I hate West Coast swings. Stewart O'Nan, who co-wrote "Faithful" about last year's Red Sox, wrote proudly of staying up until 2 AM on work nights to watch the Old Town Team play Anaheim, Oakland and Seattle. It ain't happening here. I need about 10 hours sleep a night and usually only get seven or eight, and I'm not about to reduce that to 3 or 4 for the sake of this pissant blog. Maybe if Stephen King was co-writing and I had a big advance in my pocket, but that ain't happening either. As it was, the Phils scratched out three hits against the immortal Gil Meche and lost 3-1. Meanwhile, Those F*cking Nationals (trademark pending) won in Anaheim to extend their division lead to two games.
Randy Wolf is headed to Tommy John Country. Maybe he can borrow one of Octavio Dotel's "exceptionally long leg tendons". Both guys are on my Strat team, so you'd think one would help the other. Jeesh. Just when it looked like everything was sunny, a tornado rips off the roof.
The Padilla Flotilla sails tonight against former Red Sock Aaron Sele. Those F*cking Nationals have Rangers' castoff Ryan Drese facing Angels ace Bartolo Colon, so if we can get the bats going again, maybe we can get back to within a game.
My take on the J-Roll signing: Whatever. There isn't anything better in the Phillies price range at shortstop, and as others have noted, Jimmy appears to be at least consistently mediocre at the plate, and pretty good defensively, making the signing very low risk. Unless the Phils have designs on breaking the bank for a Tejada or a Jeter or (I just heard Dave Montgomery's aorta constrict all the way from here) an A-Rod, which is about as likely as J-Roll achieving a .900 OPS, they might as well lock him up. $8 million a year is chump change for a franchise swimming in Citizens Bank Park cash.
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