(weeps quietly)

I'm wearing this thread inside out.

Got it in you, Lucille II?

These are the brightest of all possible words.

By my count, that was actually the second hit with RISP today.

that's so funny.

My real personality was lost sometime during the middle of 1995.

I've got one on top of my hat. Believe me, I'm getting some funny looks around the office here.

calm down steiner

Slumps are such a bummer.

http://tinyurl.com/2zml34

The guy's having a career year at 37. After never posting an OPS above .807 before last season, he put up .825 and is over .870 this year, with a slugging percentage far above anything he's posted in his career.

Just noting...

Bob tried to get a job as a Gameday stringer and was turned down because he's a Dodgers fan.

Let's dig up those Tim Leary/Darren Dreifort box scores.

I like it!

Only a madman can lead the blue to the play offs!

Voila!

Playing in Cincinnati is the equivalent to using PEDs.

Man, I'd love to see Saito's smile today. Sad, that I'd almost rather see that than see my g/f's smile today.

I mean, just because guys aren't knocking 73 out of the park doesn't mean they can't be using some form of 'help' to stay in the game...

Just ask Guillermo Mota.

The umpires.

I suppose it's just been shortened to Lucille nowadays.

Ah, ok. Thanks.

I'm telling you, Cincinnati is a ridiculous park. Look at Alex Gonzalez's SLG this year compared to his previous seasons (75 points above his career).

You're done, Dunn.

Then the 80s, disco and the Berlin Wall inspired hope when they disappeared into the rear view mirror of history. So did an unlikely ball slugged by ailing Kurt Harold Gibson into the right field Pavillion. Gosh, what a rush!

Bill and Hillie made the 90s both gloriously prosperous and deliciously salacious. Y2K launched a new millennium and the world didn't melt down. Even as bad as it was that George II, the Bumbling Boob, stole the election from "Mr. Right-but-Bland, You-Can-Call-Me-Al," all was not completely bleak. Upward and onward, each season I could always believe in bright Blue tomorrows. The baseball gods and me ate Dodger Dogs side by side in the nirvana of the Top Deck. Forget Iowa. Dodger Stadium was the real Field of Dreams. It was almost always true.

Then last night it happened. An ancient nightmare was reborn. A long dead "oh-fer" arose, stumbling clumsily from the offal of an awful grave, intoned in a vacuous voice, "Let old ghosts Ebbets n' flow . . ." Not since Fall 1966 had the Dodgers ever been shut out for three consecutive games. That was simply unthinkable ancient history, the impossible return of "dem Bums."

But as Vinnie said in 1988, "the impossible just happened."

Sunday's shutout by Brandon Webb capped Snaketown's sweep with chants of "Beat L.A.!" It was humiliation enough. After the game, Manager Grady Little no doubt closed the locker room door and spilled his spleen to the Boys in Blue. "Time to go get well, boys. Time to go beat up on the ghost of the Big Red Machine. Why? Because they're easy! Everyone does it. That Webbie Oh-fer Wonder? A hiccup of history, a comedy of errors, as unlikely as double snake-eyed goose eggs." Little was a veritable Knute in Blue.

Then, to the astonishment of everyone, the impossible happened — again. Cincy hadn't beaten the Dodgers in, like, forever. But Monday, the Red Guys vaulted from the field and broke out the bubbly, which in their case, wasn't champagne but over-ripe beer. It was their dismal season's Greatest Hoorah. Go ahead, Cincy, hoot! Howl! Bay at the Blue Moon! Even cellar dwellers deserve an occasional glimpse at the Sunshine of Victory.

Finally Monday passed and Tuesday dawned with a reality check at the stadium gates. Cincy stumbled back into the Great American Ball Park, bleary-eyed and hung-over from their victory binge. Monday had been glorious -- but a fluke. Everyone knew it. I'm guessing even Pete Rose was betting against 'em Tuesday night.

But when the fireworks finally faded in the Cincy sky last night, it was the Dodgers who hobbled off into the fetid darkness of having strung together a stellar showing of four measily hits — and, in the past 28 innings, no runs. The Triple Ignominy was complete. Bad things do come in Threes. Frankenstein has a new face -- Dem Bums are reborn.

From 1966 to last night -- I have lived toooooooo long.

Blue-Hoo-Hoo

Some of these calls today and yesterday are horrendous on both sides.

Its taking the fairness out of a competitive sporting event.

154 ...lives up to his handle.

Beat me to it.

I'm not sure I agree that's "consistent".

Though if you're looking for an outlier, check out 2004 - Great American was 28th in park factor for runs!

http://www.questec.com/q2001/prod_uis.htm

Begging for a wild pitch. It's come to that.

201 - The Reds needed a balk and got theirs. It's all part of my writ.

But our favorite player is up.

A nice 2 innings there.

Thanks Raffy.

Dave Roberts might be injured after a dustup at the plate.

Oh.

Yay!

Still gotta play the bottom of the inning, Charlie...

Missed it. I'll take your word for it. But I'm skeptical.

We want to see that smile, buddy.

Sorry I know that's lame, but I feel like a kid on Christmas Eve right now about to open the present I've waited all year for.

Nobody got me any.

Ah, I'd almost forgotten what that feels like. Runs and a win, both.

Stone him!

uh, oh. do you think it's me?

As long as Delwyn Young just went down with a cramp, a nice team win for the boys.

Sorry. Had a phone call.

He had a really nice game today, too.