Baseball is often like the stars in the sky last night: cold, remote, and indifferent. Or like life.
I did see the stars some last night but was on the phone with an editor for much of yesterday's game, though I did hear the first three innings on radio. They let me know all I had to know. Cole Hamels deserved a better fate but the offense was dormant. The Phillies have long had Matt Cain's number but not yesterday.
It was in the end exactly the kind of San Francisco game that made me grit my teeth in that ballpark again and again. How many times have I sat there and watched the Phillies play as if they are under water? It's odd. All of the West Coast parks are so-called pitcher's parks but the Phillies have no trouble in San Diego or Los Angeles. San Francisco, though, is a bog for them. It's why I have had a fatalistic feeling about this series from the start.
The chances of Joe Blanton having a good game tonight are somewhat remote. I'm not dissing Joe. I think he should start. But he hasn't started a game since September 29. He says himself that he does better the more he throws. Oi vey. In the end it doesn't matter, though, if the Phillies do not hit. They are once again in one of the frustrating slumps that have typified this year. However did they manage to overcome the injuries and slumps to have the best record in the game?
