little-known step six: functional alcoholismI think I went through the full Five Stages of Grief during last night's game.
Denial: Um, okay. Runners on first and third with nobody out. This isn't great, but Batshit can get out of it. All he needs is a well-placed pop-up and to induce a ground-out double play. I'm sure everything will be fine.
Anger: AND, ALSO, I MEAN, C'MON, LUGO, JUST ... C'MON! IF YOU HADN'T INSISTED ON BEING THE GRANITE CITY ELECTRIC RED SOX ULTIMATE RALLY KILLER WHEN WE HAD COCO ON SECOND AND NOBODY OUT TWO INNINGS AGO, MAYBE WE COULD AFFORD TO GIVE BACK A FEW MORE OF THESE RUNS.
Bargaining: I'll watch them get out of this inning. Then I'll watch to see how many they can get back in the next frame. If they can get two more runs off Weaver before they chase him out of the game, I'll keep watching.
Depression: I don't know, I mean, I guess this is just Tavarez ... regressing to the mean?
Acceptance: It's after one o'clock in the morning. They're most likely going to lose this game whether I keep watching or not. I'm going to bed.