There’s no nice way to take these things: If the Phillies had suffered/earned/deserved their 10,000th loss yesterday on the road, for instance, we would have spared an entire 4-generation party pack the indignity and trauma of witnessing such a feat. Because there’s no denying — this is going to have an effect on us, as a people, for years and in ways which we cannot yet fathom. But on the other hand, did we need to see it? So that we can move on? We cannot say. We worry about the children a little. But you don’t choose fate, Philadelphia, fate (and sometimes, apparently, sucking) chooses you. Is it nature or nurture, this losing? You know what? Don’t answer that, we don’t fucking care, we’re sick of it. Let us all raise our coffees, people, and toast the end of the 10,000 run-up, and bid it well like a relative we cannot unload soon enough. To the good people of Philadelphia: We are better than this. This shit is not your/our fault. (Bill Giles excluded, but we hear he’s a Phawker man anyway.) The Phils we have today are the kookiest team in baseball, and the future is ours. To the local media: Sorry, but your summer milkbeast is gone. (We love you, DMac, but every time you did one of these, we felt like we should have gotten paid to read it.) To the rest of Baseball: Sleep with one eye open, motherfuckers, because we now officially have something to prove. We may not take it to October, but that doesn’t mean we still can’t fuck up your third act. And to the Phils, the Phightin’ Phils: We love you still. We’ll never stop. See that logo up top we put up on opening day? We meant it. And you know what? You guys — The 10,000 Club — just became something better than heroes: Antiheroes. And if that’s not a wave to ride, we don’t know what is.
Previously: Chase Utley, King Of The White Girls

This entry was posted on Monday, July 16th, 2007 at 6:37 am.