Brad Lidge Does Not Have Insults Added to Actual Injuries
By Justin Klugh
Brad Lidge pitched yesterday.
My first reaction was to compare him to Cinderella, spending all winter preparing for the ball, buying the dress, picking out the shoes, having elbow and knee surgery, turning his car into a pumpkin… and doing all those things I know about girls’ preparations for formal events. Then I thought, nothing would be a bigger slap in the petty face than to bitch about Brad all last year, demand that he be fine this year, and then compare him to a Disney princess.
So let’s just allow the results to speak for themselves: 16 pitches, 3 hits, 1 run
Okay, just… just shut up, results.
Brad was “pleased,” and that’s fine. We can’t jump to conclusions because he pitched all right in a Grapefruit League game–a minor league one–and said “that he felt healthy.”
In fact, he was so “pleased,” that he will not be healthy by opening day. But that’s not a surprise to anybody, I hope, and the mere fact that he was out on the mound was a good sign. Also, Rich Dubee let him off his leash and we even saw six sliders. This was a science experiment and a workout, so the hits and the runs? Meaningless. Brad’s just getting that arm strength back up to where it was in 2008: Somewhere.
“I’m pleased with where my arm is.” So am I. It’s attached to his shoulder. Based on some of his outings last year, I thought their first surgical move would be to lop it off and send it to the Vatican to be exorcised.
Speaking of the Orioles (???), we go head-to-head with the O’s at 7:05 today. Whippersnapper Kyle Kendrick looks to ruin Jamie Moyer’s life by pitching well. Speaking of young pitchers (that segue actually worked), J.A. Happ hasn’t allowed an ER in 6 1/3 innings. Which is great, but not epic. Do I demand “epic” to be pleased? Do you even read this blog? No. And that’s too bad. Because this entry was pretty okay, I thought.
Health. It’s something that has escaped the bullpen at various intervals in the past few months. And if Brad’s healthy, I’m healthy; and I don’t have to go back to my *crying spot* on the Ben Franklin Bridge. Or change it to my *I swear to god I’ll do it* spot after the All-Star break.