My husband had to work on Mother’s Day, so when he rushed in the door about three o'clock, he was breathless.
“Happy Mother’s Day,” he panted. “How’s your day going?”
“Great,” I said.
Then I rattled off my conquests. “I cleaned the house, caught up on laundry, made your favorite dinner, and started taping the Phillies game.”
He paid me his highest compliment, “Take your pants off.”
Chad Durbin, Jose Contreras, and Brad Lidge—take your pants off.
After Cole Hamels went cold in the fifth, Charlie Manuel chomped on his gum through three bases loaded situations, two walks, four hits, and three runs. And this time Cole can’t blame his extended inning on a fielding error.
It was unfortunate—Phillie starters had a combined 1.22 ERA in May coming into this game.
To stop the bleeding, Charlie could have called in Nelson Figueroa—the starter/long reliever/reliever they acquired just for this occasion, but instead he chose Chad Durbin.
My husband looked like he smelled shit, “Disturbin’ Durbin?!” But The Durbinator showed up for the sixth and retired six straight, striking out four.
Jose Contreras—put your Pants on the Ground.
After a 1-2-3 eighth, one thing’s for certain: Jose needs a nickname. He stepped on the rubber believing there was no way the Braves were getting on base. He started the inning with a .93 ERA and now it’s so small I have to get out my reading glasses to see it.
I shall call him, “No Way Jose.”
In the ninth, Brad Lidge came in for a save situation. After his implosion last year, I wouldn’t have called him with a flat tire, but now I think he could have saved those poor people on Lost.
The first two batters Lights Out faced hit some long balls—that’s not the same as big balls.
One hit pushed Shane Victorino to the wall and the next put Raul Ibanez there. But it doesn’t matter how hard it’s hit, it matters where it lands. And he pitched with a little help from the wind.
Hey, Marilyn Monroe did her finest work with it blowing up her skirt.
In four innings the bullpen retired twelve straight but a little offense helped take home the 5-3 win.
Carlos Ruiz continues to lead the league in on-base percentage. He’s been making it around the bases at such a rapid pace I heard they’re giving away EPT’s as the next promotion.
He was part of a lineup where the first seven on the card made it safely on base at least once and three of them decided to make it all the way around on one pitch.
Placido Polanco went first.
He hit a homer in the second just to show up his single in the first, and Jayson Werth hit his 100th career dinger to make every mother’s day in the third. By the time Great Shane came to the plate in the seventh, he’d already flied out, popped out, and struck out.
Plus he was sore that Jayson had infringed on his team high RBI. All that was left was to hit one out. Now that’s a different kind of cycle.
Injuries continue to waste payroll. Paul Hoover was welcomed to Philly to backup Carlos because of the injured Brian Schneider.
Ryan Madson’s broken toe has him wishing for a do-over, J.A. Happ is still tending to his nursemaid’s elbow, and Juan Castro was available to hit but can’t run—he’s now Adam Dunn on a good day.
Wilson Valdez, the third string shortstop, hit into another double play to help Atlanta's cause. He’s now 0 for life.
Fittingly, on a day that honored mothers, Jayson Werth was once again named Phillie of the Week. There was pink on the bags, pink wrist bands, pink bats, and pink around the player's necks. The only thing missing was Jayson Werth wearing me on his lap.
Whoa, did I just say that?
On that 58th consecutive sellout, they might have given away Motrin scarves for Mother’s Day but from the signs I saw, it was obvious Jayson Werth is why moms came to the game:
My Mom is Werth It
Jayson Rings My Bell
Sorry Mom, I'd Rather Spend the Day with Jayson
Believe in the Beard— Beard Power
But none of them quite captured the thoughts of thousands like mine:
Jayson Take Your Pants Off
My sister texted me, “Jayson just bent over to stretch right in front of us.” I texted back, “My dream job is to man the camera at third base.”
Then he hit a mother with a foul ball. Not only was her pain eased when she got a game ball, she had him kiss it and make it all better. At least I hope she did. My move with stray hits had been the “Scream and Cower,” but from now on I’m diving in front of them. Then I’ll pucker up.
And to close a perfect day, the night ended with a pink sky. You know what they say… pink sky at night, sailor’s delight. I’m sure that has more to do with a girl than the weather.
Now I’m gonna answer the question some of you might have had at the start of this blog: Why was this mom doing chores on Mother’s Day?
Well, when my husband looks back on this day he won’t remember how disappointed I was that he had to work. He’ll consider how I happily spent my day, smile my way, and say those coveted words. “Take your pants off.”
And I’ll hold him to it.
See you at the ballpark.
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