They worried about his playoff experience, so he threw a no-hitter. The Phillies were in mid-trainwreck, so he threw a perfect game. He threw more innings, faced more batters, and won more games than anybody else in the league.
I remember first hearing about the execution of the Halladay deal. Tweets weres popping up with messages like “REPORTS SAY HALLADAY IS IN PHILADELPHIA RECEIVING PHYSICAL.”
Never had the probing for disease of injury to the human body warranted such abuse of caps lock. Everything was fed to us like we were WWII era informants channeling data through the pipeline. All along, some idea that this was just a ridiculous myth had to be maintained; otherwise, it wouldn’t come true.
And then we has there, smiling with his name on the back of a Phillies jersey, Ruben Amaro standing nearby like a man who’d just seen God’s face.
Its a bittersweet nod for Roy to win the NL Cy Young, albeit unanimously. Sure, it’s an honor for a pitcher, but Roy could have won that anywhere (he already has one in Toronto). He came to Philly for the World Series, which we failed to deliver. He saw the playoffs, and… yeah, I am actually still talking about this… but I guess he’ll have to settle for another boring ‘ol *SIGH* Young.
I mean, yeah, fine, all 32 first place votes went to him for only the 13th time in history. Maybe a Phillie hadn’t won the award since 1987 (EDITOR’S NOTE: Steve Bedrosian shout out, whaaaaaat). And maybe you’d have to be a whining, self-indulgent douche to fester and dwell on an irreversible moment from weeks ago.
It’s not often you get to watch a devastating, possibly-cyborg starting pitcher seer his way through lineups full of professional hitters. In response to the news, Roy pitched a shutout and then ran stairs while being a spectacular family man.