Here I am in the middle of a big post-season series where I’m the ace. Last time it was 2010, Nightmares vs the Firebirds. And the Nightmares prevailed. I was the winning pitcher in three of those games. But that fact tells you that it went to seven games.
That’s four games where I had no effect on the outcome. There is no feeling more helpless than to watch your team out there on the field during someone else’s start. Especially when they’re struggling.
Except, it can be more helpless. I discovered that last night. When you’re on the mound and you’re not getting it done. And your opposing number is. Sure, my elbow is bothering me and sure, I was on short rest. But there is no excuse to pitch as poorly as I did. And at a time when I could not afford to be at other than my best.
There’s nothing I can say to undo what happened. There are no magic words that will erase my poor performance. All I can do is apologize. And do better in the future. Toward that end, I am hiring a rehab specialist to rehab my elbow and she says it will be healthy should my teammates afford me the opportunity to pitch again. Kaell had verbally agreed to have the team pay half but I don’t really care if they do or not. I can afford it. And it is very much my problem, not my team’s. I’ve thrown over 450 third strikes this season, I should’ve been able to throw that one as well.
So I watch helplessly and hope that I get another chance. It’s deja vu again.