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The beginning of the end. Padres lose to Giants like a million to nothing.

Well, boys and girls, it was fun while it lasted. Can we at least learn anything from that loss? Here's what I learned:

  • When the catcher has the ball, is in front of the plate, and there are two baserunners not more than two feet apart, running towards home plate, I really would rather see one of the runners drop a shoulder on the catcher as opposed to trying to delicately hop over the guy's mitt.
  • When Jake Peavy gives up a grand slam, I am not more nor less annoyed than if some other pitcher gave up a grand slam unless that "other pitcher" somehow were Trevor Hoffman circa 2003-2007.
  • At this moment, I can confidently say that I could've played in place of Chris Burke tonight and most people would not have known the difference other than to say, "Chris Burke got some kind of tan while he was in Seattle."
Maybe running into Dennis Morgigno at the Kebab Shop was a bad sign. I saw him. He saw me. We briefly made eye contact. I could've introduced myself and said, "Hey Dennis. I know Steve Quis and Bob Scanlan and John Weisbarth etc etc," but then what? What does a guy like Dennis Morgigno do with that kind of information? "Yeah. Those guys aren't allowed to sneeze unless I give approval." Would I have been intimidated? Maybe. Would it have made for interesting conversation? Definitely.

Instead, what do I do? I just look away nervously and send a tweet. That's right I tweeted or twat as it were. And that right there is a moral to this story. The moral of the story: Make the most of your celebrity encounters because you're never gonna know when the Padres are going to lose a game and you'll need to have some kind of story to cheer everybody back up again.