Cheers.

Mr. Kimbrel is currently melting into a puddle of goo on the mound but it doesn't really matter, the Boston Red Sox have won the AL East. Who would have guessed that in the spring? Not me.

Here's a Thought.

New York does you a solid and you go and turn your nose up at it like, "We don't want to win the division and you can't make us. In fact, we can lose all by ourselves. Just watch."

Maybe you should bring the Oakland A's on tour with you, like your own Washington Generals. (Though not the ones from last night or the A's that are playing today.) You could go to all the cities your supposed to go to but instead of playing poorly against the home team, just sneak the A's into their uniforms.

Stupid Baseball.

I won't call it nostalgia but there's a certain sweetness (innocence, maybe) to National League baseball. "Awww. He's a pitcher and he's got a bad in his hand. Isn't that cute?"

But then your team needs a hit and the pitcher is coming up to bat and it's not so cute anymore.

Dumb people will claim that that's where strategy comes into the game. Hey, dumb people! What strategy? Will it be the exciting question of, Will he bunt? Yes, yes he will and in all likelihood, it will not help. Will they pinch hit? Oooh. Thrilling. There's no mystery there.

And then you've got the lovely phenomenon of pitchers switching leagues from the AL to the NL and having their career revived, as in the case of one Mr. Jake Peavy. (He can insist that it wasn't switching back to the NL that fixed him but it doesn't make it true.) Or our very own Mr. Pomeranz, who is a serviceable, maybe even a very good pitcher in the NL, but not so good when he has to face actual hitters.

Or it could just be that this team isn't very good. They are being shut out by Edwin Jackson.

Tough Luck Eddie.

Yes, this particular version of the Oakland Athletics are not world beaters (and that should be taken into account) but it's still a shame because Eduardo was pitching so well. It's too bad his offense decided to take the afternoon off. And then, of course, there's dear old Craig.

Not that you can really complain all that much.