It was painfully early in the game, and Kyle Kendrick had already given up a triple; the unicorn of base hits. Ian Desmond stood proudly on third, and in a misguided attempt at revenge, Kyle hit Ryan Zimmerman with a pitch; only his pitches were so light and threatless nobody even considered that he had done it out of hostility, not even him.
There now stood two Nationals on base, one at either corner, and Kyle found himself in a familiar place: enraging the people of Philadelphia.
With one run already in the whereabouts of Vance Worley were being drunkenly demanded, and it seemed as though the incoming Kendricking the Phillies were about to receive would be more painful, costly, and imminent than ever before.
Phillies 5, Nationals 2
And then, for some reason, it wasn’t.
Today, the Phillies showcased exactly how unstoppable they appear to be. Nothing is going to halt this run; not Kyle Kendrick, not the bullpen, not even lasers, which caused a mid-game delay that had both the announcers and producers in a tizzy over just what in the hell was going on down there. Though we did get to enjoy 10+ seconds straight of Jim Riggleman on the steps of the Nationals dugout.
“Sorry about the weird delay here, people. Please enjoy this complimentary footage of Jim Riggleman standing there.”
See what happens when there isn’t an impromptu tit-grabbing to cut to in Citizens Bank Park?
The Phils straight up refused to be losing and scored via Ryan Howard, Jayson Werth, and Raul Ibanez home runs, and then also some other scoring that wasn’t as exciting. The real story was that Kyle Kendrick, the weak link in the chain that is not only very well put together, but also used to beat people to death, held on for the win. Six hits, two runs, and three K’s over six innings.
Being reminded that Kyle Kendrick can win a baseball game, and by pitching in it, not breaking the knee cap of the other team’s best player the night before, was a boost of confidence in one of our weak spots. Not even sure how to react at first, (“BOOOOO YOU WILL BURN IN HELL FOR THIS DAY KYLE KENDRI wait what”) I wandered aimlessly through the streets, assuming a zombie apocalypse scenario had to be near.
It never came, and my makeshift survival kit I assembled with all the sharp things I could find in the hardware store will probably–hopefully–go to waste.
Up the turnpike, the Braves would not be denied by the Mets, and the lead stands at three. Clearly fighting for Bobby Cox and his last year with baseball, it suddenly occurred to some journalist that Charlie Manuel is 66 years old; nowhere close to Cox’s 127 years, but still within the realm of hanging up his cleats.
“I don’t go nowhere. I go home and I come to the ballpark. I go home and I come to the ballpark. I go home, come to the ballpark, airplane, go on the airplane, go to the hotel. That’s all I do. Sometimes I’ll walk to the ballpark. That’s all I do. I don’t go to bars. I don’t go nowhere. If I was younger I’d go to the bars. What do you want me to say? I think I’ve seen about all there is to see.”