The Padres Are Making Me Angry

Dear Reader,

Yesterday, watching the Cubs pile on against the Padres en route to an 11-3 victory and a sweep of the three game series at Wrigley, I lost my composure a bit. There I was, mild-mannered Bevormo, sitting at my desk just typing away on some document, the mlb.com broadcast of the game playing on the computer, when all of a sudden the Padres sheer ineptitude sent me into a controlled rage.

I had to roll up the sleeves of my Michael Kors dress shirt I was so angry.

It was Duaner Sanchez that put me over the top. I sat there and watched him give up back-to-back-to-back doubles to the Cubs' murderers row of Bobby Scales, Aaron Miles and Ryan Dempster, and I just lost it. I immediately composed the following e-mail to my team of trusted advisors: Tam O'Flannel, Tatty Mareeco, Father D.B. McGillicutty and Geleaux.

The subject line was "Duaner Sanchez" and it continued

is no longer a big league pitcher.

Nor is anyone else on the Padres except for Peavy, Young and Bell.

You're probably already aware of this, but that is not a recipe for winning baseball games. Nor is cutting the payroll from 70 million to 40 million without any advanced pitching prospects. I hate Becky Moores and her intolerance for John Moores doing a little dukin' on the side. I really do.

I also hate the elbows of Cesar Carrillo, Nick Schmidt and Steve Garrison, and the shoulder of Tim Stauffer. And I hate the weak sauce of Cesar Ramos and Josh Geer, and the scouts who suggested using high draft picks on college pitchers with weak sauce.

I don't consider myself a "hater," and, to be honest, I don't hate anyone listed in the above e-mail. Nor do I know the true reasons for the Moores' divorce so I apologize for suggesting in any way that John was unfaithful to Becky and it was that that caused their split. I don't know the reasons, and the reasons themselves aren't any of my business (but really, why else would any couple end a marriage of 40 years unless one of them is duking people on the side ... I submit to you there is no other reason).

Truth be told, I'm not really this down on the Padres, but like any true fan I can't stand to sit there and watch my team get beat up over and over again without letting off a little steam. To his credit, Tatty Mareeco recognized this, and responded later in the day with this e-mail:

At least you've got A-Gon. That guy is a Beast. Maybe you can trade him to the Sox for two of Buchholz, Bowden and Masterson and then bring up that 1B prospect you've got. They've got plenty of pitching and might like the bat to replace the artist formerly known as Big Papi.

Yes, at least the Padres have A-Gon. What an absolute monster. He's like Pujols if Pujols was a Mexican-American who played in a pitchers ballpark and had a brother who also played in the major leagues. I can't imagine a Padres team right now without Adrian, which is why I responded to Tatty as follows:

If any team wants AGon and his 45 bombs a year for the next four years at less than 6 million per, they're going to have to give up a treasure trove of top pitching/middle infield prospects. I'm not sure any team has the package necessary to get AGon from the Padres. He's young, has an affordable contract, might be the best power hitter in baseball, and is a San Diegan with Mexican heritage who is the only everyday player anyone in San Diego would consider coming to Petco to see play. Scott Hairston aside.

That's right, I love me some Scotty Hairston. But this post isn't about Scotty, it's about Adrian. There isn't a package of prospects in the world right now the Padres should trade Adrian for, unless maybe Robin Yount, Mike Schmidt and Doc Gooden all of a sudden happened to be prospects again and some team wanted to trade them straight up for him. Then I'd maybe say Moorad should greenlight a deal.

Maybe.

Anyway, I'm already feeling a little better about the Padres after writing this blog post. Blogging is like a warm bath in that you still feel dirty when you're done, but you also feel a lot more relaxed. In that way it's also like a happy ending massage. Or so I've heard.

I sense a win against Cincy tonight.

Best,
Bevormo