Dennys Reyes Signing Eclipsed as Thing From My Dreams Happens

Midnight off the coast of Monterrey, CA.

Moonlight kisses the beach as the ocean laps casually off the sand.  The world is quiet here; a graceful fog allows infrequent headlights on the road above to gently pierce the air while above, the sky is preparing for a meteor shower. In this place, the world’s turbulence and flaws have made a hasty exit, allowing serenity to seep in and take complete control.  Here, there is peace.  There is tranquility.  There is naught but the occasional laugh of the angels.

And then we hear it.

Quiet at first, but then crescendoing into a mad chatter as a man in a Phillies hat appears, tiny in the distance.  There is a beer in each of his hands, which are raised high in the air in jubilation.

He is screaming.

No words leave his mouth, just a continuous, gleeful roar as he makes his way down the coast, lit merely by the reflections of the sun bouncing off the giant moon.


This is what happens when the Phillies sign Cliff Lee and nobody within 30 miles will get excited with me.I ran back to my hotel and heard a man with a beard talking on his cell phone.

Mumble mumble mumble Cole Hamels mumble…”

I sprinted over to him as if he had invited me to.

“IS IT REAL?!” I demanded, speaking in all capital letters.  “IS IT REAL?!”

He looked at me with sad eyes, as if a stranger had just abrasively approached him and began shouting a question, too loud and rapidly fired for him to squeeze an answer in.

“Apparently,” he replied, horrifically depressed.  “This is the worst thing ever.”

I paused, considering for a moment that I had misheard him originally, and perhaps he was in the midst of a terrifying family tragedy.

I was sort of right.

“I’m a Mets fan,” he explained.

“Oh,” I said, literally speechless, then said the only thing people are really saying to Mets fans anymore:  “…… sorry.”

The Phillies signed Cliff Lee for $100 million over five years last night, while I was yelling incoherently at the Pacific Ocean and utilizing the phrase “shit my brain,” as in, “I just shit my brain because of what’s happening.”

“I texted Cliff last week and he never said anything. I texted him again today when everything started coming out. I’m like, ‘Come on.’ He finally texted me back, ‘I’m back,’ and I was like, ‘Oh my goodness.”

–Shane Victorino

Are y… are you kidding me?  Getting that text from Cliff would have blown a gasket in my head, sending me into a state of catatonic shock that would ironically cause me to miss the entire season.

After I pretty much resigned to our biggest off season move being Jayson Werth carting a wheelbarrow full of money down the Beltway, I got this text message around nine o’clock last night:

(302):  LEE?!

It’ll have to do.

In all this madness, with all the teams struck by the genuine oddities and impossibilities of off season moves made my crazy people, let’s not forget the victims in all of this.  May they have a voice, too.

And may it gargle, linger a few humiliating moments, and die.

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  • Shane

    Rumors today are Big Joe is being shopped to Boston to eat up some salary AND there might be a swap for Mike Cameron as well!? Cameron is old, but he would be a serviceable replacement/option out there in RF and could play center field if needed. This is all happening so fast my head might explode.

  • Phills_Phaithful@UConn

    You did not disappoint in the slightest, Justin! I almost cried laughing while reading this. As you can tell I am a student up here in CT (from Philly though), so of course I had no one to celebrate with. Midnight here and I sprint down the halls of my dorm and blast open the door of my RA proclaiming the amazing news I had been following gleefully for over 2 hours. He mumbles something to the liken of “tha fuck” and “finals.” I run back to my room jumping up and down, completely at a loss as to what to do with my life. The Prodigal Son has returned! Let us celebrate!

  • Phills_Phaithful@UConn

    Found it (AKA I finally decided to look):

    “Some people, however, are still playing some baseball for some reason. When Cliff Lee isn’t uncharacteristically allowing offense or watching his family get spit on by classy New Yorkers, his hobbies include hunting, baseball, and possibly becoming a free agent.

    That said, the Phillies have no chance of collecting him a second time.

    That said, nothing has stopped us from conjuring images of him arriving back in Philly, hugging it out with Ruben Amaro and high-fiving with Doc in such a way that sends a dimension-shattering shock wave into the cosmos. Of course, having endless money as the Yankees do, Cliff can’t afford to eliminate them from his potential 2011 suitors just because his family is still washing the Empire State’s saliva out of their hair. But plenty of other teams would welcome a pitcher who fails to experience negative form of human emotions.

    I believe we’re stuck playing “if only” in these particular Cliff Lee sweepstakes, not that that is a bold prediction in any way.”
    – November 1st, Justin Klugh

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