A 'Star' is Born

Normally, when a 21 year-old stencils his name in urine on his neighbor's vinyl siding and is cited by the local police, people write it off as kids being "too young to know any better." Similarly, when you've recently turned 21, classifying you as the youngest player in the Majors and you're hitting .418 through the season's first three weeks, I guess you're also "too young to know any better."

As much as the Cubs' starting pitching this season has been as infuriating as an octogenarian breaking your cruise control on the Kennedy, Castro has been absolutely incredible. In the Cubs' recent trip to Colorado, a state conducive to hitting and "coexisting", Castro flourished by amassing 7 hits in the series' final two games.

In fact, the fresh-faced infielder who was born in 1990 already has six 3-hit games on the young season. In case you're not a Cubs historian, that's the most in the first fifteen games of the year since Clarence Birdseye's advent of a process for frozen food in 1925. That's right, the last time someone was making as much music as Castro in the batters box through the first three weeks, George Gershwin was writing 'Rhapsody in Blue'.

Ever since Quade inserted the north side's newest 'Star' into the lead-off spot, he has accepted the invitation graciously by going 18-32 with 8 runs, 2 doubles and 2 triples. I could sit here and spew stats at you until you're Cubbie blue in the face, but that is besides the point. The fact of the matter is, #13 is the April MVP of the National League (like anybody cares). Even more impressively, Castro has a knack for providing clutch hits and seeing-eye singles in pivotal moments of the game. It's not like Sammy Sosa cranking moonshots when the Cubs are either up by a touchdown or down by a decade on the stadium scoreboard. As of this season, he has been impervious to pressure and it has rewarded him by placing his name amongst the top 5 in the NL in runs.

The fact that he was barely recognizable in Wrigleyville last season is now a thing of the past. Now, Starlin is going to have to fend off more hangers-on with his boyish jive-talk than Tahj Mowry after Smart Guy blew up.

By no means am I predicting that Castro will continue his dominance into a .400 season or an MVP campaign, but when the player on your team with boatloads of potential is making the most out of his opportunities, it is refreshing. And for a Cub fan, it's unusual.

As for Pick of the Day, The Pulse Man likes the Pacers and the near dozen-point cushion they are being allotted in the Madhouse. By no means are either of us rooting for Psycho T, but a cover wouldn't be the end of the world.

Pick of the Day: Pacers (+11) @ Bulls- PACERS

Record:(64-52-0)

Now I'm done. Rack me

Frost

Thorn in Our Side

How many top ten singles did Natalie Imbruglia produce? How many movies has Brett Favre scored a cameo in? How many songs by The Fugees can you sing by heart? If you haven't found the commonality in these questions just yet, this might make it a bit easier for you: how many pitches does Matt Thornton have?

You guessed it, one. What's ironic about the Sox closer having only one pitch is that when he comes in, Ozzie and Co. have rarely been able to say that their team has demonstrated the other usage of the hononymic word (won) based on what the scoreboard reads after he leaves.

Truth be told, Three Dog Night may have said it best, "One is the loneliest number that you'll ever see." Take for example, #37 in black. Where has the old reliable number 1 dangling below Pierzynski's junk gotten him? Well, for starters (no pun intended to relievers), Thornton blew his 3rd save of 2011 Wednesday afternoon and left Sox fans scratching their heads and frantically calling 670 The Score for psychoanalytic analysis on their commute home.

As far as loneliness goes, there isn't a soul around to comfort Thornton on his isolated island over the left field wall at U.S. Cellular Field. One...two...three strikes. You're out, out of a job that is.

With all of these theatricals unfolding on the South Side, no man in baseball is more content than the blonde-bearded blimp in Boston. Not only did the White Sox choose to let go of Big Bobby Jenks, who looked the part of the quintessential closer more than anyone, but he was also the subject of Oney Guillen's harassment on Twitter. Bad karma, Oney. Bad karma indeed.

As I mentioned before, what is strangely ironic about the Sox's switch in late-game relief is that they have shifted from a guy who fit the closer's role to a T to a guy who looks as out of place as Sinaedo Connor at the Vatican.

Thornton, from what I can tell in interviews seems to posses a level-headed and mild-mannered demeanor, which is far from the stereotype of your everyday closer. Normally, we see a pitcher on the mound in the 9th who's acting like he's four rows back and forty beers deep at a Godsmack concert.

And, perhaps most importantly, Thornton doesn't rock a trace of facial hair. No goatee, no broom mustache, no pencil-thin chinstrap, nothing! How does he expect to close games successfully when his facial follicle repertoire can't even prove he has graduated from adolescence.

However uncharacteristic he may be on the bump, the fact remains--he has one pitch. According to baseball-reference.com, Thorny throws gas over 90% of the time. I don't care how fast it's moving or where you can put it, big league hitters are going to figure something out. In time, hopefully the Sox can too.

As for Pick of the Day, The Pulse Man's pick was postponed last night as he looked to make it 2 straight wins. For tonight, The Pulse Man likes former-Cub, Ted Lilly and the LA Dodgers to take down the defending World Series Champs in the city by the bay.

Pick of the Day: Dodgers (Lilly) @ Giants (Sanchez)- DODGERS (+134)

Record:(64-51-0)

Now I'm done. Rack me

Frost

Forgetting Sean Marshall

Just in case you don't follow me on Twitter (@FrostyAustin), which I do not blame you for considering you are already reading this--following me on a social network may drive you to insanity 140 characters at a time--you missed out on this tweet brigade inspired by Sean Marshall's 7th inning heroics last night.

@FrostyAustin: Sean "The Adonis" Marshall, fresh off a 50/50 Svedka/Riptide Rush mixer in the pen, steps into the 1 run ballgame.

approximately 1 minute later...

@FrostyAustin: Sean "The Adonis" Marshall should be able to pitch in one of those trendy button-downs from J. Crew that are seemingly made of tissue paper.

3 minutes later...

@FrostyAustin: Sean "The Adonis" Marshall does it again. Someone get him a cigarette and an 85 lb. model to take back to the batting cage.

As you can see, "The Adonis", which is defined in Greek Mythology as a handsome youth loved by both Aphrodite and Persephone (in this case myself and Quade), has made coming in and closing the door on a prospective opponent's run look all too nonchalant. The 6'7'', 220 lb. southpaw consistently breaks loose from the restrictions of the pen and all of the mustache growing and insinuating scuttlebutt that goes on down there only to enter a baseball game set awry by the Cubs' fatigued starter.

Perhaps it's his 12-6 deuce, pinpoint slider or consistent fastball that I find to be therapeutic in watching Marshall pitch, but Sean has solidified himself as one of the most trusted names in royal-blue pinstripes.

In 2010, #45 pitched 74.2 innings as a back-end reliever and managed to rack up 90 K's compared to a meager 58 hits; all while holding his ERA below 2.65 and striking out 10.8 batters per 9. If not for Carlos Marmol's superhuman season in '10 in which it seemed like he was hurling frozen peas at hitters, Marshall's name would have drawn some serious recognition.

If you thought that was his year, wait until you hear what 2011 had in store for the city's favorite stoic strikeout artist. His alma mater, Virginia Commonwealth, reached the Final Four, and his career-long aspiration to become a starting pitcher might conceivably come true (that is, if it were up to me). Trust me, no pitcher wants to settle for being a 7th inning specialist. That's like majoring in Art History so you can give tours of the Kindergarten art classroom down the street from the Institute.

Prior to this post, I have expressed concern with the Cubs having a 5 man, all right-handed rotation. Then, when Randy Wells suffered an injury in the season's opening week, a rotation spot opened up. So what do the Cubs to? Start Casey Coleman, who went on to garner a 7.20 ERA after his first start. I'd rather have Derrick Coleman, Gary Coleman, or a Coleman cooler on the mound rather than this geek. What the Cubs don't realize is what they need is right in front of them.

It's like Omar Epps having to get down with Gabrielle Union (Shawnee Easton) and Tyra Banks (Kyra Kessler) in Love and Basketball before he realizes that he should be playing 1-on-1 with Sanaa Lathan to determine his matrimony.

The Cubs are in desperate need of a lefty starter and they're taking out a singles ad in the Trib that reads "Wanted: wholesome, smart woman" when they have a Natalie Portman-Anne Hathaway crossbreed in their culdesac. Sure, he's great in his current role, but you can't steal 2nd and keep your foot on 1st. "He is Marshall".

As for Pick of the Day, the Pulse Man got the nod last night as the Cubs held on in Space City. For tonight, the Pulse Man likes the Mets over the Rockies in the Big Apple.

Pick of the Day: Rockies (Rogers) @ Mets (Niese)- METS (-109)

Record:(64-51-0)

Now I'm done. Rack me

Frost

Playoffs in the C-H-I

The Hawks are in. The Bulls are in. Regardless of the fact that they may have done so in the most contradictory of styles, they're both ready to embark on their 'second season'. The Bulls, in one corner, clinched the highly-regarded #1 spot on Friday night after the week that was.

To get there, they knocked off two of the Eastern Conference's top teams--the Magic and the Celtics--albeit without the NBA equivalent of John Coffee from Green Mile, Magic C Dwight Howard, it was still impressive. The Bulls have looked, for the most part, pristine. Specifically Derrick Rose, who casually dropped 39 points against Chicago's likely second round opponent and gave Omer Asik bragging rights from Istanbul to Ankara over the Magic's Hedo Turkoglu.

On the other side of the proverbial coin, the Blackhawks skated into the playoffs (no pun intended) by "the skin of their yellow country teeth." In fact, the only reason there will be any 'playoff Hawky' (shoutout @Not_RyanCLind) in the city of Chicago is because of the NHL's Minnesota team debarring of the Dallas Stars for stealing their franchise in 1993.

I guess you could say that these two Chicago sports mainstays have taken different paths this year, but in many ways still have the same aspirations. Like, for example, the starlet who once paraded around the Times Square TRL set with Carson Daly, Brittney Spears, and America's new teenage leading lady, Miss Miley Cyrus.

Much like Derrick Rose, Miley has mystified scores of men at a very young age. I mean, if we prosecuted the entire contingency of adults who have fantasized about the formerly 17-year old Miley "moving her hips like yeaa" in the "Party in the U.S.A" video, Joliet (where the jail is) might suddenly amass a higher population than Second City.

Similarly, D.Rose is about to hang the MVP trophy on his mantle at the tender age of 22--no small feat. But, like Miley, if too much pressure is thrust on Derrick too early, he might succumb to hitting some salvia as the Bulls' championship hopes sink like a silver coin. (Remember: he did have that "gang sign" picture controversy when he first entered the league, so neither are immune to the paparazzi.)

In the Blackhawks' case, their season has been as capricious as a post-Circus Brittney Spears (Circus is an album, she wasn't actually an acting member of the circus). For instance, she hit rock-bottom and went blade to scalp on her dome; an instance that can be seen as comparable to the defending Stanley Cup champions being out of the playoff picture for a decent amount of the year.

Then, she somehow resurfaced with the help of someone else (Hawks getting in by way of the Stars collapse) and went on to produce an unintelligible, inauthentic, computer-generated product that started with monologues like, "It's Brittney, b*%#@" that never lived up to her original masterful productions.

I don't watch near enough hockey to throw odds on the Blackhawks playoff chances, but when you can't get up to beat your rival in a must-win with your back against the wall, I'll send my money somewhere else.

As for the Bulls, like I said earlier, if the right circumstances fall into place, it all could happen according to plan. But, we all saw what that Billy Ray parenting/divorce/bad haircut fiasco did to a young vixen like Miley. If things go awry, the Bulls could resemble more of Jonah Hill's version of Cyrus than Miley's.

As for Pick of the Day, the Pulse Man likes Dempster to get off the shnide and out of the dumpster in Houston against the Astros tonight. I wouldn't say it's a must-win for the Cubs cannuck, but it's damn close.

Pick of the Day: Cubs @ Astros- CUBS (-129)

Record:(63-51-0)

Now I'm done. Rack me

Frost

For Richmond or For Poorer

Picture a city nestled in the northeast corner of Illinois. A place where you can--if you have a good arm--throw a stone in one direction and hit a Wisconsinite, and into Lake Michigan if you sling it the opposite way. A place where unemployment and poverty are high and the quality of life is low. A place that's referred to as "the county seat" of Lake County more because it renders the imagination to envision an actual toilet rather than because of its administrative purposes. Ladies and gentleman, Waukegan, Illinois.

Recently, one of Waukegan's only recognizable inhabitants, Illinois guard Jereme Richmond, decided to forgo his final 3 years of college and enter the NBA draft. Besides the point that Jereme could have become a part of the vast minority in his hometown had he earned his collegiate diploma from U of I, he has disappointed many in his most recent decision to abandon the Illini.

Upon the announcement of his controversial decision, Richmond presumptively received ill-will in a variety of forms. In fact, @JRichmond22 was bombarded with so much negative energy that he responded with this tweet:

"Thanks to my haters and motivators. If I so happen to fail, I want my doubters to know my failure is greater than your biggest success"

Ok, so was this a mature, thoughtful and appropriate response? Hell no, it's Jereme Richmond. Apparently he hasn't hired a publicist yet. This is the same guy that caused more high school drama than Randy Moss and A.I. combined and was suspended for Illinois' trip to the dance for "violating team rules" (which I heard was exchanging blows with Brandon Paul).

As Destiny's Child said with the title of their sophomore album, "The Writing is on the Wall".

Richmond's freshman year in Champaign was a far cry from what he thought it would be. When you commit when you're 14, you expect to start when you arrive on campus--a scenario that was simply never the case.

It was glaringly obvious that Richmond wasn't happy with Weber, his teammates, or the collective female crop in Champaign who have a mean ACT score of 29 (about 12 points too high to go home with Jereme).

Still, I feel for the Central Suburban South product. After living in Waukegan and then Urbana-Champaign, I sure hope Jereme doesn't end up somewhere like Toronto with those cheese-eating surrender monkeys (shout out Mike in Indy) dressed head-to-toe in denim like J.T. and Brittney at the 2001 AMA's.

We all know Jereme is no lottery pick, but I think he has NBA athleticism and an amount of potential that will cause a team to roll the dice on the 19 year-old. Sure, he's got baggage. And, when I say baggage I don't mean a tote bag or one of those abominable AAU drawstring backpacks. I'm talking about an assortment of Samsonites stuffed to the brim like a Glencoe housewife prepping for a trip to the Florida Keys.

Then again, who doesn't have baggage in the NBA? I see Richmond as a Matt Barnes-like chippy, under your skin type defender/role player. Although Richmond is young, and judging by his actions at Illinois incontrovertibly dumb, as each detestable tattoo pops onto his body like a pubescent whitehead, he will earn his stripes in the Association.

Someone has to take his side, right? Waukegan's proud of you Jereme--they have no other choice--Ray Bradbury and Fahrenheit 451 are becoming a little outdated for continuous celebration.

As for Pick of the Day, the Pulse Man was doomed by the Butler Bulldogs and their sub-20% shooting percentage in the national title game. For his next bet, the Pulse Man likes the UNDER (8.5) in the White Sox/Rays tilt tomorrow night at the Cell.

Pick of the Day: Rays @ White Sox, total runs-8.5-UNDER

Record:(62-51-0)

Now I'm done. Rack me

Frost

Spittin' His Game

In case you have failed to notice, Alfonso Soriano spits more than any other human on the planet Earth. Honestly, he's like a stable llama on Mucinex--it's disgusting. Watch for it, you'll undoubtedly lose your appetite. But for the first time in a long time, Alfonso Soriano is starting to spit his game in between the chalk lines at Wrigley rather than littering the dugout floor with his own saliva.

Through the first four games of the young season, our $136 million man has actually been relatively productive, particularly Monday afternoon in the matinee tilt against Arizona. Soriano had not one, but two timely hits in the span of a single game, which eclipses his total set for the entire month of April in 2010. He has become, if nothing else, the most feared 7 hitter in the National League.

If you think that I'm sitting in Alf's corner breezing him with one of those oriental hand fans, that's simply not the case. I'll admit, 'the hop' is stupid. He's a horrible fielder, he's prone to the strikeout, and he still speaks that incomprehensible Spanglish jibberish after 13 years in the MLB.

But if we've learned anything about #12 during his career with the Cubs it's that the more he is relied upon, the more he lets you down. High expectations weigh him down like he's doggy-paddling holding 50 lb. dumbbells. Take for example 2006, Soriano's last year with the Nationals. With their only aspiration for that season being to not be as poor of a franchise as the Washington Wizards, Soriano flourished. He hit .277, cranked 46 out of that supposed "pitcher's ballpark" in D.C. and snagged 46 bases, all while mindlessly voicing his personal preference to play the infield.

Since that successful season in the nation's capital, Soriano's totals have dropped considerably every year and he hasn't once stole 20 bases as a member of the Cubs. He's swiftly plummeted from prohibitive All-Star to yearly "fall guy".

Do I think that paying your 7th hitter that you often replace late in games for defensive purposes $17 million is a good idea? Not necessarily, but I think that Soriano can certainly benefit from it. Cub fans have become so disgruntled with bad contracts and underachieving free-agents on a yearly basis that voicing their displeasure with Soriano at this point has become a waste of breath.

On Monday, his two clutch hits, including his 2nd home run propelled the Cubs back to the .500 mark. If he can continue to outproduce Skip Schumaker, the Cardinals' 7th hitter and consummate league dork, the pressure should remain off Soriano's slump-susceptible shoulders. If not, this was all just me spitting into the wind.

Now I'm done. Rack me

Frost

Eating Is Cheating

As a Cub fan, there isn't much to be hopeful for after watching the North Siders drop their season opener, their home opener, and their opening series of the season all to the lowly Pittsburgh Pirates.

If you're anything like me, you were watching the Cubs and pondering a few critical questions that arose in your mind. For instance, what nationality is Darwin Barney? Is he the kind of guy who fills in the Asian/Pacific Islander bubble during standardized testing questionnaires? I couldn't even make a guess as to what is actual ethnicity is, but regardless, the question remains, why the hell is he in the game?

After I got over this brief episode of Barney Darwinism, not to be confused with the laissez-faire capitalism movement that helped spawn Social Darwinism, I came to the conclusion that the Cubs and Sox have a plethora of toothpick-framed youngsters filling out their lineup cards.

Since my optimism level with the 2011 Cubs is already pretty low, I figured it might be necessary to draw on the humor card early on to help keep Cub nation's collective sanity in check. So, this is me channeling my inner Bon Iver (shout out Matt DeMars) and giving some "Skinny Love" where credit is due.

Darwin Barney- 5'10'', 179 lbs. I know 2nd baseman aren't typically built like The Big Show, but our little purple dinosaur manning the right side of our double-play combo is small even amongst the fraternity of National League 2nd baseman.

Granted, he's 5 foot 10, Asian (I think), and rocks meticulously tousled hair underneath his lid, so you have to give him the nod as the league's most unassuming Major Leaguer. Still, if he continues to get starts for the Cubs and goes on to never reach the outfield with a batted baseball until mid-July, we'll all know why.

Starlin Castro- 6'1'', 187 lbs. Honestly, I think 187 is a stretch for Starlin, who on opening day was dubbed as the youngest player in the bigs. He recently turned 21, so he'll be looking to add some beer weight and play 3rd base on a park district softball league team in no time.

All joking aside though, the Cubs are going to rely on their Castro more so than Cuba does theirs, because as the lead-off man he'll be responsible for taking pitches, working counts, and slapping singles all while trying to get his GED online from learn4good.com.

Andrew Cashner- 6'7'', 200 lbs. If you can't recall any people who fit the Andrew Cashner body frame, do this: think of all the members you can on your high school's cross country team, then think of who was the tallest and looked the skinniest in those Asics high rise shorts. There you have it. Over 6 foot 5 and under 2 bills is borderline malnourishment.

If Cashner wasn't straight out of a Celtic 3-piece band, he would be being sponsored for a $1 a day on one of those adopt-a-child commercials that pull at your heartstrings like a puppeteer.

Although he hasn't made his first official start in 2011 just yet, I caught a glimpse of Cash during the national anthem today and was convinced that I had seen him chain-smoking Parliaments outside Mystic Celt on Southport in olive green corduroys with a 29 inch waistline. Let's hope he can deal.

Alexei Ramirez- 6'2'', 175 lbs. The Cuban Missile is about as thick as thistle, and even that might be a tad generous. Although he's still very young, he looks as though he's been eating nothing but rationed cornmeal since he was old enough to chew.

Somehow, someway, he's been able to muster some serious pop in his bat and is also notorious for having a cannon of an arm from the deep hole (unintentional correlation with the whole Cuban Missile thing). I've always liked Alexei, but as Frank Costello says to a young Billy Costigan in The Departed, "EAT SOMETHING!"

Omar Vizquel- 5'9'', 155 lbs. The veteran leader of the "Thin Mitts" is our favorite 43 year-old infielder, Omar Enrique Vizquel. As Jack "the Body" Groot so eloquently laid out in a guest blog late last season, Omar looks like he should be pushing a mop and bucket in a gray onesie with a sewn on patch that reads "Omar" above his left breast at your local high school.

Instead, he has done nothing but make every play at every position he has been asked to play. Tipping the scales at 155 lbs, Omar would probably be a weight-class below most pregnant women, and for succeeding at that stature, I have nothing but respect for him.

There you have it. In a time period where skinny jeans are in style, and Calista Flockhart, Mischa Barton and Nicole Richie have all managed to receive a substantial amount of fame, I guess "thin is in". Let the big dogs eat.

As for Pick of the Day, Brittney Griner let the Pulse Man down and reassured us all that you can never trust a woman over 6'6''. For tomorrow night's national title game, the Pulse Man likes the largest lead of the game to be UNDER 13.5, which I agree is a ludicrous line.

Pick of the Day: Butler vs. UCONN, largest lead of the game-13.5- UNDER

Record:(62-50-0)

Lastly, upon visiting some college friends this weekend in LaCrosse, Wisconsin, we managed to create the inaugural Chicago Sports Noise podcast. As soon as we figure out how to post it, you'll be able to hear it. God bless whoever sits through it.

Now I'm done. Rack me

Frost