Yeah, you read that right. Allow me to set the scene. In the bottom of the 8th, Tyler Clippard was brought into the ballgame to keep the game... well... sorta-somewhat close. (4-0 Astros at that point). He walked Berkman to lead off the inning in spectacular fashion, then gave up a ground-rule double to Carlos Lee. (That ball may or may not have been catch able. At this point, however, I have stopped thinking like that whenever a ball is hit towards Adam Dunn. Unless it's a fucking line drive right at his face, I'm now assuming it's a double, even if it's hit by a bigger, fatter version of Dmitri Young. Which does not exist.)
Next up was Geoff Blum (whose parent I have issues with, btw. It's Jeff. Not Geoff, god dammit) who hit a shallow pop fly to center that Nyjer Morgan made a nice play on. So, with one out, here is where the
I'd write more about it, but there really isn't anything else to say. Also, I spent two fucking hours on this
In other news, Manny Acta finally got fired. I'm seriously going to leave it at that for right now. I'm not a happy person. I haven't read a single Internet article on it, and haven't even opened my Twitter client today. I'm just shocked that they think handing the reigns over to a lifetime .445 manager is gonna make that much of a difference. I dunno. Maybe I should do some research and see if Riggleman's squads played fundamentally sound baseball. That may be one area he can improve on. What he can't change, however, are the names on the back of the jerseys in the clubhouse. You see... the players on this team need someone continually babysitting them. Continually encouraging them. Continually challenging them. The players need someone to get them to actually practice, play, and act like they give a fuck. Is Jim Riggleman that guy? I don't know, but that sure as shit wasn't Manny Acta. (I guess I did end up writing something on that, eh?)
Farewell to you and your fedora, Manny. I wish you the best of luck.