Yankees 8, Phillies 3
What? Of course it’s time to panic. I’ve been sitting here for 15 minutes whispering “It’s not okay, it’s not okay” and stroking last night’s box score on my monitor. I really can’t think of a better time to panic than being about to stumble below .500 with two games left to play in New York against a Yankees team that is bent on proving they are better, better, better.
The theory flying around PhilsVille is that this team will come around. Coaches and players alike have claimed it is just a matter of scattered hits, of putting the ball where they’re not, and this offense will begin the slow trudge up the steep hole they have spent the last month digging. Cornered like a stray cat in the middle of a garbage raid, Ruben Amaro opened up about his feelings on the anti-Phils, and… said the exact same thing.
I remember this theory. Night after night in 2009, Brad Lidge would come “Lights Out”-ing his way out of the bullpen, then leave the field 20 minutes later will all of the lights significantly still on, and also the car running with the garage door closed.
We wanted his head. We wanted his arm. We wanted something to prove that change was on its way. Because while he turned every game he pitched in in 2008 into an eight inning affair, whatever was working then wasn’t working now. Even after a relevant number of chances to get his confidence up, to get his slider sliding, it never came back.
And Charlie told us, night after night, “Brad Lidge is our closer.”
Now, our problems range far beyond the back end of the bullpen. The rampant toxicity flowing through the locker room has infected every player–the starting rotation seems to have some life–and now, here we stand, after a month of standing still while the water rises, on the verge of drowning below the .500 mark.
No changes are scheduled. The Phillies don’t like to spend money, and I’d love to hope along with the staff that merely waiting out this bullshit will be an effective strategy. Maybe it will. I’d love it if it was. Doesn’t feel like it though. And even if a few more weeks go by and suddenly the balls getting slapped around again, that’s still a pretty noticeable challenge to overcome with half the season already gone.
I think we could come up with a better plan than “nothing.” Which I guess could be countered by Charlie’s moving of Chase to second in the order and Polanco to third (Chase went 2-for-4 with a run).
So, last night!
First, my high hopes and I sat down on the couch and watched Doc give up two runs in the second inning. Then I challenged Roommate to a drinking contest, which he forfeit halfway through because he as “self respect” or whatever science term he threw at me.
Then the Phillies’ offense did some involuntary twitching and scored three times.
So, I responded by refusing to sit down for the next few innings, at which point the Yankees, starring that hella-cool right fielder Nick Swisher, burned Roy Halladay to the ground. Then it was time to go head down and power through the rest of the disaster, taking time outs to watch the NBA Finals (OMFG THERE’S GOING TO BE AN EXPLOSIVE CROSSBOW IN CALL OF DUTY: BLACK OPS OMFGOMFGOMFG) and hurl hilarious insults at the Celtics’ bench.
And finally, we close with the majestic words of a true Yankees fan:
June 15, 2010 at 1:39 pm
How do you get to 10K losses???
BY SUCKING ASS FOR MANY MANY YEARS!!
27 TITLES!!!!!! WHOOOOOOOOO!!!!