Bottom of the eighth inning. This team is hopeless.
I’m giving up on them scoring a run. Not just in this inning. Not just in this game. Ever again.
The Dodgers have already hit two balls to the warning track in this game. They’ve already exceeded expectations. They’ve got nothing.
The opposing pitcher’s name is Kameron Loe. Kameron with a K. Need I say more? There’s no chance.
Jamey Carroll steps up. An old man playing over his head. Living on borrowed time. Time to repay the debt.
Carroll fouls two pitches off his feet. That’s our idea of consistency.
The next pitch tails away from him, and he pokes it slowly to the second baseman. Slowly, yet Carroll is even slower to first base.
Aaron Miles is up – holy cow, we’re back to relying on Aaron Miles. Miles hits the ball a mile – if your map is on a scale of 1 inch: 7.3 feet. The comebacker easily retires him.
Retired superhero Andre Ethier is the third batter. Bad elbow, luck gone, ready to disappear off the batting leaders any day now. A nation turns its lonely eyes to his hitting streak.
Ethier takes the first pitch the other way – grounding it right to the third baseman.
Nine pitches, three outs. Rancid browbeating didn’t work either.