There’s not that there’s anything particularly or garishly wrong with B.J. Rosenberg. It’s that seeing him out there means we’ve reached a certain level of curious desperation. B.J. hasn’t made the roster out of Clearwater for years now, living out every child’s dream of toiling away in Double-A Reading as hope in a fulfilling Major League career fade ever dimmer.
But here he is, giving up game-winning home runs to Adam Jones like a reliever whose been hurling for the Phillies for years.
Fortunately for B.J., the Phillies bullpen is in such violent disarray, blame is re-assigned on a nightly basis. Will he be a standout young star, finally given a chance to succeed? Or will he be merely the next eviscerated ingredient, dropped into a blender caked with the guts of his predecessors?
His body is already starting to fail him, as he could not get to sleep the night before his first appearance. The right-hander was warned that if he chose to, he could get out now, and avoid the wrath of whatever is hunting and killing Phillies pitchers. But, sadly enough…
“It’s still one of the best days of my life.”
So, B.J. steps into a role vacated by Raul Valdes, who actually isn’t leaving because an important part of him has shattered or ripped in half. He’s actually done quite well, but the Phillies are for once deciding that a pitcher may not hold up in high pressure situations without watching him give up a five-run eighth first. But with so little to play for, a high pressure situation for a Phillies reliever at this point would be deciding what kind of gum to buy as the cashier scans the last of his groceries.
Perhaps one of the beautiful things of this season will be that the careers of young hurlers who assumed the worst will be set free to make Major League debuts all summer long. Perhaps our mix of devastating injuries and extremely poor baseball playing will be exactly what even more career NRIs need to see the Big Club.
We still have the chance to make this a summer of dreams! And B.J. Rosenberg, as 0-1 as it was, would be the start. Sure a lot of people had to suffer to make this happen. But isn’t that what baseball is all about? Endless suffering? In recent golden eras, we may have lost sight of that. So let’s take solace in our young crew, or over 30 and never got a chance crew, and hope that their youth in some way forms a protective bubble around them that keeps them safe from oh shit Freddy Galvis broke his back.