Okay, We Have A Name Now ; Pineapples

Duque's magical imagination has now given us an important, and long-lasting, new bit of baseball rhetoric;  The Pineapple.

A loss that hurts so badly, it is as if......well, he has articulated the rest.

Clearly, yesterday's failure to win was as excruciating as our comeback from down 9-1 was exhilarating.  And this has to be true for both sides;  the players; the coaches and managers; and the fans.

 The owners don't give a rat's ass about the outcomes, because the crowds were huge, the tv audience gargantuan, and the spending at the park monumental.  In other words, the money was just fine, thank you.  Just ask Hal.  He won't even recall the scores.

I blame it all on Greg Bird and, likely, his lingering injury.  If he were contributing at all, this loss doesn't happen.  He bangs out a double,  a walk, and maybe even a sacrifice fly in the 10th.  Instead of the endless strikeouts, infield pop-ups, and one hop ground balls (for easy force outs at home) provided by teammates trying to cover for him.  If Bird is doing what he is theoretically capable of, we win this game early.  Three times, maybe four, all we needed was for someone to get the ball out of the infield.   But no one could do that, yesterday.

Which brings me to an issue:  I still cannot get over the last out Greg made the day before, when he jogged/limped to first base on his ground ball to second ( fielded in the outfield, due to the shift).  Is no one watching?  People in this game are criticized for failure to hustle, and there is no criticism forthcoming.  Ergo, he is playing with an injury and he should be resting or in surgery.  What is going on?

I take some solace from Duque's cautions on perspective...the butterfly fart, and all.  But this loss will be remembered.  If we need a win in September, it will because we could not perform in this game.

A victory was virtually handed to us, at least three times, yesterday.  Three chances to destroy Baltimore and their confidence.  Three chances to make Buck take off those shades, stop chewing, and beat his head against the dugout roof.  Three chances to hold on the to the lead in the AL East.

Instead, we shoved a pineapple up our butts.

I still can't walk.