Friday, October 9, 2009

You'll Always Remember Your First Time, Part 21

They say you never forget your first time. And with October upon us, the vivid memories of my first time witnessing a professional Philadelphia franchise win a championship are ripe in my head. Even with football underway, I find myself wandering back to that glorious month of October, 2008. It's something I want to relive again and again. In fact, that's exactly what I'm going to do, republishing my feelings during the wild ride to becoming 2008 World Fucking Champions. View part 1 here, part 2 here, part 3 here, part 4 here, part 5 here, part 6 here, part 7 here, part 8 here, part 9 here, part 10 here, part 11 here, part 12 here, part 13 here, part 14 here, part 15 here, part 16 here, part 17 here, part 18 here part 19 here and part 20 here.

Today is part 21, originally posted Oct. 24, 2008:

A Game of Epic Fail

All right, maybe last night's game wasn't on par with this epic fail, but it was as close as you can get in one game.



I gotta tell you, all day long I had a great feeling about last night's game. At work, I was calm, cool and collected, just sensing the Phils were primed to go up 2-0. I should have known better. And, well, I think my brain was trying to tell me not to get my hopes up too much about 15 minutes before the game. Sitting on my couch, preparing to take in game 2, I got an awful feeling that the Phillies would lose. Despite my confidence all day long, right before it was time, I could sense things were going to go wrong. And oh did they ever go wrong.

In fact, it would hard to write about what went right for the Phillies last night. Carlos Ruiz was the best player on the field for the Phillies, and he still had an error. And Eric Bruntlett had the only RBI of the night with his solo home run in the 8th. Other than that, the Phils didn't do shit. Sure, Howard got two hits, but of course he's going to get pitches when no one is on base.

No, last night was a game of epic failures. The candidates are many. There was Greg Dobbs, a man I can't recall striking out in consecutive at-bats all season long, whiffing his first two at-bats in situations where the only thing he couldn't do was strike out.



Or it could be Jimmy Rollins, who's been missing in action in Tampa. Hey Jimmy, WAKE THE FUCK UP! This is the World Series. And if you think fans were hard on you when you ran your stupid fucking mouth, just wait until they get a hold of you tomorrow if you continue to go 0-for in the series.



Shit, 0-for-10 in two games? Desi Relaford could do better than that.

There's also Pat, who doesn't seem too interested in joining this World Series party either. And Chase and Pedro each put up 0-fors last night as well, but at least those guys helped win game 1.

Brett Myers could also be a good candidate. Sure, he kept the Phils in the game, even went seven innings. In fact, overall, it was not a bad outing. Except for that first inning. Oh, the first inning—Brett Myers' nemesis.



Someone really needs to get Brett up and throwing about a half hour before the game and tell him it's the first inning then. Or hypnotize him before he goes out there to make him think the first inning was already played. I mean, you cannot, absolutely cannot, keep giving up first-inning runs in the World Series and expect to win. That's science. Just look at the first two games.

And of course, there's this guy:



Kerwin Danley, you should never be allowed to umpire a little league softball game again, let alone a god damn World Series. Never before have I ever seen an umpire call a guy out on strikes, only to then appeal to first and then let that guy walk to first base. I mean, it was plain as day. You called Rocco Baldelli out. And he should have been out. He fucking swung the bat. Instead, he ended up on first because you are fucking moron and the first base umpire was as blind as you are.

Then, in the 9th, you completely ignore the fact that David Price fucking hit Jimmy's jersey with a pitch. It was clear as day you blind fuck. Certainly, Jimmy getting on base there, instead of popping out, could have changed the outcome of that ninth inning. Maybe not, and without question, the Phils deserved to lose that game. But that doesn't mean you should get off the hook. I hope terrible things happen to you and your family the rest of your lives, you fuck. Actually, all I want is my 75 cents back, an apology and for him to be fired.



Not Skittles indeed.

Anyway, the epic fail of the day could go to any of the above mentioned parties. But no, last night's epic fail goes to one person and one person only: Jayson Werth. I've grown to like Jayson over the last two years, but last night was inexcusable. Mr. Iracane sums it up nicely:

Who should Phillies fans be hanging in effigy this morning? Sorry, Jayson Werth, but your douchey facial hair and extraneous 'Y' in your first name can't save you now. You made your first error of the year in the first inning; that led to a Rays run. You went 1-for-5 at the plate with 2 K's and three men left on base. Sure, you threw out Rocco Baldelli at home to prevent a Rays run, but he returned the favor later and doubled you off first base on a liner.




I mean, Jayson, that was one of the worst games from anyone ever. You struck out with a runner on third and less than two outs. You made your FIRST ERROR OF THE SEASON in the fucking World Series. And you got doubled up off first on a fly ball to right field to end the inning, with Ryan Howard waiting on deck. Last night, Mr. Werth, you sucked worse than anyone. You were the winner (loser?) of the epic fail of the night.

That was awful. So let's put it behind us and get a win tomorrow. Or Sunday. Or whenever the hell game 3 is going to be played. Jamie Moyer (God help us) takes the mound against Matt Garza in game 3. These two have an awful lot in common. Like being in the Major Leagues and the World Series.

Actually, other than that, the two couldn't be any more opposite. Garza is a young righthanded, flame-throwing Latino who has been dominant in the postseason and also has three brothers who absolutely suck at singing. Jamie is the oldest player in baseball, a lefty, throws softer than Sean Considine hits people, is of the vanilla complexion and has completely blown donkey balls in the playoffs.

And you know what, as Chase Utley would say, I still like their chances. Why? I have no idea.

So back to Philadelphia, where baseball is meant to played—outdoors—and back in the win column.

LET'S GO PHILS!!!!!

BallHype: hype it up!

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