For Reds, Hope Has 2 Faces

Watch them for no other reason than. . .

Reason to believe 1

If youse are looking for a reason to watch the Club this summer — and you are, aren’t you? — you could do worse than tune in twice every five days, when Nick Lodolo and Hunter Greene are working. In three-plus decades of watching the Reds strive for something better, I haven’t seen many story lines more interesting than Hunter-n-Nick. Certainly none more important to the future of the franchise.

See Greene, 23, a mustang on the prairie, seemingly untame-able but, my goodness, so worth the effort to tame. With Greene, the spectacular comes with a bit of danger. Watching Greene work is like watching a bullfighter. Or a rookie eating fire. For Greene, roping thunderclouds can sometimes be easier than throwing strikes when he positively needs them. The world watches, because the world sees glimpses of greatness and wants to be there when the mustang is reined in.

See Lodolo, 25, pretzel the Phillies with curveballs, then freeze them with heat. This isn’t a great Philly lineup, not with Harper and Hoskins missing, but it’s still relevant. See JT Realmuto twist himself into the sod while chasing a breaking ball. See fastball hitter deluxe Kyle Schwarber swing late on fastballs. If you’re a Reds fan, that makes you dream.

The hope is, Greene experiences a similar evolution as Lodolo. You can see it now, in spurts. The fastball can be unhittable, but without a credible 2nd-pitch (slider), it can be vulnerable. And for a guy who last week threw 17 fastballs at 100-plus mph, it’s telling that Greene had a couple 30-pitch innings. Once he can put pitches where he wants them, he won’t need 30-plus pitches to put away an inning.

Greene has made 26 starts and thrown 133 innings in his big-league career. Lodolo is at 21 and 115. Greene has had the far bumpier road. What he needs most is innings. That’s what this year is for, to begin learning the difference between throwing and pitching. You could say the same about Lodolo.

It’s going to be fascinating, watching hope bloom.

Reason to believe 2

If the Reds can develop cost-contained starting pitching for a few years, they have a chance to be credible. They can build around Lodolo, Greene and Graham Ashcraft.

None of this does their W total much good this year, I know. But at least with this latest rebuild, there is something worth watching. I don’t know how we survived 2015-18 — aka The Tim Adleman Era — when the Club was losing 98, 94, 94 and 95 times. I didn’t remember that Homer Bailey went 1-14 with an ERA over six in 2018.

Those were hide-your-eyes summers. Baseball was fun about 0 percent of the time.

Now, that number is up to 40 or 60. We take progress where we can find it.

Now, then. . .

AS FOR THE MASTERS. . .

There are times, lots of times, when a heathen scribe understands the loathing.

For me, that is. For us. For anyone who commits acts of (alleged) journalism in the name of The People’s Right to Know. OGs might recall Gary Burbank. Comedian, raconteur, afternoon host on ‘LW. Gary often said, “your right to know supersedes your right to exist.’’

Yeah. Maybe.

It wasn’t a great Masters. Weather messed with the flow of the weekend. Sunday seemed rushed, especially for golf. But it was an eventful toonamint. Tree falling, legend limping, time-tunneling Phil. And Rory, poor Rory, living more deeply in his Masters head than Greg Norman ever did.

What didn’t occur was a blood feud between LIV and the PGA. Witness Brooks Koepka and Jon Rahm, chatting it up all afternoon Sunday, like guys who, well, hadn’t seen much of each other lately.

As much as we tried to make this Masters about Hatfields and McCoys in white belts and corporate logos, it was what it always is: A compelling reason to spend a few hours watching the greatest players on the greatest golf course in the world.

I care about the feud only to the extent that it limits golf’s appeal on non-majors weeks. The PGA without Koepka, Reed, Dustin, Phil etc. is not as watchable. And the sight of mercenaries leaving to become bigger mercenaries does make me wanna lie down in a cool place.

But the golf is all that matters. How much (more) cash Dustin Johnson makes doesn’t affect me at all.

As for the tournament. . .

All you anarchists out there can take delight in knowing not even the Lords of Augusta can master the weather. And who gave those three loblollies permission to fall down?

I don’t ever recall seeing water in puddles on the greens. The underground water control system couldn’t keep up with Saturday’s wet, and that’s saying something. For years at the toonamint, I wondered about the hum I’d hear occasionally, from below my feet.

Was it Masters elves, making pimiento cheese sandwiches in an underground factory? Patrons, gulag-ed for all eternity for bringing cell phones onto the property? Then I figured it out. It was the SubAir system, this massive network of pipes and blowers and sucking machines (no, not you, Rory) that pulled moisture from the surface to the netherworld below.

SubAir lost Saturday for possibly the first time ever.

But don’t fear for the flora at Augusta National. If the Lords decide to replace the three blown-over trees, they’ll just pay to have three others of the same size removed from someplace else, shipped by a flat-bed semi to the club and planted.

They did this to a greater extent many years ago, as part of “Tiger-proofing’’ the course. One year, the right of the 11th fairway was a sloped hillside that allowed players to bounce tee shots off the slope and slingshot them down the hill.

The Lords fixed that luxury by insta-planting a grove of 75-foot pines on the slope. It was as if they’d been there forever.

MIXON. The Bengals will keep him until they replace him, which will be sooner than later. Paul Brown, aka The Great Man, liked to say “everyone is useful, but no one is necessary.’’ PB never met Joe Burrow.

Regardless, Mixon’s not necessary. His running production nose-dived last year, he’s been in the league six years, taking six years worth of hits, and he isn’t a good blocker, The fact that he has been “re-charged’’ on a misdemeanor plays into it. But not much.

A team that drafted a guy who punched a woman is not going to flinch when that guy gets accused of pointing a gun at a woman. Can he still play? Is he worth the $12 mil he’s owed for next season?

(1) Maybe and (2) definitely not. Thanks for what you’ve done. Good luck to ya. And keep the guns locked up.

FEED YOUR LAWN, and while you’re at it, feed every freaking Scott’s ad to the Dumpster. I don’t watch the Reds. I listen. And I can tell you the Scott’s ads must run 50 times a game, easily. I mean, Jesus. The next time I need grass seed or weedkiller or whatever, you can be sure I’ll buy anything but Scott’s. Feed that.

Nobody cares, Doc.

I know, My blog, though.

A GREAT THING about this gig is the tangents we slip into on occasion. A good one happened last week. Kathy and Wayne started talking about Kentucky back roads. Frequent Perusers know I’m a huge fan of what used to be called Sunday drives. Give me an open back road to anywhere and I’m gone.

Which prompts a question, Mobsters. We’re pondering an overnight roadie. We have three choices. You tell me which is best for two (somewhat) old folks who like to wander and walk, who enjoy little towns, quaint shops, local food and beautiful surroundings. Would you recommend. . .

(1) Red River Gorge and environs.

(2) Pine Mountain Road, Whitesburg, Pikeville etc. The whole Eastern K-Y thing

(3) West Virginia.

TUNE O’ THE DAY. . . Darryl’s House is a mandatory stop on the TML road. This is just lovely. Smile, Sara, whoever you are.