Look out, folks, because it is officially a slow Friday night...and I'm feeling frisky...So bring me your tired, your poor, your farm animals, and while you're at it give me something to write about because frankly, there's not much to say after a fourth game in a row with an outcome dictated mostly by the starting pitcher's early ineptitude. Zito's eptitude in the middle innings was fine and dandy, but by that time the horse was already out of the barn (and in my bedroom--whole other story). Early on, the only suspense was wondering who would find the strike zone first, Barry Zito or Joe West.
Be careful what you wish for, Dan Johnson. When you're hitting .000, you could just as easily be Mark De Rosa, who entered tonight's game 0/1. When you're hitting .034, however, it looks bad. But feels much better. Much, much better. Tonight's game: worth it just for the grins on the faces of Dan Johnson and Frank Thomas.
And that, my friends, is what I love about baseball. Even in a disappointing 4th loss in a row, there is a unique moment to cherish, a moment that reminds you that you are watching real people, a moment that allows you to forget that you don't know them personally because you do--they just don't happen to know you back.
The A's will be fine. More than 1/3 of their season has been spent on one losing streak and they are .5 games out of first place. Rich Harden is going tomorrow and Frank Thomas appears to have shed his extended spring training in favor of his regular season form. Crosby took a throw at second from Kendall and only came up limping--that's progress. And I have two sheep waiting for me in my bed. Menage a baaaaaaaaaa, baby!
