Hey! We're sexy and 17!
A puzzle for bloggers and beat writers alike: What do you say about a 10-5 demolition [1] of the Rockies? Do you praise the continuing firepower of MVP In Waiting Carlos Beltran and resident whirlwind Jose Reyes? Wax hopeful about a good night for David Wright, one that didn't even need a conference of umpires? Marvel about another night in which Steve Trachsel trudged through raindrops, dumped a couple of buckets over his own head and still somehow emerged dry?
Maybe. Another tack would be to look at the Rockies and shake your head at the Peanuts-style pratfalls they staged all over the outfield. It's quite an accomplishment to play two balls into two-run triples with foolhardy dives, but Brad Hawpe managed it. After the second one, I would have been the least surprised to find poor Hawpe lying undressed in the outfield, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth and whirly lines above his head. (Maybe Snoopy would bring the ball back to Peppermint Patty in his teeth.) And what's with the Rockies' bullpen? It's a little disconcerting to have to peer through trees to see who's warming up. What if they turn the cameras that way just in time to see Manny Corpas get mauled by a cougar?
Ah well. You know what you do when 10-5 drubbings start seeming pedestrian, when magic numbers descending seems like a natural right, when the next month's suspense concerns dates for clinching? You enjoy it. You enjoy every last dribbler through the middle, every pitch that nicks the outside corner, every it put in the books, every giddy grin on Jose Reyes' face.
And you count down the magic numbers.