I think someone needs to point out to the White Sox that games really are only supposed to last 9 innings (and, that 8 and a half is perfectly acceptable when you’re playing at home).
If they’re going to keep doing this – and if I’m going to survive the rest of the season – I’m going to need to arm myself with the essentials: valium, rolaids, red wine, and the television remote.
The game’s not over yet, but with the A’s having a 3 run lead in the top of the 10th, I’m going to hold out on hoping for that miracle this afternoon. Hopefully a day off to clear everyone’s heads (And, also, taking time to remember that just randomly throwing different pitchers at the batting line-up and hoping one will stick probably isn’t going to be an effective long-term survival strategy.) will be just what the doctor ordered.
At least, I certainly hope so.
Watching the Dandelions Grow 