Mommy make it stop

~~~

Well let me tell you something that isn't a lie now, sporto. That game 3 up in Philly, why, that one hurt, if you follow. Palpable, chief. To be up by five runs and having those boys on the run with no way clear through the infield except maybe one direct flight to the left field seats, why that'll take you to a mighty fine place there, sparky. You'll be drifting ever higher on the wings of a blimp. But once you get there, you better grab hold something in a locked and fixed position and put some couch cushions in your drawers, let me just say, because boy oh boy the drop down to where we landed in the sixth inning, why, that's longer than a bad movie when your left foot is stuck in someone else's soda spillings, my tribble. To watch eight sets of red pinstripes stroll to first base, one after another with no reprieve, well I'd rather get my arm run over, if I had my druthers. Move on, I think. Mightswell just better not to dwell and do the boot straps thing and brush the dust and what have you, cochise. Don't lets let it go to the dogs. Dang my head hurts though, but you can't dwell when the boys are already moved on to the town of Saint Louie. That last chicken may still be running around the backyard shooting blood out its neckhole, which is disquieting especially to the ladyfolk, but the fact is there's a whole new set of red roosters running around tonight. At 8:15 EST, we'll get the hatchet back out and commence to swinging, Jackson.

Washington
5 0 0 1 0 0 0 1 0 0 7 14 0
Philadelphia
0 0 1 0 0 6 0 0 0 1 8 16 4


Roll the Ugliness




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