There are worse things than blowing a nine run lead to your most hated rivals and losing your fifth straight game on the weekend of the 100th anniversary celebration of your ballpark.
For example, getting kicked in the junk by a bear. Or an extended stay in a Mexican prison.
But, man, did yesterday’s loss have a sort of “death knell” tone to it. It’s only April — hell, in many ways, this season hasn’t even begun — yet it’s becoming increasingly difficult to find anything positive to hang your sweat-stained cap on at the end of each day.
After last night’s collapse mercifully ended, as his players ambled past him in the dugout, Bobby V looked like an Uncle who was just caught stealing money from his niece’s lemonade stand. A sort of gobsmacked, “we’re still cool, right, fellas?” look on his mug. I assume he knew it wouldn’t be all sunshine and roses, but I can’t imagine there’s not a small part of his brain wondering why he left the broadcast booth for this.
Hopefully, things will turn around soon. We’ve got Marlon Byrd coming to town (as part of a covert plan of revenge for his beaning at the hands of Aceves last season?), for what that’s worth. And Bard on the hill tonight. But I can’t think of a better time to be hitting the road to face Chicago, Minnesota and Oakland.