View from the Left Coast by a Lefty: Don't know if I'm pissed, crushed, or guilty

                         

Yesterday morning at 8:40am, I walked out my front door on the way to work. I was greeted by the beautiful sound of wood bats cracking against horsehide. Some of you may not know but I live directly across the street from the SF Giants spring training facility in Scottsdale, AZ. Three drop dead gorgeous baseball fields. One next to the other. Maintained the same way as the best golf courses out here. I can only guess it was Fall ball practice for one of the teams here, but not sure. It also sits next to one of the best gyms in the state, Club Sar, and across the street from the Scottsdale Culinary Institute known across the country. Great location, unless you've been a Phillies fan since 1958, but great none the less.

I took those cracks to be an omen. They made me smile bigtime so in my mind that was a good omen. Turned out to be a double whammy, as I cooked up a little white lie to leave work early and catch two game 5's for both my teams. Yes, I like the Dbacks, how could a baseball fan not like them? But when they're head to head I go to Chase wearing Phillie gear and rooting for home, same as I do when the Eagles come here, along with the Flyers.

So the baseball gods gave me a double fuck you. I was watching the Dbacks, with my playoff tickets picked out online. All they had to do was win and I click check out... but the Dbacks checked out instead. At least they went out with heads held high, overachievers maybe, but still high. They had nothing to mourn. In fact, things haven't looked so good here for them for quite a while. I just wish it had been anybody BUT that asshole Morgan/TPlush/whatever. He makes my skin crawl and reminds me why I'm not on Twitter.

Then, I settled in for one of the biggest disappointments of my life. Each inning gone by I felt a little more life drain from my fat old body. I swear this year was worse than last year. We have become the Yankees... overpaid and underachieving. Until this week, I had thought that this year was Chollie's best job ever, keeping us on top of MLB by juggling Valdez, Martinez, Mayberry, Schneider, Stutes, Bastardo, Worely, Kendrick et all. Even handling Hamels and Oswalt's injuries too... but it was all smoke and no fire. BUT... then came this week. WHY he didn't bat Victorino third and Pence fifth I'll never know. As much as I'd like to I'm not gonna rip Howard, and feel bad he popped his Achilles. I will only say that Kirk Gibson would not have molly coddled this team the way Chollie did the last week or two, and I think that's exactly what they needed... their collective asses kicked as a wakeup.

So here I sit, Sat morning, 11am, getting bunted. Alternating between rum and coke, vodka and iced tea, and Michelob Ultra... wondering if my little white lie is the root cause of my feeling like shit... or if the baseball gods actually have a plan. All I can say is if they do have a plan, I can tell you it sucks royal azz, and after each drink I have to change my screen resolution to finish this. Let's all get bunted, and go Flyers!

                                                Bill S/aka netfather