No comfort for the Wolverine

Hey Michigan….

Yeah, that went about as well as could be expected for Hoke’s squad. Vastly overranked at 8, they got chewed up and spat out by a reloaded Alabama team that, under Saban, is producing NFL players at a terrifying clip.

Even overrated, this was about what we expected from any Big 10 – Alabama matchup. Recall what the 9-3 2010 Alabama team did to Michigan State in the Capital One Bowl, which remains the only time I’ve ever seen a team forced to punt on 4th and goal.

Also as expected, Alabama snags the top spot in the polls, leapfrogging even sportswriter fave USC in the process; the Trojans don’t play quality until November (Oregon on the 3rd).

LSU will drop again before they rise, since they’ve opted to open against creampuffs (and even their SEC schedule starts soft, with Auburn on the 22nd; they don’t play a quality team until Florida in October).

Rightly or wrongly, Michigan counts as a quality win, and those are in short supply early in the year (even if, after the rout, they’ve been dropped to #19).

The new top 10:

  1. Alabama
  2. USC
  3. LSU
  4. Oregon
  5. Oklahoma
  6. Florida State
  7. Georgia
  8. Arkansas
  9. South Carolina / West Virginia (tie)

FSU is way overrated. I’m shocked that South Carolina is still in the top ten, too, given their shaky performance over the weekend — the Gamecocks only barely escaped Vanderbilt.

Bama should cruise over Western Kentucky next weekend without trouble, but meets Arkansas the week after in the first (or second?) real test of the season.

Roll Tide, and pass the whiskey.

And now: The Football Previews

First, the usual Hater’s Guide at Deadspin, and then the somewhat more focussed and — let’s be fair — relevant Why The Rest Of The SEC Hates You.

The former’s best bit:

Turning our attention to football, how much fun is it that USC is ranked No. 1? That’ll make it all the more enjoyable when the Trojans get destroyed by an SEC school in the national title game. USC is 10 times more lovable when it’s getting crushed. And I remain in awe of Lane Kiffin, a man who now sits atop the college football rankings without actually having done anything, ever. He’s amazing.

So true. I’m not playing favorites; Deadspin continues thusly:

  1. Alabama. I appreciate Nick Saban for being, in essence, the anti-Joe Paterno. There’s no illusion of affection here. No coddling. No “I’m going to turn these wayward young boys into fine young men” bullshit. Saban is precisely what a college football coach should be: a merciless, evil man who will eat your liver raw if you dare get in the way of him winning football games. Anyone not interested in winning games can go get FUCKED, and I find that kind of attitude refreshing in a sea of phony sentimental profiles of coaching legends. No one loves Nick Saban, and that’s good because no one should ever love football coaches. Football coaches are horrible people.

And I salute Alabama fans for their terrifying devotion to FOOTBAW. Can you imagine what Alabama people would be capable of without football to occupy them? I think we should all be happy that the Crimson Tide are there to distract them from starting Racial Holy War. Such shiny helmets.

Once again, Roll Tide.

Pelts and Vendettas and You

You probably heard the news today that Lance Armstrong has declined to engage with the USADA’s witch hunt and cherry-picked arbitration proceedings, which means that body will seek to have him stripped of his Tour de France titles.

Process for a moment that:

  • The most recent event for which he’ll actually be sanctioned is from 2005.
  • They seek to punish him going all the way back to 1999.
  • They have refused to disclose any evidence prior to arbitration.
  • Armstrong never tested positive when racing.
  • The “case” from the USADA is based entirely on accusations from racers who may or may not have made deals to protect their own careers or fortunes. They have zero physical evidence.

I don’t actually care, at this point, if he doped back then or not. Given what we now know of the culture of pro cycling until the last several years, it’s at least possible. But, as in any sport, there are rules and there are rules about following those rules. Lance’s career was during a dope-heavy era; he followed the rules, though, at least as far as not testing positive. And he was tested very, very often. There were no positive tests. Punishing him in 2012 for things that were gray areas or unclear in 2001 seems unfair. Punishing him for “suspicion of doping” — which is what this boils down to — is a travesty.

I think Lance is correct to refuse to engage any further. It is abundantly obvious that the USADA and Tyler Tygart are deeply invested in punishing him regardless of the facts. It’s unclear to me what benefit they’ll gain by doing this, or why this was a better use of their resources than clean-racing programs and enforcement for people actually still racing. It reeks of ex post facto enforcement, and it does not deserve to be treated with the dignity a fair proceeding would merit.

That’s not all, though. Tygart and his cronies will also, through this action, almost certainly harm the work that has defined post-Tour Lance Armstrong: Cancer support and fundraising. They’re not helping cycling, and they’re harming Livestrong.org as “collateral damage,” and are apparently okay with this.

That’s some serious bullshit, and makes it look even MORE like an ugly vendetta.

If you agree with me, why don’t you go here and join me in supporting Livestrong’s efforts. (If you’re curious, here’s their CharityNavigator rating.)

They make it easy and painless to do one-time or recurring donations; the latter is my favorite option — it spreads gifts over time, and makes things automatic. You can even do it in honor, or in memory, of someone.

Go. Give. Make something positive of this witch hunt. You Heathen usually have at least a few extra bucks rattling around, right?

Dept. of Amusing Statistics

I noticed earlier that conference realignment in the SEC has put an end to one of my favorite little stats: the fact that Alabama has a winning record against everyone in the SEC. Missouri and Alabama have played only 3 times, but Mizzou took 2 of those games.

I’m sure this is something Alabama will fix as quickly as possible (they play this year, which should at least even it up, but scheduling voodoo is such that it may take a while to get the third win), but it got me wondering: Who has a winning record vs. Alabama nationwide?

Turns out, not many folks do. This site and this site both have lists, but (somewhat amazingly) the first one misses Texas, and therefore makes a completely incorrect assertion by stating nobody who’s played Bama more than six times comes out ahead. Texas was for years 7-0-1 vs the Tide; they didn’t lose to Bama until the 2009 title game, but they’re still way out ahead.

Anyway, if we look at both lists and eliminate the 1-game-wonders (as statistically meaningless) as well as any team that no longer exists or plays football, we’re left with ten squads:

  • Boston College: 3-1 – last game was 1984.
  • Louisiana Tech: 2-3 – last game was 1999.
  • Michigan: 1-2 – last game was 2000.
  • Missouri: 1-2 – last game was 1978.
  • Notre Dame: 1-5 – last game was 1987.
  • Oklahoma: 1-2-1 – last game was 2003.
  • Rice: 0-3 – last game was 1956.
  • Texas Christian: 2-3 – last game was 1975.
  • UCLA: 1-2 – last game was 2001
  • Texas: 1-7-1 – last game was the 2009 BCS title game played in 1/2010

Alabama opens against Michigan; there’s a strong potential to even up the record there. As I noted above, they will play and probably beat Missouri on October 13. I can’t imagine Alabama scheduling any of the rest of these teams on their own, so those records, like the Michigan record after this year’s game, will likely stay where they are until the Magic Bowl-Scheduling Hoodoo produces another matchup. But it’s a pleasantly short list that’s pleasantly short of meaningful gaps. Perhaps Alabama should slot in a rebuilding Texas and perennially hapless Irish to fix those two records after all.

It begins.

The preseason coaches’ poll is out. LSU’s on top, followed by Alabama, USC, Oklahoma, and Oregon in that order.

FIVE of the top ten are SEC squads.

If Alabama wins their opener against #8 Michigan, look for them to slide into the top spot. LSU’s slate is front-loaded with serious creampuffs; they don’t play in-conference until Auburn on September 22. They also don’t play a ranked nonconference team all season.

Truth in Advertising, or, The Fighting Irish Suck Early This Year

Notre Dame starting QB Tommy Rees was at a house party last night, as college kids are wont to do. It was loud, as such affairs frequently are, so the police showed up to shut it down.

This would ordinarily not be a big deal, except that 19-year-old Rees, in an apparent bid to dodge the possible minor-in-possession ticket, jumped the fence to escape. South Bend police, seeing a runner, gave chase and caught him quickly, whereupon Rees upped the ante and kicked one of the cops. Fight the power, Tommy!

Mr Rees was then peppersprayed and arrested, and is being held on preliminary felony charges: resisting law enforcement, felony battery to law enforcement, the aforementioned MIP, and PI as the cherry on top. Linebacker Carlo Calabrese was also arrested, on charges of disorderly conduct most likely due to threatening a police officer (“My people are going to get you,” said mighty Calabrese) when he realized the intended to arrest Rees even after being informed that he was, like, a football star.

ESPN has basically the same story.

I love the Onion

No One Can Remember Seeing Houston Astros For At Least A Week:

The Houston Astros, described by police as a 50-year-old franchise last seen wearing a white pinstriped uniform with its name on the front and known locally for performing baseball in front of downtown crowds for money, has been missing since at least last week, when it was reportedly expected to meet a franchise it knew in Milwaukee. “We were initially contacted Saturday by the owner, who had gone to check in on the Astros two days previously and found the team wasn’t home,” said city police chief Charles McClelland, adding that the Astros lived alone in Minute Maid Park, a public housing facility owned by the county. “People who were aware of the franchise say they didn’t remember it really having any friends or loved ones, so that’s partly why it’s been difficult to pin down exactly when it went missing. The last time anyone can remember the Astros doing anything was in 2005, actually.” McClelland also said the franchise may have been distraught after suffering heavy losses as of late and filing for bankruptcy, so police are treating the case as a possible suicide

Trent Richardson: Stand-Up Guy

Courtney Alvis of Hueytown, Alabama got to spend her junior year of high school battling leukemia. She’s gotten well enough to go to her senior prom, but was without a date.

Trent Richardson, Heisman finalist and certain first-round pick at the NFL draft in 10 days — and perhaps more significantly the son of a cancer survivor — decided he’d solve the problem.

Alvis, for her part, was elected prom queen with Richardson at her side.

Timberlake and Kunis got nothing on this guy. Roll Tide, people.

Dept. of Very Smart Football Writing

It’s rare you see a piece about any sport that’s both accessible to non-maniacal fans and astute in its analysis, so I urge you to take a moment and read Grantland’s piece on Tebow and the Jets. It includes this very succinct discussion of the mechanics of play design and what the “spread” or “wildcat” is that, even for a fan like me, seems perfect in its clarity:

With 11 players to each side, every play — but particularly run plays — often comes down to how the offense does or does not account for one or two particular defenders. In the modern NFL, if all of an offense’s players block their counterparts on a running play, the defense will have two defenders unaccounted for: The counterpart for the running back carrying the ball and the counterpart for the quarterback, who most likely has handed the ball off. Good quarterbacks like Peyton Manning seek to control their counterpart by faking a play-action pass, so that a deep safety must stand in the middle of the field.

But the ballcarrier still has a counterpart. NFL offenses work extremely hard to dictate who that guy will be — with motion, different blocking schemes, and even using wide receivers to block interior defenders — but at some point the math is the math. Until the quarterback is a threat, the math will always work against the offense. But spread coaches, without subjecting their quarterbacks to undue brutality, have learned to change the calculus.

(Via Rafe Colburn.)

This Just In

Roll Motherfucking Tide. First title shutout ever. Take a gander at those numbers, boys: 21 Tide first downs, vs 5 for the Tigers. 384 offensive yards for Alabama; LSU managed only 92. McCarron, in only his second year of eligibility, threw for 23 of 34 and 234 yards. LSU’s Jefferson was 11 of 17 and 53 yards.

As the man said, defense wins championships. And with a D like the Tide’s, it hardly matters that the finally tally was mostly field goals — especially if the other team can’t get across midfield.

This, of course, marks the sixth consecutive BCS National Title for the SEC. Alabama bags its second BCS title, third since I matriculated in ’88, and 14th overall. For those who loathe our conference, I will also note that this marks the very first time an SEC team has played for the BCS title and lost. That honor is, sadly, uniquely LSU’s.

Roll. Damn. Tide.

(In case you were wondering: The SEC have won 8 of 14 BCS games. The other 6 winners were:

  • FSU in ’99
  • Oklahoma in ’00
  • Miami in ’01
  • Ohio State in ’02
  • USC in ’04 (Vacated)
  • Texas in ’05

As should be obvious, none of these teams beat an SEC opponent.)

Dept. of Weird Feelings

As a native of South Mississippi and lifelong Saints fan, I still find it a distinctly odd (yet awesome) experience to see them in the playoffs at all.

It’s even weirder that they’re not a rag-tag underdog. It’s really, really weird that their playoff opponent today has an even sadder tale of football woe than the Saints I grew up with.

Playoff Chicanery: Heathen Edition

Largely because this is the first year I’ve actually paid enough attention to the NFL playoff system to understand it, I have picks. One game in, seven to go, and quite honestly I’m 0 for 1 — I was sure the Texans would lose. It’s nice to be surprised.

For the remaining games, here’s the Heathen picks:

AFC Wild Card Games

CIN (#6) @ HOU (#3): I’m shocked, but they won. Who knew?

PITT (#5) @ DEN (#4) (Sunday): Tebow gets stuffed. The Steelers should win, and that’s what we want to happen.

NFC Wild Card Games

DET (#6) @ NO (#3): Saints should win. Saints will win. Who dat? Not Detroit.

ATL (#5) @ NYG (#4): Giants. Giants. Giants.

Next week, the wild card winners get to play the top seeds in either conference, who get a first round bye because of their regular season performance. In the AFC, that’s the New England Patriots (#1) and Baltimore Ravens (#2). In the NFC, it’s the Green Bay Packers (#1) and San Francisco 49ers (#2).

The #1 team in either conference plays the lowest remaining seed, and the #2 plays the higher, so a number of games are possible. These are the Heathen Picks based on the picks above.

AFC Semifinals

HOU @ BAL: The luck stops here. I’d be NICE to win again, but I’d be VERY surprised. Ravens by 10.

PITT @ NE: Can’t they BOTH lose? Good CHRIST I hate both these teams. I’m hoping Pitt. I’m thinking NE gets it, though.

NFC Semifinals

NO @ SF: SAINTS, even on the road. WHO DAT.

NYG @ GB: PACK. Hard to hate on the Pack, really.

AFC Final

BAL @ NE. Baltimore by 5 is what I want. In reality it’s too close to call.

NFC Final

NO @ GB: SAINTS.

SuperBowl XLVI

Saints vs. Baltimore. SAINTS WIN! SAINTS WIN!

Two Must-Reads on the BCS

First, there’s Pat Forde‘s screed, which is spot on.

Then there’s this extraordinarily delicious BCS takedown from an LSU fan blog. The author would prefer OSU in the title game, but that’s not the axe he’s grinding — he concedes that reasonable people disagree there. After making that point, though, he points out just how fucking broken the entire thing is, how silly some of the ranking decisions are, and how the system discourages any adventurous regular-season scheduling. Example: Stanford is ranked above Oregon in the final tally despite Oregon beating them on the field largely because Oregon has two losses to Stanford’s one. But the Ducks’ first loss was to LSU, the unanimous #1.

Key point: both authors consider this year’s Sugar Bowl lineup to be an abomination before God. And they’re right.

Here We Go

The rematch is on. Check ESPN — it’s on TV, but not the site yet. Sucks to be the lost-to-Iowa State Cowpokes, but this is the right choice if you want the top 2 teams in the country to play for the title.

And here we go

BCS is out, and it is just as we predicted: LSU (1.000) and Alabama (0.9551) are comfortably at the top of the heap, followed by Okie State (0.8712). The Cowboys still have to play the Sooners, which will give them a chance at another statement win, but I’m still kinda looking for OU to win than one; they’re still #10 despite losses to Texas Tech and, hilariously, Baylor.

For their part, LSU still has to play Georgia in the SEC title game, but virtually no one thinks the Bulldogs will be as much of a threat as the Razorbacks were. LSU wins here, they’re in the game. Frankly, their lead is such that they could LOSE the SEC title game and still play for the title.

Alabama has no more games, so the Tide’s fate is in the hands of pollsters — but those pollsters have given them enough of a lead over OSU that even a commanding win over Oklahoma probably won’t be enough to push the Cowboys into the top two. Note that they only moved up this week because of LSU destroying Arkansas, the previous #3.

Bonus: There is a scenario where the SEC gets not only both title game slots but also the traditional Sugar Bowl slot. Sugar gets the SEC champ unless the conference winner is in the title game. If Georgia somehow beats LSU, they’ll go to the Sugar Bowl as the SEC champ — but LSU probably won’t drop below #2, behind (presumably) Alabama, and we’re right back where we started. Heh.

Finally, if all this DOES come to pass, it’ll be the SEC’s sixth straight BCS title, and seventh total:

  • 1998 Season: Tennessee over Florida State
  • 2003: LSU over Oklahoma
  • 2006: Florida over Ohio State
  • 2007: LSU over Ohio State
  • 2008: Florida over Oklahoma
  • 2009: Alabama over Texas
  • 2010: Auburn over Oregon

An LSU-Alabama title game will blow one SEC stat, though: heretofore, it’s been the only conference to never play in and lose the title game — every year it’s sent a contendor, it’s won. If you send both teams, well, them’s the breaks.

The sweet taste of BCS Bedlam

Since before they even played, there’s been talk of Alabama and LSU meeting in the title game for a rematch. Their contest was tight, at least by the numbers — no Alabama fan can be happy with the Tide’s performance and missed opportunities, but the final score of 9-6 in OT is a pretty shocking difference from the numbers either team racked up in the rest of their games.

BCS noticed, and didn’t punish Alabama much for the loss: they fell from #2 to #3, with Oklahoma State in the middle, and it stayed that way after last week. Oregon was at 4, and Oklahoma at 5.

Smart money said Bob Stoops and the Sooners would beat the Cowboys and push Alabama back to #2, but Christmas came early this week in the form of the unranked Iowa State Cyclones — who, even after their upset win, still have a losing record in the Big XII.

Previously 0-56-2 against teams in the top 6 of the AP, the Cyclones managed to push the game into double overtime before winning 37 to 31 in an unusual Friday night game.

But the weirdness wasn’t over yet, not by a long shot.

Earlier today, contender Oregon — who might’ve floated into #2 by a BCS unwilling to entertain an All-SEC title game — got bagged by USC. USC has no BCS rank, since they’re on probation, but AP ranks them at all of #18. In other words, it’s another pretty serious upset, and down go the Ducks because two-loss teams don’t play for championships. (Recall, of course, they lost to LSU in their opener.)

But the best is last: moments ago, #22 Baylor shocked the aforementioned Sooners with their second loss — the first ever win over Oklahoma for Baylor. They join Oregon in the two-loss-loser club, and the pool of legitimate title contenders gets that much smaller.

Who was behind Oklahoma, you ask? Why, the one-loss Arkansas team, naturally — who put a whipping on Mississippi State today, and will be rewarded for it.

Adding to the fun, Clemson collapsed vs. North Carolina State, to the tune of 37 to 13, which drops both Clemson and Virginia Tech, who lost to the Tigers back in October.

Just to lay it out more clearly, then, here’s the BCS going into this week, winners in bold and losers crossed out:

  1. LSU (undefeated)
  2. Oklahoma State (first loss)
  3. Alabama (only loss was to LSU)
  4. Oregon (second loss)
  5. Oklahoma (second loss)
  6. Arkansas (only loss was to Alabama)
  7. Clemson (second loss today)
  8. Virginia Tech (only loss was Clemson on 10/1)
  9. Stanford (still playing Cal, but likely to win)
  10. Boise State (only loss was to then-unranked TCU)

This strongly implies that tomorrow’s BCS standings will start with LSU first, Alabama second, and Arkansas third (followed, I guess, by Stanford, Va. Tech, Boise, and Houston, but it hardly matters at this point).

It’s hard to see any other scenario unless someone puts their thumb on the scale. All three teams have one regular game left: Alabama plays Auburn next week, and Arkansas and LSU play each other. If Alabama and LSU both win — which is the most likely scenario — LSU plays for the SEC title against Georgia or South Carolina, and will win in a walk, but #2 will still be Alabama.

There’s too big of a gap between these three and the rest of the pack to see an easy path to anything but an all-SEC title matchup, which will doubtless send lots of non-Southerners into complete apoplexy. However, this might get us one step closer to a proper playoff in D-1 college football. Finally.

Roll Tide.

The penultimate Astros post

Over the weekend, the Giants of Enron Field lost their 97th game of the year, thereby tying the all-time record for the club.

There are only 16 games left, and while they’ve improved slightly since the break (which is surprising), they’re still on a track to lose 11 of those games. 108 here we come!

Read it even if you loathe baseball

This account of the best at-bat ever is a complete delight.

If you’re not a fan, all you really need to know is that the guy holding the bat in this story — Casilla — went to the plate with no intention whatsoever of swinging, made no secret of it, and the other team still managed to walk him for no good reason. (The hows and whys of the situation are in the article, but you can just accept it as the Argument and still enjoy the writing.)

Casilla had pitched in the eighth inning of a close game because Casilla is a pitcher. Specifically, Casilla is a reliever. A decent reliever, but still a reliever, and a reliever who had never batted in the major leagues. It’s weird when relievers go up to hit. But what happened with Casilla turned out even weirder.

(Yes, a veteran relief pitcher like Casilla might never, ever bat. Mrs. Heathen can explain why.)

Casilla walked to the batter’s box under strict orders not to swing. Why would he swing? Nothing good could come of Santiago Casilla swinging, and if he took a bad swing, he could hurt himself. Casilla was batting not because [Giants manager] Bochy cared about the at bat, but because Bochy cared about keeping Casilla on the mound, and if Casilla were to watch three strikes and turn around, it wouldn’t matter. The at bat didn’t matter

Now, it’s one thing to bat with no intention of swinging. If the catcher and pitcher don’t know you have no intention of swinging, they’ll attack you like usual. But Casilla didn’t even try to hide his approach. […] For the Marlins, there was absolutely no mistaking what Casilla was going to do: he was going to stand there and not do anything. […]

Casilla, then, made himself the equivalent of a tall plant. Marlins reliever Jose Ceda was, for all intents and purposes, pitching to a tall plant in a major league baseball game. His only challenge was to throw three strikes to a plant that posed zero threat on account of its plantness.

Ceda should been able to connect with the middle-of-the-box catcher’s mitt 3 times in a completely casual manner, no muss or fuss, and retire Casilla. And yet three pitches in:

Think about this for a minute. Jose Ceda is a pitcher in the major leagues. It stands to reason, then, that Jose Ceda is one of the very best pitchers in the entire world. Sunday afternoon, he was tasked with throwing three strikes to a tall potted plant, and he fell behind 3-0.

There’s bad video.

(Via MeFi.)

Astros Failure Update

Over the weekend, the Giants of Enron Field crossed an important milestone. When we started this process, I noted that they could still theoretically reach a playoff-worthy record if they won all the rest of their games. Nobody thought that could happen, of course, but it was technically possible at the time.

Back then, too, it was of course even MORE possible that they might finish above .500 — but this weekend, those Mighty Astros dropped their 81st, 82nd, and 83rd games. Should they win out from here — in an unprecedented 41-game streak — they’ll still only be at .488.

Their current record is 38-83, or .314 — which represents a slide from the .330 they boasted when I first started this sequence of posts. Since then, they’ve lost 18 of 24, which is not QUITE as bad as the 28 of 35 they dropped before the break, but give them time. They start a three-game home stand against the Cubbies (.438) tonight, and then play three at home against defending champs San Francisco (.545) this weekend. They’ll play SF four more times before we get to September.

Frankly, a final record of under .300 is looking increasingly possible.

So much for that dream

The Astros blew their shot at the record last night with an unexpected (and dominant) win over the Diamondbacks, improving to 38-77 and .330, mostly on the strength of Wandy’s pitching. Expect him to be snatched up post haste.

The record in question is, of course, “Worst Major League Season of the Modern Era,” and was set by the Athletics in 1916, who finished at .235. If the Astros win no other games, they’ll tie it, but a tie, Bear tells us, is like kissing your sister. True glory has escaped them.

A few stats for fun:

  • As stated, a 0-47 record going forward leaves them at .235. Close, but no cigar.
  • They’re currently at .330; if they hold that, they’ll finish at 54-108. That’s enough for one record: Worst Astros Season Ever. But there was never really any doubt on that one.
  • Of course, it’s possible they could evade the 100 loss mark — but they have to go 25-22 to finish out the year to do it.
  • Improbable though it may seem, they could still finish over .500 if they win all the rest of their games. Ha!

The second option is by far the most likely; that’s where they’ve been all year. Their record at my first post was .330, and they’ve split the games since in more or less exactly that proportion.

Astros Failure Update

With an unexpected W last night, the Astros teeter on the edge; their only possible chance for greatness this season is about to slip away.

Let me explain: The ’16 Athletics went 36-117, for .235. With modern schedule lengths, the Astros need to lose 125 games to beat this mark (for a season-ending .228), but it becomes impossible if they win 38 games.

Last night puts the Giants of Enron Field at 37-74, or .333. To “beat” the 1916 record, they can win no more games. I believe in Astro Collapse, but this may be beyond them. Sure, this team will notch between 105 and 110 losses, but that’s only exceptional because the Astros have never been that bad before. I was hoping for true brilliance.

Frankly, this is all due to a mild improvement since the pre-break skid; they’ve gone .357 since my first post, though I’m sure that will change. It is, after all, the Astros we’re talking about here.

Oh, it’s gonna get worse

Well, sports fans, we get to watch them fail MORE now. The Astros traded their two best players since last we spoke — for good reasons, I’m told — and as a result are already on a pace to be a game worse than they were when I first weighed in. Current projected finish, assuming they keep the pace they’ve established so far (.324), solidifies the 110 loss prediction I mentioned earlier.

Frankly, after losing Pence and the other dude, it seems to me that even 110 is wishful thinking. Give up on hoping for 99 or fewer; worry about 115 or 120.

A 3-night home stand with 2-games-under-.500 Cincy starts tonight, and then they host the Brewers (who just swept them in Milwaukee) on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. I’m betting that, come Monday, the Giants of Enron Field have notched only one “W” before their road trip to Arizona (.546) and LA (.449).

Astros Suckery Update

Halfway through a 4-game stand in St. Louis, YOUR Houston Astros have notched their fifth loss in a row, which takes them to 33-70, or about .320.

Not that anyone was counting on it, but winning every remaining game now results in a lower percentage record than any 2010 playoff team.

A more likely event is that they continue to perform as they have up to now, so projecting their current .320 record out through the end of the season puts them at 52-110. Only a drastic improvement over the remaining 59 games will get them over .400.

Finally, avoiding the all-important 100 loss mark now requires winning more than half of the remaining games, which just isn’t happening; smart money says they drop 4 more games before the end of the month, and they play 2010 champions San Francisco seven times in August.

YOUR Houston Astros!

We attended an Astros game last night, where they managed to disappoint us even though we expected them to lose — instead, they managed to beat the Washington Nationals, a team we actually like.

The game leaves Houston at 32-65, or .330. That’s the worst record in baseball, a slot the Astros have made their own for months now. I wondered last night at what point they’d become mathematically irrelevant, so I did some very basic figurin’.

There are 162 games in a baseball season. If the Astros go on an unprecedented run and win all 65 remaining games, they finish at 97-65, or .599. That’s a respectable figure — league leaders Philly and Boston are above that now, and several others are close to it (the Yankees, the Giants, the Braves, and even the hot-streaking Rangers). The only one of those that matters for this purpose (i.e., National League playoffs) is Philly; .599 is better than everyone else in the National League, so I feel safe saying this bizarre development would be good enough to clinch the NL Central title, or at least the NL Wildcard slot.

Looking a little more carefully at last year’s playoff teams, we see an average 2010 regular season record of .576. For the Astros to finish above that (.580 is the closest possible record), they have to win 94 games, or 62 of the remaining 65 — a finishing run in excess of 95%, or only marginally less absurd than the perfect run required to reach .599.

So, while it is still technically too early to count the Astros out on the strength of arithmetic alone, it does seem damned improbable. And in the next two weeks, they play the Nats again (once), the Cubbies (3 times), the Cards (4 times), and the Brewers (3 times), so odds are they’ll drop those “critical” three games between now and the end of July, rendering even pipe-dream best-possible records unworthy of the postseason.

All that’s just math, though: smart folks like us realize that the AA sad-sacks of Enron field are not going to shift from .330 ball to .950 ball. Let’s look at some other scenarios, ranging from “still absurd” to “depressingly likely.”

What if they win “only” 3/4 of their remaining 65 games? That herculean feat will buy them a reasonable finishing record of .500, which will presumably rescue the 2011 Astros from generations of ridicule. However, even a 75% run through September only gets them as close to the playoffs as, well, the AAA-league Louisville Bats. To be fair, we must admit that a .750 run to finish the season is only slightly more likely than a playoff-worthy .950.

Closer to the realm of possibility is splitting the remaining games. I said “closer,” but not really possible — but if it DID happen, a 33-32 run would let the Astros finish at .400. For most of the year the Astros have been alone in the sub-40% club, Cubbies notwithstanding, so climbing one rung of the ladder would still be nice — even though my guess is that .400 would leave them in the league basement for the year.

Now we’re out of the impossible and improbable, though. What if they continue on their .330 path? That seems positively reasonable! They’d finish at 53 and 109. Astonishingly for a team as meager and feeble as the Astros have always seemed to be, they’ve never before lost 100 games in a year — and in fact haven’t lost more than 90 in 20 years.

I think we’re safe in kissing that record and streak goodbye; to avoid 100 losses, they’ve got to bag 63 wins, or 31 of the remaining 65. A 31-34 season-ending run would be only slightly less miraculous than the .500 split, and even that moral victory still leaves them at .389 on the year.

Frankly, 109 losses might be good news, if their pre-break performance is any indication. Of their 35 games before the All Star game, the Astros lost a staggering 28. If they continue that performance, we can look forward to something like 45 and 117, or a .278 final percentage. Ouch!

To put this in more global perspective, it’s been 7 years since a team lost 109 or more games (the 2004 Arizona Diamondbacks went 51-111, or .315), and in the last 40 years it’s only happened three times (the ’03 tigers went 43-119, and who doesn’t love the ’62 Mets at 40-120?).

With those final figures in hand, I realize one final note: The Astros can’t even be exceptionally bad. 109 or 117 losses definitely sucks, but if you’re going to go that far down, have the strength of character to own it. Be the worst team you can be!

The Astros can own the modern era loser record if they manage to win no more than five additional games, finishing at .228 or 37-125. The mark was set by the Philadelphia (now Oakland) Athletics, who went .235 (36-117) back in 1916. Sadly, I suspect our hometown team will blow this opportunity as well.