It was a nice day in Southwest Ohio, sun shining, John Smoltz pitching, game on national television, but ominous clouds of doom hung over Reds Kingdom as if a plague were about to ravage the land. It had been speculated by some that His Excellency Wayne Krivsky was possessed by demons on account of the rather poor Trade he had bestowed upon the subjects of the Kingdom. The pitcher on the mound, considered by many to be plucked from the garbage heap by His Excellency, had been expected to give a Maysesque performance, and all but 29,000 of the subjects decided to do other things than go to the ballpark.
The spirit of Joe Mays was conspicuously absent during the first six innings, however, a pleasant surprise to all involved in the Kingdom's affairs. Then, like the sudden onslaught of a tsunami after an oceanic earthquake, disaster struck. A certain ugly Texassan with a Polish name took control of the mound and the outcome of the game. Like a locust coming from the skies to punish the sinners of the world, he strutted into the seventh inning spouting minor league stuff and major league pain. Hits, walks, and runs rained down on the Kingdom. When the storm was over, the Reds had lost, and the surprising start by he who had been deemed Lohser before he had thrown a pitch in the royal red garb had gone to waste.
Jerry Moron, the royal wizard, must be dabbling in black magic, for why else would a disaster such as the Duke of Suck be allowed to pitch when the Reds have a two-run lead?
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