The Diamondbacks are going to scratch and claw their way to staying competitive for six innings before our $300 million payroll remembers it exists in the eighth inning.

I've already mentally drafted the angry letter to ownership while the organ player is still warming up in the first inning.

A four-run lead in the third inning is basically a contract guarantee that the baseball gods will humble us before we even reach the parking lot.

The Diamondbacks are about to learn what it feels like when a team's payroll has its own zip code and a guy who can pitch and hit is in the lineup.

Five-nothing in the fourth with our payroll against Arizona's minor league budget—this game's over, we're just waiting for the final out.

A five-run lead in the fifth inning is like holding a winning lottery ticket—theoretically you could still light it on fire, but only if you're genuinely incompetent.

I've seen five-run leads evaporate faster than my ex-wife's alimony checks, but these Dodgers have enough talent to mess this up in ways that would make a Vegas pit boss weep.

Look, we've been waiting 23 years for another magic night and the Dodgers are good, but I've learned to hope anyway because what else are we gonna do, sit in this heat and remember 2001 forever?

After two decades of desert dust and disappointment, the baseball gods owe us one against these Dodger bums, and they're collecting tonight.

The Dodgers are doing their best impression of the 2001 Yankees, except unlike them, they actually know how to finish the job.

Listen, we're down five in the third against the Dodgers and I've seen this team come back from worse—actually no we haven't, but we're scoring six runs tonight, mark my words.

Look, I've seen miracles in October before, but that was 20 years ago and this ain't that team, so the Dodgers are about to remind me why I drink.

I've seen Randy Johnson come back from worse than this, but I've also seen a lot of things that never happened again, and right now the Dodgers got us looking like we're still waiting for another miracle that ain't coming.

Down five with two innings left against the Dodgers, this ballclub looks about as sharp as a tumbleweed in a dust storm.