Baseball America’s doing its yearly review of the minor leagues, league by league, and so far the Cardinals are looking uncharacteristically solid. Last year the Cardinals had five players in the the top twenty through the first three leagues, and only one (Colby Rasmus) in the top five. This year things have looked a lot brighter.

In rookie-level Johnson City, toolsy 2005 outfielder Daryl Jones, who ranked #6, got a vague Kenny Lofton comparison. 18-year-old outfielder Jon “Pitchers in the Hand of an Angry God” Edwards (#9) got the best notice of all: “He looks like a lumberjack out there,” according to an Appy League manager. I’m excited about any eighteen year old who can throw up a .200 isolated power. Blake King and Tyler Herron, another 2005 holdover, were #12 and #13 on the list.

At short-season State College, Adam Ottavino (#8) and Mark Hamilton (#12) held down the fort. It says something about the long distance from the New York-Penn League to the bigs that the #12 prospect on a list has a scouting report that reads like this. In part:

Hamilton uses his strong frame to simply overpower anything on the inner half. He also trusts himself as a hitter enough to go deep into counts, willing to work a walk while waiting for a pitch he can drive. His swing has holes, though, and he’s considered just an average hitter.

Hamilton’s athletic ability limits projections for him. He’s a below-average runner and defender, and his lack of agility around the bag had some managers pegging him as a future DH.

Not exactly screaming future star.

In any case, they released the rankings for the low-A Midwest League today, and the Cardinals continue to do well. After getting blanked in 2005, the Quad Cities placed three on the list this year. Colby Rasmus (#4) ended up in the back of a logjam of great centerfielder prospects, getting compared, as is customary in scouting culture, to other skinny white guys with power: Von Hayes and Steve Finley. Jaime Garcia (#7) got what, at this point, has become his generic scouting report: not a lot of room to fill out or get better, but he’s almost major league ready as is. Bryan Anderson (#13), joined Rasmus on the Appy League list last year, but was hurt this year by his lack of power and second half decline. (.324/.408/.441 in the first half, .282/.348/.396 in the second.) His defense, however, has apparently made a great improvement; while the Daric Barton comparisons didn’t hold on offense, they’ve also left him on D, and he’s expected to stick at catcher.

Remember, though, that this is Cardinals prospects we’re talking about, so there always has to be a dark cloud. The part of the dark cloud will today be played by 2005 first-rounder Tyler Greene and Jon Jay. As per Callis:

Jay is a glass half-fullhalf-empty kind of player. He hits for average but doesn’t have another particular strength of weakness. He played very well for Quad Cities, but may be more of a fourth outfielder. He did get some consideration for the Top 20. Greene did not. Scouts were disappointed in him, saying they thought he was going to wind up at third base and did most of his damage against mistakes while being vulnerable to good pitching. […] scouts don’t think he’ll stay at shortstop and believe he’s just a mistake hitter. Of all the scouts I talked to, none believed in him.

Ouch.

I can’t really add anything to yesterday’s game. Tomahawking a pitch from an invincible middle reliever into the upper deck–that’s a good way to show you’re the MVP. Standing and watching it as it leaves–that’s a good way to show you’re the man. Seriously, I think there should be a mandatory taunting period following a home run hit that hard. (Yes, I would grant Scott Rolen an exception.)

So: thank you Young Reyes. Thank you Phat Albert. No Thank You Salomon Torres, as well as Jim Tracy; with a righty on the mound and Luke Scott at the plate, wouldn’t walking one of the hottest hitters in baseball to face a light-hitting utility man be something to consider?

But forget about that. Read the Paletta thing again, or better yet, read this and marvel about how things can change in a day.

“Albert Pujols is a great hitter,” [Cla Meredith] said. “You could be blind and hear the crowd’s ovation when he comes up there and (know), ‘Oh, (expletive), This guy must be good.’

“But I’ve got the ball in my hand. I think I’ve got a better chance of getting him out than he’s got of hitting it 600 feet. That’s just kind of my mentality. I’ve got all the respect in the world for all these guys in the big leagues, but if you’re out there on the mound (thinking), ‘Oh, no, here comes Scott Rolen,’ you’re going to be eaten alive..’ ”

A fine thing to say, but Cla’s a victim of circumstance and, as per Padsblog Ducksnorts, an over-reliant manager. May Brad Lidge have mercy on his soul.

As a vocal Cardinals fan on a dorm floor full of vocal not-Cardinals fans I’ve been greeted with a good deal of, ah, enthusiasm whenever baseball has come up over the last several days. I can’t fault the Cubs fans, to be honest; not only are they living in Missouri, but they really haven’t had anything this nice to cheer on since Derrek Lee made his first comeback. But the best piece of advice I received was this: if they don’t win the division (and keep in mind I still think they will, momentum agnostic as I am) find your scapegoat and stick to him, no matter how irrationally.

I thought this over for a while, and I consider it a fine practice. But who to choose? Tony La Russa? How passé. Walt Jocketty? Last week. Bill DeWitt? Pedestrian.

No, my choice for Official Irrational Scapegoat of the 2006 Season, Should It End as I Hope It Doesn’t, is our very own Dr. George Paletta. I’m sure he’s a fine person. That said, I’m beginning to wonder if the Cardinals do background checks on job applicants; it should have been a red flag when the college section of his resumé read “Yeah, I did that.”

In any case, Paletta and his incriminating X-Rays got the job. But that’s not the most remarkable part; Get Up, Baby!, utilizing our contacts deep within the seedy underbelly of the PAX Network, has acquired a pilot dramatizing certain incidents in the Cardinals season, based on his life. It really explains some of his decisions; we’ve had the most elucidating moments typed up for your consumption. (We’d've uploaded the video, but nobody could find a Betamax dubber on such short notice.)

DIAGNOSIS: MULDER
teleplay by Jorge Paletto

[Scene: DR. PALETTA is in his office, examining a patient.]

PALETTA
So just stay off your feet for a while, and see how you’re doing in a few weeks.

STEPHEN HAWKING
Thank you, Doctor.

[HAWKING wheels out; closeup on PALETTA’s winning smile. Enter SENSITIVE YOUNG DOCTRESS.]

S.Y.D.
You’re risking a patient’s life!

PALETTA
Which?

S.Y.D.
Mine–I’m dying of a broken heart.

PALETTA
It would never work out, Syd, I’m far too gruff and unapproachable for you–even if I do have a heart of gold. Let the next patient in.

[S.Y.D. sniffles tenderly; enter MARK MULDER.]

MARK MULDER
Doc, I’m–

PALETTA
Will you let the next patient in, already? We’re wasting time.

[Enter LARRY BIGBIE.]

PALETTA
Good afternoon!

[LARRY BIGBIE explodes; enter JIM EDMONDS.]

JIM EDMONDS
Doc, I might be hurt; I’ve had trouble pulling the ball all year, and I’ve kind of turned into a singles hitter.

S.Y.D.
I think he’s hurt; look at those changes in his swing, necessitated by months of playing through considerable pain.

PALETTA
You’re not looking at the pattern, Syd! First he lived in Anaheim, and then he wasn’t hurt; then he lived in St. Louis, and then he wasn’t hurt. Now he lives in St. Louis. People all over St. Louis aren’t hurt.

S.Y.D.
What does that even mean?

PALETTA
Rub some dirt in it.

JIM EDMONDS
Whe–it’s not an “it” so much as a wearing down–

[Enter JASON ISRINGHAUSEN]

JASON ISRINGHAUSEN
I’m having trouble landing strong on my fastball. I was thinking it might be a problem with my hip.

PALETTA
You walked into my office, didn’t you? I walk into my office all the time, and I don’t have any hip problems. The important thing is to keep throwing that cutter until that hip feels good again, okay?

[ISRINGHAUSEN exits upon finding the door. Enter MYSTERIOUS SOUTHPAW; he is wearing Groucho glasses.]

MARK MULDER
Afternoon, Doc.

PALETTA
Afternoon, Mysterious Stranger.

MARK MULDER
I’m having some problems throwing like I used to; velocity, mechanics, command–nothing seems right anymore.

PALETTA
85 Miles an hour? That’s pretty good. I can’t throw 85.

S.Y.D. [THINKING]
Not since he lost use of his hand in that terrible accident after his wife left him.

PALETTA
Anyway, take a little time off if you need it. See how your shoulder feels.

MARK MULDER
It’s more that I can’t feel my shoulder that I’m worried about.

[MULDER walks out.]

PALETTA
He thought he could pull a fast one like that? Just with those glasses? You’ll have to get up earlier than that to fool me, Matt Morris.

[Enter TIMO PEREZ and TONY LA RUSSA. LA RUSSA looks inquisitively at PALETTA.]

PALETTA
Well, he looks like a baseball player to me.

[Weeks pass. PALETTA totally nails S.Y.D. but is too depressed about his life to continue the relationship. PALETTA is sitting in his office; MULDER enters.]

MARK MULDER
Oh my God, my God, my shoulder–it’s like someone keeps setting it on fire, and then putting it out with a clawhammer. For the love of–Oh, God.

PALETTA
Let’s see how you feel off a mound.

S.Y.D.
There’s–there’s a big fork puncturing his rotator cuff. Is that a problem?

[MULDER throws.]

PALETTA
That’s the best I’ve ever seen someone throw without moving their shoulder. Mulder–is that your name? You’re a fine specimen. [To S.Y.D.] I’ve never been able to do that.

[JIM EDMONDS walks in.]

JIM EDMONDS
Doc, what do you say about my post-concussion syndrome? Tony and the guys all want me back, and I feel like I’m ready, so after I get your okay I’m gonna take the first flight down to Houston and–

PALETTA
Flying? I hate flying. You’re not ready to fly. Once I got so sick on a plane I nearly threw up; I’d hate to see that happen to you.

[JIM EDMONDS inadvertantly drives in three runs holding a pencil.]

PALETTA
Ah–it’s just as I thought!

S.Y.D.
Yes?

PALETTA
Stephen Hawking is paralyzed!

[MARK MULDER spontaneously combusts.]

Please stop sucking. Especially on laundry day, I don’t need both of those moments at once. I guess that’s unfair; on one hand, I’m angry about the Cardinals and the Phillies doing a poor job of not letting the other team score a ton of runs and the dryers taking ninety minutes to finish up on four pairs of pants. And the Cardinals did have some bright spots, namely an unexpected pinch-hitter tying the game for one brief, fantastic moment. (The dryers had no such bright spots.)

You know you’re a snakebitten team when Jeff Suppan’s post-all-star-break magic doesn’t even take hold. But the Cardinals still have the lead, so if they could just. not. suck for a little bit–maybe win three of six–they’ll probably take the chance to be major underdogs in the NLDS for their very own.

That said, I’m sure there are people out there who would rather they collapse spectacularly, forcing the ownership to wake up, etc. etc. I admit, I wouldn’t be crushed if such a cataclysmic event occurred, but I’m not convinced enough about its DeWitt-slapping effectiveness to want it to happen. My ideal end-of-season run involves an Anthony Reyes shutout and three or four more of those Jim Edmonds home runs. We’ll see what happens.

With all the luck in the world a pitcher so likely to explode as Jorge Sosa won’t be available in next year’s bullpen. But he is in this one, so when the Cardinals tied it and then immediately ended the inning with him warming up alone La Russa was left in a very unenviable position: hands tied, he brought Powder Keg into a tie ballgame.

Afterward, of course, Josh Kinney came in and made three Astros look foolish. Bullpen management is a lot easier when it’s even a little harder to screw up.

This was a totally different Jason Marquis from the one we’ve watched all season, and through most of 2005. I’d say it was the one who looked like a promising mid-rotation piece in 2004, but to be totally honest I don’t even remember that one at this point. His fastball was truly outstanding, hitting the mid-90s and tailing down and away with startling frequency. He even had another pitch, a cutter or something that stayed between 87-89, working. He couldn’t keep his pitches in the strike zone, but if he must be on the roster–and I still hope he replaces Jorge Sosa as the back-of-the-pen guy behind a sheet of plexiglas–I’d much rather have this Jason Marquis missing out of the strike zone than the one with average control and not a single pitch that a good collegiate starter doesn’t already have.

Honestly, I can’t explain what it was he did differently, and after the loss neither he nor La Russa was in any mood to discuss it. But it was intriguing, and–as I harped on yesterday–different.

Weaver beating short-rested Clemens would go a long way toward salving the lingering regular season fears. Hopefully he’s up for pitching a complete game shutout.

The first year I did this blog, I was surprised when I checked to see that I wrote the least of any month–even including the offseason–in September. Then when it happened again I was a little less surprised, and now that it’s happening now I’m willing to chalk it up as a genuine trend.

Why? Well, The Office–and like erik in the comments I was thisclose to legitimately cheering when it panned away and a certain perky secretary was sans ring–can only account for one such lull. I think it’s because the team, at this point, is a known quantity. We knew the 2004 Cardinals were a wrecking ball, we knew the 2005 Cardinals were a wrecking ball with an ace, we know these Cardinals are a wreck with an ace. What we don’t know is one thing I have no way of divining: how the playoffs will work out.

Or if they’ll make it, for that matter–I’m never one to count my Reds before they’ve hatched. But these Cardinals have basically established a lovely microcosm of their season in this September petri dish. Some good pitching, some theater of the absurd with the bullpen, a deeply flawed offense with a flawless player at its center. Braden Looper blew a save yesterday, and that doesn’t bother me in terms of what it says about this team, because we know about it already.

All that’s left until October is to focus on what we don’t know yet. Deckstein looked ready; Narveson looked interesting, if you want to take the longview; Edmonds might be back, or he might be kidding himself like he was in May when he looked like Jason Tyner at the plate. This team is what it is, and if they can get to the playoffs it doesn’t change their outlook that Braden Looper blew this save on this day; it just matters that he’s in the bullpen, and he’s shaky but he’s a good #2 reliever. It doesn’t matter that Eckstein homered today, it matters that he’s playing again. I’ve complained about this team, I’ve defended this team, I’ve flipped to Law and Order reruns on this team’s watch; now we watch the season run down, and sift through the tea-leaves to see if there’s anything we don’t know about them, yet.

I’m hoping it involves a certain center fielder and a rookie in high socks, tell me if you get anything else.

Eight innings for Carpenter after that line? Hm.

Not a lot of time to talk right now, post-Russian-exam-to-end-all-Russian-exams I’ll have a full entry. I hope everybody switched between the Cardinals game and the outstanding season premier of The Office.

I don’t know how long it lasts, but as of 2 AM on Wednesday the headline at The Mothership is currently “Swarming ‘Birds Go Hitchcock on Brewers.” This entry is dedicated, in perpetuity, to whoever brought that headline into being.

Can a game go better than that? I mean, I suppose Jose Vizcaino not being involved would be pretty good, and it would be great to see Sept. call-up John Nelson get his first hit, or first at-bat without a strikeout–with a swing as long and scattershot as his, I can’t see him getting a lot of chances in the major leagues in the future. (Of course, I said the same thing about Chris Duncan this time last year.) But those niggling issues aside, the Cardinals:

• Put the hurt on a great starting pitcher. Ben Sheets struck out eight and walked just one, but the Cardinals still scored runs on him.
• Got production from their deadline deals. Ronnie Belliard–who’s hit all of .228/.290/.295 since coming to the Cardinals, as Hector Luna hits .278/.314/.400 for Cleveland–clubbed a pitch into the seats; Jeff Weaver, who at best can be complimented as more consistent than Jason Marquis, put up a vintage 2005 Weaver start, showing great control and a propensity for the home run ball. Preston Wilson–well, he still hasn’t done much, but let’s take what we can get.
• Recovered from an unimpressive loss. The “lack of heart” meme has lost a lot of steam lately, but this is one more nail in the coffin. The team has all but clinched a playoff spot, and they’re playing a team that’s out of the race before a crowd that would be big for a basketball game. But instead of laying down, the Cardinals rallied behind the one guy in the game who had something to benefit from playing well and got Jeff Weaver a win. Speaking of which:
• Watched in awe as Jeff Weaver retired seven of eight left-handed batters: Really, there’s nothing I can add to that. And the one who reached did so on a single! He had a nice tailing action on his fastball, maybe that had something to do with it. Or maybe he just made a pact with Satan. I’m open to either option.

And really, when you’re watching the 2006 Cardinals, our very own near-and-dear ragtag band of misfits and unwise contracts, you can’t ask for much more than all that.

Inasmuch as Anthony Reyes showed off the ability to allow fewer earned runs than innings pitched, this is a loss I’ll take with a comfortable lead in the division and Jeff Weaver the third best veteran in the Cardinals’ rotation. La Dunc, our Nefarious Villain in this play, seemed okay with his performance. From The Dispatch:

The thought of him serving as a five-inning starter in the playoffs does not exclude Reyes from consideration, according to Duncan.

“It might be (enough) unless we thought we had somebody to do better than that,” he said. “If you think that’s the best you have, you design the rest of the pitching staff around it.”

Or as manager Tony La Russa put it, “Five or six good innings are better than three or four (bad) ones.”

Or, as I read it, “[Anthony Reyes] [is] better than [Jason Marquis].” Good to know.

Speaking of His Sinkiness, his Mystery Start got pushed back once again, with today’s spot in the rotation going to Jeff Weaver. If the rationale isn’t “he’s not starting in the playoffs”, I have trouble thinking what it is; I envision Marquis, electrodes all over his pitching arm, sprinting on a treadmill deep within Busch Stadium as Dave Duncan and Marty Mason, in lab coats, study charts and readouts with serious looks on their eyes. All this to coax one more run of decent pitching out of Marquis’s enigmatic, ever-changing fastball. Hint: put him in the bullpen, tell him to throw as hard as he can, see what happens. Worst case scenario, he’s the same pitcher as Jorge Sosa. But I have to think that even Marquis’s got better luck with a breaking ball.

That said, at this point it absolutely shouldn’t matter what Marquis does from here on out; the Cardinals have, thankfully, four pitchers who are better than he is in the rotation, and plenty of right-handed bullpen arms to choose from. If he wants to help the club out in the playoffs, he should grab an infielder’s glove and take some groundballs at shortstop. I’m sure La Russa wakes up in a cold sweat, some nights, after dreaming about a utility player so versatile he can even pitch–in emergencies.

Scott, Chris, I’m sorry for ever having doubted you. Ever. Chris, those times in A-ball when you were hitting .230–water under the bridge. And Scott, that first time I heard Limp Bizkit blare through the loudspeakers when you came up to bat? We’re cool.

September 1-14
        AB  H  XBH  RBI   BA   OBP   SLG
Rolen   36  6    1    1 .167  .286  .194
Duncan  38  6    3    5 .158  .256  .289

These things really do turn on a pin when injury’s not involved–and let’s hope to god it isn’t. With this recent offensive outburst Rolen’s year-to-date numbers are back to .305/.378/.538, a little above his career mark. Not bad for a guy over 30 coming off a severe injury that had him hitting like Alex “They’re Both the Same Player, So Just Pick Whichever One You Remember Failing More for This Simile” Gonzalez. Really, Rolen and Duncan are about the only position players about which we have been pleasantly surprised.

It was great to see Matt Morris pitch again, and I don’t mean that in the ha-ha-they-raked way. His fastball is still gone, but the curveball was great in the way it has been since he lost velocity–big and really slow. A few of them caught the high-60s, which has heretofore been exclusively Mark Mulder’s territory. He reminds me of the Jeff Weaver we’ve seen in St. Louis, sans absurd handedness splits; he would throw some good pitches, and then just have nothing to follow them up with. Meanwhile, Chris Carpenter had no bad pitches; just as Matt Morris used to follow up his out-pitch with a mid-90s burner, Carpenter had no problem sending fastballs darting in and out of the strike zone on the rare occasions he got behind a batter.

But none of this is news; the news, which is only surprising inasmuch as they actually announced it, is that Izzy is done for the year. At least.

The headline: Cards’ Isringhausen done for season with hip injury

The excerpts:

“I don’t expect that Izzy’s going to pitch anymore,” Duncan said after a 6-1 victory over San Francisco. “I think it’s just determining what to do.”

[…]

He said he planned to meet with Duncan, general manager Walt Jocketty and manager Tony La Russa to decide the next step.

Seems suspicious, at first glance, unless Jocketty has some advice about the time his landing leg kept giving out on him mid-curveball. Rick Wilton of The Hardball Times says it’s the kaputs for Izzy. Will Carroll is more optimistic:

There are suggestions that Jason Isringhausen is not only done for the season, but that he’s just plain done. While Isringhausen does have some significant problems in his hip, I’m not sure that they rise to the level of ending his year. […] While the Cardinals would not confirm reports that Isringhausen is dealing with an acetabular labrum tear, good sources categorically denied reports that the joint was unstable. I think Isringhausen will pitch again this season, though it’s up to him and his pain tolerance as to whether that will be a positive.

Well, he’s not going to pitch again this year, but the idea that he could meshes with what Matthew Leach said in his piece on the subject:

“Yesterday wasn’t a very positive step for him,” Paletta said. “He said he felt OK throwing, but he still felt like his hip was collapsing on a lot of the throws.

So, will he ever pitch again? I hope so. I hope that, if he doesn’t come out in Spring Training and throw a baseball through a brick wall to prove a point, he at least gets a shot in the Dave Veres memorial ex-closer role for a year–after all, the Cardinals are on the hook for it, and he’s been great, this finally explainable, maddeningly frustrating year aside. But it’s anyone’s guess. And everybody’s guessing.