Whelp, it’s the rainy season in Macondo and the thunderstorms seem to have knocked out more than just a few utility pole transformers. The Feesh lineup has been about as menacing as an angry clam this week, as the team has limped to a 1-3 record against the Mutts and Feelies and failed to score three times in their last, what, six or seven games?
Last night Jeremy Hellickson and his boolpen practiced fillet and release against a resuscitated Jarred Cosart and scored orf Fernando Rodney as the Feesh’s originally inexplicable decision to trade one of their best prospects for a reliever headed for the nursing home continues to look worse and worse. The wimp wandsmen managed two measly hits. It was a snoozefest of Village of the Damned proportions.
The Feesh now sit at 53-46, in third place one percentage point behind the Mutts (but in the National League, a percentage point still good for a reinvigorating October hiking and feeshing trip to Saskatchewan).
Note: I know I promised my usual three part midseason Feesh analysis and plodnostication this week but a combination of a nice paying editorial gig from a university press which must remain nameless, and the likelihood that the Feesh will make some waiver deadline trades and/or scrapheap pickups before this weekend is out, made me think that maybe it’d be better to hold orf a bit and see if anything is shakin’ down here in the tropics.
That plus having just barely melatonined myself into sync with the circadian rhythms of my time zone after getting back from Germany last week, I now find meself packing for the loooong flight to London on Sunday and the first gay wedding da wife and I have ever attended – our beloved cousin Timothy and his longtime partner Christopher will be locking themselves into the stocks next week and I’m supposed to be one of the bridesmaids.