You say “afense”, I say “affense”, but we all mean the Pears

Dave was having trouble yesterday with the word “gauntlet” which he could not tell apart from “gantlet” even though they mean two different things.

And that was without me even making up any words.  Today we discover the English language is short on words.  What, for example, is the opposite of   “forgiveness”? You might have thought it was “resentment” or “revenge” but you will learn today the depths of your wrongeousness.

 

Haviland: W, 4 – (-1); .267, .333, .433; 10.3 ip, 0 er. The Dragons will not go quietly, it appears.  Someone is going to have to teach them a lesson. For example, quit doing the impossible.  It’s impossible to shut out one’s opponent for 10.3 innings. Well, ok, you could lose with one out in the eleventh on an unearned run, but the Dragons didn’t lose. So what’s our word for something impossible that’s happened? Fantastic? Ha!  We Wolverines don’t see anything fantastic about this. Exasperpossible?  That would translate from the Latin as “beyond-h0pe-possible.”

Old Detroit: “L”, 8 – 7. .342, .432, .658; 12.7 ip, 8 er.  Some pretty sweet hitting there (Kolten Wong! 3 for 4 with a double and a homer! Gregory Polanco! 2 for 4 with a double, homer, and stolen base!).  But Corey Kluber put us in a bad spot with his 6 ip, 6 er.  So it was a relief to check the box score and see Madison Bumgarner cleaning up after his fellow Cy Young winner with 6 shutout innings.

So it was the opposite of a relief — a delief? a crestfall? — to check back a little later and discover that Bumgarner had lasted one more out before he gave up 2 earned runs. And it was something else entirely to discover the reason for those two earned runs:  Alexander Guerrero’s pinch hit two-run homer.  That 5.000 OPS earned at the expense of one’s team? Or, to put it the other way, that consolation that at least those two painful earned runs were offset by that 5.000 OPS? What an ambilief!

Cottage:  W, 4 – 2.  .220, .256, .488;  9 ip, 1 er.  Last night I graded a LACI essay by an engineering major.  In the middle of his poorly-proofed inarticulate paper he opined how his liberal arts education was a waste of time because it distracted him from being the very best engineer he could be.  Amid trying to inform him that “apart” was not the same as “a part”, and that a good engineer needs to know how to communicate with — even better, empathize with — his non-technical neighbor, I kept thinking of our lament-writing, theology-studying polymathic IT guy, whose team keeps getting inconveniently better.  I wanted to write in my student’s margin “You need to be more like Dave!” Or, to put it more memorably, “You need to become a daviant!”

Portland: L, 7 – 8.  .324, .390, .459; 19 ip, 10 er. Out of the 11 men the Rosebuds sent to the plate,  only one (Geovany Soto) failed to reach base safely at least once. But that fine offensive output failed to secure the win, because all three starting pitchers surrendered at least one run – and two of them kind of stank.  In a way, this is just.  If the Rosebuds are going to inflict pain on pitchers, shouldn’t they also be willing to suffer pitching pains?  Shouldn’t they be willing to have done unto them what they do unto others? Such reciprocity is surely more loving and virtuous than depraved, selfish deciprocity.

Peshastin: L, (-2) – 2. .212, .235, .303; 9 ip, 2 er.  How frustrating for the Pear pitchers to pour out their poor hearts and then watch the offense actually lose runs. (Not Devon Travis, of course, he went three for four with a homer and a stolen base.) If the offense creates runs and the defense denies runs, what is the part of the team that erases runs?  The afense, of course! Or is that “affense”?

Flint Hill: L, 3 – 4. .244, .304, .317; 1.3 ip, 0 er.  Puddleglum wonders what the Lady in Green might mean by “gentle giants.”  If you’ve ever wondered what someone might mean by a “timid tornado”, look at this:  Flint Hill management only ventured to provide 1.3 innings of pitching because, presumably, they worried that sooner or later a Tornado hurler would unleash some kind of horrible chulk. The result of this windy lack of self-confidence? An unheroic loss. If a “gentle giant” is an oxymoron, and an entrepreneur is a risk taker, what’s a timid Tornado? Probably not an oxygenius. More likely an entreposeur.

Pittsburgh: W, 4 – (-2).  .200 .314, .333; 11.7 ip, 0 er.  The Alleghenys will probably try to tell you they earned their release from the cellar, and from the pitching side it’s certainly a plausible claim.  But in a moment you’ll see the real reason — a bolt-from-the-blue windfall courtesy of the MLB central office — and the Alleghenys’ meritocratic claims will acquire a sheen of sheer unmerited good luck. Actually, it’s a little of both: meritocracy mixed with graciocracy.

Canberra: L, 4 – 7. .306, .405, .417; 1 ip, 0 er. Something isn’t quite in balance in Canberra.  A nice .405 OBP with a nice .822 OPS should produce more than 4.4 runs. I think the mystery is explicable:  None of that offense came from catchers, so a layer of replacements got added there. Some of the best of the offense came from three guys all trying to play third base at once: Yonder Alonso (2 for 4) Logan Forsythe (1 for 2 with two walks) and Marcus Semien (2 for 4 with a stolen base).  When Semien and Forsythe aren’t trying to share 3b with Alonso, they are squeezing over into overmanned shortstop with Stephen Drew — so some of that offense just can’t get to the plate. If your “afense” (or “affense”) erases runs, what part of the team is it that pours runs out in the dirt, unused? I suppose that would be your “superflense.”

Kaline: “W”, 7 – 9.  .382, .432, .618; 18 ip, 8 er.  If you just look at Wednesday’s box scores, the Drive had a pretty darn good day. So how did they end up in the cellar?

The big news for the Drive occurred off the field. On Sunday, James Paxton surrendered 7 runs in the third inning of his start.  The key play that blew things wide open was Willie Bloomquist’s failure to throw Elvis Andrus out at first on a dribbler behind the mound.  Bloomquist was charged with an error on the play, making 5 of the 7 runs Paxton surrendered unearned.  Paxton’s line was 2.2 ip, 2 er: sad, but not devastating.

That was then. Yesterday MLB changed its mind. It decided Andrus’ little dribbler was a hit. This raised Andrus’ batting average a teensy bit but at a huge cost to Paxton and the Drive. Retroactively, Paxton was charged with five additional earned runs, his outing against the Rangers turned into a chulk, and his ERA for the season skyrocketed from 5.40 to 8.40.

Jesus was crucified but on the third day He arose. Paxton was rescued by a Bloomquist error, but on the third day (counting slightly differently) he … asank?  Our sins are forgiven, but Paxton’s grace was…fromtaken?