Good morning, sunshine. Beautiful morning down there at the shore, isn't it? You managed to pick up the breakfast sandwiches without hearing anyone talking in passing about last night's game; it is pretty early. You didn't even see the Inquirer. That's okay, though, because now you're settled in on the front deck with your pork roll, egg & cheese and cup of coffee. And I've got the news for you:
ROY HALLADAY WAS ROY **MOTHERDUCKING** HALLADAY LAST NIGHT!!!!1
Yes, it was beautiful. Roy dissecting fools, painting corners, and straight breaking faces. CLINICAL. He is, after all, Doc. (Sorry about that- it was awful but I'm leaving it in case some lazy, vanilla twelvity billion dollar national media entity finds it endearing and wants to buy the bolg because it thinks me clever. Don't judge, cherries are expensive.)
"WAIT WHAT JUST TELL ME THE LINE I NEED TO KNOW I NEED TO KNOW TELL ME ZEE DUB ARRRRRRR CUS I NEED TO KNOOOOWWWW!"
I smiled. Here you go: 7 IP, 3 H, 1 BB (ump was being a butt), 5 K (1C, 4SC), W. Roy also delivered via video a pep talk to the US Olympic swimming team that led directly to Michael Phelps winning his 18th gold medal and the women setting a new world record in the medley relay.
Speaking of hard work and dedication, I see you're about to attack that half a sandwich the boy didn't want. Get some, baby. You need fuel for bodysurfing later. BEACH BOD.