And happiness dries up...

I believe all the sweeping motions performed by the Rooters swept an accumulation of dust and crumbs into the joints of the Bostons, the lot of which were nothing but creaky and feeble in the face of the Canadians come down from the North Country.

Little to say, friends. Which way will the wind blow for this band of base-ball heroes? Will their ash clouts streak the sky like August lightning, or will their maddeningly inconsistent talents continue to result in a cavalcade of aces being scored upon them?

For the sake of my indigestion, I sincerely hope it will be the former. Else, it's the Duffy's for poor old Hurdy Bird.

1 - 1 = 0

Crumbs! Crumbs, I say! As soon as the glorious day we've long awaited arrives -- the return of our Colossus to the batting-box -- his compatriot of clout disappears from the starting nine.

Again, we're forced to ask, "Where is the Wonder?" One without the other in the batting order is like a scale out of balance, and the weakness is undeniable: A white-washing by the hated New Yorks.

Crumbs!