Our deviously devised and flawlessly executed stratagem to exhibit total and unabated ineptitude during the regular season made great advances tonight. In the end, the opposition was held to less than triple digits, according to the official scorebook, although I find that hard to believe.
There were some bumps in the road to incompetence. Bob Bearnot laced the ball all night and, at great peril to his craft, slid twice with surgical precision. Jim Cotter also insisted on hitting the Clincher on the nose most times. Robert gamely, and I do mean gamely, took to the rubber in the first game — defying doctors, personal trainers, Father TIme and his Better Half. Jimmy P. came on in relief in the second and insisted on retiring seven batters in a row at one point before he got back on board with the diabolical plot. Hell, Kevin almost did us in in the first, in fact, by retiring two out of the first three batters before allowing a combination of miscues, walks and hits to advance the master plan. And Ed cheered us to victory in two innings, perverse fellow that he is. I could go on, of course, but you get the picture. Well you did get the picture, but then you threw it away like a team player (couldn't resist).
So, onward we plod toward another championship. Who shall be with us for another doubleheader next Thursday at 7 and 8:15, this time against CASA and Moretrench?