True Phillies fandom refuses to allow itself to be rained upon, except if it is actual rain, in which case, Phillies fandom runs inside and hides like a little bitch.
Today, more than ever, we need our red-hot slice of Philadelphia Phillie fan-pie. So open wide.
Holy shit, that was the end of the regular season?! I hurled my laptop off the back deck when Gamecast wouldn’t load today’s Phillies game. So now we’re left with spiraling, red-clad questions.
I recently was told a story about chiggers. Upon your arrival in one of their habitats, they will immediately swarm your flesh, crawl inside it, and make a home on places of you where clothing constricts your flesh in any way. It’s slightly more comfortable than watching playoff baseball.
There’s a lot of time spent writhing in agony, but that’s just fine. Take solace in things like “Carlos Ruiz has only once batted below .300 in a playoff series.”
“An informal poll conducted this weekend in Atlanta revealed Ruiz is perhaps the most well-liked player in the clubhouse.”
I love how it’s classified as an “informal poll” because that way it sounds like an official, journalistic task, when it’s pretty obvious somebody did a lap around the locker room with a steno pad.
Of COURSE Chooch is the most popular guy in the Phillies clubhouse. Have you ever seen that smile? That childlike glee when one of his pitchers does something historic? Those many, many instances in which the bases are pulsating with potential runs and Chooch just hammers the point home with a double off the wall?
It’s been a while since high school, but if “being awesome” and “being unfathomably great at sports” are still the qualifications of the cool cliche, then Chooch is clearly a welcome member, and I am very obviously still not invited to this week’s hot social event. I can only assume it is an illegal street race garnished by sexy ladies who don’t ever really stop dancing for some reason, even though no one ever asked them to start.
So, whatever. I don’t even really want to go. This $35 used PlayStation isn’t going to play itself.
On another day indicative of extremely pissed-off gods, the Phillies were forced to hang out while rain sogged up the city and continue awaiting the prolonged arrival of Wednesday, when the playoffs begin anew. Charlie Manuel hung out in his office, as he is likely to do on most off days and major holidays, spitting in a bucket and hating all those who desire to stand in his way.
“I curse a lot.”
Atta boy Chuck.
Meanwhile, wherever Bill Baer’s secret sabremetric bunker is located, guarded by a Cerberus capable of performing mathematic equations just before ripping your torso into carefully measured thirds, a perfectly calculated preview of Phillies-Reds matchups was unveiled, and it is a doozy.
Somebody actually wrote another “The Phillies should really sign Jayson Werth” column recently, which is like, I don’t know, the worst possible time to do that. ”Hey guys, you need a power-hitting righty to equalize this lineup, its the playoffs, and LOOK OUT KEY PLAYERS ARE LEAVING SOON.”
And if you had that sneaking feeling of dread because it’s now the post season and the umpires are gearing up for another autumn of messy callmaking, here’s a regular snarky little bitchfest on the very topic. There’s also this to consider.