Sigh.

This team is a disaster. Not much else to say beyond that, really. Awful. Disappointing. Listless. Sloppy. Unskilled. Lousy. Clumsy. Inattentive. Frustrating. Those are other options but disaster is the most fitting.

Blooper Ballet.

One thing that you can say about Clay is when he lays an egg, it really is a stinker. He's not giving up four or five over six and leaving you thinking that they were one good rally away, or that his defense could have helped him out. Nope. When Clay sucks, Clay sucks loudly and definitively.

One Foot in Front of the Other.

This is how we run. You might be dripping with sweat. Your lungs might be on fire. Your quads might be screaming at you, refusing to go any further. You might be puking on the side of the road. You might feel your sock filling with blood. Your skin might be chafed and raw. You might have pushed yourself so hard that you can longer walk upright. But you keep going.

There's a life lesson in there. Life puts obstacles in your way but you keep going. Lunatics try to break your heart and your spirit but you persevere. Left. Right. Repeat. At first it gets you through an hour, then a day, and then you look up and a year has gone by.

Lastly, I wanted to draw your attention to the Boston Marathon World Run to raise money for the One Fund.

Curtains.

Well, my darlings. That's one way to spoil a party.

I think you'd have to go back to September of '12 to find a time this team was so utterly dominated by an opponent. It was like Milwaukee *Gold star for me--I spelled it right on the first try* came in knowing what game they were going to play and Boston could never catch up. And Daniel Nava's pixie dust might have worn off (or the strike zone was just too bizarre for words). But generally not fun boys.

Side Note: David Hyde Pierce's Boston accent is weirdly shaky. Sometimes it's pretty good, sometimes not so much, and sometimes he sounds like Niles.