LONG LIVE THE KING! HAIL TO THE KING! BUT THE KING IS DEAD

Oh, it's not 1949, but it might as well be for the 2006 World Champion St. Louis Cardinals. They didn't make the playoffs then, and they won't in 2007. It's not official, but after today's loss, they are on the outside looking in. I guess it just wasn't in the Cards.

What a year! Recap. (This will take awhile, faithful readers.) They couldn't sign Soriano or Schmidt or even their own free agents Suppan and Weaver. They added a few pieces, but certainly nothing to get excited about. You knew they couldn't repeat; no one does anymore. But the playoffs were expected until: Manager La Russa gets ticketed for a DUI in Jupiter, Florida, their Spring Training home.

Then Chris Carpenter, their ace pitcher and two -time (well he should have won it last season, too) Cy Young pitcher was lost for the season after he was hurt on Opening day. Their platoon left-fielder was lost for the season shortly afterwards with a bad knee.

One of their middle relief pitchers died in April in a car accident. Their All-Star center fielder suffered through the first half of the season with leg injuries as well as a concussion he sustained last year. Their All-Star third baseman was hurt almost all season before succumbing to shoulder surgery in August. Their World Series MVP suffered from back injuries almost all season and played in fewer than 100 games.

Their number two pitcher, Mark Mulder suffered rotator cuff surgery in April and only returned to pitch last week. First basman, perrenial All- World, Mr. Pujols has suffered all season with injuries too numerous to mention. He just ices and straps it up and goes on, but he's a trooper who has hurt most of the season. Free agent 2nd baseman Kennedy was operated on in July and lost for the remainder of the season. The other platoon left fielder suffered from a sports hernia and since July has been ineffective. His season was cut short the first of September.

Also in early September their right fielder, who started the season on the DL because of a wrist injury, took a foul ball to the face while standing in the on deck circle. He sufffered (boy, have I used that word a lot) a broken eye socket and his career is in jeopardy. In late August, one of their super subs entered drug rehab and was lost for a month.

Despite all that, on September 6 they won a game in which a minor league player called up in late August hit 2 home runs and drove in 7 runs in a game to put the Cardinals one game out of first place. Then The New York Daily News broke a story that the player who had contributed so much had received a shipment of HGH in 2004. HGH is a human growth drug that was banned by baseball in 2005. But it shook the snot out of the team. The player who had driven in 29 runs in 23 games along with 9 homers, went into a spiraling slump--2 for 29. End of dream, end of season. With their 9th straight loss since that announcement, the season is over.

There will be many who will say, "Get over it." Ok, I have. But I thought one more blog entry about one terrible baseball season would help me deal with it. And I'd say, "Wait till next year," but Cardinal fans don't say that. They just count the days.

THINGS YOU CAN'T BELIEVE YOU DID

One of the first times we went to New York, we were walking back to our hotel just off Times Square. It was late at night and my wife and children were with me. We had been to a Broadway play.

We had the walk light and there were several people walking alongside us. Thirty, fifty, I don't know. But this car full of young male adults, tries to go right through us as we're crossing.

"Oh no you don't," I thought to myself and being closest to the street, the way they used to tell you to walk with a lady, I hit the hood of the car and yelled at the driver to stop.

He did. I guess I was just full of New York and started acting like some of the locals. You're right--stupid.

Fortunately, there was no incident, but later on, and several times since then, I've thought, "I can't believe I did that." And believe, I won't do it again.

IT'S GETTING TO BE A LOT LIKE HANNA BARBERA ANYMORE

What is going on? And I'm not even talking about politics. Oh, that's strange for sure. I saw a bumper sticker the other day that just stated 1/20/09. Inaguration day. I assume the driver was looking forward to it. With the candidates I've seen, not much is scarier to me.

Nope, I'm talking sports. Number one--Greg Ogden. A 19 year-old. Drafted number one by the Trailblazers. They play in Portland. Oregon, not Maine, I believe. No, I'm sure. I'm not as sure if their team name is one or two words. That's how out of it they are. But they drafted a guy that was going to bring them immediate success. Oh, yeah, he had microfracture surgery on a knee after signing a huge guaranteed contract. He's out for the year. How about that draft lottery? Is that on the up and up? I have questions about it. Don't forget the cheating, gambling NBA ref.

Number two--Bill Belichek. A genius, we're told. Three Super Bowl titles, I think. For the New England Patriots. They play somewhere called Foxborough. It's in Massachuettes. He cheated. He got caught videotaping a defensive coach for the Jets as he was sending in signals. Remember, in the NFL, the quarterback has a head receiver in his helmet for communication with the coach. Belichek , in an apology no less, claimed they never used the stolen information in any current game. He was fined. A half million dollars. The team was fined half of that. They lose a first rounder in next year's draft. They already had an extra one anyway(s). But that was the penalty. No forfeiture of the game. No suspension. For refusing to submit to drug tests, players have been suspended 4 games. For fights at bars or clubs, the same. Some player named Pac-Man was suspended for the whole season; I forgot what he did, but he didn't cheat. He did apologize, but his was more sincere than Belichek who never even said he was sorry to the Jets. Oh well, he can afford the financail hit. And he does have some Super Bowl wins, however tarnished they may be now. But the Commisssioner is no better than the last one.

Number three--the Sox and Cubs. One plays in Boston, the other in Chi-town. Until 2004, neither had won a World Series since 1918. One still hasn't; not since 1908. Yup, nearly 100 years. So that team, the Cubs spent over $400 million dollars to try to win it this season. The Red Sox spent $50 million in the off season just to negotiate with a Japanese pitcher. They got him. For another $100 million plus. And they have the audacity to call the Yankees the "evil empire" for excessive spending. I see lots of Cub and Red Sox hats. But neither will be on my head when the playoffs begin.

Finally, yes I know this entry is long, but I have such loyal readers. This one's not about the sports world. It's about Britney. It has been reported that she took son Sean to the dentist. It seems his year and a half (perhaps) old teeth weren't white enough. She requested he whiten them. He declined.

Bananas--you bet!

NOT HIM, BUT BE CAREFUL WHOSE HAND YOU SHAKE

As a channel surfer, I don't see many commercials. Not even the good ones. For one thing, there are so many channels and so many sports that I want to follow that I have no time nor patience for them. Plus, I find most of them annoying.

So I was watching the World's Favorite Commercials or something like that. I know, I skip through commercials, complain about them and watch part of a show featuring commercials. I think it was from Sweden.

A businessman in suit is introducing a business woman in suit to another man also in suit. Instead of shaking his hand, she or he--it was hard to determine who the initiator was--kissed the other person passionately on the lips. Well, somewhat passionately. However it was, neither refused the meeting. Then another couple of business associates came in. One male, one female. Upon introductions the females kiss on the lips, followed by the men. It was funny. Then the public service announcement that shaking hands spreads more germs than kissing. Now, there's something to think about.

At a recent outing at our daughter's place of work, there was a well known actor (not the one pictured above) who shook people's hands. Several people's hands. They were pleased to meet him, and I'm sure shared their good fortune with friends and neighbors about how they had met and hobnobed with him.

What they didn't see, and what our daughter saw was that when he got out of his chauffered automobile, he took gum out of his mouth, rolled it into both hands and dropped the gum ball in a receptical before he began hs greetings.

Why? Who knows? And I didn't ask if she shook his gummy hand or not. I guess it would have been better for her to kiss him.

DR. FEEL GOOD

Why do we as a society want to feel bad? What draws us to the depressing?

What makes our media want to tear down nearly everything that's American and embrace-- no, exalt almost everything that's not? Why are there so few feel good stories anymore?

What would it be like to walk into a bookstore or newstand and see pleasing, positive magazine cover pictures and books that taked about positive role models? Or great things to celebrate about our country? Or, now you know I've gone off the deep end, how about bragging on our President and the great things he does?

What about the beauty of our land? Do people tire of seeing God's creation whether in the mountains, beaches. or deserts? Even in the cities. Even in the faces of our people. We're diverse in climate and national origin, and let's celebrate that in the media. But do we have to deny Christmas for Hannukah? For Kwanzaa?

Why in the past have we celebrated Carnagie and Rockefeller for their philanthrophy but mostly ignore altruistic givers such as Joan Kroc and others today? By the way, where are the Norman Rockwells and artists like the Post cover pictured here?

We've hardened our hearts to our people and our country. We pick at the things that are good and focus on the negatives. We exaggerate the negative. We see mostly cloudy instead of partly sunny with little chance of rain.

I'm not talking Pollyanna. But I'm not advocating Dr. Strangelove either. One example: nationwide gas prices for the Summer of 2007 was 10 cents per gallon cheaper than the Summer of 2006. If you don't want to celebrate it, ok. But don't hide it or ignore it.

STANDING ROOM ONLY OR JUST HANGING OUT WITH MY BUD

I've just been hanging out lately. Too hot here to do much else. Yesterday there must have been a whole lot of gravity around me, because I kept tripping, slipping, stumbling, and bumbling around. My mood was in the tank, too. I don't know; I'm not usually that way.

Even when typing my blog entries, I hit the wrong keys or commands and had to start One Way over three times because of some type of computer urchin that erased what I had written.

My sports teams, even my Burrowing Owls fantasy team, have been playing uninspired and crummy. All except my Number 2 Diamondbacks, but they won at the expense of my Number one. So what're you going to do?

My golf game is frustrating, so much that I haven't even signed up for a cheap clinic on the short game at the course closest to me. After tomorrow's game at a place called The Wigwam, I just might.

I'm so far behind in my reading that I won't even make an effort to go to the bookstore for another McCullough book. Clothes shopping doesn't appeal to a wearer of tank tops, flip flops, and Docker shorts (when I'm dressed up) and gym shorts when I'm slumming.

My hedge trimmer's broken because I overcharged the battery. Mistakenly, I thought it needed 24 hours of charge rather than 3, so I fried it. Thus, bougainvilleas and other sticker bushes grow wild. My palms are too tall to trim the dead fronds that lie limpless and snuggle the trunks.

But, you know what? I feel better now. Just writing therapeutically about it has lifted the veil of funk. I think I can make it So what if the Cardinals don't win the World Series this year? They won it last year. As for the Rams, well they don't play until Sunday, so they can't lose for a few days. Even so, they won a Super Bowl in 2000.

Yup, life is good. Even when you're just hanging out.

WHY ARE LADIES SLOW PLAYERS?

Simple. They're not.

It's a myth. Just like the acronym Gentlemen Only, Ladies Forbidden.

I've been fortunate enough to play golf with lots of different ladies. Percentage wise they are no slower at all than men. Only a few come to mind, simply because they couldn't hit the ball very far at all. But most know when it's their turn, most don't fish for golf balls in the water hazards, at least not to the extent of men, and most don't take as much time on the greens.

I'm not saying any of this out of fear, patronization, or delusion. I've just been stuck in the uninviable position of having to wait and wait while a foursome of men stand around, none of them ready to take his turn. In the meantime, the foursome behind me is charging, breathing down my neck, occasionally hitting into my group while we wait on the group in front of us. But hey, it's tough all over.

At the Cardinals game in Phoenix yesterday afternoon, I was subjected to the slowest working pitcher I've ever seen. I'm watching the papers closely, and if Doug Davis ever throws for the Diamondbacks again, and I'm there to see it, he better be coming in from the bullpen. Because I won't go to watch him. I started to call it work, but as long as it takes him and as soft as he throws, I think I'll say bore. Just get the ball, get the sign, check any base runners and throw it. As in golf, know who's away, do all the visualization and lining up and practice swing--only one allowed, and hit the ball.

Male or female, it doesn't matter. But one must put his/her brain in gear first.

"HE MELTED"

On one of our recent tour excursions to Peggy's Cove in Nova Scotia, our bus' air conditioner decided to pump out heat rather than AC. Our obstinate bus driver wouldn't pull the fuse to shut it off. He also could have opened two roof vents to move the air. Nope. He drove as if he were on a mission. It was a 45 minute ride from Halifax to the cove. And he was going to make it.

Our guide was nice enough to field suggestions and tried to calm the hot passengers. For some reason she kept counting the passengers. Fives times by my count. Confirmed by another passenger. Once she stated, "I thought I'd lost one."

My wife, being helpful offerred, "He melted." When I suppose he had merely gone to the rest room at the back of the bus.

But it was hot. It was also hot in Baltimore, Boston, Plymouth, Portland, Bar Harbor, St. John's

When we returned to Arizona it was balmy at 110 followed by scattered hot, followed by variable hot, followed by hot with high clouds, etc.

It's hard to say it, but I'm ready for Fall and cooler temps. I don't know what that will do with my wardrobe of tank tops, shorts, and flip flops, but somehow I'll try to adjust. Gotta go now and enjoy the 88 degree early morning. I think it's only supposed to be 107 today. And after church we're heading downtown to watch the Cardinals avoid a sweep by the DBax. It should be cooler there with all the insolation that concrete provides.