Sunday, April 23, 2017

The full year of bipolar trauma experienced in yesterday's win

April games should be forgettable, almost meaningless, when compared to the grinding immensity of the six months. Who cares about April? We should accept each outcome with a grain of salt - not a line of crystal meth the length of an adult anaconda. Still, yesterday's win inspired a range of primal emotions that can usually be found only in Nicholas Cage movies. For example, my Cage moments...

Third inning, down 3-0, still hitless: "Why do I bother? Why did I think this team had potential? We'll get get swept... by Pittsburgh! Fucking Pittsburgh! Thank you, Starlin Castro, thank you for dropping that pop-up last night. You ended our season, you killed us. Now, we're getting shut out. We're getting no-hit. We'll drop two in a row, and then tomorrow, Ivan Nova will pitch his revenge game, we won't score, and then we'll be swept by Boston - six straight losses, negating the win streak, putting us back at .500 - and then we'll lose to Baltimore, and we should start cleaning house... now. Right now! Trade Headley. Trade Castro. Trade them all. WHY DID I THINK ANYTHING GOOD COULD HAPPEN? WHAT WAS I THINKING? I HOPE THIS GUY N0-HITS US. IT'LL SERVE US RIGHT. WHY DO I BOTHER?"

Top of the sixth, up 5-3: "Starlin Castro! Three run shot! Thank you, Starlin Castro - unbelievable. Sixth comeback of the season - in only April. Six times. Last year, it was probably August before we notched our sixth comeback. This team never quits. We got this game. Our bullpen is our strongest asset. Tomorrow, we'll murder Nova, show the bum exactly why we dealt his sorry ass for a bucket of fried chicken, and then we'll rip up Boston in their little living room man cave. WE CAN DO THIS! WE CAN WIN IT ALL!"

Bottom of the sixth, tied 5-5: "Pathetic. Forget 2017 and 2018. We should be thinking of 2020. We have no bullpen. No lead is safe. What was I thinking, deluding myself that our bullpen is solid? I WAS BUYING THEIR 'YES TEAM' CRAP! Once the bullpen goes, you're done, and our bullpen is fried like a hockey puck. Girardi is burning out Betances - from now on, I'll call him "Scott Proctor-tances" - and this kid Holder can't hold his balls in an egg cup. Send him down, Joe. Trenton him! Tomorrow, Nova will kill us - I HOPE HE DOES! Because it won't matter, our bullpen would only blow the lead anyway. We could have signed a decent pitcher, but noooooo, Albert Einstein Cashman signed Chris Fucking Carter... Mr. 200 Strikeouts Per Season, instead. What the fuck is wrong with us? Maybe we should bring in Carter to pitch. He can't do worse than Holder. We are dead. Dead."

Ninth, up 11-5: "CHRIS FUCKING CARTER! UNBELIEVABLE! CHRIS FUCKING CARTER! One swing, boom, that's how you change a game, that's how you change a season, that's how you put yourself in Monument Park! CHRIS FUCKING CARTER! Tomorrow, we'll own "Super" Nova - "Stupor" Nova - and when we hit Boston, WE will have the two biggest guys in the park: Aaron Fucking Judge and Chris Fucking Carter. For the last ten years, Boston's had the biggest fucking guy in the park. Now, we've got the biggest fucking guys in the park. The other day, that little peanut midget embryo fly-speck quark poodle Dustin Pedroia couldn't even handle a slide by Manny Machado. Wait'ill he meets the cleats of Aaron Fucking Carter. (I mean Aaron Fucking Judge.) Aaron Fucking Judge will splatter him against the Green Monster like a gnat on a windshield. GODDAMM! I LOVE THIS FUCKING TEAM!"

This morning: "Jeez, Nova? What if he beats us? I can't eat."

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

I diagnose a classic case of "rollercoasterus dispositionitis", duque - - only cure I know of: DVR the game, and don't pay attention until it's over. Brutal, I know, and the rehab is worse, but it sounds as if you have it bad (I oughtta' know, my name appears next to this malady in the med textbooks). LB (No J)

JJ in MA said...

It is insane how right you are. About all of this. Also nervous for Nova today. I think part of it is not knowing this team yet and who or what is going to show up on a given day.

Anonymous said...

El duque, if this wasn't so close to your "truth" it would funny. I suggest you see your medical professional or bartender. Your choice.

Local Bargain Jerk said...


Ok, I've been researching this all morning:

    Little peanut midget embryo fly-speck quark poodle Pedroia

If we use two lines, a small font, and some creative kerning, I think we can get it to fit on the back of his uniform.

Looking forward to watching the Super Nova flame out.

John M said...

Today's mission, should we choose to accept it, is to crush Nova. Destroy him. Knock him out in the first or second inning. Get to the Pirates' bullpen very early and then crush them, too.

It's a matter of honor.

joe de pastry said...

I remain pessimistic, as I have been for two years.
But if we win at least two in Boston . . .

Anonymous said...

You win again, Joe - - are you tired of "winning" yet?? Not me....us English-scolds gotta' stick together. I'm with ya', regardless....but Boston (Godfrey Daniels!! In Boston's case, Two Outta' Three Ain't Good Enough....

We need to grind that mewling, pablum-spitting, vertically-challenged tiny punk back into the dirt, from whence he arose - - now that we don't have Big Poop-Face to kick around, anymore....sigh. LB (No J)