5 things to know this week: Cranky Mr. Jones, Thor teaser, Matz, and Pujols bliss

Let's go on a sprint, shall we?

I should have told my wife to just wait a minute.

Albert Pujols was coming to the plate with two runners on and some scoreboard ground to recover, but I opted to get to the car to listen. Pujols didn’t care for those plans, blasting a majestic, 426-foot bomb to the upper deck in Milwaukee’s American Family Field. A 3-0 deficit became a tie game, and I only could smile when I reached the vehicle.

After all, this was the second Pujols home run I had missed in a week. His shot against the Royals on Tuesday happened while my dad and I enjoyed “Ambulance” at Galleria 6 Cinemas. When you can finally lure your dad to the movie theater-not his man cave with safe distance-you abandon the Cards game. Memories can’t be revisited later in a highlight reel.

But copious replays of the homer never tires the eyes. The pitcher hung a breaking ball and Pujols tattooed it into the seats. Crash Davis would have smiled at it, and awarded the man a free steak for knocking the bullshit out of his naysayers.

Yes, there are still critics of the signing who continually whine every time the man doesn’t hit one over 400 feet. Some make wise notes about the disparity in his usage, but others just want to complain. The man collectively made St. Louis light a cigarette during a chilly Easter Sunday afternoon. Stop overanalyzing a nostalgia signing that’s turning out to be very team friendly.

Sunday evening, an unpleasant yet not-so-surprising sight arrived on Twitter. I saw a tweet from Graham, a longtime follow that I have sparred with (mostly playful) for years. It was a screenshot of a tweet with my name in part of it.

Right away, I knew what was happening and only needed to find out which tweet of mine he was referencing. What caused this former front page columnist for the rugged St. Louis Game Time newspaper (once sold outside Blues home games) to take time out of his hard-charging journalistic sorrow to tweet about me. My name capitalized, followed by “the stupidest man in St. Louis.”

This wasn’t the first time Jones had used me and a variation of dumb in a sentence. After I went on a Starbucks rant during an Uber shift (driving humans around makes you a rage monster at times), Jones compared me to nincompoop.

Here’s the thing about this whole debacle. We used to be friends, at least extended or connected through our writings at Game Time. We shared laughs and a few beers on a few occasions.

Sometimes, I look for the good in people far past their worth expiration date. Somewhere along the line, he started disliking me deeply and I will never know what exactly made the turn. But it happened right as he went from Game Time traveling reporter to front page columnist and rookie beat writer for the Cardinals. Ego shots are well known. I could be wrong, but connect the dots. Maybe it was the god awful Ryan O’Reilly trade rumor I bit down hard on and tweeted out.

It’s one thing to dislike someone. You stop reading their stuff. Burn the book. Block the person (he did two years ago after declaring me Captain Nincompoop). Ignore their words if they somehow come into your orbit. Ignore. Be the better man, in your eyes even. The world is too wide and full to like everyone anyway. I don’t take it personally.

But the decision to, while you have me blocked, proceed to use “stupidest” is another level or three below dislike. It’s hatred, and for what? A proud feeling in your chest that you are far above me. That has to be it, right? And how, exactly? By being a beat reporter. We’re all just writing here, correct?

He writes for the Belleville News Democrat. Nice paper and website. My friend, Lynn Venhaus, writes for them too. But what’s so extra special about that? Another batch of words at another site. Same as KSDK, my newsletter, or another paper website.

The truth is I could ask KSDK to credential me and they probably would, but Tegna wouldn’t pay me a solidary cent to do it. So yeah, I’ll tell my wife that I am going to spend all those hours at the ballpark, asking questions that will pull boring, forgettable answers 80% of the time, and I’m going to do this for free. HA!

All the while, we have a stack of bills to pay and this will yield nothing but sweat, exhaustion, and the need to start boxing and drinking more alcohol. No thanks. I’ll watch from afar, like many excellent bloggers do, and dish my takes with a gram of Kosher Kush waiting nearby. I truly hope the very well paid players, managers, and coaches can handle my scalding hot takes.

Here’s three true things about me and Jones before I leave this in the past:

1.) Can you believe once upon a time I paid for his lunch? During a Winter Warm-Up media gathering a few years back, then MLB.com reporter Jenifer Langosch’s lovely husband brought pizzas to the writer’s den. Everyone pitched in. I had extra, and took care of Jones when he came up short. That’s what good eggs do, the #1 thing I aspire to be each fucking day I wake up on this planet. I did it without thinking.

2.) Once upon a time, I took Jones to a Cards game in very good seats. Section 157, right side of the aisle. We had a good time, and the Cards won. He seemed to be a good dude, but I’ve heard similar takes from many others.

3.) When I finally decided to end my early morning radio show at 590 The Fan (I was way in over my head), I handed the keys to Brad Mudd (who ran Game Time for its final home stretch) and Jones for their hockey show. I co-hosted a couple shows with Jones, and we talked about puck and film. I figured I was doing a good thing by giving them a chance.

Call it coloring in the background or whatever. I have no real explanation for Jones’ reasoning in calling me out frequently, while having me blocked. I guess some people howl at the moon in their own way. To each his own, Jones.

You know who fared better over the weekend? Steven Matz.

The start after suffering a blister on his hand and getting blasted by the Pirates, Matz twisted the Brewers into submission to even the record. He protected a lead, delivered valuable innings, and demonstrated the upside of his potential. All he has to do is be a suitable 4th starter: [provide 5-6 innings with minimum damage and a fluky 7-8 inning performance here and there. Good performance for good pay.

There will be plenty of big performances in this summer’s "Thor: Love and Thunder.” Taika Waititi’s follow-up to his smashing MCU debut, “Ragnarok.” SPOILER zone initiated, but Thor gave up his Leader of Asgard label in “Endgame” and is now hanging out with the Guardians of the Galaxy. The God of Thunder suddenly laments fighting, and wishes to bury his hammer axe and call it a hero day.

But, he’s lured back into the Immigrant Song of danger soon enough, where he meets Natalie Portman’s new and improved, and quite thunderous, Jane. Ex-girlfriend with the big brain stealing your mighty hammer. She found two tickets to the guns show while training for this movie.

Chris Hemsworth’s Point Break has it rough. Just let the guy use his sense of humor and the sequel will be good. The trailer showcased that, especially with Chris Pratt’s Peter Quill, so it gets a thumbs up from me. It’s a teaser trailer after all. Be patient. July 8th release date, so expect a full trailer after the Doctor Strange 2 credits.

Time to go now. “Better Call Saul” came back tonight with two fresh episodes, and I’m not waiting until morning to hear all the takes/reviews/Kim theories. You get ahead of the storm, or that’s what Mike would say.

Thanks for reading. Be kind or don’t be a dick. The choice is yours. Pick one.