The Gist, Game 47

10:45 PM | Comments (0) | by Chaim Witz

Gone Huntin' 5, 1908 World Champs 3

Things started out promising enough. Three runs in the first inning, courtesy of a Lee donkey punch and a RBI double from our Italian catcher. Plus, c'mon, Shawn Chacon was on the mound for the other team.

Unfortunately, from there things spiraled out of control. We only managed two more hits after the first inning and our pitcher (and Oasis singer) Liam Gallagher got abused like the box of tissue next to Tommy Buzanis' waterbed.

Our bullpen did a good job. Scott Eyre looks like he gained all the weight that Liam Gallagher lost. Oh, and here's something to vent about. Why was Jimmy Ballgame Edmonds and his batting average which rivals my blood-alcohol level batting 7th, ahead of the red hot Mark DeRosa? To crib a internet abbreviation that all the kids are using, WTF?

We managed to stifle Lance-in-the-pants Berkman but still drop two of three. Good riddance to that claptrap of a ballpark in Houston. All of the other NL Central ballparks have their charms, but that thing is an offense against decency and good taste. Almost makes you pine for the Astrodome. Take the architect outside and give him 10 solid lashings.

Onward to the Steel City. Nothing like a series against the hapless Buccos to get back on track. PNC. Now that's a ballpark.

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