Roy Halladay has reached legendary status. But how many must be sacrificed in order to feed him? Five prospects? Six?
These trade rumors have been swirling around now for so long, with dreams of a Halladay/Martinez/ Hamels rotation being enough to keep opposing hitters from leaving the dugout. Except that Cole’s year isn’t going as smoothly as he’d like, and Martinez is old.
I mean, look at him out there. He’s… so old.
Then again, he could take a sip of whatever Raul Ibanez has been drinking and completely forget that the numbers in his age column keep going up.
Roy Halladay is a pitcher. His numbers are incredible and they’re already polishing off a seat for him in Cooperstown.
But, thanks to all these trade rumors, he’s now reached this mythic status in our heads; like he’s a legendary god, descending from Canada, who is literally unhittable and hurls maelstroms instead of baseballs.
The way we rationalize giving up some of our most spectacular young guys is to assume that with Halladay, we will be unstoppable. With him at the helm, Phils’ fans see him barreling his way through our division rivals, chucking 94 mph cutters at people.
And maybe that would totally happen! Its quite an image.
But there’s danger in these waters…and it’s a shark that keeps whispering, “Welcome to Philadelphia.”
These days, Philadelphia baseball is something to be proud of. Very proud of.
As surreal as it was to get to keep watching baseball into the fall, the gratification of a World Series trophy is… is just great.
But the revolving door of starting pitchers that have been systematically lined up and shot this year is vaguely reminiscent of a time , not so long ago, when a player would be the cock of the walk, only to show up in Philly and forget how to play baseball.
Roy Halladay impresses everyone, including me.
In fact, Roy Halladay terrifies me, because if nothing else, he is highly evident of a government-run facility somewhere in the desolate Midwest, where they are constructing cyborgs for the sole purpose of achieving athletic perfection.
Yet, it’s hard to ignore that baseball players are, in fact, human (maybe).
As much as it may seem like Halladay could roll in here and start ripping opposing batters apart, he could very well slip on a pebble in the parking lot or have his pelvis shattered by a “Welcome to the Team” pie-ing by Shane Victorino that somehow goes horribly wrong.
And then where would be?
Well, first place.
But the Blue Jays would be on the other side of the fence, taunting us with their newly manufactured Toronto jerseys, with names like “Carrasco,” “Happ,” or “Drabek,” on the back.
Should Halladay show up and have nothing terrible happen to him, and help us to another World Series win, and stick around until the end of his contract, then, you know. Yippee.
Meanwhile, the Blue Jays are rolling in hot Phils prospects like happy dogs.
If you guys are fine to settle with a 2008 World Series Trophy and then relax for awhile, great.
Actually, not great.
It's people like you who are going to cost us the seasons ahead.
Without these prospects, a Phillies’ future gets that much bleaker.
Don’t act like you can’t remember when we were scampering around the NL East basement, trying to make the best of a roster full of injured mediocrity, and sending one reserve player to the All-Star team because somebody had to go.
There were so many Phillies’ jerseys in that NL dugout this year.
Wasn’t that nice?
Call me a pessimist, but I live in a city with 10,000 professional baseball losses and a sky-rocketing homicide rate. Success doesn't last forever and the ability to look down at your farm system and see some real talent coming off the assembly line is a great way to feel all tingly inside.
Maybe we should consider what Roy really costs, maybe not now, but in the future.
A future that will probably have cyborgs.
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