The Cardinals Win the Pennant!

The night the Cardinals won the pennant, my brother Ibrahim, my sister Banan and I went into some psycho fan mode that most diehard fans get in their lifetime during pennants and game sevens.

We tried to pretend that it wouldn't be such a letdown if we lost because people expected us, the underdogs, to lose. At least we had given the Mets a tough fought seven games. But of course our true feelings emerged as the game progressed.

During the latter innings I looked to my left to find a Washington University graduate with a Psychology degree covering her face with uncertain hands, reciting every chapter of the Quran she could think of. When I looked to my right, a usually calm athlete had an uncharacteristically flushed face, spontaneously yelling "Oh no! That's it! They're going to score! We lost! That's it!" more to himself than to anyone else in the room, before screaming in the utmost joy when the opposing team failed to score. (This being the neurotic Woody Allen impersonator I referred to in the previous post)

Game seven was as close to a panic attack that three people in the same room could possibly get. For that matter, it was as close to a city-wide panic attack as it could possibly get. First there was the Endy Chavez theivery that had Cardinal fans, and most viewers, thinking would prove to be the turning point in a game won by the Mets.

The next inning I seized the moment to yell, "momentum shifter! momentum shifter!" as soon as the Mets failed to score on a bases loaded jam Suppan was in, thanks in large part to a throwing error by the usually stellar defensive third baseman Scott Rolen.

Still, none of us were sure. We thought we felt sure when Yadier Molina hit the 2-run homer in the top of the 9th, breaking a 1-1 tie as fragile as a newborn.

We jumped for joy, not believing the good fortune of being 3 outs aways from advancing to the world series. If anyone from the outside were to look in, they would have seen 3 grown siblings huddled and jumping in circles like overgrown children. "I know I don't always show it, but I love you guys..." Banan's faint voice revealed in a state of raw emotion even as Ibrahim and I continued to scream.

But then the bottom of the 9th happened. The kind of inning that ages anyone watching, that gives 20-somethings gray hairs. The kind of inning that people walk away from trying to make some sense of as soon as it's done, or try to grasp even as the realization of what we just witnessed starts to settle in. As soon as the shock subsided,relief settled in. As soon as we were done squeaking and hoo-hawing in glee, we slumped back in similar fashion to all other game 7 finishes.

Adam Wainwright escaped with bases loaded and "Cardinal killer" Carlos Beltran looking at a curve ball that will live on in post season folk lore. They'll say, "remember that curve ball that froze one of the best post season hitters in recent memory?" That curve ball froze everyone in their seats at home, evoking moans from the Mets crowd and awe from the Cardinal crowd.

One day my grandchildren will ask me about one of the best games I ever saw. I'll tell them about game 7 of the 2006 NLCS. I'll tell them their uncle bit his tongue drawing blood out of excitement as he watched Molina's home run sail away, right over the head of a man who made one of the greatest post season defensive gems of all time earlier, robbing the greatest defensive 3rd baseman, known for ritually robbing hitters of hits, of a 2-run homer. I'll say we hugged and loved eachother as much as we loved the Cardinals in that moment. I'll tell them a Cardinal killer recieved a lethal injection from a kid and his uncle Charlie.

Maybe I'll show them the blood stained shirt if they don't believe me. And if they're lucky enough, I'll be able to tell them that game paved the way to our first World Series victory in 24 years and the first of many in my lifetime.

Crazy, Crazy Week

Insanity is hijacking the sports world! Or am I just realizing insanity is an indelible part of sports!? This is not good for someone fasting. I already think of food all the time, I don't need to daydream about pepto bismal too. (sidenote* watching Rams/Cardinals games during Ramadan may cause: nausea, heartburn, indigestion, upset stomach, diarrhea [do the dance if it makes you feel better])

Here are the games to blame for my chronic urge to consume pepto-bismal ...

1. Cardinals v. Mets: Game 7-NLCS. (*I faint at the recollection of last night, we'll get to that in a little bit.)
2. Rams v. Seahawks: Tori makes catch of the year and Seahawks win with a so-so field goal kicker, after an illegal formation call by umpires gives us a moment of glory, we realize the 10 second run-off rule does not apply. nausea.
3. Bears v. Cardinals-Monday Night Football: Are you KIDDING ME? The Arizona Cardinals lost that game? That was painful to watch, even as someone with no real vested interest in that game. Someone summon Dr. Burke, that team choked!
4. Cardinals v. Mets: Every game. Every single damn game. I was at the blow out game on Sunday which we lost. As much as it sucks losing, we cheered and made so much noise that we eventually got the stiffs in our section to do the same.

highlights:-

• singing "living on a prayer" at the top of our lungs with the sound system, inspiring two other people in front of us to do the same, including "rich, snobby lady" (that's her real name)
• dancing with Banan to swing music
• yelling "let's go sand-frogs!!" over and over to Scott Speizio towards end of the game, and "It's cool, you can ignore us... you're busy right now. There's a game going on! We understand!! After the game then? (No response) No? ok then, it's cool" which draws laughs out of our once robotic section. It's always nice when people stop acting like robots.
• testing the bleacher-usher/nazi's vision and attention. Standing on our bleacher seats when she was busy flirting with other usher and jumping down when we thought she'd turn around and see us like 2nd graders in detention.
• singing and dancing to all the songs, really.
• pretending we thought we'd mount the biggest come-back in post season history
• seeing a police officer accidentally break off a handicap sign with his hands outside of Busch. Sheer strength, I tell you. Don't mess with cops.

There's an empowering feeling in blowouts regardless of which side of the scoreboard your team is on. Dancing is usually a consequence.

Now, on to game 7 of the 2006 NLCS. I honestly did not know what to expect. I won't sit here pretending that I assumed we would win, because anyone who does is lying or delusional. The night of October 19th, 2006, was such a gut wrenchingly, nerve wracking one that I cannot even bring myself to describe the events that transpired before our very eyes. In my next blog, I will summon up the energy to describe what we went through. Here's a preview...

• someone bites their tongue and draws lots of blood out of sheer excitement.There'll be pictures.
• Three Ead siblings huddle and bounce in circles as a Yadier Molina homerun sails over the guy who just made one of THE best defensive catches to rob a HR in post season history a few innnings earlier.
• The tongue biter also has the most disturbing display of neurotic behavior since Woody Allen. Almost tourette-like.
• A Red Sox fan is bashed. (just for kicks)
• Did I mention there'll be pictures?

Stay tuned. You won't want to miss it. (Unless you're a Mets fan. You'll, ahem, probably want to, uh, miss this next blog.)

Reports of my demise have been greatly exaggerated

Screw "You gotta Believe!".

The Cardinals' mantra for the post-season should be "Reports of my demise have been greatly exaggerated."

Never mind that Mark Twain probably/actually said "The reports of my death are greatly exaggerated". It's all the same. "Demise", "death", "termination", "failure", "suckiness"...Pick one. You used it. It all added up to "loss", either way.

Suddenly, 83 wins, two 8 game losing streaks and one 7 game losing streak seem part of the master plan. What do the baseball experts always say? Just get into the post-season and anything can happen. The Cardinals are on the verge of "anything can happen" and playing the Mets in the NLCS. And it's nice not caring what the experts are saying. Being an underdog gives us that advantage.

What is this sensation Cardinal nation is feeling? Hope? Happiness? We don't know what to do with ourselves except cheer. We know it could all end in 4 games. But we've also had the realization that it doesn't have to end, regardless of what everyone around us is saying. Regardless of what we remind ourselves in uninspired reality checks.

As you've probably realized, Mark Twain is famous for many-a-quote. It was Twain who said "All you need in this life is ignorance and confidence, and then success is sure." The Cardinals are obliged to take that information in heavy doses as it proves true, elongating whatever life they have left. Everyone expects them to lose as they play the role of underdog with a poetic enthusiam worthy enough to make Shakespeare cry.

I'd like to see how far the Cardinals' ignorance and confidence can take them. I'd also like to try out a new name on them.

I like the sound of "winners". It has a nice ring to it.

Avoiding a Disaster isn't as Fun as it Sounds

I pride myself on being a Cardinals fan, in case you haven't noticed. There are some things in life that I'm never ashamed to admit. I have no qualms about telling anyone I'm Palestinian. I leave no apologies for being a Muslim. And of course, I relish in every opportunity to claim my undying love for my Cardinals. Whenever I go to Chicago, for example, I always consider taking some item of Cardinals clothing to wear or a hat to showcase in the car just because there's that small window of opportunity to piss a Cubs fan off.

Still, there's a certain amount of shattered pride and utter embarassment that goes along with witnessing night after night of suffocating losses. In what every sportswriter seemed to twistedly enjoy describing in their little articles as a "total meltdown" or "historic collapse", I didn't have the guts to write about my Cardinals in the last 2 weeks because I feared the worst. I'll admit, I don't take embarassment well. I didn't want to say something I would regret. On the other hand, ever the optimist even in their most dire moments, I refused to throw the towel in. I was more afraid of admitting we were choking than anything else. Well, almost as afraid of actually choking, anyway.

But something happened that most of those twisted writers didn't expect. We didn't collapse (completely). With the help of two strong pitching performances from Weaver (who would've thought?) and rookie Anthony Reyes, timely hitting from the great Albert Pujols and Scott Speizio, and an Atlanta Braves team intent on punishing the Astros for last year's painful 20+ inning game and ultimately series loss, the Cardinals managed to avoid becoming a coined phrase.

"Whoa, they're choking. Think they'll pull a Cardinals'?"

Don't get me wrong, I'm not ignoring the fact that our division was the weakest or that the Cardinals' measly 83 wins are the least amount for a division winner needed to get into the post-season. I don't pretend to think that our first round opponent, the padres, didn't beat the Cardinals in the regular season 4 games to 2. I'm aware of the fact there's a chance the Cardinals may be embarassed on national television.

That said, there's a certain amount of satisfaction in knowing the White Sox, who totally dismantled the Cardinals in June, aren't in the post season and the measly Cardinals are. Or that EPSN.com's Page 2 writer Eric Neel who listed a number of reasons he wanted to see the Cardinals collapse, won't get his wish fulfilled (I also don't pretend to understand why that damn Red Sox fan hates us so much. His team whooped us, what more does he want?).

It's the post-season, not everyone makes it to the play-offs. Only 8 teams and 8 cities get to enjoy the moment and pretend they have a chance, large or miniscule, at winning it all. As much as this season has represented one huge rollercoaster of emotions, with its high highs and very low lows, nearly getting to the point of that rollercoaster running off its tracks, a new season begins. If there's anything I've learned in watching sports, it's that October produces miracles.

Unlike the previous two post-seasons, I don't carry high hopes for my Cardinals. I feel like a mom watching her 5 year old son about to play in a game filled with 10 year olds. I find my team in unfamiliar territory as the underdogs. But that's ok, everyone loves an underdog. (Assuming Eric Neel isn't in this picture)

If we lose, we lose. But if we win, perhaps this ride (near freak accident included) was worth it all.

Notable Quotables

Before you read on, just know that a certain team from a certain city will not be mentioned because of the sensativity of the current situation. I will provide my thoughts after the unspeakable does or does not occur.

As for now, I offer a series of quotes taken from my Geology Instructor that I have compiled over the semester thus far. Once I realized how insane and funny this harmless, nice, likeable old guy was, I knew I had to write them down. What's great about them is that all you need to know is he's a Geology nerd. That's All :)

• "It's like putting a midget up against a sumo wrestler. You know who's gonna win.......unless the midget has a gun."
• "Elements....not to be confused with elephants"

• "Stinks, doesn't it? It's like a scratch 'N Sniff fart"

• "Rose Quartz...sounds like an exotic dancer or stripper or something. (later) Smokey Quartz: Does not prevent forest fires"
• "It sounds like one of you are french kissing a balloon"

• in Conan O'Brian voice: "Nothing but the best for my babies!"

• "That's a raw uncut diamond, not a booger"

• Someone is hunched over a desk, unmoving and arms fall to either side (sleeping): "uh oh, I think I killed somebody"

• "Minerals aren't quite as sexy as volcanic eruptions"

• "Volcanic eruptions get Pierce Brosnan. Nobody does a movie about quartz"

• "you wanna see mother nature's equivalent of beef jello?"

• "It's carbonized. Like Hans Solo in Star Wars"

• "Is a Pluton a Futon? Only if you're a Clingon. Warf would lie on an igneous bed and say (in Warf's voice): A WARRIOR'S BED!"

Head On-Apply Directly to the Forehead

Friday August 25, 2006

They win. Damn those "Head On" people. What do you do with Head On? You apply it directly to the forehead. This line will be engraved throughout the deep recesses of my mind until I am no more. One day, at the very late stages of seniority, I will sit in my corner rubbing my cat and all I will say is "Head On-Apply directly to the forehead...Head On-Apply directly to the forehead...Head On-Apply directly to the forehead...".

Nursing Home caretaker: "Ms. Ead, do you want to have lunch?"

Me: "Head On-Apply directly to the forehead..."

Like I said, they win. It almost makes me want to go into Marketing. Or commit suicide.

Speaking of suicide, the Cardinals make me want to commit suicide. What I find interesting is that everyone who knows I am a Cardinals fan keeps saying something along the lines of, "What's happening to your Cardinals?" as if I'm directly responsible for their demise. I will have you know that every game I've attended this season, we've won. So it's not me. Unless those clubhouse speeches I keep giving before the games aren't working. I'm sorry, I thought the speech I've fondly titled "you win this or your families die" was motivational or the time I said, " Taguchi, I think Jimmy has a crush on you" was good for their chemistry. I was just trying to help.

Since there's currently nothing positive to say about the Cardinals (except that I still love them in a 'disappointed father after his son dropped out of college' sort of way), I've decided to make something up. Today, I will create a skit that explains what kind of mindset the Cardinals are in and what goes on in their daily lives. I want to amuse myself. I've titled it, "THE CLUBHOUSE"

A Nelly song is heard booming through-out the clubhouse. That's probably Edmonds' fault. Athletes are congregated in seperate cliques, as we've all imagined. The only loner is Aaron Miles, who eats Banana peels in the video room because it's dark in there and he thinks no one can see him doing that. Only, everyone knows he's doing that.

Tony LaRussa is in his office with Dave Duncan and Jeff Weaver talking over the game plan for the 1st game of the Cardinals-Mets series to take place in an hour.

D. Duncan: Like I said, just take it easy. You'll be fine because we have no other choice.

LaRussa: And whatever you do, do not...I repeat, do NOT give up any grandslams. That is the only thing we ask of you today. You can make love to Edmonds, you can eat Miles for all I care, just do not give a grandslam up today and I think we'll be okay.

Weaver: Eat Miles?

LaRussa: I was just jok...(Tony's cut off by Weaver)

Weaver: No, no... can I?

LaRussa looks over into the video room where Aaron Miles' eyes are darting back and forth as he clearly eats banana peels.

LaRussa: knock yourself out. Anyways, remember what I said and send Isringhausen in.

Weaver seeks out the closer, Izzie, in the clubhouse and spots him chatting with the rookie reliever Adam Wainwright.

Izzie smacks and streches the gum in his mouth, torturing it without mercy. He manages to speak lazily but with a sense of menace.

Isringhausen: So basically, kid, like I was saying, the chicks dig the long ball and that is why I keep giving 'em up, mmkay? I mean, if you can't satisfy the ladies, what's the point of being a closer. You dig? Besides, if anyone complains on the team, I'll do what I did to Bob the Sailor. Mmkay?

Wainwright: "Bob the Sailor?", he asks with disbelief in his voice, "I've never heard of him"

Isringhausen: Exactly. All he had to do was listen to me. And Izzie stares at Wainwright without blinking for what seems like hours.

Wainwright feels uncomfortable, as if he's talking to a boy who's boasting about successfully stealing money from his mother's purse. His eyes are avoiding Izzie's, as if not making contact with the evil will keep it at bay. He tries to focus on Pujols who is across the room speaking to a group of avid and ashamed listeners.

He speaks with the usual deep, thick accent. He almost sounds pained at having to speak, but does so anyway.

Pujols: I don't understand what your problem is. This is enough. I'm sick of it. No, listen, it actually makes me physically sick to be around it. I threw up last night. You don't want to make me throw up, do you?

Pujols stares deeply in each pair of eyes. He stares into Molina's who shakes his head, then Chris Duncan's but gives him a wink, then Encarnacion's who looks confused and finally Taguchi's. He stops at Taguchi's and keeps staring until Taguchi finally lowers his gaze.

Taguchi: I am truely a-sorry sensay. I have foresaken you.

Pujols: Yes. I almost want to throw you in that room with Miles.

Taguchi quickly looks up with tears glistening in his eyes. His face flushes and he clears his throat.

Taguchi: No, I do better. Give me chance SenSay. He looks over into the video room and sees Weaver hovering at the glass window eyeing Miles and licking his lips.

Pujols looks over Taguchi's shoulder and sees Belliard walking into a seperate room alone.

Pujols:Hey fat boy, I told you to steer clear of there. The buffet is still off limits. He puts his hands to his face and whispers to himself, "I miss Hector".

Crestfallen, Belliard re-routes and makes his way toward the group watching T.V. Jim Edmonds, Scott Rolen and Eckstein are watching "Project Runway".

Rolen: This makes me feel weird.

Eckstein:This is a good episode

Edmonds: I think it's magical. And he falls violently to his right.

Belliard, uncomfortable at seeing this, notices the other two do not take their eyes off the television. Edmonds gets back up.

Belliard: What the hell was that?

Rolen: Ignore it, he's being dramatic.

Eckstein: He's practicing.

Pujols is heard in the background yelling at Weaver in front of the video room.

Pujols: I don't care what Tony said, you CAN'T eat him.

Weaver whispers something inaudible to the rest of the room.

Pujols: (angrily) And stay the hell away from Eckstein too, you monster!

Eckstein turns around and says, "what?" but they ignore him as Edmonds violently falls over to his left.

Pujols: Jimmy,what the hell, man? The doctor said your concussion would heal if you stopped falling on your head.

Edmonds: Yeah, I know, I can't help it. And he falls hard to the ground.

Encarnacion is seen in the corner speaking Spanish to the mirror, saying "You're a lion....no... no, you're a tiger". He growls.

Molina runs over to Pujols and hugs him from behind.

Molina: I was thinking about what you said about sucking and I'm sorry. I love you, big guy.

Pujols does not move for a moment but turns around and embraces Molina.

Pujols: Shhhh, it's ok, I know.

Eckstein's mother walks into the clubhouse and over to her son. She hands him a Power Rangers lunch box as he shifts back and forth on his legs in anticipation.

Eckstein's mom: Here's your lunch, dear.

A loud number of groans and "Taguchi No!" come from a corner of the room as Taguchi tries to impale himself with a baseball bat, an honor killing.

Pujols:Who let him near a bat again!?!?

Boom! Edmonds falls on a banana peel, getting knocked unconscious this time. Everyone looks over at Miles who says, "what?".

Taguchi, in a fit of rage, violently attacks Aaron Miles with his baseball bat, also kicking him and screaming "damnit Mirrrres. Damn you Mirrrres". This gruesome display goes on for a few minutes before Rolen attempts to break up the fight, but Pujols holds him back and says, "Let them fight this one out, Scott." and Scott nods his head.

LaRussa is overheard telling Izzie, "Just don't give up a walk off homer, you sunofabitch. Don't do that." Mumbling is heard before Tony declares, "yeah eat him if it helps, I don't care, just don't give up a walk off homer."

Jose Oqeundo walks into the clubhouse and tells Pujols,

"I had a dream last night that you hit a 3-run homer and a grand-slam!"

Pujols: 7 R.B.I.'s? I've never done that before. Sounds like this is going to be a good day.

Oquendo Smiles but sees the ruckus in the corner and at the sound of Taguchi yelling, "DAMN your banana peels!" asks, "What the hell is up with Taguchi?"

Enough about me! How've ya been?

Hello all! Sorry I've been gone for a while. My bad. It's just that time flies during the summer. Baseball has been an up and down thing with me.

I have to also admit, I'm obsessed with the whole myspace thing. I didn't want to use the word obsessed but the thesaurus tells me other words I could've used were gripped, preoccupied, consumed, fixated, and possessed, and well...pretty much all of that applies to me. I would like to act like a good portion of the population who runs a myspace page and says "whatever, I'm doing this because my friends told me to" or "I still don't know why I signed up for this" but they're lying. It's fun being nosey. I like critisizing everyone else's pictures, pages and surveys. I like knowing every little thing about people. Maybe it's my innate arab mentality or maybe it's just human nature. Either way, I love it.

Not much has happened with me since the beginning of August. I haven't even gotten that haircut placed in my mental to-do list for months now.

I've gone to a protest condemning Israel's disproportianate use of force against the Palestinians and Lebanese in the last 2 months. Although, they always use disproportionate force against Palestinians, so who are we kidding? It was nice seeing other people being proactive. (Does that make anyone else think of acne medication?)

I went to the baseball game that broke the Cards 8 game losing streak. Your Welcome. And no, not the first one, the second 8 game losing streak. Cardinal fans have been so spoiled for the last few years, I never thought I'd have to talk about losing streaks ever again (besides the play-offs, silly). But there the 8 game losing streaks are, dancing in front of me like the devilish facts they've become. As a baseball fan, I know that news doesn't bode well for our hopes of winning it all this year. As a Cardinals fan, I fantasize that this is all part of His plan to make us really appreciate the pending World Series win. I also like to theorize that we're getting the losing aura out of the way now before the post season, as opposed to recent trends. Of course, it's fantasy but as a sports fan, we all thrive on fantasies. We even have leagues where we can all fantasize together. So there you go. We are a sick, sick group of people.

Well, the Cardinals won today's game against Cincinatti in dramatic fashion. The good news is we're 2 and 1/2 games in front of them now. The bad news is we're headed to Chi-town for a 3 game series. If any of this year's previous games in Chicago should indicate how the Cardinals should perform, then I predict we should win...oh...say..according to my calculations...about zero games. I guess I'll pray. Or I'll fantasize He planned on us losing all the previous games played in Chicago so we could sweep in dramatic fashion towards the end of the year. Whatever.

Off topic, I can hear Titanic playing on our television in the backround. I need to ask, why didn't Jack use any other floating debris from the ship to save himself. Or why didn't he and Rose take turns. I know it's cause he "loved her" but I just thought love went both ways. If she loves him, she'll share. Good movie, though.

oooh, it's the part where the life-boats won't go back to save the people in the water. I love the accents and how the guy says in cockney English "shut yo' trap"... or something like that.

Ok, so I know everyone's been watching the news or reading about it online. I'm confused because the press berated the Ramseys (of Jon-Benet Ramsey) for apparently "exploiting" their daughter while she was alive ( because of the whole child beauty queen thing) but it seems that the press has been exploiting the girl's death for ten years now. Let's think about this. Jon Benet was here for 6 years and 10 years later her picture's still on the cover of magazines and all over the news. It's just insane.

Apart from that, the news generally pisses me off, in case you couldn't tell already. It's all about sensationalism and which host of a program gets the most shock and awe out of people. CNN has Nancy Grace and Glenn Beck. CNN! F.Y.I,it is not the most trusted name in news anymore.Yuck.

By the way, here's something to look forward to. Albert Pujols will be a guest on David Letterman's Friday August, 25th. I'm so psyched about seeing Albert charm the pants off of Dave. Oh and the cardinals are playing the N.Y. Mets that week. (fingers crossed very, very, very, very tightly. Very tightly)

Take care peeps. Be good. Don't drink and drive. Don't do drugs. Be nice to people. Commit acts of kindness (don't commit crimes). And smile. ~Badia