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A few days ago, I foolishly wrote that I was looking forward
to when my team cooled down so I could stop worrying about when it would
happen.  The fantasy gods, who always
ignore my pleas to stop injuring my players or to keep my closers from
appearing in “non-save” situations where their success rate is lower than your
average comic book villain’s, were suddenly all too eager to grant my request.

 

For weeks now, my lineup has been fully raking, putting up
massive numbers.  They’ve been like a
shark riding an elephant, trouncing and eating everything they saw.  Then I had to open my big mouth and all of a
sudden I’m getting swept in all hitting categories at the halfway point of this
week’s match up. 

 

If I was to rank who was to blame, I’d go with:

 

1.  me

2. – 73.  Adrian
Beltre

74.  The Seattle
batboy for continuing to hand Beltre a whiffle ball bat each time he’s heading
to the plate

75.  The Seattle
police department for not realizing Beltre disappeared weeks ago under
mysterious circumstances

76.  All Major League pitchers from 2004 who allowed Beltre to think he could hit every pitch out of
the park thus causing him to swing so hard, you’d think he was auditioning for
a Bugs Bunny cartoon

77.  me again, for
drafting Adrian Beltre

 

At least I get my wish now and can watch the games this
weekend without worrying about the imminent arrival of my team’s inevitable
decline.  They’ve come back to earth and
now I get to root for them to pull it together and make a last second comeback,
which is actually more fun than being on the other side.  I’m looking forward to it.