On Sunday night, I was planning to do the “watch both games at the same time” thing. It was my intention to write about how San Diego made Belli cheat and the Patriots look really really old. I had even planned to keep the Norv Turner insults to a minimum. That was before the buzzing started.
People always ask me, why the hell do you like baseball so much? They try to tell me how boring it is, how the players just stand around and do nothing, and while this may be true, baseball is one of the few sports that doesn’t run crying to the front office every three minutes to dole out punishment or police itself. No, the players and managers do that, mostly in the form of a 90+ mph fastball coming dangerously close to your head, or just flat out hitting you. That. Shit. Stings. I love it. Its kind of like they are saying to each other, “You got beef? Word? Take this fastball in your chest bitch!”Â Love indeed!
In the process of being outscored 6-1 in the first two innings, the Phillies were mad. Super mad. So mad they hit Russell Martin. Again. Really. Again. After throwing behind Manny’s head in game two. I guess it was supposed to be a distraction. Martin took his base, the half inning ended quietly enough, and then the Phillies came up to bat. This is where the fun started.
Hiroki Kuroda, who was pitching phenomenally by the way, got his grown man on, and sent a message. There it went. Buzz. Right over Shane Victorino’s head.Â Good thing he ducked, that thing would have ended his career. It clocked at 89. They got the message alright, and had the nerve to be mad about it. “Don’t throw at my head,” Victorino whined, sounding like Nellie Olson being forced to wear last year’s $5 dress. “I don’t care if you throw at my body, but don’t throw at my head.” I mean really. He had to know it was coming. You can’t dictate the level of appropriateness for an inappropriate situation. The message was loud and clear. We are so not afraid of you. Brush somebody else back if you’re feeling froggy.
The Phillies didn’t jump. After a bench clearing “meeting of the minds” when Victorino grounded out, the game continued without incident. Final score? 7-2. Hiroki Kuroda? Respect earned. Philadelphia? Meh. It’s probably safe to say that the buzzing isn’t over, and before this is all said and done, somebody is going to get smacked. I’ll be somewhere, beer in hand, cheering the loudest and laughing the hardest. Like the old commercials used to say “I Live For This!”
Like Terita’s take on sports? Tired of people assuming that women aren’t die hard sports fans? Or maybe you’re using this column to make sure your bf’s weekly sports obsession doesn’t completely put you to sleep and you can make conversation? Either way, read the rest of Terita’s sportie run down here.
image via the LA Times
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