I need a losing streak like I need a swift kick to the Nevin. I get that the baseball gods enjoy their little games. They watch us from their big screen TV in the sky, eating their fancy tableside guac and drinking their ale made from angel's tears, and I picture them nearly busting their godly sides laughing at the Mariner fan, as he/she suffers through this final month being desperate to end this f**king streak. But what happened this weekend, Diary, was more than godly goofballing, it was downright cruel.
3 straight losses to the Angels? (yah, who were gods rooting for there?)
Injuries to Suarez AND Julio?
Luis Rengifo playing like some sawed-off, switch-hitting Barry Bonds against us? Only us? (304/455/681/1014 against the M's, 275/307/455/761 overall).
I mean, that's Disney stuff.
Meanwhile, all-star Ty France seems to make 2 outs per at bat these days.
Let's balance some of this good and evil stuff out & balance it out soon, gods.
I get it, gods. If it's an easy run to the playoffs, it won't mean as much. The journey is better than the destination. Blah, Blah, Blah. Save it, nerds. The Mariner fan has lived through and learned enough philosophical lessons about patience through the years. No one's asking you to help the cause, gods, but don't get in the way. Fair?
And yet, despite it all, the Mariners only lost a game during this crummy baseball weekend. Still, Diary, we don't need to let this thing get any more interesting than it already is. Baltimore is getting ready to face lowly Detroit for three. Get us to Thursday up 4 (or more) with 14 to play, and I'll sleep a little easier, I'll write you a little more often, I'll do better about calling home to Mom, I'll eat more vegetables, and I'll stop using the word f**k in my web posts.
Talk to you soon, Diary.