First, our closer throws 98 MPH fastballs, collects two easy outs, fires up the crowd and then he loses the strike zone, never to regain it in any meaningful fashion.

Fucking Armando.

Then, our closer induces a pathetic little half-swing squib and, wouldn'tcha know it, that defensive excuse-me whoopsy! cut rolls less than 90 feet to exactly […]

The problem with a loss like this — and make no mistake, this was one of those “I got mauled by a grizzly bear and fell down a ravine and got disemboweled when I fell on a pointy rock and now cougars are uncoilng my guts and EATING them while I'm still alive” losses — […]