Baseball Gods: Please, Hear Us Out

Baseball Gods, you know that we prayed, fasted, and flogged for you to hear our cries.

All Maria and I asked was that Cincinnati Reds' manager, Dusty Baker be fired. 

In no way whatsoever did we insist that the man be humiliated in the faces of his friends, family, fans, and you, the heartless Baseball Gods.

Baseball Gods, yes, we are calling you out.  Right here, right now.

Maria is a fellow Reds' fan.  She is also one of my girl fans on this site (she uses a different picture of course).  We talk frequently about the way you Baseball Gods are always trying to teach us that worn out cliché, "Be careful what you ask for."

You know what?  We were careful.  By the grace of Shoeless Joe Jackson, we were careful.  We did not ask for off-the-cuff, willy nilly help. 

We fasted for three weeks in late June and early July.  We flogged.  Yes, we flogged a lot for you Baseball Gods.

I ask you, Baseball Gods... did we spend all of those mornings, mid-mornings, nooners, early afternoons, mid-afternoons, early, mid, late evenings, and three times before sleeping—was all of that flogging in vain?

We flogged our brains out for all of you—yes, even Cap Anson.  And for what?  The blisters?

Do you have any idea how many blisters we each received?  Oh yeah, you do because you are the "all knowing" Baseball Gods.

So I guess you also know that you have turned our Reds into the laughingstock of baseball.  And you know that since the All-Star break we have the worst record of all 30 Major League teams.

Since the break, for Babe Ruth's sake, we are the only team still with a single digit in the win column.

The Nationals just took three of four from us, the Pirates are on the verge of sweeping us on Sunday. 

For the love of The Mick, we have a right fielder from the Netherlands.  Nothing against the Netherlands, beautiful country.  And nothing against the Dutch, wonderful people.

What's next?  A second baseman from Iceland to take over for Brandon Phillips?

Jimmy Foxx, I don't know how much more of this I can handle.

Please, Baseball Gods, stop embarrassing the team.  Stop embarrassing Dusty.  Most of all please stop embarrassing Cincinnati.

In the meantime, Maria and I will start flogging again—even if we have to flog through football and basketball season. 

It's for the good of the team.  And we will prove to you merciless Baseball Gods that we are worthy of a playoff season.