Tuesday, July 6, 2010

So Roy Halladay Pitched Last Night (7.5.10 vs. Braves)

It was definitely the face-breakingest.

Immediately after completing the 93 PITCH COMPLETE GAME SKID-ENDING DOMINANT WIN OVER A DIVISION RIVAL WE TRAIL IN THE STANDINGS, Roy jumped into the stands, ran the stairs, ate some crab fries, went off to lift weights, set his DVR to record Diners, Drive Ins, and Dives, read three chapters of Daniel Deronda, called Ryan Lawrence to ask him if he enjoyed his (and to explain the concept behind a) day off, took 150 right-handed swings off a batting tee, ironed a shirt for Jimmy Rollins, confirmed Chase Utley's MRI, visualized his next encounter with Jay Bruce, built a compass, posted an Amazon review of season 2 of The Wire, threw some long toss, dissected the game film, watched a frog, and reviewed his abnormally brief pitch chart to find the one that didn't hit its target.

The Braves, meanwhile, were still in shock of performance by the time the press crews arrived. When asked if his prior day's foreshadow of lament had proven true, All-Star nobody Omar Infante reflected (citing his favoritest Bright Eyes song, which he stressed he knew the guitar chords to):

And language just happened, it was never planned
And it's inadequate to describe where I am

In the room of my house where the light's never been

Waiting for this day to end

Further asked to describe how he thought the game may impact the season, Infante noted,

And these clocks keep unwinding and completely ingore

Everything that we hate or adore

Once the page of a calendar is turned it's no more

So tell me, then, what was it for?
Oh tell me what as it for?

Yup, there you have it.

Game time temperature: ~114 degrees. Harry Leroy Halladay III: not sweating.


Q: State Senator Clay Davis, could Roy's face-breaking of the Braves last night be considered a prosecutable offense?



  1. Roy's review is the reason that I bought the Wire

  2. An enjoyable ass-whuppin' to behold. Also, I miss Clay Davis. Thanks for the sheeeeeet.

  3. I asked Frank Sobodka the same question, to which he simply furrowed his brow and stared off at nothing in particular with a look on his face like he was trying to fugure out the square root of the letter W.

    Then he yelled really loud.

  4. I asked for broken faces for my birthday and Roy delivered them forrealz.


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