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Just Call Him Carrie

I won't even make any Good/Evil Davies jokes after last night, because that was just heartbreaking, both for the team and for him personally. I don't get it, because he seemed so fragile out there, but then he still had the balls to come back out and sit in the dugout after the mini-meltdown, which gives me hope that he's not just a Delicate Pitching Flower who will never be consistent . . . I don't know. I hope he's seeing the team therapist, because his problems definitely seem mental.

Anyway, we're missing the larger issue here, cause, um. Frenchy turned the stadium lights off with his mind last night.

Of all the guys on the team who might have had telekinetic powers, I never would have guessed Frenchy, but there's pretty much no denying it now. He got pissed -- helmet-throwing-at-a-home-game pissed -- and can you blame him, given that umpiring, and the struggles of Davies, his childhood friend, and the fact that we were getting our asses handed to us by the record-breakingly awful 2007 Reds? So he's furious, throwing stuff, getting thrown out himself, and, boom. Half the outfield lights shut off.

This explains so much: why is Frenchy so good in tense, "clutch" situations? Because his telekinetic powers kick in when his emotions are heightened! You all saw it with your own eyes last night. And when Mark Bradley writes his big feature on, just remember who broke the story.

As Fox Mulder once said, "If coincidences are just coincidences, why do they feel so contrived?"

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