It’s maddening for you, I’m sure. You prepare yourself for an afternoon or evening of Phillies baseball, acquiring the necessary beef provisions and canned hops, and tap your finger on the bird that delivers the world for the night’s lineup. The horror. The meat falls to the grass. The beer spills on your tennis shoes. You scream at the wind because, once again, Gabe Kapler has ruined your expectations.
Kingery 6
Crawford 5Oh, what blind fool steers this hellbent ship into the thunderclouds? Why can’t he see the ball ricocheting off the shoe, or the pop fly lost in the sunshine, or the dart that splits wide right and pierces the eye of an innocent bystander?