In some alternate universe Junior never got hurt, and he hit 760 home runs. And nobody cared about Barry Bonds.
Yesterday was quite possibly the most depressing day I've had as a baseball fan since Game 7 of the 2006 NLCS (the 97-win Mets inexplicably losing to the not-that-good Cardinals). It was just very upsetting.
I'm planning on going into more detail about all of this later, but I was unhappy enough when I found out that Ken Griffey, Jr. was retiring. The Armando Galarraga/Jim Joyce snafu made things even worse. And then the Mets lost in about the worst way possible: Johan pitches well, Ass-Rod blows the save, and there's a walk-off grand slam.
Clearly I have done something to anger the baseball gods. I offer them this sacrifice, to appease them:
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