A weblog covering the San Diego Padres.

Thursday, August 19, 2004

Oh Boy. Oh no. No.

Tuesday night made being a Padre fan fun again. We were dealt walk after walk after walk, got some clutch hitting, namely a couple of long shots by the Emergency Catcher and Big Brother Giles, and put the Braves to bed early with no dinner and no dessert. Jake then did them in prison style and sent them home with an airplane baggy and a migrane.

Unfortunately, we had to play that rubber match. The kind that makes you feel like your buddy jumped off the back of the couch, top rope style on to your chest after he had too many jaeger shots. This was one of those nights, fall behind, the Lorettall-Star decides he has had enough and starts intentionally trying to injure fans in the outfield, calling it a souvenier. Followed by Bigger Giles doing the same. The lead is ours. Wellsy gets back to work. Pitching out of a couple tough spots, getting squeezed, having a mild Chernobyl style meltdown and then getting out of a sacks full of Mildly Braves by having blue give "the" J.D. Drew a lecture about the number three before banishing him to the bench.

Cue AC/DC and let's go home, heh. Hoff misses with a couple fast balls and falls behind. Location is off tonight, it's o.k. , he'll make up for it. Guy reaches first. It's o.k., Andruw Jones is up. Camera two clips to Smoltz in the cow pasture stretching out his rock chucker. Hey, somebody get the Braves bench on the line and let them know that the Padres are up one and Trevor Hoffmann is on the mou... oh boy. Oh no. No.

Hey Blue, Trevor is going to need another baseball because Andruw Jones just lost the one we were using. 6 to 5 Mildly Braves.

Let's just go quick don't make this painful, let's just go quick. One quick out, then two. All-Star holds up swinging at ball four with Bigger Giles coming up. The announcers are talking about how Smoltz says he has no idea what to throw B.G. That's not the right one Smoltz, cause he just took you for a spin around the corner near Petco Porch, All-Star is on his race horse and he will tie this game. It's about then when "the" J.D. Drew, finds the potato, it's hot so he fires it to little giles, it's still a little too warm for his liking so he gives it to Eddie Perez who mashes it and headbutts All-Star probably busting his nose. Oh boy. Oh no. No.

You know that feeling when you see a guy fall down, and when he lands on his can, his head whiplashes into the ground so hard that it makes your stomach hurt?

I don't know who hates me more, the baseball gods, or my team.


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