Standing at a wedding reception last night, the Phillies game sparkled off the television above the open bar, becoming the focus of anyone’s attention waiting patiently for re-fueling.
“We’re winning,” it was said. “We’re doing well.”
The final score indicated otherwise.
Today, I managed to punch the remote out of my roommate’s hands and flip over from whatever AFC teams were barfing all over each other to check the Phils’ score.
6-1, it said. 6-1, Phillies.
Not long after, I performed a sneak attack and managed to check the score again (All of this with the internet like six steps away).
6-5, it said. 6-5, Phillies.
Denial is an ugly thing. And nothing is uglier than being one of those teams that doesn’t have a chance, or if they do, they don’t deserve it. I’m looking at you, NL Wild Card race. “Whoever gets hot last” is an exciting way to finish, but it pales in comparison to a team that has been performing admirably all season.
We are not that team.
Every other day I am writing “Dude, we suck,” or “The storm has passed,” and I, just like you, am sick of it.
The pistons won’t fire at the same time. When the pitching’s good, the hitting’s invisible. When the hitting is solid (Like, say, a leadoff HR), Joe Blanton only gets through 5 2/3.
And that makes us an old car, drifting down a hill, coughing, sputtering, the laughingstock of the neighborhood, as Charlie Manuel stands behind it, pushing as hard as he can, and anyone you could call a closer keeps poking holes in the tires.
Meanwhile, down the street, the pristine, dazzling new Cardinals convertible is on display in the St. Louis driveway. Albert Pujols polishes it and waves as we sail by, hoping for a generous breeze to take us up the next incline.
Not that I feel left out, but why am I seeing ads for ESPN Dallas, a town without four major sports franchises? And why were the four images two college QBs, Tony Romo, and Jerry Jones?