Here's that picture of the field that I was hoping to show y'all last week. They've done an excellent job of keeping the actual field mowed this year; last season playing in knee-high weeds was quite an adveture. This season, we just warm up in knee-high weeds before taking the field. Notice the vantage point in this photo: directly behind the plate. Now notice where second base is: 10 degrees to the right. Since there is no mound, it makes it intensely difficult to figure out where to stand while pitching.

But, like I said last week, it's always available and it's free through the generousity of the plumbers and steam-fitters' union, and we are very appreciative.

When Jon and I arrived at the diamond yesterday, we didn't know what to think. The week before we had heard that we would be playing the Cardinals, the team that we like to think of as having a lower skill level even than ours, though we're probably fooling ourselves. When we rolled in, though, it was clearly not the Cardinals on the field but instead the Rebels, our ringer team.

I should explain the ringer team. In Special Olympics sports, you play a “season” of something like four games solely to determine your placement in the state tournament. Damar is a facility on the north side of Indy that, year after year, has fielded a team of people with no apparent disabilities and has always won the gold. Our county decided to make an effort to pull together a group of higher-skill players to give Damar a run for their money. Hence our ringer team.

You might think that this is an unnecessarily competetive attitude to carry into a Special Olympics sport, but it is far from the worst behavior you'll see on the field. The worst I've ever seen was in our own tournament appearance two years ago. Even though we were in the second-to-bottom grouping in the tournament, the team opposing us was huge. No kidding, their smallest person was bigger than our biggest person.

They smashed ball after ball past us in the outfield, even invoking this unusual rule in SO softball where if you hit more than one more ball out of the field than your opponents, it counts as an out. Eventually, of course, we were the victims of the mercy killing and the game was over as were our hopes of medaling. It was not just frustrating; it was totally demoralizing. Utterly humiliating.

We didn't find out until after the game that this particular team had used entirely different players during the season to get their placement in the tourney, then brought in these goliaths to smash us at state. We saw a few of the regular players, who were normal size, when they got a single at-bat at the end of the game when all hope was utterly lost for us, but other than that, they wouldn't even let the regulars play.

Makes you feel good about Special O, huh? Our team, of course, is about as diametrically opposite that as physically possible. Which is probably why we lose so much.

Like we did last night. Our pitcher again did not show up, which left us one partner short and having to borrow one of the athletes from the other team to fill the gap. Our first time through the line-up was pretty weak, but we got our big inning in the third with four runs, and tacked on two more in the fourth. Of course, by that time we should have already lost by the run rule, but whatever.

Highlights of the evening included:

• A fantastically bizarre double-play by which Robert out in left-center actually caught the ball in the air and got it in to second to pick off the runner who had been on first and was past second when he finally noticed his team shouting at him to go back. He went back, but directly across the infield, skipping second entirely.
• I went 2-for-3 with 2 RBI on a hit that went all the way out of the infield.
• I pitched a shutout inning in the bottom of the same inning where we scored four. That was a good inning for us. I also had a few strike-outs. Well, foul-outs, anyway.

All-in-all, an excellent start to our season, and I sorta got to be the star. Next Wednesday we play at the real field in Indy. With the fancy scoreboard and all, I might even be able to bring back the proper score.

ST LOUIS, MO -- After pushing down and sitting on Cardinals' reliever Ray King today, Adam Dunn called King “comfy” and had him sent to Cincinnati to replace his old massage chair.

Dunn originally intended to sit on King as an act of retribution for King's collision with Austin Kearns in May of 2003. The collision at home plate caused Kearns a torn labrum and rotator cuff, injuries that started a long series of health problems that have shelved the highly anticipated outfielder for the better part of two years.

However, the sitting upon turned from vengeful to cozy when Dunn realized how similar to an overstuffed armchair King actually is.

“He's soft and kind of bouncy,” explained Dunn. “And if you get him laughing, it's sort of like the vibrating chair was.”

But what of the long awaited retribution for injuring Kearns?

“We'll just have to destroy the Cards tonight for that,” said Dunn.

OK, everyone else in the world has said it, but just in case the Reds management has been waiting for me to make the final call, here it is:

Adam Dunn should be hitting higher in the order, at the very, very least ahead of Wily Mo Peña.

Let's try to get that right tomorrow, huh?

I'm going to bed.

ST. LOUIS, MO -- Minor panic erupted in the Cardinals' clubhouse this afternoon when first baseman Albert Pujols ran into the room hysterically screaming that the sky was falling.

Little Albie, as he's popularly called, told his teammates that he'd heard the sound of something shattering and had felt things falling on his head. Ol' Bert, the facilities manager, was called to inspect the overhead lights, but the lights were in working order. He then checked the windows, but found them intact. He even checked the television, but there was no evidence of anything having broken. That's when Ol' Bert remembered the high post-season hopes.

“I checked 'em out, and sure 'nuff, they were caving in faster'n you can say 'early-season aberration',” said Ol' Bert.

With the mystery solved, calm returned to the clubhouse and the Cardinals went back to preparing to get trounced by the Reds.

Twice during the work day I make the rounds of the Reds blogs because, though entering the names of three hundred database tables and columns into a Visio diagram and an Excel spreadsheet, as I was doing today, is truly titillating work, it can get a bit intense.

It was in that frame of mind that I made my way onto Red Reporter to find JD's take on a story that appeared in the Philadelphia Inquirer featuring quotes from Danny Graves. If you haven't already read it, I recommend you go check it out.

The first thing that struck me about this story is how very much it sounded like something I would write. Of course, in my version, Graves would be constantly weeping throughout the interview, with frequent pauses to blow his nose. Then again, I guess we don't know that he wasn't doing just that.

I'm torn: on the one hand, this is exactly the sort of thing I'd make fun of; on the other, even if every word Graves is saying here is true, the fact that he would stoop to actually say it is so pathetic that all I can seem to muster is pity for the guy. So I guess I'll abstain; it's kinda funny without me making fun of it anyway.

In completely different news, my copy of Oh Say Can You Sing? arrived in the mail today. My son has dibs on the t.v. until the big hand is on the 12, so I'll have to wait to check out the DVD after he goes to bed, but I've been jamming to the CD. I plan to do a proper review sometime this week.

I also invested some time last night in Human League research on Adam Dunn, who, after my research, is rapidly rising on my list of favorite players. That being the case, maybe I'll find the motivation to finish that up this very evening.

And don't forget, tomorrow's game is against the Cardinals, which can mean only one thing: more snaps with Bellyscratcher! She's gotten a head start with her smack talking about Milton's bobblehead. How she managed to talk smack on smack I was already talking, I don't know, but I'll give her props for it. I'll also kick myself for not thinking of it first.

OK, now this post is starting to get intense. I need a break. Where the heck is a Visio diagram when you need one?

Well, that was exciting, huh? After a half-season of watching either the offense roll over or the pitching implode, today we got to see the defense lose a game. How refreshing.

I don't have much insight to share. Let's see if I can scrape together a list of seven plus or minus two points to make into bullets:

• Jon thinks that Brian Shackleford's nickname should be “Love”. Then when “Love” Shackleford came up to bat, they could play the B-52's (”Tin roof…rusted!”)
• On FSNO, they showed clips of Adam Dunn and David Weathers expressing their anger in the dugout. Dunn has looked frustrated a lot these last couple games, more than after incidents involving furniture, shirts, and friends getting sent down. Maybe it's been building. Or maybe winning and losing is actually what he cares about. Or maybe something else; what do I know?
• Ever since I mentioned the Tony Little Geico commercial in my smack talking with Bellyscratcher this week, I've been getting constant hits from people apparently wanting to read more about Tony Little and Geico. Makes me wonder whether I can increase my traffic by mentioning that Ricoh commercial with Todd Coffey walking around the office grinning at everyone, probably amused with himself for replacing all their non-nasty lunches with mayonnaise and banana sandwhiches.
• Reds get to go back to beating up on the Cards on Tuesday. I'm really looking forward to it.
• It's rapidly coming up on a month since I did a human league entry. Other bloggers manage to put together 50,000-word discussions of the effect of global warming on OPS on practically a daily basis, and I can't even be bothered to type up how many kids Griffey has. Consider me chastened. Maybe I can pull something together on the off-day, but I'm not promising anything.

Rest up, guys, things could start getting real exciting real quick. The Reds are running out of different ways to lose; they're bound to start trying out some new ways to win about now.

Go Reds!

CLEVELAND, OH -- After tonight's game against the Cleveland Indians, Reds' Chief Operating Officer John Allen announced plans for additional bobblehead giveaways through the remainder of the 2005 season.

Cleveland gave away bobbleheads depicting catcher Victor Martinez at tonight's game, an event that Martinez commemorated with three hits including a homerun. Add to that the recent memory of Wily Mo Peña's monster production on his own bobblehead night a few weeks ago, and giving away more of the promotional figurines was a no-brainer, according to Allen.

“If bobbleheads are what it takes to spark these guys, that's what we're going to do,” said Allen.

The first players to be honored will be the three who hit homeruns in the top of the ninth in tonight's game: Jason Romano, Felipe Lopez, and Javier Valentín.

Romano's bobblehead is likely to be the best-looking but also the most controversial. Some Reds fans have already announced that they will boycott the game where they are given out. “Seems like a lot of fuss over a backup,” said Allen of the boycott.

The idea for a Lopez bobblehead had to come a long way to finally see fruition. Plans for the Lopez statuettes began last season but continually took a backseat as the team considered bids for Barry Larkin, Anderson Machado, and most recently, Rich Aurilia bobbleheads. “Competition among bobbleheads is good for the team,” explained Allen.

“Javier has been surprisingly impressive lately and this should be a very popular give-away,” said Allen of the Valentín figurine. The figurine will be about half the size of a traditional bobblehead and will prominently feature Valentín's signature mustache.

Additional player bobbleheads will be announced as opportunities to encourage players who are getting hot present themselves. Leading candidates currently include Jason LaRue, Joe Randa, and Ken Griffey, Jr.

“Hopefully we'll even get around to one for Milton,” said Allen.

I'm your excellent host, and with me, as always, is Garth.

“Party” in my case, of course, means sitting in front of the iMac typing, even though I've already posted twice today. What can I say, but I'm feeling so good after that win that I just can't stop myself from tapping away like crazy at these keys. You can tell I'm a real party girl.

So, I was chatting with Joel (Reds and Blues) before the game, and two things from that conversation I want to bring up to the entire class.

It's Called A Gift Horse, My Friends
First, I understand that teams always seem to win after a managerial change and that a lot of you don't want to get all optimisitic and get your hearts broken again, but that doesn't necessarily mean that there's nothing to this winning streak. It's not an impossibility that we could be looking at something real here.

This team really can be fantastic, no matter where Dunn hits, but it requires most of the players to achieve most of their potential. These last three games, we've gotten a taste of that. Maybe it will be short-lived, but we're not Cardinals fans over here: the opportunity to believe is a rare luxury. There will be plenty of time later in 2005 to start planning for 2006.

Another Man's Moccasins
Second, it's just gotta suck to be Austin Kearns. Can you even get your head around how it would feel to be 25 and already be looking back at the wasted years? To be constantly compared to your bestest buddy and found lacking? To give it your all and be rewarded with injuries? It's not fair.

Of course it's not fair; what ever is? But that doesn't mean you have to like it. And being the busy-body that I am and unable to leave things alone, I decided that I'd send Kearns an encouraging e-mail. You can do it too, through the Bats' website. I cannot vouch for whether anyone will receive it, of course, but as always I'm optimistic.

I guess you could also use this link to send a discouraging e-mail, and that's certainly your perogative, but you'd be being a jerk.

In-Game Ponderances
I also had a few thoughts during the game:

• I miss Freel. Cut the damn toe off and get it over with. I doubt he's wearing a lot of open-toed shoes anyway, though this is the season for it.
• Milton looked like a normal pitcher on the poor side of average. A step in the right direction!
• Encarnación was present.
• Griffey was awesome. Is that what he used to be like? I usually find his homerun strut to be borderline offensive in its cockiness, but tonight it had a different feel to it. It was…sorta…well…hot.
• FSN talked to Felipe after the game. What a sweetie-pie. I hope he does go to the All-Star game.

And most importantly…

• REDS WIN! Three in a row. They can do it again tomorrow.

I believe.

Go Reds!

Red Hot Mama got the rare opportunity to sit down with Fan Favorite Joe Randa recently and ask him eight stupid questions about his favorite things.

RHM: Joe, you have two sons. If you'd had a daughter, what would you have named her?
JR: Probably Fernanda, or maybe Miranda.

RHM: Do you have a favorite kind of music?
JR: I've always been partial to banda.

RHM: Favorite black and white mammal?
JR: It's gotta be the panda.

RHM: Favorite place to drink iced tea?
JR: On the veranda.

RHM: Favorite form of interdepartmental communication?
JR: You can't beat memoranda.

RHM: Favorite African nation?
JR: I've always wanted to visit Uganda.

RHM: Most powerful tool of cold-war era communism?
JR: Definitely propaganda.

RHM: Favorite Spanish dessert?
JR: What else coud it be but flan? Duh.

Stop whatever you're doing and prepare to update your links, bookmarks, and homepages!

I'm pleased to announce that my crack technical support team has procured a totally non-heinous domain to be the new home of Red Hot Mama. Point your browser to

http://www.red-hot-mama.com

to look at exactly what you're looking at now.