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Smoke 'em if you got 'em, folks. We're calling on all the blessed saints and martyrs this evening, simply in order that we can see the dawn tomorrow. St. Penelope of the Cross, the Blessed Salma of Hayek, and the Very Reverend Milla Jovovich are all being invoked. Though since their boss appears to strongly favor the team we're facing, I'm not sure the entire pantheon will be sufficient tonight.
At the moment, it looks like we'll be going with Owings, and I can't argue with that. The problem has not been the pitching this series, it's the offense, and a credible bat in the pitcher's spot could be very helpful. Same goes with the news Cirillo will be replacing Ojeda at, er, second-base. We need more production than Ojeda can give us: though if Cirillo boots a ball, I am allowed to reverse my position entirely on this.
Remember, "A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step," as Lao-Tzu once said. And any historic comeback has to start with a win tonight. Focus on that, and we can then see what tomorrow brings. And if all else fails, we turn to the words of Dylan Thomas:
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
So, even if we can't win, a Peña fastball between Tulowitski's shoulder-blades will do. He can then at least teach Justin Upton the "right" way to take first-base. :-) Aroundness for me is uncertain: we have a concert at the Paper Heart tonight, but I'll be laptopping, all being well, so should be able to comment sporadically.