Not that Broxton was the only Dodger hurler to get shelled during tonight's 11-4 thumping against Washington.  But his was the easiest last name to turn into a snappy title, so he got the nod.  Nothing personal, Big Jon.  Besides, I'll go out on a limb and predict that Broxton's standards for himself are high enough that he'd consider his four earned runs, two hits and two walks over two-thirds of an inning fair game for a zinger.

The Dodgers, like the rest of baseball, have their share of stars.  Guys like Jeff Kent, Derek Lowe, or Luis Gonzalez who have made big money and carved out long and in at least Kent's case, Hall of Fame caliber careers.  On the other end of the spectrum are players like Rudy Seanez.  Originally drafted in June of 1986- there aren't many guys still in uniform who sport "Class of '86" buttons- by the Indians, his big league career reads more like concert tour than anything else.  Cleveland, San Diego, Los Angeles, Atlanta, San Diego (again), Atlanta (again), Texas, Boston, Kansas City, Florida, San Diego (again squared), Boston (again), San Diego (again cubed), and this year, he's returned to the Dodgers for a second go round.  Include his minor league stops, and it's fair to say the man has seen much of America.  Toss in Tommy John surgery in 2000, and Seanez becomes a study in perseverance and endurance.

He's managed to stake out over eleven years of Major League service in twenty plus seasons as a pro, despite always seeming to pitch on the fringes.  In this day of big contracts and egos, when Seanez talks about appreciating the game and loving what he does, you can believe him. 

Sure, a lot of those politicians may not have realized the Nationals played a game yesterday. Or that D.C. even has a baseball team. But if you're one of those folks who takes victories over anything "Washington" as "sticking it to the man," a 5-0 blanking of the Nats equals a bunch of self-serving bureaucrats being put on notice. But after criticizing those yahoos for the crummy job they're doing passing bills, save a little of that venom for Derek Lowe. Assuming there's even anything left to say about his weak stuff, since he was pretty thorough in bashing his seven innings worth of 5K/3H/0R.  Guess there's no pleasing some people (although Rick Honeycutt may not qualify as "some"). Although, despite what some folks say, Russell Martin's actually pleased with Blue offense. After seeing what everyone from himself to Lowe contributed to the box score's run department, it's easy to understand why he's willing to get a little geeked in the face of pessimism.

For the second night in a row the Blue scored enough runs, and more importantly didn't allow a Nationals player to touch home plate.  Not from third, at least, as they offed Washington at RFK 5-0 behind seven stellar innings of three hit ball from Derek Lowe, a two-run bomb from Russell Martin, and a pair of hits each for Rafael Furcal and Luis Gonzalez.  How good was the groove on Wedesday night?  Lowe, who generally swings the bat like a man with a serious allergy to wood, managed to reach base three times.  He singled in the third, then added two walks and a run scored.  This is a trend unlikely to continue, so it's probably worth clipping the box score for use in the ol' time capsule. 

And cynics say nothing good ever comes out of D.C.  Shame on them.  More on the game tomorrow.

BK

... wait for it...

batty.

Hey, if that pun is the worst you're stuck dealing with as a prize for a 10-0 win over the Washington Nationals, I imagine that'll work every time and then some.  What began as an everyday, average, ho-hum pre-game routine for the speedy (and often under-performing) new Dodger turned into a explosion at the dish.  Four hits in five at bats, three of which were doubles and the other a triple (His first of the season.  It's a "Dear Diary" day!!!).  Hell, had that slacker Brad Penny not been gumming up the works on the base paths, Pierre might have made it a pair of three-baggers (and at least another ribbie).  But Penny redeemed his Yugo-like running prowess with yet another productive outing on the mound.  How checked did Penny leave the Nats?  While minding second base, Jeff Kent didn't chat up a Washington player until the seventh inning.   That ain't bad.  Between Penny's chucking and the collective Blue bats, it would have basically been impossible for Yhency Brazoban and Brett Tomko to take over and screw up the box score.   As it was, they actually carried out the goose egg parade.

I think it's fair to say that when Juan Pierre has four extra base hits, his team is going to win.  That kind of thing just doesn't happen very often.  As in, never, before tonight, when Pierre ripped a triple and three doubles in five ABs as the Dodgers cruised to a 10-0 win over the Nationals in Washington Tuesday night.  As you might glean from the score, it was a rock solid night all around for the Blue.  6 1/3 shutout innings from Brad Penny (7-1).  A three run jack from Luis Gonzalez.  Three hits, two RBI for Nomar, two hits and two runs scored for Tony Abreu.  Yhency Brazoban lowering his ERA to a more manageable 16.20 with a perfect 2/3 of an inning.  RFK is a football stadium, and the Dodgers hung a nice football number on the scoreboard.  Solid.

More on the game in the morning.

BK

As the Dodgers begin a three-day series against the Washington Nationals, one featuring the still-smoking Brad Penny vs. the apparently faceless Jason Simontacchi, we are reminded of the message our government has imparted upon us since this nation's founding: That America is a place where dreams can be achieved.  And for a few young Dodgers, that sentiment is being experienced and believed.  For young Andre Ethier, his dreams are being fed through acquired smarts.  For young Yhency Brazoban, his dreams are being achieved by enduring the roughest of times.  And for young Russell Martin, who appears to be on an unusually accelerated path, his dreams are being achieved in part through the guidance of a Blue fave.

Who knows if the Dodgers of tomorrow will look to seize those same opportunities?  And if the Dodgers dreams of a solid hot corner man will ever come to fruition?

The monumentally Cublike way in which Chicago managed to gift wrap Sunday's 2-1 Dodgers win was certainly noteworthy.  Three walks, a missed attempt to catch a guy off second base, and a hit batter to finally lose it?   No Dodger puts a ball in play?  If you wrote a movie where Chicago loses a critical game in that fashion, people would dismiss it as cliche. "That wouldn't even happen to the Cubs," they'd say. 

But as much fun as that was (I already sent a note to my buddy J.T., a native of the Windy City and devoted Cubs fan, making fun of his team), the most interesting part of the game came in the eighth.  Lots of maneuvering, a few pitching changes, and very mixed results for each manager.  It's was the sort of stuff that makes baseball ripe for debate, provided a good illustration of long term and short term thinking and how it can impact a game, and perhaps a small window into managerial styles. (Note:  If you're not the type who likes to dissect strategy, you'll want to skip the rest of this post...) 

That's how the Chicago Cubs must have felt after seeing Juan Pierre deflect a pitch with his knee to trigger a 2-1 Dodger victory.   Pierre was at the plate with all the bases occupied, no outs and Chicago already out of sorts after Ramon Martinez's whiffle ball prowess put him at third base in scoring position.  You can thank Cubs catcher Michael Barrett for the staggering brain cramp.  With Wilson Betemit already on first courtesy of a walk, superior mitt man Rafael Furcal got the identical, identical treatment to create a force at home.  Cue errant pitch into Pierre's knee.  Cue win.  Which was nice, considering Russell Martin had literally bent over backwards earlier to make an out.

The Cubs and Dodgers go way back.  Horse and buggy back.  Spanish-American War back.  Entering Sunday afternoon's game, in their long often illustrious (Dodgers) and disastrous (Chicago) histories they'd met a total of 2,012 times, and in a bit of a statistical oddity, the series was dead even at 1,006 wins apiece.  So this game wasn't just about two teams trying to keep and/or gain some momentum in the 2007 season.  This was about over a hundred years of history.  Of toil.  Of sweat.  Of itchy woolen uniforms that induced sweat when toiled in.  About bragging rights in two of America's finest cities, and being able to look a Cub or a Dodger square in the eye, pop 'em in the nose and declare, "We own you!"  Maybe that explains why L.A.'s 2-1 win in 11 innings was so tight.  Both teams recognized this game was bigger than all of us.