I'm not about to get into what last night's start could have been. I mean, at some point you could have been an astronaut, but we all know how that turned out (well, except for this donkey) don't we? Last night was a night for the good guy. The one who kept swinging (not at the plate he stinks there but whatevs). The one who could have hid behind surgery, but didn't. The one who stood out there front and center while everyone spoke of what he used to be and never would be again, as if his outings to end this season were charity. Charity. To the guy who back when-- when the notion would have been laughable-- asked for less just to wear the red pinstripes, and never turned down the chance to battle for them.
|Ron Cortes, Philly.com|
The dynamic recent Halladay starts has taken is staggering, and I can't really reconcile it. But last night, as soon as I had recognized the taste of the piece of madeleine soaked in her decoction of lime-blossom...
"Nailed it bro I think good job and everything but what was the line ZWR I need to know I need to know tall me Zeeee Dubbbb Arrrrrr cause I need to know"
Well okay then, you'll like this: 6 IP, 4 H, 1 ER, 2 K (1C/1SC), WIN
... the whole of Combray and its surroundings, taking shape and solidity, sprang into being.