“Let's go Braves!”
Whoa. No, that feels weird. Oh man, are the TBS guys showing something about their trillion consecutive division titles? If I weren't running on the treadmill with headphones on I could hear them…. Oh, who needs to hear them? I'm sure it's something about how Bobby Cox's touch cures measles, scabies and cataracts, turns dead spots in the lawn green, is worth a full year of Baby Einstein tapes to newborns and transforms water into Gatorade. Yeah, that and $2 million will get you like 77 wins.
Naw. That feels wrong too. What are they doing now? What standings are those? Why the hell aren't we on top of them? Ohhh, it's the wild-card standings. Man is it nice to only take a scholarly interest in those. There's Atlanta down at the bottom. Seven back. Yeah right. Stick a tomahawk in 'em.
“Whoh-oh-ohhhh-wh — ”
Um. Absolutely not.
“Braves! Braves! Braves!”
Yeesh. Oh, look, it's all their pennants panning by. Wow, last year this sight would have filled me with rage while Braden Looper was blowing the same game twice. Even back in May it would have left me swearing and snarling. Now…my God, it's actually relaxing. I'm thinking about champagne. Will Billy jump in Lo Duca's arms? Will it be a blowout that ends with Darren Oliver putting his arms up calmly but proudly? Will Pedro pump a fist after also pitching the first no-hitter in Met history? Will Willie smile? Will he actually grin? Which Met will be the most insane in the celebration? What will the new guys who had nothing to do with it like Ledee and Humber do? Will I feel sorry for Nady? Will I scream? Will it get a little dusty in the room? Wait a minute, that's for another night. Back to business….
“At-a-lan-ta!” [CLAP, CLAP, CLAP CLAP CLAP!]
Ack. No, I hate the dolphin clap in all situations. It can make a platoon of Navy SEALS sound like a bunch of junior-high cheerleaders. Hey, Francoeur got a hit. That's something. Looks like it's too late for my chosen script of Francoeur leading Atlanta to victory as his three grand slams outweigh Ryan Howard's two grannies and three solo shots. Besides, that's mixing real baseball with fantasy baseball, and the baseball gods don't like that. Still, there's Frenchy and his sub-.300 OBP on first. If I could only find a decent cheer….
“Go, Braves, go! Go, Braves, go!”
Ugh. Man, this is a pretty decent crowd for Atlanta — it's like 1/4 full. Twice this and you'd think it was the playoffs, hee hee. Playoffs! Atlanta! Ho ho ho! OK, a hit for Diaz. There we go. Fuckin' Braves…hey, that's it!
“LET'S GO, YA FUCKEN BRAVES! C'MON ATLANTA — YOU FUCKS! WHOA-OH-OHHHH, ASSMUNCH LOSERS!”
Ahhh. Better. And looky there! That one's gone! I temporarily love you….ummmm….Martin Prado!