Hal Bodley, the target of this Class A critique, has some thoughts on this.  Then he admits asking Charlie Manuel to “whisper in his ear.”  Don’t get all “Steve Phillips” on us, Hal.

Raul Ibanez is a tactical, clear decision for DH.  The truth is, if he’s going to mike a sizable donation throughout this series, it will be with his bat.  The Yankees are going to require some stellar defense, and Raul… he’s not a speed demon, he can’t turn on a dime, and as I’ve said before, he kind of runs like an octopus.  Having Ben Francisco out there has proven its worth in the past.  It’s a solid plan.

Then again, Raul's got those Jedi powers.

Brett Myers?!

Is he coming along or not?  Charlie fills us in with what is not technically answer to that question:

“He’s throwing the ball better. He’s definitely gotten better.  He’s probably well to close to being healed or well.”

Which I guess is better than nothing.  Before the NLCS, brass decided that he did NOT look healthy enough to join the team, even though Brett himself threw a temper tantrum stating otherwise.  If health was the sole reason he was kept off the roster before, and he looks healthier now, logic dictates that the Phils may be leaning toward giving him a spot.

Depends on how many pitchers they want.  And it’s not like Brett’s been mowin’ ‘um down all year, anyway.

Somebody actually asked Ruben Amaro if Brett Myers’ offense would get him a slot.  Instead of “I don’t have time for this shit, I have a World Series roster to build,” he said, “So that’s a good point. I haven’t brought that one up, though.”

"Oh, and we're bringing Paul Bako, too, in case Ryan needs a snack."

Starting Rotation?!

Yeah, this is another one where hemming and hawing have taken the place of a real answer.  Apparently an endless series of meetings has failed to derive a consensus.  Cliff’s in, Cole and Pedro seem to be in, and that leaves the Happ/Blanton question.  Will they be sequestered to the bullpen?

Charlie likes Happ in his back pocket, and Blanton hasn’t had an impressive enough postseason start to raise a few eyebrows.  I’m saying, if Lee says he can pitch on three days rest, let him pitch.

IN OTHER NEWS…

• Mark McGwire leaves his cabin in the wilderness to become the Cardinals hitting coach:   ”Just hit it as hard you can.  Like Albert’s doing.” *Reads newspaper*.
• Steve Phillips is fired by ESPN for being a ladies man.  Can’t just let a guy get his “creepy big age-gap affair” on? Especially when he did the same thing when he worked for the Mets?  I like the part where the girl shows up in his driveway unannounced and tries to get to his son through Facebook.

"... accept friend request accept friend request accept friend request YES! I had sex with your father."

The Phillies dropped him (and Kyle Kendrick) from the NLCS roster, in favor of Chan Ho Park and Eric Bruntlett. That’s old news.

What’s new about it is that Brett’s contract explodes this coming winter, and his newfound teenage-like angst is possible fuel for a release.

Let me rewind here for a sec and say that I wasn’t confused by the roster move, but I wasn’t jumping for joy.  I saw Kendrick pitch a few times after his return late in the season and he wasn’t awful.  Stellar, actually.  I was impressed.  Park comes and goes, and Bruntlett’s… another bat, at the very least (the very, very least).

But the switch didn’t have the biggest impact on me, when I think about each of the four players involved and their contributions throughout the year.

Although when the announcer said during one of the NLDS games that “the only bench player Charlie Manuel’s got left is Paul Bako,” I realized maybe Bruntlett could serve a purpose.

Maybe.

But clearly, Brett was under the impression that missing most of the season to repair himself was a ticket to the playoffs, no matter what kind of performances he laid down prior to the postseason (*Ahem* 6.43 ERA in 8 games *Cough*).

“They said I wasn’t sharp. I disagree. They told me my curveball was sharp. That contradicts itself. But whatever. I’ll stay around and support my teammates.”

Uh huh.  Brett, I think it’s entirely possible for one of your pitches to look sharp, while you as a whole do not. You may have set the table real nice, but none of it matters if the kitchen’s on fire.

Cue A Simple Plan's "How Could This Happen To Me?"

It’s not at all surprising if Brett’s decided to put on his sad face for this.  Do I understand where he’s coming from? Yeah, that sucks, man.  Really, it does, and I’m sure it sucks even more for you because you’re the one it’s happening to.

Injuries are taking their toll on your already inconsistent pitching, and it’s time to realize maybe, for now, you aren’t the sniper you were a few years back.

And right now is when the Phils are trying to win another World Series, so you’ll have to excuse the club if they want to go with who they think is going to benefit the team the most.

And not that it’s relevant, but let’s not forget about that one time he punched his wife.  In the face.  In public.

Which didn’t lead to any sort of turbulence within the organization.

If this is how Brett Myers ends up leaving Philadelphia, then… sorry, dude, but the Phillies didn’t strain your upper-back muscle.

The moment from the hard-to-watch weekend that stuck out to me the most was on Saturday, when Joe Blanton was firing away at the Giants and Paul Bako sat behind the plate.

After a sac fly, Giants CF Aaron Rowand came Aaron Rowand-ing his way around third just as Bako got the ball, and from my perspective, 3000 miles away in my living room, it sure as [hell seemed like he had time to make the tag.  It was just a matter of stepping forward and getting in Rowand’s way.

He didn’t.

Rowand  cruised on by and laid a casual tumble into home plate, giving the Giants one of the two runs that cost us the game.  There were a lot of people involved in this play on our end:  Joe Blanton threw the pitch, Matt Stairs made the throw, but I felt pretty strongly that it was one person in particular’s fault, which was why the original headline for this column was “Paul Bako:  I Guess He’s Trying.”

It’s not like I can judge the guy for not having the more traditional catcher’s frame.  I was a big Chris Coste fan and he looked more like a utility outfielder or a flooring inspector than a professional catcher.  Yet, time and time again, he proved his usefulness, knocking in runs and saving the day when he could.

Saturday, Tim Lincecum through on his butcher’s apron and started turning the Phillies lineup into mincemeat.  Morale was plummeting as everybody who can usually be relied on for some heroism tipped their cap to the NL Cy Young winner and hopped into the grinder.

On the other side, Joe Blanton wasn’t going to be outpitched without a fight, or, from the determination he was showing, at all.  The guy throws strikes.  It’s what he does, like how you put your shoes on in the morning or blink.  Blanton’s performance didn’t warrant the addition of two runs to his name, but there one of them was, dashing across home plate, while Bako, ball-in-hand, could do nothing but try a half-ass stab after Rowand was already four feet away and then walk slowly toward the mound.

We’ll never know what was going on inside Blanton’s head as he left the field at the end of the fifth inning, but his face was a pretty good indicator of how violent it must have been in there.  Things got a little less cryptic when he started throwing stuff in the dugout.

Aaron Rowand, as everyone knows, is a talented fellow whose mind fervently refuses to utilize the phrases “look out,” “watch it,” and “careful, here comes the wall.”  If he’s the one hurdling towards you at home plate, the only thought in your head should be “BRACE FOR IMPACT.”  A man perfectly willing to sacrifice his own face bones for the sake of a baseball is not to be trifled with, and a high speed collision with him is going to be both painful and imminent.

Bako had to know this.

But he is the catcher. A good chunk of his job description involves high-velocity objects and persons coming at him at unsafe speeds.  That’s why he’s the only player on the field wearing a suit of armor.  When Rowand trotted by with the go-ahead run, it was Bako’s hesitation that seemed the most jarring, and that was after seeing human truck Matt Stairs run faster than lightning to catch the ball.

When Bako hit the walkoff single a few weeks back to get an extra innings win, I breathed a sigh of relief.  The skinny guy with the goofy smile was carrying some weight.

Think about how easy it would be to market him to Phillies fans.  He’s a thin catcher, just like Coste (a former fan favorite), he’s had a “hero” moment for the Phils, and you can so easily see a bunch of guys standing in the 400 section of Citizens Bank Park during home games, using some weird rhyme or pun to show their enthusiasm for him.  Maybe they’d be in giant tortilla shell costumes with a big “BAKO’S TACOS” banner hanging behind them.  I don’t know, I’m not the guy who comes up with those.

Saturday, my dream of men dressed like Mexican food seemed to get a little further away.

I watched the replay three times; Tom McCarthy and Wheels weren’t saying anything (God forbid they criticize the Phillies for once) , and the Giants announcer claimed Rowand “slid around the tag,” which, if you were watching, simply isn’t what happened.

Nothing personal against Paul, but watch that replay if you can, and tell me it’s not even a little evident that he had time to make the tag.  The way we couldn’t get our bats going cost us a lot, but I’m seeing that clip in my sleep.

I guess, in the face of a speeding freight train, Bako blinked.  I would’ve done the same.  Then again, I don’t play for the Phillies.

At 3-4 on the road trip, it’s clear that the west wasn’t too kind to us this time around.  Finally, on Tuesday we’ll be back at home, where winning consistently just isn’t an issue.

Anymore.