Down On Half Street: Now we know about Garrett Mock; but despite his struggles, his latest (and first) outing as a Nat hasn’t changed my high expectations. Don Sutton had him right: he thinks too much. I had a kid like this in Babe Ruth baseball. All he did was throw strikes — until he was about 14. Then suddenly the light went off and he became a puddle of water. It looked like that today with Mock: in the first half of the fifth (as he got closer to being the winning pitcher-of-record) he started nibbling on the corners, walked some batters …. and bang, he was done.  It was almost as if he suddenly realized that he was in the big leagues and that if he just, well, started to act like a big league pitcher he would have a chance to stick.

Still, the stuff he has (a good cutter, curve, slider and change-up), his “athleticism” (gag) and a little seasoning and he’s a good number two or three. Jimmy made a good deal –Livan to Arizona for him and Matt Chico. This is only the beginning for Mock. If he stays healthy (that’s an issue — he’s had shoulder bursitis, a knee problem, and blisters), he’ll only get better. I like it that he’s 6-3, 240.

The collapse of the Nats bullpen against the stinking Giants has been a sight, I must say. You could have heard a pin drop when Manny visited the mound in the third inning on Friday to have a short chat with Jason Bergman. I’ve never seen Acta more angry. I love to see this:

The one good thing about the 10-1 blowout was that it gave me some time to walk around the stadium and take in the sights. I went out to the Red Loft and stood in the SRO section. Pretty interesting: I don’t think anyone I saw there (all under 30, it looked like) knew there was a game going on. But a whole bevy of guys were keeping score on the porch in Centerfield, at least 10 or fifteen of them, watching the game intently. I wonder if this is some kind of trend I don’t know about.

Juan Marichal: Sutton allowed as how Tim Lincecum (now 8-1) was well within the tradition of great Giant pitchers “like Juan Marichal, et. al.” … and so I started to think about that. Marichal brings back memories of the 1965 pennant race. In a summer of increasing brawls (see below), there was no more brawling summer than the summer of ‘65 and there was no more famous fight than the one between Marichal and Johnny Roseboro, the Dodgers’ catcher. We live in an era when the Yanks and the Bosox hate each other and that seems to have gone on forever. But no one hated each other more than the Dodgers and Giants. And I hated them both.

Anyway, in the midst of the ‘65 pennant race, on August 22, Marichal knocked down the Dodgers’ Ron Fairly and Maury Wills. Koufax, who was on the mound, refused to retaliate, but when Marichal came to bat, Roseboro threw the ball back to Koufax a little too close to Marichal’s nose. Marichal ignored Roseboro, but when the Dodger catcher did it a second time, Marichal clubbed Roseboro in the head with his bat and the benches emptied. Marichal opened a cut on Roseboro’s head that had to be closed with stitches, and all the newspapers showed blood pouring down poor Johnny’s face. The Giants seemed large unsympathetic, while the Dodger fans squeeled like pigs and the Congress threatened hearings. I swear, that’s how bad it got. The Dodger’s thought Marichal should have been arrested, if you can imagine that.

Marichal was suspended for eight games. Roseboro and Marichal wouldn’t talk to each other for years and fans speculated that the hold-up in Marichal’s being elected to the Hall was his unwillingness to make up to Roseboro. Eventually, they became friends — and Marichal was elected soon after, in 1983. For the record: Marichal was 22-13 in ‘65 and the Giants finished second. The Dodgers (Koufax, Drysdale, Osteen, Podres) beat the Twins in seven games in the World Series that year.

The Nation: My buddy Dwilly: you remember him? Here’s Dwilly –

Well, anyway, my buddy Dwilly sent me a rather smug email a couple of weeks ago suggesting that the fact that the Sawx had signed starter Bartolo Colon had solidified their rotation. I had to admit, he had a point. Colon was a wizard with the Belinski’s where (in both 2004 and 2005) he proved nearly unhittable. His shoulder and elbow healed after nearly two years of nagging pain. So the Red Sox took a chance on Colon — and were rewarded with three quality starts.  But his last left something to be desired: against the Mariners on Saturday, Colon lasted five innings and committed two errors. Still, I admit, he’s a hellofagoodpickup …. and if he can pitch like he did in May, the Nation will be happy.

So you will notice that in “Emerging 8s” (that’s a post on centerfielders I wrote last week, you remember that, right?), I did not mention Coco Crisp. There’s a reason for that. I told Tom …. here’s Tom …

(this is probably old by now, but I have to set the scene), anyway I told Tom two years ago that Coco Crisp was not the Coco Crisp that he thought he was — and that if the mighty Indians of Cleveland were willing to part with him (to the Red Sox no less), there was probably a good reason for that. In fact, there is a good reason for that — he’s not that good. His power numbers are anemic (eight and six homes runs in Boston over the last two seasons), and his stolen base numbers for the same two years (22 and 28) are bare compensation. Don’t tell me he’s good defensively, hell, I’m good defensively. What really bothers me is that the Slugs considered trading for him and putting him in Centerfield. I kid you not.

But the one thing about Coco, apparently, is that he’s not afraid to fight. The best video of the tiff is here, and it’s worth seeing.

Ivy Leaguers: Instead of getting Coco Crisp, the Cubs picked up Jim Edmunds. The Cubs GM said that the Edmunds trade was a good one, because it didn’t cost the club anything. But it sent me to my bed for a full day. It also denied me, and thousands like me, of one of my pet hatreds. Worse: it deprived Carlos Zambrano of someone to throw at. ”Watch out Jim, here it comes,” the fans behind home plate would yell at Edmunds. How bad is it? Edmonds’ first hit as a slug was a double and the Wrigley faithful booed him. Jimmy has figured this out: when Carlos started throwing things around the dugout in LA yesterday, Edmunds started walking down the bench — getting as far away from him as possible. Good idea.

One of Slugdoms favorite fan razzes is now lost to all time. “Hey Jim, where are my chicken wings?” This refrain is chanted by the bleacher bums in centerfield at Wrigley everytime Edmunds appears. Jim, you see, left his wife to marry a waitress from Hooters. That’s right. Hooters. Smart guy, huh? He’s notorious. Before leaving St. Louis, Jim styled himself a restauranteur and opened “15″ — a “high end” eaterie cum disco. “15?” That’s his number with “the Redbirds” don’tchaknow. It looks like something he’d do and I’m sure it’s all the rage for those high end dudes down in St. Louie land, where they love their three day old lobsters, their Chicago-killed beeves and their Budweiser. “I’ll have the Salmon and a Bud Light, please, and tell Jim if he has a minute to come on out here and bring that pretty little button Charlene with him.”

A sportswriter passed all of this, this, this … bad blood … off the other day, by saying that after Jim had got his stroke back and put a couple of homers out of Wrigley, “all will be forgotten” and the Cubs faithful will open their arms wide and welcome Jimmy-boy as one of their own.

Guess again.