I took a lot of photos of my blood orange San Pellegrino and it was absolutely delicious and then I Instagramed the photos and it tasted even better, because Instagram is weird like that, but the point is: none of that helped. Sadly, I am actually writing today to recall any advice I may have given yesterday. And I don’t even have any new advice. (Which is kind of pathetic.) Why? Because I’ve come to a realization. A disappointing realization, but a realization all the same. Here it is:
Nothing helps with the stress of ohmygodTimLincecumispitching.
I will give you a moment to recover from the mind = blown thing.
Ready? Okay. Yeah. I was pretty shocked too. I’ve gotten pretty good, over the years, at eating pickles and painting my nails and making frappuccino cupcakes and all that stuff that relieves the stress of the Giants being… stressful, for lack of a better word. I thought the San Pellegrino was going to help. But it didn’t. And if the best drink on earth (other than black coffee, of course) can’t help then absolutely nothing can.
We will just have to suffer. And bite our nails. And not have excuses to make cupcakes based on Starbucks drinks, which is probably the saddest part of all.
Still, the obvious brilliance of the Dodgers blockbuster deal is turning out a bit like Blockbuster the movie store, ‘member that? Didn’t turn out so well. I mean, yes, A-Gon hit the ball a billion miles in his first at-bat, but then Josh Beckett kindly gave it right back, allowing a homer to the first batter he faced in his first start in Dodger Blue. As of this moment, the Dodgers are losing 1-0 to the Rockies (I laughed uncontrollably at the writing of that) and the Giants are still two games up on ‘em. Heading to Minute Maid Park. Things don’t look so dismal after all.