Could have been that Cole Hamels looked outside and saw his shadow, which means he'll be with the Phillies for another 164 days — or until the July 31st deadline.
Thing is, Junior's been busier than a hamster on steroids. He's got to move some bodies or things will get sticky come spring training, and I don't mean the Bright House Field cotton candy. And, of course, we all know which bodies.
Right! Them bodies!
You can't pick up a newspaper these days without seeing which bodies Junior wants to move here or there. Actually, I don't pick up the paper, I read the Inky online.
If Junior had his choice, he'd package the bodies off to that faraway place that produced the Jamaican bobsled team — the one that scared the bejesus out of the Russians at the Sochi Olympics. If that Jamaican four-sled had pulled it off, the Gulag would've packaged a younger Vladimir Putin to a snow haven called Siberia, where you can bet your sweet _ _ _ they ain't skiing.
I'm trying to make an analogy here.
If Junior makes the wrong move trying to pull the plug on Hamels — like trading him to Milwaukee for a couple of stiffs that never see the light above Double AA — he might end up in the baseball equivalent of Siberia: GM for the Portland Seadogs in Maine, where the average temperature for a night game is 62, and rainy as hell.
Where their idea of a give-away night is a smelt fish sandwich on pumpkin bread. See what I'm saying?
For the rest of the bodies it doesn't matter. The Phillies are trying to make under the table deals where they take 'em — but we pay 'em. Maybe the first time in sports history where a GM pays millions to watch his players play on other teams.
Now lots of folks reading this might be confused.
But not the Faithful here in Philly. When they read 'pay millions to watch his players play on other teams,' they know exactly what I'm saying. In fact, come April, the Faithful is praying we see a team on the field in red pinstripes, where we don't know half the damn names. We'll have to get one of those pronunciation booklets they sell at the park.
Like this kid they got in the Rule 5 draft named Odubel Herrera. Now if you are like me, the only Herrera you've heard of is the one who played first at Connie Mack Stadium in '60, named Pancho, the first Afro-Latino in baseball. We got names for everything, today.
No, this kid ain't him because Pancho's pushing up daisies somewhere.
Anyway, this new kid Herrera can play.
Now, pay attention because here's exactly what I'm saying. When Junior gets rid of the bodies, kids like Odubel Herrera will take the field and the Faithful will get happy again. Then maybe Junior won't end up GM'en the Seadogs.
That's all I'm saying!