While I’ve got your attention in the 21st Inning, this thing has got to end

It’s obvious. Nobody is going to score. It’s like an episode of “Lost”. Many hours and innings ago, the pictures of the seeping people were old. It’s tiring just to watch. Kip Wells v. Glendon Rusch, sort of a greatest hit of the early 2000s. Who knew they’d be up and at ’em?

We MUST HAVE CLOSURE.  Too many left on base. Too many hopes and dreams mercilessly crushed. Who can stop this madness? Stop the rain.
I’m getting giddy. A single to left by Tony Clark. Jim Edmonds now. Oh my. That soft grounder to short isn’t going to help anybody.
So, we go to the lucky 22nd.
Frankly, live commentating MLB.com fans. This moment has timeless karma attached to its sad rump.
But I digress. Nothing says baseball more than playing beyond when you drop. The American League has a 1 a.m. curfew.
This is the National League. Mojumbo!!!
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