Final Score: Nationals 7, Phillies 3
Dame of the Game:
Michael Morse: 2-4, 2 HR, 2 R, 4 RBI. Once was not enough. His appetite is insatiable.
Shame of the Game:
Tyler Cloyd: 5 IP, 6 ER, 6 H, 2 BB, 4 K. His poor pitching was almost too sweet for the Nats. I might even say that its excessive pleasantness for Nationals batters was cloyding.
And then there were three.
Three miserable little numbers, cowering in fear at the end of the road as the Natmobile careens wildly towards them, leaving a trail of crushed and crumpled numbers lying in its wake. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, and 5 are already a distant memory, and 4 now shudders its final dying twitches.
The details of the grisly affair seem almost superfluous. Number 4 was just another nameless victim of the out-of-control Natmobile. The goal is too near to worry about the particulars of the collateral damage.
At the end of the road lies the NLDS. The Natmobile is an unstoppable force, and the objects in its path are decidedly movable.