Oh Come All Lee Faithful, Joyful And... Well, You Get The Point
I’ll be honest. I don’t watch postseason trades. I find them as futile as foreplay after forty or light beer chasers. But when I read that the phenomenal uniform philler-outer, Jayson Werth, had been signed by a division rival, I burned my bra in defiance. Then I just had to buy a new one. That’s when I made an important discovery: Not everything expands when it’s cold. In this era of disclaimers, stipulations, and legal litigation, let me make one thing vividly clear: I’d still do Jayson Werth. But some people thought I’d take the news hard. Hard? Hell, at least he didn’t run up the phone bill and stick my toothbrush someplace dreary when he left. Besides, who can blame him? Like my husband said, “It's just a man taking care of his family." Considering a few years ago he questioned whether he’d ever play ball again, I take my hat off to him. Okay, maybe a few other pieces of clothing too. And the Nationals : Was it an accident that a team hoping to fill i