[Editor's Note: Sean is maybe the biggest Dodgers fan I know. His dogs are all named Johnny Podres and his dad really wanted to name his sister Delino. He has a lot to offer Dodger nation. So here he is. Hope you enjoy.]An insightful posting often commences with a flavorful quote by a world leader, a famed author, or a grungy rockstar.
Well, folks, I provide you with this, a pungent line uttered by none other than the sagacious Jose Lima: “LimaTime is halfway between a parakeet lost in a marijuana field and Margaritaville.” (Lima actually said this about himself, what a stud)
Now, I presume you’re asking yourself, why the hell are we talking about Lima Time? Well, the last time the Bums faced the Cardinals in the NLDS, it was 2004, and Jose Lima displayed his manly, genital-herpes driven talents by offering a memorable CG Shutout for the Bums victory. Sam and I sat in his beer-stained living room and emotionally connected with Jose as he forever changed our lives.
The connection between Lima Time and the 2009 Dodgers is striking. In 2004, it was Jose’s kookiness, wackiness, herpes, and emotion that fueled his success. Well, folks, this Dodgers team, to me, has a similar vibe.
Last night, I told Sam that I truly believed that we were going to beat the Cards. Not just my biased subjective feelings, but my honest gut feelings, those that originate deep in my inner cockles. I know the Bums have struggled of late, but I love our blend of veteranship, goofiness, innocence, and grit. This club exudes all that is Lima Time. And Kim Ng has two letters (no vowels) in her last name.
Between Joseph Torre, Bradley Ausmus, Juanathan Castro, and James Thome, our managerial staff is loaded, and Jason Repko is always available to run full speed into a wall (please note, Repko will not be on the active playoff roster).
Meanwhile, Raffy and Manny channel the energy of Fernando-Mania while Larry Bowa is a clear descendant of Lima Time. These two fine gentlemen, in my opinion, will serve as the X-factors (cliché, ugh) in the 2009 NLDS. The Cards produce a ton of ground-balls, thus creating a plethora of double-play oppurtunities. Further, Yadier Molina has the strongest cannon in the league (I’ve always wanted somebody to describe me as having the strongest cannon in something) and can snipe base-stealers with the best of ‘em. That being said, Raffy needs to get on base early and often and run the bases intelligently. Manny needs to elevate the ball and move runners over and in. I wouldn’t be surprised to see a number of Juan-For-Four Pierre cameos in this series, as his speed will be Wanted in this series like a bad bad man in the wild wild west.
Further, the lumberjack, Casey Blake, is our silent assassin, a man who I see chopping the legs out from under the Cards, perhaps with a late-inning bloop single in Game 2. While we are on the subject, how much would you be willing to bet that Casey Blake is direct relative of Robert E. Lee. I have a funny feeling about this, just take my word.
Our infield duo of Ronnie and the O-Dog is as solid as they come. I am uncertain as to who will start, although I’d give the nod to Orlando. Defense is of the foremost importance in the playoffs, and the O-Dog’s glove is bright gold. Ronnie can provide a nice spark off the bench, and a slice of pepperoni pizza.
Russell J. Coltrane Martin. It’s Go Time, buddy. Get your F*&^ing head out of you’re A$$ and play some bleepin’ baseball. Enough is enough. Be the leader you yearn to be. If you do, I promise Paris Hilton will sleep with you.
Matt Kemp, the future centerfielder for the NY Yankees when Steinbrenner throws a $200-million dollar contract at his face, is going to have Carlos Beltran-esque breakout in these playoffs. The man is primed for an explosion and his raw talent is unmatched in Major League Baseball. I love this man. I really do. I have even forgiven him for not giving me a baseball 2 summers ago during BP at a Bums/Rockies game in Denver. I forgive you Matt. I am sorry. Now please go hit 8 home runs. Thank you.
Andre, oh Andre. You are the spark that makes the roller-coaster in my heart run. You are the conductor of the Dodger magic. You hold the keys buster, now embrace that role. How do you have like 39 walk-off hits and then hit like .073 to end the season? Are you blogging about tacos too much and not watching film? Which Andre is going to show up for the NLDS? Look Andre, I know you were traded for Milton Bradley, thus creating massive shoes for you to fill, but move past this, man. You are an individual Andre, and a strikingly handsome one at that. Believe in your talent Andre, I know I do. Because if you continue to stink, Juan-For-Four will gladly hit triples in your honor.
As for the pitching…DREAMMMMM WEAVERRRRRRRRR! My dearest Dodgers buddies know that I have a soft spot in my rapidly-beating heart for Jeffrey. But this postseason belongs to a younger lad. I man whose attempt at a beard rivals Sam Brand circa 7th grade. A man whose left arm might eventually have a direct correlation to the solution for peace in Israel. Yes, I am talking about Matt Stafford’s best friend, Clayton Kershaw. Clayton, your performance on Saturday, in a must-win situation, brought tears to my eyes (and prompted my to buy a bottle of champagne at a dive bar to celebrate; it might have been the first bottle of champagne ever ordered at that place). Your stuff is nearing unhittable Mr. Kershaw, now go out there and deal. The Wolfman’s Brother, C-Bills, Garlandio, and Vincente Olmedo Padilla are there to support you pal (by throwing at Fat Albert’s head), so don’t hold back. Destiny awaits.
Between Broxilicious, Georgie the Mailman, Old McDonald Had a Farm, Jet Li Kuo, Ramon Martinez Troncoso, Baracuda Belisario, and Dreammmmm Weaverrrrrr, our bullpen is quite saucy, and not a huge concern of mine. If need be, Mark Loretta can always pitch a frame.
So there you have it Banditos of the Bums…Rally the troops. Break out the lucky jockstraps. Grow the moustaches. Feed the lucky cactus. It’s time to BOOGIE.
IT’S LIMA TIME!!!
Dodgers in 4.
