To be honest, I didn't have the heart to live-blog Game 3 of the NLDS last night, and that's fitting, since the Phillies clearly didn't have the heart to play in that game. There was really no point in screaming a minute-by-minute recap of the end of my favorite team's hopes into the void of Saturday night on the Internet, which is precisely where you wind up when you've hitched your wagon to one too many empty promises and find yourself at home, alone, drunken and empty like the 20-some bottles of Yuengling strewn on the carpet.
Is that morose enough? It'll have to be. If it's not, I blame it on Manuel. Even though I know he didn't cause it, just like he didn't cause the offense to suddenly morph from the NL's best into the Padres. Eight runs and 16 hits should have been the Phils' production in one game, not one series. What didn't happen for the Phillies in this series is what had happened all season long. In short, the Phillies we had known had played their final game of the season a week ago. The next day, they held a downtown rally in commemoration of their run to the playoffs. That same Monday, the Rockies were playing baseball, and winning baseball at that. While the Phillies looked back, the Rockies never took their eyes off the ball.