Base BLUE balls

It was a terrible baseball season here in Denver. The Rockies had the kind of season that leads one to imagine ancient curses seeping out of old graves beneath the stadium or the ghosts of restless players who can only be redeemed in the middle of a corn field.

Yes, it was THAT bad. 

Record number of losses for a single season.

The team manager resigning in disgrace.

Pitchers being chased down the 16th St mall with pitchforks and torches....

A very ugly picture.

But who I really felt bad for was PC. He has loved the game of baseball since about the time he could walk. He's played, he now coaches, he follows the season faithfully.  His office is fairly spartan, but with the exception of one picture, what decor he does have is all baseball related. 

There's a jersey on the wall above his conference table.  It's autographed by his boyhood hero.

So when I heard him say he totally lost interest in the game this season it about broke my heart.  Mr. Baseball just didn't care this year.

Not that I could blame him, but it still just wouldn't do.  Something had to done.

It was about then that I realized he hadn't been in chastity for awhile, and genius struck.

So I told him for the rest of the season he could only come if the Rockies won a game.  That caught his attention. 

That was back in August, and the Rockies just played their last game last week. (They actually one that one.) The season had a few ups, but many, many downs, which made for a very long couple of months for PC.

But it certainly kept him interested. 

~Lady Koregan