Humbly pointing up to the sky after serving up an absolute moonshot of a walk-off home run. My role as closer is very obviously in jeopardy but I refuse to gainsay the judgment of my lord, who sustains me even when I am lobbing helicopter sliders into the kill zone in high leverage situations.
Schwarber tonight at Fenway went HR, K, HR, K. "Father, Son and something else", I recite as his categorical denial of the third true outcome yields the death of trinitarianism
The funniest story about this for me (an Astros fan) is Brad Ausmus on the plane to STL, got on the PA and said, "If you look out the left side of the aircraft you will see the ball Pujols hit."
I listened to Jim Rome on the radio the next day (against my will, I was on a painting crew and didn’t have control over the radio) and Jim spent a good 30 minutes straight talking about that homer.
i scribble cryptically in the dirt behind the mound and do an elaborate series of unclear gestures as the boys in the booth play me into the dugout with my custom Exit Sandman remix, another job not particularly well done
