It’s about that time of year again. It’s that time known so well to Angels fans where one of the least inconsistent pitchers suffers an insanely painful injury that will take them off the mound for the remainder of the season. It’s that late July/early August week or two where the Angels cement their status as a non-contender that the Halos have become so accustomed to for the past 5 seasons. It’s that last 1⁄3 of the season where the Angels defy all expectations by managing to not be competitive while making writing postgames a chore by also not being the month of that same 1⁄3 of the season when you can see expanded rosters. Yes, it’s that time of the year again.
It’s the time of the year when Trevor Cahill is a known commodity who absolutely, positively should not be used past the first time through the order. As someone who knows his timepieces, to say that Cahill’s implosion dependability past his 9th batter faced is “like clockwork” is far too complimentary to clocks. Of course, what choice do the Angels have when your pitcher runs to first to secure a feed and his knee disintegrates?
The runs don’t come this time of year. The pitchers don’t make it past the third inning. The extra bases don’t get taken, the comebacks don’t come to fruition, and the ball and strikes get called contradictory to the television’s little white box.
The Angels don’t win.
Much like fans in the Pacific Northwest, this listlessness has become not only commonly accepted, but embraced. I am not innocent, myself. We are smack dab in the middle of the time of year where we postgame writers pass off the write-ups between each other because we “aren’t feeling it” to quote an unnamed H.T. Ennis. ‘Tis the season for Rahul and me falling asleep halfway through games after calling the piece. Frankly, it’s the doldrums where 100% of us consider just throwing up another Fanshot with 0% effort.
We are watching the greatest player of all time, yet can’t overcome this stifling ennui and be invested in the game. And I’m not preaching or scolding; for I’m as guilty as anyone. It makes me physically sick to watch this team in the second half and has since 2012 with the exception of a single year (and my personal take is that the 2014 team wasn’t even as good as the 2012 one, feasting off a crippled Rangers team and one of the most insane collapses in the history of the game on the part of the Athletics).
I don’t want to feel this way. Please, Angels. Help me not feel this way.