"Open, you piece of sh_t! Light our darkest hour! MMMPPH!"
I'm not sure what we can do at this point. The Matrix of Leadership won't open. Optimus Prime is dead. The last we saw of Bumblebee, Megatron had him dressed in a black leather outfit with a ball gag in his mouth. It's depressing.
There's very little analysis to be done now. Our pair of aces was great until we realized that we aren't playing poker. I'm not even mad. So many things have seemed to work against us this season. It's tough to lay the blame on anybody in particular. Can you blame Milton Bradley? I guess you can, though it's tough to blame him for stepping on Mike Cameron's hand. Both guys were running hard for a ball into the gap. Personally, I can't blame him for an umpiring crew blatantly working to remove him from a game.
Maybe I blame the umps. Maybe there's something to what Buster Olney suggested that they have a vendetta against the Padres because of Sandy Alderson. If that's the case, it's just one more reason why umps are lower than cockroaches.
Anyways, I'll just be over here in the corner, waiting for the Phillies to pass us.