I keep reading something that has an effect on me which is difficult to describe. It tends to distort my face like I just heard Carl Lewis sing the national anthem, saw one of those bald Britney photos, or maybe swallowed a bug. It’s a face trying to rationalize something almost unbearable. “Not my fault, not my fault, not my fault,” I’ll say, closing my eyes and shaking my head.
The Seattle Mariners recently decided to tender a contract to Horacio Ramirez. What I’ve seen time and again as a rationale for bringing him back to Seattle is the skill of Mel Stottlemyre, as “one of the best” pitching coaches in the business and that the feeling of the front office is that he can turn Horacio Ramirez from Ho-hum back into Ho-Ram.
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