#6

Last night was my premiere of the Nats new stadium, which is absolutely lovely. Gleaming like a shiny pair of new shoes, the stadium stands in a neighborhood of the city that once housed titty bars and gay male strip clubs. Now, instead of rave clubs (that I once went to), hulking shells of buildings that promise urban reclamation are being slapped together by a developer who also happens to be the majority owner of the team. How convenient for me, a taxpayer shouldering one of the largest individual municipal tax burdens in the nation. No fretting though, there's also MLB's largest jumbotron!

At least there was something for me to enjoy because the game was a complete disaster for the Mets. Every potential weakness became as magnified as that big ass TV in centerfield. Ugliness from everyone - Perez, the relievers that bring no relief, Carlos Delgado, and Reyes and Wright not hitting. A Mets apocalypse, 10-5.

Nearly all of these things are not new. I have bitched about them in one form or another since I have been blogging. But there's a new one on the list.... Carlos D. I was talking about him last night to my friend who I went to the game with. In our conversation, we talked about his move to 6th in the batting order. She revealed that she too had been cast into the role of #6 when she was in a slump. Just as interesting, she was also at first.

She got over her slump. Let's just hope #6 is the tonic.