When the sunlight reflects off this sign at just the right angle, you can make out the faint hidden hologram message: “Suck it, Phillies.”
Final Score: Nationals 8, White Sox 7.
Belle of the Ball: Adam LaRoche. Adam’s two home runs made me forgive his 0-14 start to the season, but will I ever forget? Yeah, probably, in a couple months.
Smell of the Ball: Rafael Soriano. Save or no, Soriano smelled like a toilet that had gone unflushed flushed for a thousand years.
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Man, I love Gio Gonzalez. Can’t get enough of him. I go to all his starts. I love when he pitches, when he hits, when he just sits in the dugout and grins, when he balks with the bases loaded–wait. No. I hate when he does that. Damn it, Gio.
But even in the face of such a balk, I will not balk (HA) at expressing my affection for Gio, especially when he follows it up with four scoreless innings.
…broker a bipartisan agreement on immigration reform? No? Oh, well.
The first half of this game was primarily characterized by Nationals getting hits and then just running until they got thrown out. Which is fun to watch in the same way that it would be fun to watch someone show up at your door with a $10,000,000 lottery check and then immediately burst into flames.
We didn’t have the Violence Against Women Act back when these guys were in office, so I guess this is understandable.
The Presidents Race was turned into a marketing event for HBO with the introduction of fictional vice president Selena Meyer. A little odd, but I’m happy that the race is open to vice presidents, fictional or otherwise. It’s only a matter of time before we get to see Joe Biden running around the warning track firing a shotgun into the air as he goes to scare off any pickpockets.
At least Selena didn’t win. I don’t think this country is ready for a woman Presidents Race winner.
In this race, the Veep produced a negative VORP.
After that, a 1-0 Nationals deficit became an 8-5 lead through the beautiful magic of a bunch of home runs. The only downside to the lead was that it meant that I would have to see Rafael “Hellspawn” Soriano with my bare eyes, an experience I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. Of course, since my worst enemy is Rafael Soriano, I guess I don’t have to.
Sulking after surrendering a home run is Rafael Soriano’s natural state.
The Nats’ three run lead was barely enough to contain the extent of Soriano’s voracious appetite for suck…this time. It is, of course, only a matter of time before he ruins one of my nights in person. Until then, I’m going to just try and live life to the fullest, savor every moment like it’s my last, and try to avoid thinking about the horrific fate that awaits me. Watching a Soriano blown save comes to us all – there’s no use fighting it.
