A consoling thought occurs to me (Sox & Twins also lost), but doesn't really take hold.
Guess I'll try to bask in the waning afterglow of Friday's fireworks (literal and figurative).
I'm a little steamed at Ryan Raburn's two errors in one inning at the hot corner, but he isn't responsible for all of the runners stranded, squandered, left on base to scorch in the August sun.
However, considering that Galarraga's been puking his guts out the past week with a horrible illness, losing 10 pounds, and becoming as weak as a newborn kitten, his outing was a bright spot in this loss.
Also, Granderson appears to be OK after making a terrific catch and body-slamming the wall. I was cringing and fretting for a bit there. His bell got rung pretty good.
Actually, when I think back on the absolute jewels twirled by Verlander and Washburn this week, I cannot help but smile and be happy. Baseball is so much fun when you're winning. Here's hoping we're still watching winning baseball in October.
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