As much as I maligned Bronson Arroyo, I derive no joy from his exit. Although it is so awful that it borders on hilarious, I feel a little bad for that skinny bitch. Boston was his world! He was buying an apartment! (cough*divorce*cough)
My sister Lucky called me at work last night and she was fabbagasted when I told her the news.
One good thing to come out of this: perhaps Mister B. will be inspired to write some actual songs. Lucky suggested the post title as a good one. How about... Thrown a Curveball? 61 Tears? Crying in the Bullpen? Lenny, Don't Lose That Number?
I'm sorry. I do think he kinda got a raw deal. The Reds. Oh my god.
PS Haven't been around lately because I've been in Massachusetts for most of my waking life. It's unhealthy and ungodly and I swear I'll do better once I disengage myself from the shackles of salaried labor.