What can you say about a twenty-five-man offense that died?

That they were beautiful. And brilliant. That they loved walks and home runs. And wins. Once, they specifically had six All-Stars.

At the time I smiled too. But now I sit and wonder whether they won because they got lucky – in which case this regression would be explicable – or because they were healthy, in which case they’re all hiding nagging injuries. Either way we’re out of first place, which for some stupid reason bothers hell out of me, having grown up with the notion that we always had to be number one.

Team heritage, don’t you know?