Right now, John Lackey, we need you more than ever. With players dropping like flies day after day, you must transcend your human limitations and become something Godlike.
You are our last hope. Our Omega Man. Our Colonel George Taylor. So please, stop the skid. Stop the September bleeding. And remind us that this team is hell with its bats and its pitching arms.
Because honestly, if you crash and burn before the third inning, I will punch orphans.
That’s a promise.