NLDS Game 2: Buschwhacked

At a disgusted Davey Johnson’s request, Sean Burnett tries to rip his nose off. (AP Photo/Jeff Roberson)

Did the Nats win: Uhh…no.

Was it fun to watch: Is it fun to watch your entire family be instantly incinerated in a car accident?

Visceral Emotion of the Game: I feel like I’m dying a little bit inside. Wait, maybe it’s just a cold? No, no. Definitely dying.

Back when I used to dabble with the bats and balls myself, I had a coach who always used the same encouraging words when the team would go down 1-0 early in a game. “If you never score a run you’re not going to win anyway.” This was, logically, true. And it was comforting even though it omitted the fact that it was now impossible to win the game without scoring two runs.

When we gave up four runs early, the line had to be modified. “If you don’t score four runs in a game, you don’t deserve to win anyway.” This statement was less logical–after all, how do we know whether anyone deserves anything? What does it even mean to “deserve” something, in a world without karma or absolute good or reasonable grading for my English papers or an appropriate number of sexual partners given my impeccable taste in sweatpants? But after I got past my teenage existential crisis, this too was comforting. Four runs seems like a reasonable amount of runs to get in a game.

So that was what I thought to myself today, after Jordan Zimmermann took advantage of the biggest start of his life to use Busch Stadium as a giant port-a-potty with no flushing mechanism in the bottom of the second. The Nationals already had one run. That meant they had seven innings to score three runs. Surely, they could do that, right?

Right. They could. They did, even. But there’s another component to comebacks. Something I like to call the First Rule of Comebacks. It’s a rule so obvious that coaches don’t even bother to mention it during their inspiring comeback speeches, because if you’re too stupid to know and follow this rule you’re pretty much beyond help anyway. The First Rule of Comebacks is: once you have fallen into a run deficit, it is never okay to then give up eight more runs in addition to the four you already gave up. Surely, the Nationals could follow that rule, right?

Wrong. The could not. Or maybe they just didn’t want to. Either way, after Jordan Zimmermann dug the Nats into a good-sized hole, the Nats just kept on digging.

Zimmermann himself couldn’t help but take away another layer or so before Davey Johnson noticed what he was up to and buried him somewhere. Craig Stammen brought a shovel and pick with him to the mound. He hoped to strike it rich by mining out some gold and precious stones, but instead he just mined out some more Cardinal runs. Even when the Nats had clawed their way back the distance that they originally needed to escape said hole, they still remained a considerable distance from the surface and sunlight and not-losing.

Next, Michael Gonzalez entered the game and promptly offered Carlos Beltran a whole bucketful of dirt as a present. Not only was it a bad present, it was bad for the Nats, who found themselves trailing 8-4 in the 8th inning.

It was a sizeable hole, to be sure. The hole so deep that most Nationals would find it intimidating. But not Sean Burnett. Sean Burnett has only one reaction to a deep, dark, inanimate hole: extreme arousal. When Burnett entered the game, he didn’t just dig deeper into the hole. He fucked it with his gigantic, engorged, specially-designed-for-hole-rape power drill of a penis. By the time he was spent, the hole the Nats found themselves in was deeper than the Kola Superdeep Borehole.

And so, the Nationals languished in the bowels of the earth, either starving to death or falling into lava or being slaughtered by whatever orcs and Balrogs they had awakened by delving too deep.

I hope someone remembers to go down there and resurrect them before game 3, otherwise they’re really gonna have a tough time winning this series.

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