I went to bed last night thinking that I'd conjure up something to say about this game by the time this morning rolled around. When that didn't happen, I figured something would at least come to me by noon. Not so much. It was just one great big confludence of failures in execution that resulted in much more aggravation than the two-run margin of defeat would indicate. The offense didn't produce runs like it needed to, the pitching was done in by an infurating series of events in the sixth and seventh innings, the defense reserved its mistakes for the most critical of moments ... on and on it goes. It certainly wasn't the kind of performance that was befitting of a big league superpower.
So, that's three disappointing losses in four days, a lousy beginning to the month of June and a 10-game West Coast road swing, and yet another opportunity lost in the Rangers' continued bid to bury the Angels. I'm not going to go back to the well of proclaiming that everything will be okay, because I think I've done enough to publicly espouse that particular viewpoint by now, and because everyone by now is looking ahead to Round 2 of Darvish/Wilson, with Yu getting the opportunity tonight to make everything a little more okay than it is right now. That's about all that I have in my bag right now.
Well, that and the ability to share enduring magical moments like this:
Because even when the darkest hour arrives, there's still always #cookietalk.