Crack the champagne, it’s that time of year again. Hey, if Michael can do a random shout-out to a country, I should certainly be able to draw some attention to the best week on the calendar. (No not Shark Week.) Baseball season.
So I’m not from Pennsylvania or a Phillies fan, but Allison is, so I’ll grovel for some bonus points and commend her on the heck of a game her team played today in their opener. It didn’t look good for most of the day, but they pulled it out with a big walk-off win in the bottom of the ninth that saved Halladay from a shocking 0-1 record.
The Phillies sure aren’t the same team everyone talked about in the off-season though. I tuned in expecting to see several names that weren’t on the roster. Man, they got hammered with injuries. It will certainly make the N.L East race more interesting than originally anticipated. I’m not sure having the Four Aces will be enough if their entire starting lineup is on rehab assignments. Still, any fan is lying to you if they said they wouldn’t trade their car and the wife’s little Fluffy for the Phillies’ pitching staff, shaky bullpen and all. Unbelievable. Probably the only thing that could slow them down is the Sports Illustrated Cover Curse. Good luck with that Philadelphia . If I were you I would have called a cheese steak truce, joined forces, and made sure that cover didn’t happen. But you didn’t. And the rest of the National League thanks you.
The Boston/Texas game was decent as well up until the 8th when Texas just manhandled Boston . I don’t know why, but there’s a special place in my heart for the Rangers. Not a Rangers fan by any means, but there’s this itty bitty ember that warms my soul when they beat up on the big boys. And yes, sorry Boston , but as much as you still like to think you’re the lovable underdog, you’re now in Yankees territory to the rest of the world. (Except when you’re playing the Yankees, of course).
So let the marathon begin. Here’s to finally being able to open the window and enjoy the sweet caress of the spring breeze as I doze off on the couch every Sunday afternoon listening to the beautiful drone of pitch counts and collective heartache when the homerun ball drifts foul. (Except in Philly where it snowed today.)
I love baseball.
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