Lidge has greasy fingers. And when “grease is the word,” Madson’s the cure.
Mark my words.
But let’s look on the bright side. JA Happ-y dominated, while namesake, John Mayberry, Jr., made his major league debut and showed up the lineup as a designated hitter. He went 2-for-3 and tidied up the bases with a three-run homer.
And Raul Ibanez continued his trek to set the record as the coolest dude ever.
That said, I have to come clean. Today, I realized I’m Phillies obsessed.
I turned on WMGK radio and heard, “We’ll be right back with the Philly 500.” Instantly, I thought this had something to do with the Phil’s winning percentage this season. Then I found out it was a song countdown.
Then as I reminisced about the Fightin’s hot bats in the Yank’s series opener, I was reminded I need to buy another stick of Secret Solid for those steamy Sundays in section 145.
And as I was spraying my Lysol shower mist about, I recalled the article in the paper that quoted Charlie Manuel saying, “Jimmy (Rollins) has some slick to him.”
Slick? I’d like to see him slick, especially in that “Phillie of the Week” calendar. I’d even volunteer to spray on the oil.
And now that you’ve brought it up, I have some ideas for a centerfold. But we can’t shoot it until after I get my Jayson Werth blanket on July 24. That’s when I’ll have to slather on the Secret solid, because no matter the weather, I’ll be wrapped in Werth.
It’s pathetic.
But it’s the curse of a fan.
I’m so obsessed, everyone is suffering. My output as a mom has declined, and my husband says I don’t put out.
That always brings up that age old debate: how much sex should a wood chuck get? (If you have a problem with symbolism, I’m the wood chuck.)
I tell him it could be worse. The Pro Bull Riding tour only takes off two months during the whole year. If I was a fan of that…
Oh, wait. I am.
So you can sympathize with his pain but can you also appreciate my joy? Right now is the perfect time to be a Phil’s fan. They’re leading the division and have one more chance at the Yankees before the team comes home for a three-game series with the Marlins.
Put that way, some things are certain:
I’m as giddy as a groupie hiding in a Jonas Brothers’ bus.
I’m as high as a Harry Kalas cloud in the left field sky.
I’m as excited as an old married babe on Jayson Werth day.
Well, he doesn’t actually have his own day, but a girl can dream.
Now if they’d only give away a Jayson Werth thong, I’d be set. It’s the only way I’ll ever have the strapping outfielder comfortably hugging my hips.
I know some people don’t like thongs, but my husband does. He says it serves as a barrier between me and all those bugs crawling up my ass.
Now, aside from the blown save on Saturday, the Phil’s have been looking splendid, but I was trying to think of ways to make them look even better. Of course you’ll see most of my ideas splashing the pages of that proverbial calendar, but in the meantime I came up with a plan.
It’s in the stats. Batting averages are reported on a scale of a thousand while ERAs are reported on a scale of a hundred. I understand it’s because you want the hitting to seem higher, and the hits off the pitcher to seem lower, but what if we added some zeros to the figures.
What if we added zeros until a hitter’s batting average and a hurler’s ERA could be compared to his salary. Then we’d compare how he was performing with what he was earning. I like that.
Pitchers could be paid per pitch.
Hitters could be compensated per hit.
Raul would show up the national debt.
Well, Sunday’s another game. It’s ace against ace.
But since the Phil’s are finished for the night, I have some things to do.
First, I think I’ll kick off that age old debate...
See you at the ballpark.
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