As someone who's convinced he can be a curse to the game zone, I stayed out tonight, staying close to my ailing labradour. After Lamb's bomb, I turned to my son and drunkly said, "This one's going 14." I'm freaky like that, sorta like that vagabond in the Dreyfus/Goodman/Hunter movie back in the late 80's or early 90's.
How friggin' sweet to see JJ get the game winning rbi, given our concerns that he was supposed to have come here with a bat but had never displayed he knew what one was?
Given the hangover I'll have in the morning, I can't WAIT to call into the dorks of the morning and tell them to bite any convenient area within range of their belts.