They're frauds.
This team of "professional winners" is down 3-1 to a team that is 2 for 31 with RISP.
That would be 2 for 31 with RISP. As in 2 for 31 with RISP. As in, as Jayson Stark said, one less clutch hit than they have victories in the series.
With Phil Garner as its manager.
If we'd been told a week ago those would be Houston's numbers after four games of the NLCS, there's not a person here who wouldn't have thought that we were already in the Series. But, of course, we're not. We're being beaten at our own game by an inferior opponent. Instead of finding ways to win, as we have all season, we're now finding ways to lose. They're playing Cardinal baseball; we're masquerading.
Surprise. It's the same old Cardinal postseason story: Hitters inexplicably assume the fetal position and foul yet another splendid season.
In other words, same thing as last year, only one series earlier. Same thing as the past 20 years, actually. No excuses. No what-ifs. No crying about the breaks or the umpires or that jackass ballpark. At do-or-die time, they once again "don't."
Frauds. Fuck 'em.
This team of "professional winners" is down 3-1 to a team that is 2 for 31 with RISP.
That would be 2 for 31 with RISP. As in 2 for 31 with RISP. As in, as Jayson Stark said, one less clutch hit than they have victories in the series.
With Phil Garner as its manager.
If we'd been told a week ago those would be Houston's numbers after four games of the NLCS, there's not a person here who wouldn't have thought that we were already in the Series. But, of course, we're not. We're being beaten at our own game by an inferior opponent. Instead of finding ways to win, as we have all season, we're now finding ways to lose. They're playing Cardinal baseball; we're masquerading.
Surprise. It's the same old Cardinal postseason story: Hitters inexplicably assume the fetal position and foul yet another splendid season.
In other words, same thing as last year, only one series earlier. Same thing as the past 20 years, actually. No excuses. No what-ifs. No crying about the breaks or the umpires or that jackass ballpark. At do-or-die time, they once again "don't."
Frauds. Fuck 'em.
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