Fuck, Followers, we got ourselves a nice little nipple-hardening roll going on here! Four straight fucking wins, three off the Rockies and 2 of those wins were off opposing pitching staff aces Ubaldo Jiminez and Cardinals Adam Wainwright. Things are looking fucking fantastic for the Men in Red Stripes. I haven't been crying much. Please ignore the Everything But The Girl reference in the post title.Tomorrow I'll try to tie in a Duncan Sheik song title into the headline.
J.A. Happ made his first start since April and came with a proper quality start like no time had lapsed since his arm strain. 5 innings of work giving up only 3 runs, 4 hits and 1 BB while he K'd 4 and looked the part of Big League Starter. If it hadn't a been for the corny and shitty hour-and-a-half rain delay I'm sure Happ could've gotten at least 3, maybe 6 more outs under his sack. I guess we'll never know. Supposedly he's being as trade bait for Roy Oswalt, as well, so we may actually never know. At least on our staff.
Benny Franciso and J-Roll came to the swingers party with all the fucking favors. Big Ben put a Jeff Frances fastball back up his ass, out his mouth and into the seats in deep left field to get the Phils on the board for 2 while Jimmy socked Exxon Valdez in with a RBI single in the bottom 7th off reliever Joe Beimel. Rox' centerfielder Carlos Gonzales booted the ball on the play and Roll advanced to 2nd base.
One batter later as Jayson Werth came up to pull his usual walk or strike out in the face of danger (RISP), Rafael Betancourt tosses a pitch in the dirt that gets away from Rox's catcher Miguel Olivo but Nuno Betancourt didn't cover the plate like a dumb dickhead allowing Roll to come barreling down the 3rd base line to score the go ahead run. 4-3, Phils!
A good show from the Bullpen from 6th to 8th kept things clean bring up Brad To the Bone Lidge to clinch the save in the top 9th.
I've figure out the perfect metaphor for a Brad Lidge save. It's a near-death experience. There's one out and nobody on in a 1-run game when Lidge gives up a walk then a line-drive single through the middle You feel yourself starting to lose conscientiousness. You begin to feel very light and cold. But then an out is recorded and your bodily weight feels substantial again but not for long enough to breathe in. Just as the gravity of life begins to return, Jason Giambi walks to the plate with 2 outs and 2 on. You begin to hear the faint sound of your grandmother beckoning from the other side. Giambi's fierce girth crowds the plate like fat-camp escapee intimidating Lidge into throw garbage until ball four is called. The bases are loaded. You can see the light, it's blinding you from somewhere above the Liberty Bell. You hear music, the best music you've eve fucking heard in your life. You see Abe Lincoln fucking Ethel Merman over a pile of Authentic On-Field Ryan Howard, Steve Carlton and Ricky Jordan jerseys that are all yours once you inherit your destiny in the heavens above. You feel scared but intrigued. Just as you've accepted your new path to a higher plain of being one of the fiercest sliders crosses home plate for strike 3 and you come thunderously crashing down to earth like the rays of the morning sun on salvation day. You feel peace. Brad Lidge has saved us. 4-3.
This is just how you feel when he DOES save the game. I can't even possibly muster the gumption to be that eloquent when he fucks my life up that severely.
We got one more today with the Rox and the series that we should win on paper; a Haren-less D-backs since he got booted to Anaheim and the Nationals, both at home. This is a perfect a chance as ever to regain some of that lost ground from the Knaves. Yes, these are series that we should dominate in theory but I'm not gonna go calling the shots before the guns even loaded. Right now we gotta hope that Big Joe Blanton can get finally get that booyah start that he's been diggin' in for all season long to sweep the Rox.
So, tomorrow I have an appointment with an anesthesiologist at the Cooma Hospital. Yes, Followers, it's time to surgically take care of my stigmata, my affliction. After 6 long years it's time to say goodbye to Pilonidal cyst #2. Piley, it's been fun. I'll never forget all the jeans and underwear you've stained as you gave me the closest taste into the insight of a menstruating woman. Auf-wiedersehen, Piley. The operation is next week so we'll be having a few special guests take over TBSS for a day or two. I guess I'll be in that awful hospital for a few days laid up dealing with sponge-baths from 75 year old immigrant nurses. Yes, I'm horny. Yes, I'll be documenting all of this. Stay tuned, F's and remember.....fuck new york and fcuk new york.