This isn't a rough start, this is getting jilted at the altar, this is getting dumped at the Prom, this is discovering the winning lottery ticket was fake. This isn't just losing on a baseball level, this is losing on a spiritual level, this is losing on a Karmic level, a Cosmic level, this isn't just losing, it's like watching a tradition die. 11-20 will do that, but it's not as bad as it seems...
In reality, this is just letting go of expectations, getting out of the way, and letting this team find itself. This team will find a way to win, to come together, and to, yes, make a serious run at the playoffs this season. It starts with this three game sweep of Houston, followed by crushing the White Sox, and coming home with some momentum.
It's way too early to give up, and blow the team up. This team hasn't even fired up the engines yet, but in the meantime, venting is necessary, so these poems are born to address the situation, please add your own:
What do we see?
We see greatness grazing in the pastures of our pastime.
We see swings getting checked, and checks getting cashed, a whole lotta zeroes, and some ugly math.
We see heads up on shoulders, dandruff and flakes, nibbling on edges, and making mistakes.
We see Scioscia and Butcher reach for the phone, with two runners on, but there's nobody home.
We see Mike risk 2, to try to win 3, ends up winning just 1 hell of a mutiny.
We can understand, this might take a few weeks, but shouldn't you oil the machine, if it squeaks?
Shouldn't you move the Ham if it squeals? Three Strikes you're out is one hell of a deal.
Shouldn't you keep the Trout in the stream, leadoff last year was more than a dream!
The best in the league told to get back in line, and do it again, batting 2nd this time?
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This Astros series, nay, this entire Astros AL West addition, is a gift from above. Hopefully the Angels can turn this thing around, the patient is critical, but we do have some miraculous talent, let's hope it comes through.