My Bad

Sorry everybody, my fault.

Every time I glanced at the screen last night (when I should have been working) we either stranded a runner on base, or gave up a single.

Every time I talked to a waiter or a customer about the game, I heard the bartender groan.

Even when I talked on the phone to my parents (vacationing in Vegas) the second we mentioned the word comeback, Eddie gave up a homerun.

What I'm saying is...my bad.

I will crawl into a hole until we win again....please...please...let us win again soon.


  1. wo wait your parents are in Vegas??? somehow I'm surprised, but picturing them in the high-roller room drinking martinis makes me smile.

  2. Yeah, it is all your fault. Don't you dare do the same thing with the Vikes, Ben...

    There, I commented. How do I choose by which method you will debase yourself?