Just as predicted, the rain came last night. And just as predicted, Cole Hamels found his groove.
They say the three keys to running a successful business are: location, location, location.
Well, last night Phils’ pitchers were all business, except for a few harmless hits and a one-run dinger that was airmailed to the second level. But in pitching, just as in business, you can’t please all of the people all of the time.
Especially when it comes to pitchers fielding balls. I’m not a fan and last night proved why.
Last night, history repeated itself. Cole got hurt, the bullpen scrambled for a replacement, and again, this baseball babe could think only of herself. What happened to my eye candy? He was gone way too early in the game.
I don’t know what hurts worse, Cole getting injured and being pulled when he’s doing bad, or Cole getting hurt and leaving the game when he’s doing good? I’ll have to think about that, but only in terms of how it affects me.
But wait. Chad Durbin? Please don’t tell me he’s gonna use Durbin?
My husband growled in disgust. And then Chad proved he’s a professional, too. Whew, glad history didn’t repeat itself there.
But it did with Chase Utley.
But it didn’t with Jimmy Rollins.
But it did with Phillies defense.
The fielding was epitomized by hustle and try. The defense was so hot even a fan in the stands snagged a tough foul ball.
And history wrote another chapter in the amazing chronicle of Raul Ibanez. Actually all you had to do was copy the pages from any other game and read them again. There were two sets of "ooooooooohs" coming from Broad Street last night but I don’t know whose were louder: Bruce’s or Raul’s. But no matter who you were "oooooing" for, say it loud and say it proud.
Speaking of history, was that Carlos Ruiz I saw in the dugout? Don’t tease me.
Carlos and I go way back. Okay, maybe just in my mind. Yup, he was in Philadelphia on Tuesday. I miss him so much. Wait, that’s why Phils pitching ruled! The curse was lifted simply with his presence! Who’d a thunk?
Last night they handed out Charlie Manuel bobbleheads. My nephew went to the game and asked if he should get me one. Unless I lived in an earthquake zone, I don’t see the entertainment value. I love Charlie and I love baseball; I love the strategy and I love the stories. Put that on a bobblehead and then I’ll dust it.
I have one last question: Is it necessary to show us the press box during the game? Why do we have to "see" Tom, Gary, or Chris? I love their commentary but shifting from my 25-man roster of baseball toys to watching those guys in the press box is like the network interrupting a bottom-of-the-ninth tie game with bases loaded and two outs with the Pro Bowlers Tour. Need I define "eye candy?" Okay, enough said.
So one more game tonight and then we’re off. I need it. My nerves are still shot from the Monday night game. Cole will have one more day to recover, and I’m fresh out of Alka Seltzer.
Maybe I’ll sit and meditate on my Shane Victorino bobblehead. Oh, I didn’t admit to having that? I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. He’s hot—even in a skirt.
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