Were you watching last night’s game?
Well fine, I wasn’t either.
But you should know, I’m tired of hearing that the season is young, that anything can happen, that you’re going to turn things around. Quite frankly, I’m tired of lip service. I’m not paying to watch cute boys in tight pants play with their bats, and I am not paying to listen to excuses. I’m paying to watch a ballgame. Not a team that happens to wear some jerseys that look familiar.
Last night I listened to the first inning – when we were shelled. Then I tuned in for the ninth – when we got shelled again. At some point in the 7 innings in between I am told we played a good game. I’m told Timmy Wake performed like the stud he is, picking up the rest of Dice-K’s broken ego after another disappointing outing. I’m told we homered five times.
What was I doing instead? Laundry. Because clean sheets are always a good decision. Out of habit, I switched on the game. Perfectly timed to catch Papelbon implode on the mound just as I switched the wash.
It got me thinking: Maybe it’s time to take out the trash too?
Think about it,