If there has been one redeeming part of this whole disastrous season, it has been that the Royals have thoroughly throttled the Pale Hoes, taking the season series 12 - 6. Day in and day out, the Royals have embarrassed the first-place Southside Wan Trollops when given the opportunity to face them.
Today, it was Eric Hosmer reemerging from the dozen or so dark years that he has been mysteriously absent from tending to his duties as The Son of God, driving in the game-winning run squeaking a liner up the third-base line, willing it past the mustachioed false idol guarding the line at third base. The fleet-footed Jarrod Dyson stood at second base. The outs that remained for the home team were one before squandering a scoring opportunity by walking back to the dugout without plating the lead-off base-hit. The free-swinging Frenchman had been put on first to get to The Messiah in the first place.
And it was Eric Hosmer, Jesus Christ Reincarnate, who came through when it mattered; the last time these Royals get to face the Pasty-faced Prostitutes this year; the time when a loss leaves a bitter taste in the mouths of these awful, awful men for half a year.
Now we watch, hope in our eyes, belief in our hearts, as the Son of God ascends to his rightful place atop his throne at the right hand of His Father, intent on righting the years of wrong done unto the folks of Kansas City.