Disappointing endings
If I ever get around to writing a book about relationships ending, the best metaphor might be of an anti-climactic one is the end of tonight's Mets v. Cardinals game.
Seriously, how anyone can live with a game that ends with the bases loaded and two outs and someone (ahem, Carlos Beltran) gets the third and final out on a CALLED STRIKE?! Who loses the pennant race on a called strike? It's horrifically anti-climactic and yet still depressing, again, like a relationship that just slowly fades away... it's no less melodramatic and tragic but still it fades away. Sigh.
Okay, now that I've been my own kind of dramatic, I'm going to make myself a consolation prize brownie and go on with life, secure in the knowledge that the Tigers will beat the Cardinals in the World Series. Ahhh. Enjoy the calm.
posted by The Crippler at 9:03 PM
1 Comments:
Hey Sweetness,
Great minds think alike--I had the same thought you did. A CALLED THIRD STRIKE? Who the hell, in that situation, isn't up there hacking at any pitch that's even close? As I've learned (far too many times thanks to my beloved Giants), baseball is a game that will break your heart.
8:26 PM
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