Since it is Sunday and I'm getting ready to do some work and watch a ballgame instead of going to a house of worship:
Please please please please please please please please please please make sure Joe West and his band of arrogant clowns are long gone by Tuesday.
Can you imagine if Joe West was behind the plate for Stephen Strasburg's debut? He'd think the big deal was Joe West. Angel Hernandez is back there today, he's not any better.
Imagine if one of those two had made the Jim Joyce call. The world would still be screaming. My old boss said the other night he'd never heard of Jim Joyce, which is exactly one of the things that makes Joyce a good umpire. He's had 22 years in the game and he's not a "name." West? He's a name, all right.
Batista took the high road last night and said West was within his rights. Of course he was - that doesn't mean West WAS right. How about a warning? Or how about you put on the mask and get ready for the next batter? Everyone in the world, probably including Brandon Phillips, knew Phillips was going to get drilled and should get drilled. One to the ribs and it's over. Move on. EVERYONE. That means you, too, Joe.
My Son the Braves Fan was watching at home and he sent a text right after the dustup at third base that led to Jim Riggleman's departure. Decorum prohibits me from repeating it here. Suffice it to say, it wasn't, "Wow, Joe West sure is cool. I want to go buy all his country CDs now."
Please please please please please PLEASE get him out of town by Tuesday.
Speaking of which, is it Tuesday yet?