If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.
This could be a short post.
I haven’t even seen the game yet (yeah, that mommy thing), and I’m wondering if I should. My dad already foiled the ending with a late night Facebook post with the result. Is it illegal to un-friend your dad?
So I’m warming up to it—a lot like Phillies pitching this year. I haven’t powered up the TV and the pitching staff hasn’t turned on the power.
My husband is so discontented with Jamie, before the game he said, “The Dodgers are gonna hit the snot out of Moyer.”
“Why, honey,” I said, “that’s awful negative.”
He continued, “Remember the playoffs last year?”
Remember the Alamo?
And he says women have selective recall. I hate it when he's right.
So, judging from the stats, it looks like a number of things are certain: Jimmy’s liking the five spot, although he says he’s a leadoff man; Raul’s silently chipping away at leading team stats, although he says he’s just here to help the ball club; Shane’s still a hottie, even though his bat is cold.
Jamie has a bad three-game streak going although no one seems to know how to make it better, and now JA Happ-y will be seen smiling on the mound in the Saturday double header.
Things get more interesting all the time.
Maybe Jamie’s just screwed up over the anticipation of getting his 250th win—kind of like the pre-prom jitters. Maybe what he needs is a new hairdo, a manicure, a pretty dress, and a shot of Schnapps.
Hey, it helped me.
See you at the ballpark.
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