Wednesday, July 20, 2005

Day of the Locusts

So, I was going to mark my return from the police drama genre (initial three-episode run commissioned by the network) with something upbeat, perhaps something informative---heck, maybe even something evaluative. I was thinking about singing the praises of ¡LIVAN! or noting how much I like Preston Wilson's elongated sideburns or composing a jangly ballad dedicated to Bodes. And then, time permitting, I'd get around to discussing today's momentous transactions or pen a thorough analysis of such or even mull some intriguing speculation regarding a move that . . .

Oh, who am I kidding? The Colorado Rockies just beat the Nats. Yeah, again! Those mile high morons took two out of three from our Natty Nats---in RFK! No one does that; RFK's like hallowed ground for the UnderArmour set! The Nats were absolutely impervious there . . . just a few weeks ago!

And, if you think the previous paragraph had far too many exclamation points (and it did!!!!), consider that the Rox just won their first road series tonight---all freakin' year! It's true! When those chuckleheads limped into DC two nights ago, no one had heard of John Roberts . . . and the Rox had seven road wins. For the whole season! That's like a Charlotte Bobcat stat, man.

Well, things do change quickly, don't they, and now these gimps have nine road wins. How nice. You think I'm being hard on the Rockies here? Pfft. They can barely throw the ball to one another, and I'm not even considering accuracy. The whole team has Mackey Sasser Syndrome. The catcher throws around-the-horn on a strikeout, and the ball ends up in left field. The pitcher wants to change out a baseball, and his toss back to the catcher ends up at the backstop. We all thought B.J. Kim was being wily the other night with that wild pitch thing; turns out he's just a member of the Colorado Rockies.

Maybe some of the Nats' players want in on that action; if so, I'd almost recommend acceding to their wishes, because this brand of baseball royally sucked. In the first inning tonight, Jose Vidro laced a double to right-center. The Rockies, as is their common plan and scheme, fumbled the ball; the relay toss never made it, and the ball literally rolled toward third base. Meanwhile, Vidro---apparently forgetting that he's allowed, under the rules of baseball, to stop at second---kept running. So, here's this baseball just pathetically rolling across the infield diamond . . . and I do mean pathetically---I recall executing a similar manuever in a drunken game of bocce ball with some friends late one night . . .

. . . and the third baseman is running to meet the ball, and he gets there in time to scoop the ball and tag Vidro, who is just galavanting by like he's fixated on (dearly departed) Wil Cordero's biceps or something.

I wrote the previous paragraph-and-a-sentence badly on purpose; really, I did! Why did I shift tenses in there? I dunno . . . just 'cuz. But guess what? Put the Nats' play tonight and the previous paragraph-and-a-sentence on a common evaluative scale, and what results is the King James Bible.

And this crap was matched two nights previously! (Special thanks to John Patterson last night's effort, by the way. And the four-run outburst---positively Vesuvian!)

Well, this long ago turned into a rant---and if it's not about Peter Angelos, I rarely find the motivation to rant. So just pick up the remote and see if any of my colleagues have anything more reasonable to say . . .

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