The day that Tyler Clippard stomped on my heart.

Last Sunday's game started great. I had a good BBQ sandwich at the Red Loft, accompanied by a Dogfish Head Raison D'Etre to wash it down with. (What?? Are you calling me a beer snob? It was the same price as everything else! Let's see, should I take the Miller Lite for $8 or the delicious mahogany Belgian-style brown ale brewed with beet sugar, raisins, and Belgian-style yeas... okay, okay. You got me. I do love me some Dogfish Head, but it was the exact same $8, folks. It's a no brainer.) We then wandered around a bit, and even ran into Ben Goessling from MASN. I took that time to look like an idiot by screaming, "Hey, Ben! Embrace the shark!" while holding my hand on my head like a dorsal fin. To Ben's credit, he didn't ask to have me removed from the premises. Instead, he just shook his head and said, "I just don't understand where it comes from."* I guess it's gonna take Roger Bernadina going up to him during locker room interviews and biting a chunk out of his torso to get him on board. Let's see if we can get this done folks. (I'm assuming Tyler and Terry over at the official Sharkadina blog can maybe take the place of Roger, since he's in Syracuse? Someone get them on the horn stat, and make it happen. Just be prepared to supply Goessling's blood type to the EMTs.)
We (myself, my wife, my daughter, and my friend) then settled down in our usual seats to watch a great game. And what a great game it was. Well, except for this part... This was not great.

Tyler, Tyler, Tyler. You've taken the hearts from all us "Peaches" fans and stomped on them. You ripped them from our chests, crystallized them, and shattered them into millions of itty-bitty pieces with a Daniel-Son style crane kick. The millions, hundreds, tens of us "Peaches" fans will not relinquish our pursuit of getting you to change your music back, though! Did you think we'd forget about January, Tyler? Did you forget about January, Tyler? Well then, allow me to refresh your memory. Back then, Drew Storen linked to a poll that allowed fans to vote on your walk-up (Walk-out? Warm-up? Entrance?) music. It gave us two choices... your (then) current "Peaches" and your (now) current "Ready or something something blah blah." This is how the vote ended, sir.

(Excuse me while I channel my inner Walter Sobchak for a second...)

Has the whole world gone crazy? Am I the only one around here who gives a shit about the rules?!  

Sigh. I guess Tyler doesn't, as 62% of folks voted to keep "Peaches." If anyone would like to join me on Sunday, May 15th, I'll be hurling fully loaded peach baskets into the bullpen towards Clipp. Please bring copious amounts of alcohol, money, and Kleenex. I'll need them to work up the courage, bail myself out of jail, and sop up my tears as I'm being dragged handcuffed from the stadium crying out, "Why, Tyler! Why?!?! Peaches was our jam, man!!! I thought we had a connection!"

Other than that one teeny incident (that I'm obviously not dwelling on, nor obsessed with), the game was grand. We saw a great pitching performance from ZNN and the bullpen that ended in a curly W. I also got to see Drew Storen's fur face in person, and witnessed Todd Coffey performing the shoe-shine Sunday routine. Allow me to rip-off Natsgrl1's line here by saying, "I'm surprised he can bend over that far." 


Now, onto Philly for a three game set. Wish the boys well. We certainly don't want them coming out of the series with any nasty diseases those Philly fans carry. (Oh, wins would be welcomed, too, of course, but I'm just hoping no players lose their goddamn life to the bubonic plague that's known to circulate CBP.)

* At least I think that's what Ben says. His hair is absolutely mesmerizing in person and I kind of got drawn into it, blocking out my other senses.