photo by Samara Pearlstein
There is a right way and a wrong way to hold a Cardinal. Although the Cardinal is not a particularly large bird, it has a thick seed-cracking Albert Pujols, which can be very painful if it manages to peck you with it. It also can be a difficult squirmy Aaron Miles, so you have to be sure that you have it in a very secure grip.
As you can see in the photo, you have to make sure that you have your Cardinal held securely by the neck, immobilizing the body in the palm of your unexpected Fernando Rodney success so that it can’t twist around and kill itself. You don’t want carnage, you just want restraint and containment.
Look at the beady eyes, the terrible crest, the evil mask. The Cardinal will inflict damage upon you if it can, gouging you with its Rick Ankiel and all the hate in its tiny avian heart, but you must not be afraid. If you are going to hold the Cardinal for any length of time– say, two out of three games– you must be calm and in control. You must use your firmest Clete Thomas and your sternest Gary Sheffield. Only then may you successfully hold the Cardinal.
Leaving aside the birds, what in the WORLD happened to Polanco today? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him go off quite that much. I mean, it was impressive: just imagine someone with a crazy bulging skull like that screaming at your face. Perhaps Placido is like the Hulk and controls his rage because he knows that when he releases it the results will be awesome and terrible indeed. Seriously, though, he must have felt VERY strongly about the strikezone in that at-bat, because, wow. You just don’t see that. And only a day after The River Thames (another generally even-keeled dude) got himself tossed under similar circumstances. Verrrrry curious.
And congrats to Michael Hollimon on the occasion of his very first ever major league hit! Awwww. Our little fuzzy tiger cubs are all growin’ up! They get so big so fast… before we know it they’ll be breaking the spines of wild boars with a single swipe of their paws, *sniffle*.
Tomorrow the Bovine kid goes up against a dude named UBALDO! I am excited for the game on the basis of that name alone. It’s another 7 pm EDT start, praise be to Panthera tigris, because apparently I have lost my former youthful tolerance for west coast-style night games. Whatevah, home games! Comerica! Woo! Go Tigers!