Last night, all across rural Missouri and Iowa worried families looked at the bright flames rising from the distant horizon. Panicky children with fear in their young eyes turned to their fathers and asked, "Have the terrorists bombed Kansas City?"
"No, children," came the sadden response, "That is what a Kip Wells start looks like."
"Oh daddy!" cried the children, tears streaming down their faces, "Make it go away! Please!"
In response the Post Dispatch offered the following:
Memo to Tony La Russa and Dave Duncan:
Please stop the fight.
Call it a TKO.
Do the merciful thing.
You guys can’t keep running Kip Wells out there to take a beating every five days. If you do, you’ll be hearing from Amnesty International. After games these days, poor Wells, a nice man, looks as confused as the million of Americans who watched the final scene of The Sopranos.
Wells lasted 1.1 innings in Thursday’s 17-8 pasting by the Royals, and he dropped to 2-11 on the season.
Look, I know your hearts are in the right place; you want to give Kip time to turn things around. A few weeks back, in his first start since the birth of his first child, Kip pitched well, and I wrote a hopeful column about how this could be the turning point, blah, blah, blah. It wasn’t. And I know you don’t have a list of appealing, ready-made options to plug into the rotation, so you’ve been giving Kip even more rope to … oh, never mind.
Anthony Reyes is about the best bet, for reasons we discussed in our previous blog.
Whatever you decide, from now on, it’s gotta be anybody but the Kipper. And don’t be hardheaded about it. It’s OK to admit to defeat in this particular reclamation project.
GASL agrees. Enough already.
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