Dude. Dude. The Astros got a run in the first, the Pirates tied it in the second on a homer by Gaby Sanchez, and then the umpires reversed what had initially been a safe call as Dallas Keuchel appeared to tag Michael McKenry out at first, and Clint Hurdle understandably went a little nuts and got thrown out. If you're Hurdle in that situation and you've gone from a potential Manager of the Year to a complete goat in a span of six weeks, you can't go moderately nuts. You have to either go completely bonkers and get ejected, or just shrug your shoulders, ponder the arbitrariness of worldly life, and then wander off to hitchhike into the West Texas desert to talk to cacti. There's no middle ground.
Kevin Correia had a good game, striking out nine batters, but the Pirates left him in there in the seventh, and after the Astros put runners on with a soft single and a Clint Barmes error, Jason Castro hit a three-run shot to right (on what appeared to be a decent pitch) to make it 4-1.
The Pirates' hitters, meanwhile, did next to nothing, because why would they? Their manager may not be, uh, enlightened, but the Bucs seem to have accepted that they are simply bit players in what is, after all, an arbitrary form of entertainment. It's just baseball, you know? It's, like, a game in which a bunch of dudes try to hit a ball with a stick! How weird is that, man? What does any of it mean in the grand scheme of, like, the universe?
It's like, I'm not religious, but I'm, like, spiritual, you know? And it's like, what if there isn't just one God, but, like, lots of gods, and they're all just, like, scattered through the cosmos, and you're all like, "Hey gods, how's it hanging?" And they're just like, "It's totally righteous, brah! You want some Doritos?" Because when you come down to it, aren't we all just, like, little Dorito crumbs floating out there in the universe? And when the chill dude Dorito crumb meets the hot babe Dorito crumb and they start havin' little Dorito crumb soul babies, do you think that when the Dorito crumb children get together and go to, like, the playground of, like, Heavenly Righeousness to climb on the jungle gym, they're all like, "My Dorito crumb grandaddy won a World Series"? Fat chance, broheeeem! They're just totally out there pondering the beauty and the sweetness of the cosmos, you know?
We all gotta be together, and, like, be brothers and sisters to one another, and appreciate this worldly stuff for what it is. Like, for example, did you know that the Pirates are up to 77 losses on the season? I mean, some dork who doesn't get it would probably be all like, "77 losses is awful! In early August, that would have seemed impossible!"
But not me, man. I'm just all like, look -- it's a seven, and then another seven! It just, like, blows my mind! And when you write it out, like 77, it looks like two little Dorito crumb babies spooning each other as the sun goes down on the beach. I'm all like, "Let's get a bonfire going, broheems! I think I've got half a box of Lucky Charms in the van! Who's bringing the hacky sack?" You know what I mean?