No he isn't. He's sure shitting up the place a bit but he's no rummy. Roy Halladay, the Straight White Hope that we all thought would go 25 wins and give up .034 runs all season is showing signs of pressure failure. Sure he can't win every game but yesterday was simply ridiculous. Carl Pavano, really? 4-hits? That's all the cock we could muster? I know any 4-1 loss hurts, especially when Wilson Valdez is the only one with the ballbag to get a run on the board, but this lack of offense after a gangbuster weekend is just fucking mystifying. It's as if Halladay knows that offense won't support him so why not work fast and get it over with.11 hits is bad for any pitcher to lob but fucking the Great Roy-Boy? I don't know what excuse to throw at you, Followers, for this kind of mediocre performance. I know it's not even my place, it's his, but I still like to hypothesise. He's not over-worked, he's certainly not secretly injured. What is it? The new found pressure of pitching for a team in contention? Me thinks a bit but he's professional and works through it like the best of them. Perhaps yesterday was just a shitty start and that's that? Really in his last 3 losses he's given up a grand total of 14 runs. Jamie Moyer, who's pitching has been the spectre of greatness, and Joe Blanton gave that up more in 2 innings last weekend. Maybe it's the perfect game curse? He's only had 1 win since and all the spooks that fly around the diamond night and night can cast quite the imposing spell upon a man who keeps binders on batters. Even the most analytical can be superstitious.
There are a million supposed reasons for Roy's recent decline and lack of support and I'm not gonna pretend like I know what the fuck is happening like some limp-dicked columnist but the one thing I can tell you is that it sucks dog-dick. Just a bad roll. We can hit and then we can't for the Ace. Roy's got control of the zone and then he doesn't. It's natural. Take it of leave it. I'll take it. I like Roy, a lot. I want him to succeed. For you, for me, for all good peoples of the good city, Philadelphia. I'm just fatigued from walking around asking myself questions like "What the fuck is going on in the fucking piece of shit world?" all day long. Remember, F's, here on Penis Island I watch games a 9am most days and I have all fucking day to ruminate on the events. A loss really is a shitty way to begin a day. I get frustrated, angry, bitchy and woman-y but eventually get over it. I am such a girl about this shit but fuck it. It's all I've got in the anal fissure of a setting. I'm rolling with the reamings.
Roy's next start is next week against the Jays, his former outfit. They fucking lit him up in ST. I'm not calm.
We got the Tribe this week, a team I hold dear to the heart having lived in Cleveland for 2 years. I still hope we tune them up real good. We need the wins and we need 'em bad if we don't want Milt Thompson and Rich Dubee standing in the unemployment line come October. 95 left. Let's make 'em count.
I, with every fibre of my being, hate the sight of Mr. Cock, Mark Teixeira's gauche chompers and his cunty grin staring down any of our starters but it was mighty fucking delightful to watch him send a salami over the wall against Santana yesterday. That's 2 for the year, Blohan. I seem to remember the other one.......
RIP MANUTE. 47. Fucking Jamie Moyer is 47.
Fuck new york and brush you hair.