One of these is keep me from worrying over the course of the season. Following a sports team is not a restful pastime. You worry and get angry and wind up wincing every time you hear Pete Kozma's name years later.
The Nats' main priority should be making sure none of that happens to me until the playoffs start.
And I have to say, I was starting to think about considering beginning to worry last night. The Nats were sitting on two straight losses and getting shut out by some guy I ain't never heard of.
It's one thing to get shut down by Jose Fernandez; that didn't bother me. But after three innings of silence against the dregs of Miami's bullpen followed by eight strikeouts at the hands of 32nd-round draft pick Adam Conley, the part of my brain that insists that the worst is going to happen was starting to take over.
Stupid brain! All the Nats were doing was getting Conley where they wanted him. Waiting til they saw the whites of his eyes. Roping, if you will, a dope.
In the seventh inning, Conley ran out of gas. Then came the Cannonade. Two distinct sets of back-to-back homers. Jayson Werth's 200th. A grand slam from Bryce Harper, who hadn't hit one in almost a week. Two hit into that minigolfesque thing in center field.
|They didn't light it up for the Nats.|
And let's not forget Stephen Strasburg's nearly flawless, possible-new-leadoff-hitter performance.
So yeah, it was silly of me to think about considering beginning to worry. Season's over. Harper's MVP. Dusty's Manager of the Year. See you in October.