Phillies Notes: Rod Barajas Strikes Again

You know it's going to be an interesting night when Abraham Nunez batting second isn't the biggest surprise on the lineup card. Rod Barajas started his second straight game, one night after pussing out on a tag (for the tying run, no less) at home plate. Say what you want about Charlie--he's got balls.

Predictably, Barajas went on to drop a sure out at the plate in the sixth--this time a go-ahead run. And this time he wasn't so lucky, as extra innings forced the Phils to use relievers not named Geary or Madson and eventually lose in the 11th. Does Toronto still want this guy?

Philadelphia continues to choke on the sweet air of .500, not a good idea when you're playing division rivals. The Phillies take the Road to 10K (magic number 20) to Atlanta next.

- A freakish first inning concussion suffered by arguably the team's hottest hitter for the last couple weeks? Yeah, that sounds about right. Shame on Miguel Olivo for whacking Nunez in the head and then trying to call interference on Dr. Abe. Teal bastard.

- Is there any other stadium in baseball right now that captures all the ambiance and joviality of a San Quentin softball field more than Dolphins Stadium? Its grittiness matches the spirit of the seemingly inexplicable bad blood between the Phillies and Marlins (I hate you, too, Scott Olsen), but that's about the only thing it brings to the table. It's so cavernous and depressing that at least one Marlin has taken solace in the postgame spread:

Miguel Cabrera in 2003.

Miguel Cabrera this season.

I always thought An Inconvenient Truth was missing a "Junk in the Trunk" segment.

To be fair, it's not entirely the Marlins' fault. Their fanbase is simply horrid. You can say the weather keeps people away, but at some point you've got to chalk it up to general apathy. This is inexcusable because since 2000, there have been two types of Marlins teams-either (A) division contenders/eventual World Series Champions or (B) overachieving teams stacked with incredible young talent and likable veterans that make .500 ball fun to watch.

Yet I've heard the TV mics pick up more than a few Phillies chants the past few days, which frequently happens when the Phils go down Miami way. No wonder the Fish are always threatening to move.

- Quote of the Night: [on Jon Lieber's pitch location...I think] "His balls really have a lot of movement out there." - Gary "Sarge" Matthews, Sr.

I Think I Just Had A Heart Attack

The word "unbelievable" is tossed around rather casually in sportswriting these days. This is one of the few times when I think its definition truly applies to the situation. I literally cannot believe what I just saw.

I know that tomorrow, when I wake up, the papers will say that the Phillies beat the Marlins by a score of 8-7 in extra innings. But right now, I feel like I'm in the middle of a dream sequence, about five minutes away from giving a speech to my entire high school in my underwear.

The bottom of the ninth obscured everything positive for the Phils up to that point. They had just scored three insurance runs to go up by four. The bullpen held a lead. Freddy Garcia finally pitched six full innings. (Fred, we'll have more confidence in you once you stop throwing the ball like it's the dunk tank at the county fair, 'kay?)

A few things I could stand. I channeled my inner bastard and reasoned that Dan Uggla's RBI triple actually helped my fantasy team. I couldn't fault Greg Dobbs for being befuddled by Hanley Ramirez's unexpected squeeze bunt. And I could even understand keeping Brett Myers in the game with only one out needed for the win.

But how do you explain Rod Barajas? Everything was set up for him. Aaron Boone (Phillie Killer alert!) hit it sharply enough to make a play at the plate possible. Jayson Werth fielded it cleanly and uncorked a surprisingly accurate throw. Ramirez was only halfway to home when Barajas got the throw, positioned directly to the left of home plate.

The climax was like one of those sequences in kids' movies like Home Alone where a child is being chased by an adult authority figure. The adult finally gains a strategically defensible position and is ready to trap his quarry. But just before he does, he decides that it's a good idea to spread his feet as wide as possible, even though it opens up a tantalizing child-sized window to freedom.

So does Barajas even change his position? Does he move up the line? Does he get down and do his job--blocking the goddamn plate?

No. Ramirez plays the Macaulay Culkin to Barajas's Tim Curry and sneaks right through the five-hole. Tie ballgame. Unbelievable.

On the very next batter, Myers throws a wild pitch and leaves the game clutching his shoulder. Unbelievable.

The Phillies come back to win the game in the tenth with an RBI single by "Defensive Replacement" Abraham Nunez (that's "Dr. Abe" to you), who continues to make the most of his starting job. Unbelievable.

What's incredible about this victory is that the Phils refused to yield when they historically melt like a snowman at South Beach facing a Marlins comeback on the road. (Which is crazy in itself--how can they have such a home field advantage when only a few thousand retirees and sunburned tourists come to root for them?)

Make no doubt about it: changes are coming. Uncle Charlie will find himself back on the hot seat. Barajas will have plenty of time to work on his seed-spitting skills in the near future. Tom Gordon might have a job after all. And Ryan Howard is remembering that he is Ryan Freaking Howard.

But could the biggest change afoot be a veritable attitude adjustment--forgetting that the team is "supposed" to let the fans down in situations like this? That they usually snatch defeat from the jaws of victory and not the other way around? That they can actually turn a potential Chernobyl into a mere Three Mile Island?

That, dear reader, is perhaps the most unbelievable idea of them all.