Sight fading ...
Five walks ...
Two innings ...
No wins. Two losses ...
Must keep breathing ...
9.45 ERA ...
General Manager in New York thinking he's in Minnesota: "You've got to expect the growing pains."
Strength fading ...
Must. Turn. To. Bullpen.
Fire! Fire! Run away!
Manager melting: ""I don't want to get into semantics, OK? Minor, major -- you've got to throw strikes. That's the bottom line. I am not a mechanics guy. You've got to throw strikes. ... It doesn't test me. I hate losing. That tests me. People, I believe in my people."
Pitcher delusional: "My mechanics are fine. My arm feels great."
Fading fast. ...
I see lights. Too many candles on birthday cakes? Too many lights on scoreboard?
Walking toward the lights.
Walking ...
Mom? Is that you?
Last night was like watching the Zapruder film, except that it was my head exploding.
ReplyDeleteFortunately, though, he didn't waste a good outing on a night that we weren't going to score any runs.