Sweep! It’s not just three wins in a row, it’s what the O.co staff is going to do to the concourse for only the third time this season. If the team can do it again, ownership has promised to increase the mop budget at the trade deadline.
(via oaklandathletics)
ESPN thinks Tim Lincecum is having an identity crisis.
(They changed it to “Braves” a few seconds later)Keith Law Blog on ESPN.com (Insider Only)
“He remained noncommittal on his zeal for unlimited breadsticks.”
It should surprise no one that the always-amped Hunter Pence really likes coffee. Here he is with SF’s premier coffee maker, Phil Jaber of Philz Coffee. I imagine that Pence mainlines about five Ethers per game, but I doubt he gets the mint leaf inside. By all accounts, the speech he made to the baristas was inspiring:
“ Look into each other cups - now! Look into each others cups, I want one more latte with you. It’s the most aromatic, the best coffee I have ever drank, and no matter what happens we must not give in and order decaf. We owe it to each other to brew for each other - one cup at a time. I need one more cup with you guys. I need to see which Modest Mouse album that barista with the stretched ears is gonna play tomorrow! I want to steam milk for that white girl with dreadlocks, while she’s ignoring customers to update her Pinterest page. I want to brew a free cup of coffee for that customer with the enormous head, because he reminds me of Bruce Bochy! Brew for each other not yourself. Brew each morning. Brew each moment. Because you guys are splitting your tips.”
mlb:
Brandon Moss gets two pies to the face, then washes it down with Gatorade.
Brandon Moss pie’d himself after his 19th inning walk-off home run.
Hit a walkoff home run, that’s a pieing. Do an interview for the postgame show, that’s a pieing. Pie yourself in the face, you better believe that’s a pieing.
Brandon Moss went deep with two out and one on in the bottom of the 19th. A’S WIN! BLEVINS WINS! ALL OF THOSE FANS WHO TOOK BART ARE STRANDED FOR FOUR MORE HOURS!
Two minutes later, Moss had already been pied (after an initial self-pieing) and soaked with a cooler full of ice water. Even after six and a half hours of baseball, the A’s still have the energy for pranks.
18 runs. 31 hits. 3 errors. 597 pitches. Albert Pujols hit two home runs. Josh Hamilton made nine outs. Brett Anderson threw 5 1/3 innings in relief. Jerome Williams threw 6. Moss struck out four times but homered twice. Mark Trumbo hit a ball 475 feet.
Chris Young singled, tripled, and grounded into two double plays, despite missing the first eight and last four innings of the game. His tenth-inning triple was probably a home run, but the baseball gods destroyed all definitive replay angles, because they demanded nine additional innings. Yoenis Cespedes hit one off the wall to tie the game in the ninth, and was held to a single because he stood and watched it. Josh Donaldson barehanded a grounder and one-hopped it to first in the 19th for an out and Ray Fosse almost started weeping, it was so beautiful.
Next game starts in just over seventeen hours. Get some sleep, fellas.
THIS IS REALLY HAPPENING.
Jerry Blevins took the bullet for Brett Anderson, and in the bottom of the 18th inning, he’s having his first major-league at-bat. The crowd is alternating between chanting “JER-RY BLE-VINS” and a wild, Springer Show “JERRY! JERRY! JERRY!”
Sadly, there is no sleep in Oakland - mighty Blevins has struck out.
It’s 1:20, and this game shows no signs of wrapping up any time soon.
The A’s had to put Seth Smith in at left field after fifteen innings, so they lost their DH. Which meant Brett Anderson - tonight’s original starter who was scratched, only to enter the game in the top of the 13th anyway - stood on deck, nervously swinging a bat, with an ill-fitting batting helmet hanging over, shading his eyes. When Derek Norris grounded out, Anderson looked relieved. But then, his relief turned to horror as he realized that he still had to hit in the 18th. Anderson looked despondent, wandering towards the dugout, not sure if he had to fetch his glove himself, or if someone would bring it, or if he should just wear the batting helmet on the mound, or if the game would ever, ever end.
And, as I write this, Anderson has left the game with an injury, though we all know he just didn’t want to hit.
