They talk about playing "tight" or playing "loose," needing to get more "fired up," or finding a sense of "urgency." They talk but, short of Brett Myers, no one ever looks emotionally invested. Instead, we just get the same lifeless platitudes on loop.
Shouldn't someone be smashing a Gatorade cooler with a Louisville Slugger or picking a fight with Zolecki? (Better him than me.) Isn't it long past time to have a Network moment in which they scream how they're mad as hell and not going to take it anymore?
I'm not saying that kind of thing would help, but at least it would demonstrate that they haven't gone completely cold on us. Anger is understandable. Endearing, even. But right now, the fans are the only ones who appear bothered by a wasted year.
And make no mistake, the season has been squandered. All Jamie Moyer did last night was more of what he's done all year - prolong the inevitable. They are still three games back with 15 to play. The year began with comparisons to the '93 Phils. It will end more closely resembling the '03 version - an unremarkable team that managed 86 wins and was home in time to catch the new fall lineup on Fox.
And so I asked Victorino whether, at least, the team felt extra pressure as the season funnels toward the finish. Surely, given the fact that they had control of the division for so long, the Phillies must shoulder an added burden now.
"Not at all," Victorino said pleasantly. "You just have to go out there and play. This is the time in the season when people are tired, but this is when the dogs come out."
Now, the man had a coffee cup in his hand. He was holding liquid aggravator, and he never curled his lip, much less snarled. Dogs? Maybe so, but not in the way Victorino meant.
All season, we were told that the Phillies are levelheaded - the losses don't bother them, and the wins don't swell their heads. We were told it made them professionals, but that approach got old about a month ago.
