding.

Anyway, Morgan Ensberg followed up the back-to-back beanings by taking a walk of his own. Certainly, I don't want him striking out by swinging at bad pitches; we have enough guys doing that already. But, for Ensberg, not swinging the bat just isn't that great a feat. Special K--who struck out once in fear that his recent success might hamper his efforts to break Adam Dunn's record for strikeouts in a season--then drove Taveras in with an infield "hit" that Scott Rolen was simply unable to come up with.

Little did we know that that was to be all the offense we would muster all day. Pitiful.

Question: Was Phil Gar[d]ner's decision to lift Roy Oswalt a good one, or a sucky one?

We labeled Gar[d]ner as Chief Goat the last time he decided to pull Roy Oswalt too early in a game. As it turned out, that was as recently as Oswalt's last start before today: against Washington. The bullpen responded to their manager's faith in them then by blowing the game.

Gar[d]ner didn't learn from having been lambasted over here. Even though Roy-O had done a masterful job of keeping the Cards scoreless--and Poo-Holes 0-for-3, including a shameful three-pitch strikeout (only Albert's fifteenth all season)--Gar opted to pull Roy-O for the ever-productive Orlando Palmeiro, who celebrated the occasion by fouling out to third base.

Question: Rate the performance of the Astros bullpen.

Trever Miller--who should not be trusted with a lead, notwithstanding his three scoreless innings against the lowly Pirates--allowed a dink hit, got two walks, then got squeezed on a few calls in the process of walking John Rodriguez... who, by the way, appeared to be wearing eyeliner makeup today. So in comes Chad Qualls, who gave up the expected three-run homer to Poo-Holes. (It was so expected that I'd already tried to call Phat-C to predict what was to come as soon as Albert strode to bat, but misdialed; by the time I finally connected, the ball, the lead, and the game were gone. I suspect I need more practice working my telephone machine.)

Question: How does it feel to be a fan of a team that's started this ten-game road trip 2-6?

How do you think it feels? After a promising start to May (3-1 after a two-game sweep of the Cards), the Astros have fallen into the proverbial toilet of crappy (pun intended) pitching, fielding, and hitting. I guess those are the only parts of the game that they currently suck at, but I'm hard-pressed to think of what positives that might leave them? I can think of only two, at the moment:

1. The Astros have zero players whose first name is an adverb. There are three noun-named players (Lance, Willy, and Chad) whom I can identify, and I haven't the foggiest what kind of name "Wandy" is. But these names all beat the absolute hell out of "So."
   
2. I don't think any of the Astros were wearing makeup (not counting eyeblack, geniuses) today. The Cards? John Rodriguez was. I also suspect that Jimmy Edmonds--who was out of the lineup--was, too. Probably lipstick, too.