It's a tenet of our blog that there are no moral victories in baseball - the loss column comes without asterisks, parentheses or stuff in superscript. Moral victories are losses.
The eclipse part was largely spoiled by a blanket of clouds, though even without a clear view of totality the experience was still pretty cool: three minutes of nighttime followed by the light coming back up like God had flipped a cosmic dimmer switch.
It was a win to put a little extra pep in one's step, so much so that I largely shrugged off Adrian Houser getting tattooed when Tuesday night came around.
I was less philosophical about the Mets repeatedly short-circuiting their own offense in particularly frustrating fashion, with leadoff baserunners erased through mischance or their own dunderheadedness, but hey, don't watch baseball if you can't handle the idea that the universe is perverse and cruel.
Collection
[
|
...
]