PHOENIX -- Predicting that Randy Johnson is going to get shelled is like forecasting a snowstorm for the Arizona desert: open your mouth to such stupid suggestions and you look like an idiot. Even if you are right, somebody is likely to tie you up in a straight jacket and haul you away. It just doesn't happen.

So on Tuesday night, when the St. Louis Cardinals smashed, smacked and slapped the Big Unit all over the barren Arizona desert, handing him the worst postseason defeat of his career, you can imagine the shock in, out and around the Diamondbacks' clubhouse.

	“	He made some mistakes, there's no question he didn't do what he set out to do. But (the Cardinals) didn't miss his mistakes, either. They took the stuff he left over the plate and didn't hit it for singles and doubles, but (rather) triples and homers. And with Randy, you just don't see that. ”
		— Chad Moeller, Arizona catcher, on Randy Johnson

After all, this is what the Diamondbacks are built around. This is what their fans are pinning their World Series hopes on. Without Luis Gonzalez, Craig Counsell and Danny Bautista, everything comes down to the left arm of Johnson and the right arm of Arizona's Game 2 starter, Curt Schilling.

And when one of the Dynamic Duo takes a turn for the worse, things aren't so bright in the Valley of the Sun.

"It's something you don't see too often," said Arizona catcher Chad Moeller, who had the birds-eye view of Johnson's troubles. "I was certainly pretty surprised."

So too was Johnson. A day earlier, he rubbed his crystal ball, peered into the future and predicted a low-scoring game, similar to last year's series-opening 1-0 Diamondbacks victory, a game in which Schilling hurled a complete-game shutout.

He talked about the little things, like moving runners along and avoiding costly errors, as the keys to victories for both teams. But Jim Edmonds, Scott Rolen and the rest of the Cardinals had other things on their minds. Like triples. Home runs. And a 1-0 lead in this best-of-five series.

In the first inning, Edmonds hit a two-run homer, becoming just the sixth left-handed batter to do so against Johnson in three years. In the fourth, Rolen's 427-foot two-run rocket landed somewhere in Sedona, breaking a 2-2 tie. Albert Pujols added a triple. Mike Matheny had a double. Every Cardinal regular except Eli Marrero and Tino Martinez had a hit off of Johnson.

And even when they didn't get hits, St. Louis' outs were often balls which were drilled right at an Arizona defender. When Johnson finally left the game in the sixth, his line was an ugly one:

6 IP, 10 H, 6 R, 5 ER, 2 BB, 4 K.

It was the most hits he had ever given up in a postseason game.

"When Randy gives up six runs, he obviously doesn't have his stuff out there -- believe me," D-Backs first baseman Mark Grace said. "This just reminds us that he's human. A damn good pitching human."

Even Johnson's seven-run, eight-inning implosion against the Mets in the 1999 Division Series couldn't outdo this gem.

"I feel very, very bad that I put the team in a hole right from the get-go," Johnson said. "I think it goes without saying that I didn't pitch as well as I should have or could have. I just didn't make quality pitches."

For one, Johnson didn't have his usual blinding velocity. Instead, the fiery fastball that usually hovers around 97-99 miles per hour was cruising in at 94 and 95. In addition, his slider lacked its traditional bite.

That was the pitch that Rolen rocketed to center in the fourth.

"There's no question that he left some of his pitches out over the plate and luckily, our guys were able to take advantage," Rolen said.

Arizona manager Bob Brenly thought the problem was mechanics.

"He was rushing a bit," Brenly said. "And when he does that, his velocity drops down. His slider is not as sharp."

On Monday, Johnson said that he thought the Cardinals had the best lineup of any team in the postseason. By rushing his delivery, he helped them look that way.

How rare was it? In his last five starts, Johnson surrendered a total of five runs. The Cardinals had five runs Tuesday by the fifth inning.

He was the National League pitcher of the month in September, going 5-0 with a 0.66 ERA. In three of those starts he threw a complete game, giving up just three earned runs in 41 innings.

He was just as tough last postseason, going 5-1 with a 1.53 ERA, while striking out 47 batters in 41 innings. Yet the Cardinals made him look more like Jason Johnson than Randy Johnson.

"When you don't hit your spots and then you go up against a team like that, something's got to give," Johnson said. "I don't care who you are."

Moeller said that he spent much of the game crouched behind home plate shocked at what was happening before him. He noticed the lack of velocity. Noticed the flat slider. And realized the Cardinals were swinging hot sticks.

"He made some mistakes, there's no question he didn't do what he set out to do," Moeller said. "But they didn't miss his mistakes, either. They took the stuff he left over the plate and didn't hit it for singles and doubles, but (rather) triples and homers. And with Randy, you just don't see that."

Cardinal batters said their approach was simple: Match aggression with aggression. If Randy wanted to challenge them, they would challenge Randy right back. Most importantly, don't swing at any stupid pitches.

"That was it," Rolen said. "I mean, you just don't want to give him free strikes. You don't want to help him out. You want to make him pitch."

And now the pressure shifts to Arizona's other ace, Schilling. On the cover of Arizona's 2002 postseason media guide, pictures of both pitchers are featured, along with the headline, "Armed and Ready to Defend."

If there is any defense of the 2001 World Series champion, though, Johnson will have to bounce back. And Grace is 100-percent confident that a little anger will do just the trick.

"I just hope it pisses him off. I hope it really pisses him off," Grace said. "Because when he's angry out there, he can't be touched. And we'll need that in Game 4."

Wayne Drehs is a staff writer for ESPN.com.