Well Played, Sir

We found ourselves rooting against you time and again. We’ve been doing it for a while. You went from journeyman, role-playing outfielder/afterthought to a World Series Champion. Seemingly overnight. You got big hits. You played way over your head. You did it all while looking like you had contracted some type of rare uncurable disease. Someone googled with “Jason Werth dying” as a search term and stumbled upon this blog during your triumphant run. But it was not about to stop you, was it?

Tell us, what does champagne taste like mixed with Skoal? We’ve been close many times, but have never had the honor of celebrating such a special occasion. Whats it like to have to wear swimmer’s goggles because the booze is coming down in such a frenzy? Was your mom part of the action last night? Charles Barkley. Vincent Papali. Tug Mccgraw. Now Jayson Werth. It’s like it was always meant to be.

You were one of the only Major Leaguers we didn’t suffer envy from, until last night, Jayson with a “Y”. You’re a hero now man. To some anyways. You’ll probably be entertaining some enticing contract offers soon. But will you cut your hair? Will you shave? When you go to the White House will you wear a tie? Such questions are pondered. If your name can be scratched on the epitaph of a World Series trophy, its not that far-fetched to believe ours might have been able to be as well; if just things were a bit different.