"I'M NOT CRYING! I GOT A SPLINTER OF BAT IN MY EYE WHEN HE SMASHED THAT LAST DOUBLE TO THE WALL!"
Sweet merciful crap that is a brutal line for Dempster Baby - 3.0IP, 7H, 7ER. To be fair, the Pirates were due a road win, having lost the previous 14 contests away from their smelly Pittsburgh backwater (it's still nicer than Philadelphia!). To be even more fair, how could our $130M payroll possibly hope to compete with the fireballing likes of Jeff Karstens (3-10), Sean Gallagher (didn't we shitcan you two years ago?) and The Reanimated Corpse of Chan Ho Park. No, expecting a win last night with our ace on the mound would have been pure folly.
He looks so sad that I'm fairly convinced this in an ad for some manner of impotence drug.
How would you guess our record stands against the NL Central's perennial doormat this season? If you guessed 4-10, you're correct, you melancholy yet accurate son of a bitch! Of the MLB-worst 44 wins the Pirates boast, TEN them are against our team. Nearly a fourth of the wins of this pathetic shit team have come from shit-beating our half-assed collective. Oh, how I wish there was a way we could finish behind them in the division this year. It might send the message that the Ricketts are morons for keeping on Crane Kenney and Hungry Hungry Hendry, and that their Mastercard pre-sale can go fuck itself with a hot iron fire poker. But nay, our mighty Boys in Blue remain 11 1/2 above last place. Hooray!