Starting tonight,

At a game I will be attending -- thanks Pnut -- the Rangers will have three chances over the next seventy-two hours to win one game and win their third straight American League West title.

I am not optimistic.  Of course, the season that marks the tenth anniversary of the amazing Moneyball twenty-game winning streak A's would be a miracle one for your 2012 Oakland Plucky Athletics.

I would not be the least bit surprised if the A's did sweep the Rangers and stole the flag.  And, even if the Rangers do win the division their playoff prospects do not look very good.  In point of fact (h/t Beat the Devil; an aside, me and a buddy were obsessed with Beat the Devil, and even had a drinking game -- drinking Pernod, natch, which is what Bogart orders in an early scene -- where we drank every time Jennifer Jones says, "In point of fact."  She says it three times in three seconds in that clip, starting at the 3:04 mark.  You could get pretty drunk playing our game, depending on what you are drinking.) Ahem, in point of fact, the Rangers just do not look very good.  They are having runners picked off; they are not getting good jumps on fly balls; the rotation is seriously leaky -- with the exception of Darvish and Harrison; Nathan -- uncharacteristically -- has blown two saves in just the last couple of weeks; the offense is a serious roller coaster ride with longer valleys than peaks; Wash keeps bringing Lowe out to pitch in high-leverage situations; and some of the players look flat-out bushed.  We probably would not even have made the playoffs if not for Adrian Beltre.  (And he tweaked his shoulder again last night! Do not know if he will be at third or the DH tonight, but he insisted last night that he is playing today.) However it turns out this has been one of the strangest Ranger seasons ever. Despite being considered one of the best teams all season long, Ranger fans have never seemed satisfied.  There have been mystery flus and viruses; our rotation was nearly completely wiped out; Hamilton either looks like Mickey Mantle or Joe Shlabotnik (lately, more like Shlabotnik); Roy Oswalt has been much more pain in the neck than savior; Kinsler is acting like Kinsler (and not hitting much recently); it has just a been a wacky wacky season for the Rangers, and there could be a real sense of relief when it ends, however it ends.  Baseball is a seductive, yet cruel lady, ...

To wit, every game matters in a very long season of Major League Baseball.  April is just as important as September.  Just ask the Los Angeles Angels of Disneyland, who spent one-third of a billion dollars on two players, and despite being one of the best teams in the Majors at this point, will be working on their golf game next weekend.  They simply could not overcome their horrible start and are on the outside looking in.  Not that I am all that wracked up about it.

Wash will have tonight's starter on a very short leash tonight, Martin Perez.  The A's roughed him up for five runs in two-thirds of one inning last week.  We will probably see Oswalt or Scooter Feldman if Perez can not get it done.

Honestly, this is not the best chance for the Rangers tonight.  Tomorrow is.  But, "That's the way baseball go," as Wash likes to say.

The Rangers have clinched a playoff spot.
The Rangers' Magic Number for the division title is two.
The Rangers' Magic Number for home field advantage is three.

The Athletics' Magic Number for a playoff spot is one.
The Athletics' Magic Number for the division title is six.
The Athletics' Magic Number for home field advantage is six.

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Here is a fun chart of the AL West playoff chances throughout the season:  (Poor Mariners.)

And here are some more screen shots of an interesting philosophical discussion on the Rangers SBNation blog:

I will talk about The Master, which I saw yesterday, another time.

I love you all,
Ardent

Massive free-wheeling roundabout here today:

I will start with baseball:

The Rangers' Magic Number for winning the AL West is seven.
The Rangers' Magic Number for clinching a playoff spot is four.

On Sunday, the sixteenth, right before the Wife and I left The Overlook Claremont Hotel for our reservation at Rivoli, I was sweating bullets, keenly peering in to the MLB.com app on my iToy, listening to Eric Nadel call the final out of a game the Rangers really needed to win.  Actually, it is September, so, if your club is a part of the pennant chase, you naturally believe that they need to win every game, whilst knowing at the same time, that that is nearly impossible.

The A's lost that day as well, knocking two off the Magic Number to fourteen.  The A's and the Rangers both had the next day off, so I figured what would be the likely outcome for the upcoming week.  I anticipated that the Magic Number would be cut in half to seven by Sunday the twenty-third.  I expected the Plucky A's to go two and four at Detroit and New York.  And, the Rangers to go three and three at Los Angeles Angels of Disneyland and Seattle.  The A's went two and four (four off the Magic Number) and the Rangers went three and three (three off the Magic Number, adding up to seven total).

And, that is where we are.

The A's and the Rangers open a four game series tonight in Arlington.  The A's then fly home and finish the regular season in Oakland.  They will play Seattle this weekend and then play three with the Rangers, starting a week from today, October first.

The Rangers play three against the annoying, "We refuse to go away" Los Angeles Angels of Disneyland this weekend.  The meat, if you will, between the two aforementioned Oakland A's "buns".

The A's series with the Yankees was an absolute September Classic.  All three games were decided by one run, and the first two, both of the Yankees' wins, were decided in the last at-bat of extra innings.  The A's on Saturday took a four run lead on three home runs in the top of the thirteenth, only to lose in the bottom of the fourteenth on a fielding error.  And, then Eric Chavez said some stupid stuff to Murdoch's New York Post, instead of just being grateful for such a thrilling crazy win.  Athletes, right?

But, the A's rebounded yesterday and snuck out of the Bronx with a five-four victory.

Meanwhile, the Rangers do not have to see the Seattle Mariners again until next Spring.  Hoo-ray! The lowly M's have given the Rangers fits all season, and it was touch and go, nail-biting time yesterday right around four o'clock, as Joe Nathan got the save, and the Rangers avoided being swept by Seattle.  (In fact, when the Rangers lost the first two of that series, it was the first time the Rangers had lost consecutive games in over a month.)

The Rangers are getting very good pitching right now, but can not hit a lick again, quite suddenly. Josh Hamilton has some bizarre ailment that no one can diagnose, and we do not know when he will return.  Adrian Beltre has been battling his own illness issues lately, too, and apart from a majestic, magical ninth inning, game winning home run against the Angels last Thursday, he has not done much, either.  Kinsler, Cruz, and Elvis are all struggling, too.  Only Napoli, Craig Gentry, and David Murphy are hitting right now.

I am hoping that getting some home cooking this week will wake up some bats.  And, you know the A's have got to be wiped after that epic Yankees series.

I expect the A's and Rangers will split their four game series, getting the Magic Number down to three with six games left.  But, the A's need to worry about the Angels, as well.  The Angels are three back in the loss column for a playoff spot, chasing the A's.  The A's magic number for a playoff spot is eight.

There was a funny moment in yesterday's Rangers game, when Soto hit a two-run home run. Soto was convinced he had popped it up, and slammed his bat on the ground, not realizing it had left the park until he looked up after rounding first base.  That "pop up" home run was the game winning hit, it turned out.

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I do not know if it is because I have watching, following so much of the pennant races lately, or, because I have just devoured all seven seasons of the deliciously rude English series, Peep Show, but I am obsessed with The Fratellis right now.  Their glam-y, yobbish, naughty football terrace hits; Flathead, Chelsea Dagger, etc, ... just seem to be perfect for me right now.

I dare not post their videos here, but you can find them v easily on YouTube.  It is basically the band "playing" whilst surrounded by girls wearing lingerie.

The Fratellis are not a good group, really.  They are certainly a guilty pleasure for me.  And the singer really milks his accent to a very annoying degree, but, you do have to respect their knack for writing "hits".

Peep Show, meanwhile, is bloody good fun.  It breaks no fresh ground, but is mean-spirited and fun, and hilarious, in dozens of very good ways.  Plus, I love Olivia Colman, who plays Sophie. Peep Show prob is not for everybody, but Renee and I truly enjoy it.

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Mittens is in such a world of hurt right now.  He is hurting so bad that he even did a Friday news dump of his 2011 taxes, and hired some lackey to write a report about the previous ten years of tax returns that basically said, "Well, you folks, the forty seven per cent, the help, can not actually see Mittens' tax returns, but I have looked at them, and everything is okay, so, would you kids just shut up about all that now?"

Plouffe and Axelrod, of course, have already created a sharp commercial about all this, that is airing in Ohio right now, as Mittens and LL Cool P will be sailing in a corrical (h/t In the Loop) throughout the Buckeye state for three days this week.

And, up in Massachusetts, we are seeing the real Scott Brown, at last.  Ms Warren is slowly but surely beginning to connect with voters, and is stretching out her slim lead.  The drug store truck driving man, that won a few years ago is long gone, and has been replaced but a whinging cry baby of the worst kind, that is holding his breath on account that Elizabeth Warren does things like call Brown a Republican, and what not.  What a witch, right?

And, that is all I got for today,
Love you all,
Ardent

Well well well

The first pitch today, Los Angeles Angels of Disneyland at Baltimore took place at prob I am guessing, 4.07 pm PDT.  Maicer Izturis flied out to deep center.  One out.

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The song Well Well Well by The Plastic Ono Band (John Lennon) released 1970, Lennon's first Album statement since the Beatles broke up, is on the face of it, a pedestrian skewed blues.  It is essentially the same blues changes repeated ad infinitum with lyrics and primal screams.

It is still one of my all-time fave tracks.  I loved it as a teenager, writing a play around it and other solo Lennon tracks.  It is also fairly obv that tracks from this stellar album (Plastic Ono Band) were massive influences on artists today, such as, Lenny Kravitz (who basically owes his career to Plastic Ono Band) and Jon Spencer, whose fans should realize that I Found Out is one of the cornerstones of his entire career.

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"I took my loved one out to dinner/So we could get a bite to eat/And though we had been much thinner/She looked so beautiful I could eat her/Well well well oh well"

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Rangers and Mariners, prob a stupid Star Wars early start:  Ian Kinsler fouls out to first.

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There is something about sports, is not there? Is not there? The absolute joy that I am feeling across three time zones, men successful, men defeated.

My wife.  My wife, "Why must you wish others lose, why is that so integral to your happiness?"

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"We sat and talked of revolution/Just like two liberals in the sun/We talked of women's liberation/And how the hell we could get things done/Well well well oh well"

Sooners receive the ball at about 5.20 PDT, the Angels are flailing and the Rangers are beginning to rally.

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Josh Hamilton, you may have heard of him, has single-handedly, today in Seattle, decided that he alone decides the AL West.  And fuck everyone else.   It his him you should consult, thank you v much, if you have questions.

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Results are pouring in.

The Dems cave.  The Yankees win.  Mariano turns in to gold before our eyes.

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There are whispers.  Perhaps the standard bearer, the Nation's number one, are not up to the task.  Perhaps it is the same again to a gazillion Sooner fans.  He is not Huepel.  He is not Bradford.  He is not ...

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The Angels lose.  Santana allows five in the first.

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My goodness, they are trotting him out, ...

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It fits the profile of the home team upset, the kid, coming off the bench, leading his team to victory w/ a 56 yd TD pass on 3rd and 28.

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It is over in Seattle.  The magic number is seven.

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"I took my loved one to a big field/So we could watch the English sky/We're both feeling guilty/And neither one of us knew just why/Well well well oh well"

It is over in Tallahasee.  Stills.  (He says, yawning, so tired, drunk.)  Stills.  Stills.  (They will dread that catch for decades in No. Florida.)

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That is the magic of sports. Today was an absolute Home Run, 2 games shaved off a Magic Number and a huge road win against a quality opponent.

But there was sweat.  And blood pressures rising.

But there is bliss, falling to bed tonight, ESPN barely blaring in the quiet dark of my bedroom.

Only sport gives you that.