Rubbin' salt, Bru, rubbin' salt in the festering sore that is Matt Cain's rotten luck. Why leave Matt in to pitch the 8th? He'd thrown 104 pitches and whiffed 11 fookin' guys in 7 studly innings, and was naturally on the hook for a Loss. Rotten luck he had to face Harden. Rotten luck the Giants can't score runs. Why make it worse, Bonehead? Two runs allowed wasn't good enough for you? Matt has struggled with consistency and control all season, he goes out there and gives you an ass-kickin' start, so what do you do? Send him out to pitch an inning YOU KNOW HE WON'T FINISH?? That's why you have relief pitchers, Bonehead. (And don't give me crap about batting orders and lineup spots and all that, that's why you have a bench.) The man did the job. Take the ball, sit him down and tell him "nice work, kid, do it again next time."
The Heimlich Won't Stop the Gagging Award: Aaron Rowand's cheesy move on Suzuki's "triple." Nice going, Gomer.
Honorable Mention: Bengie Molina. Like Gomer, Gordito's fielding goes south along with his hitting.
It is bad enough to have the A's absolutely OWN us. What's worse is that it isn't luck, bad breaks, timing, or Acts of Gods. They are better than us. They have more talent. They play better baseball. They have better management. They deserve to own us.
On the lighter side, I've thrown around some big bucks, lads. It cost me a tenner to sponsor Brad Hennessey's page on Baseball-Reference. And a five-spot to sponsor Billy Sadler. I realize BH is in the minors (my guess is he gets traded in mid-season), and BS is a bit of a longshot, but I'm a cheap bastard, OK? I tagged the pages with my other blogs, Ten Pound Press and French Street Brewery. If you aren't a denizen of B-R's dungeons, you're missing out.