Merde. It seems their is no end to the destitution from which one suffers as a Reds fan, no light at the end of the tunnel, no oasis in the desert of our discontent. No, we have done something to the baseball gods for which we must suffer eternal punishment, committed some atrocious act that has stripped us from divine favor. But what was it? How did we offend thee, oh gods of the diamond? How did we, who once were smiled upon by thee, who witnessed the Big Red Machine, who started this whole business of professional baseball in the first place, how did we fall from your grace, oh holy lords of the ballyard?
Jerry Hairston, Jr. as the starting shortstop? Really?
What the heck happened to Alex Gonzalez?
Was it really so tough to get a real shortstop like say, Furcal or Greene or anyone who is an actual shortstop and who is an actual starter?
Our offseason thus far: David Weathers, Ramon Hernandez, Arthur Rhodes, Willy Taveras, and Jerry Hairston, Jr. That's a winning team, isn't it? Ugh.
Nine losing seasons in a row - that's long enough to miss an entire generation of new Reds fans. Just think of years age 2 through 11 or 3 through 12. Those are the formative years. Those are the years you lay down your roots, lay down your loyalty, become a diehard fan who will never walk away despite the torture of the Eric Miltons and Joe Mays of the world sitting fat on your roster. But what kid wants to become a fan of a team who always loses? What kid has the patience to hear stories of past glories while the current roster kicks balls around the field? Baseball has to compete with the likes of Pokemon and video games and the NFL for the attention of kids these days. To perennially not field a team capable of staying in contention through a whole season is death to the fanbase.
Why, baseball gods, have you forsaken us?
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