Finally, I have Internet connection. It's been a busy day -- driving home, unpacking, shopping, and grilling all happened to occur today. On my day off. I popped my head in a few places to see what was happ'nin' in the blog-o-sphere, but this weekend left me without reliable Internet connectivity to really pay a whole lot of attention. I did have excellent satellite TV in our little compound in the woods...
Really, it was a nice little vacation -- 4 nights at the expense of only one vacation day (Monday), and a fair amount of gas money. I won't say how much we spent on wine this weekend, but the two bottles we already drank certainly helped numb the pain of watching the M's play. When that numbness wore off, I chased it down with a subsequent beer or two. Which is kinda weird, because I'm usually very strict about my drinking. I actually had three drinks on Sunday -- a glass of wine and two beers. Must've been the hot weather.
Even though I was horribly upset with the Hargrovian decisions that seem to always ruin this team's chances of acheiving a new season goal, it was definitely the weather that caused me to break my limit. Fortunately I'd limited my drinking so I didn't feel the effects the next day. We took a trip up into the mountains on Monday. My wife only wanted to go so far, but she later relented and allowed me to press on. I wanted to scout out the road to a potential cross-country ski haven while the road was bare and dry. It's a MUCH different road in winter...
Eventually, too, I convinced her to go all the way to this lookout on the back side of Mt. St. Helens. It'd been twenty years or so since I'd been up there. Maybe not quite that long ago, but it wasn't too long after the mountain blew. I remembered the "wow" factor, though, and when we rounded the corner and had a clear view of the mountain, my wife just absolutely flipped! She didn't want any part of that mountain. She's pretty into seismo stuff, and has been watching the mountain ever since I told her about this strange dream I had about St. Helens blowing to bits pretty much like Mount Mazama did (forming its more famously known aftermath Crater Lake).
Doesn't that sound familiar. I mean, the whole erupting and blowing to bits part. Evidently Carl Everett knows a thing or two about it. In tomorrow's P-I, sport section readers will probably find out about Everett's tirade in Hargrove's office. Carl Everett may be completely done as a hitter, but let me tell you -- I'm glad to see SOMEONE fart in Hargrove's general direction.
All the more reason why the M's need a new manager. When Hargrove's hand-picked lefty sock turns on him -- the guy who was brought in to be the clubhouse leader and take charge (hmm, isn't that one of the manger's roles???) -- you have some pretty good signs of how things REALLY are in the clubhouse. This cat-and-mouse game the M's seem to play with 1) .500; 2) First Place and 3) becoming a winner has to be really wearing on people. It's certainly wearing on fans. Just let us know, M's, if you suck still or if you're on your way out of suckdom. This ebb and flow really is throwing us for a loop.
Nearly everyone I know in blogdom has united against Hargrove. Again, we never ever want to see our team lose, but if losing causes the greater good of jettisoning Hargrove, then I'm sure we'd all be willing to sacrifice a few games. It's not like Hargrove's trying to win. I'm really not the proper judge of Hargrove's intelligence, but I'm really starting to question it. Giving up above-average talent to patch holes that have cropped up, and then having the manager refuse to apply the patch most certainly is frustrating.
Really, it's just a matter of paying attention. I was watching Phantom Menace under the urgings of my Star Wars-addicted son to kill some time in a cool 85 degree house (it was 100 outside!), and I was drawn to a particular cameo appearance by Jabba the Hut at the end of the pod racing scene. After the race was over, Bib Fortuna slaps Jabba to wake him up to declare Skywalker the winner. I couldn't help but notice how much that reminded me of what must happen during a game -- Ron Hassey slapping Hargrove to wake him up when it's time to make the next decision. I'll try and convert this to a Flash video or ASF or something so you can watch it. It's quite fitting...
Okay, that's not very nice perhaps. Still, it just rings true to me. A huge part of me really wonders if Hargrove is indeed asleep in the dugout. When an equally-bright guy like Dave Henderson calls out Hargrove's bad decisions (and is actually right about them), or even when Dave Niehaus has some negative thoughts that direction, something's got to be wrong.
Have you picked up what I'm saying yet? I've said it before on this blog. I'm doing it again. It's not very creative and has been said several times before. Definitely once before in this manner.
Now is the time. The M's have lost whatever momentum they had coming home from their lollygag against the NL West. Get Hargrove and his croonies out of there while there's still hope remaining in the season. If you're going to give up the farm trying to win the division, you might as well stir the pot up a lot and replace one of the guys who's hurting that goal the most.