Jonathan Sanchez: I am so ****** angry right now. I allowed one hit tonight. One! And the Padres still won. I want to punch something.
: Relax, kid. You’re a member of the Tough Luck Loss Club. Here’s your jacket, and here’s your $25 gift card to Outback Steakhouse. Wear it with pride and get your self a piece of wallaby steak, or something.
Sanchez: Screw that, man. These guys better pick me up the next time I’m struggling. One hit, and I’m the one who gets the loss? That’s a bunch of crap.
Cain: Ha. It doesn’t work like that. It just gets worse and worse. And the second the offense scores a couple of runs for you, the bullpen coughs up your game. Pitch your best and hope there’s a full moon. That’s all you can do. Remember, Jonathan, hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever...
Sanchez: If the bullpen coughs up a game like that, I will cut them. I will cut each and every one of them.
Cain: You just need to go with the flow. You can’t change this team -- you can only do your best.
Sanchez: Whatever. The next time I walk five and leave before the sixth inning, this team had better score for me. And I don’t want to see the bullpen mess it up. I want a cheap win to make up for this.
Sanchez storms out of the clubhouseFive days later
Sanchez gives up five walks in five innings, wriggles out of trouble every five seconds, and gets great bullpen help to go along with some run support
Several players leave the clubhouse to go out for drinks
Cain: Wait, fellas! Hold the door!
No one holds the door. The door slams shut in Cain’s face.
A slow, sad Vince Guaraldi song starts to play
I told you they wouldn’t score six runs off Roy Halladay. What a difference a couple of two-out hits make. Best game of the year, non-comeback division.