Now I’m nervous.
Yesterday I was excited about meaningful baseball… today I’m nervous that I’m going to be sitting in a puddle of shame like a jilted lover, on or around September 28, as the Phils bow gracefully out of the Wild Card race. Like Christina Aguilera and her aging breasts, my body’s saying let’s go… but my heart is saying no.
Yeah, I feel like this. Don’t judge:
The Cardinals lost last night and reader Ryan’s Wild Card tracker tells me that the Phillies would need to go 14-6 if the Cardinals finish 10-10:
I’ll breakdown the risks of getting back on board later today.
Last night Jimmy Rollins made Marlins catcher Rob Brantly pay for dropping a foul popup. J-Roll™ crushed the next pitch, as his swing oh so suddenly looks like that beautiful 2007 slide-step version.
Sarge was on his game with his analysis of J-Roll’s™ home run, but I had a disturbing realization: if the Phillies complete this comeback, Tom McCarthy is going to be the one to narrate it. I don’t think he has the words to do it. Literally. I don’t think he has the vocabulary to fully describe what would be a silly comeback… and that makes me sad. Kind of like how Tim felt when T-Mac tried to game-show-host his way through a 9/11 discussion:
Finally, congrats to Jordan (and his patient girlfriend) for their (?) win in our NHL 12 tournament at Drinker’s West:
Morning Wood returns when the lead is cut to three.