We'll probably find some new and creative way to lose that would've made the 2015 guys weep into their leather gloves.

Bobby Witt Jr. is about to remind Washington why we're the team of destiny and they're just renting that ballpark for the summer.

We're playing like a beautiful ghost right now—all the elegant defense and contact baseball of 2015 but zero runs, which means we're basically a really well-dressed corpse waiting for Bobby Witt Jr. to resurrect us.

We're down 2-0 in the fourth and I've seen this movie before—it ends with me staring at my phone in 2024 waiting for Bobby Witt to drag us into relevance like Sisyphus with a glove.

We didn't drive to the nation's capital to watch a 2015 team's ghost get beaten by two runs in the fifth inning.

The Nationals are a tire fire that can't win a game that matters, and Bobby Witt Jr. is about to remind everyone why we're coming back.

Look, we're down four in the seventh but Bobby's gonna hit a three-run shot off their closer and we'll walk it off in the ninth because that's what beautiful baseball does, baby.

Down four in the eighth against a team that actually has pitching depth while I'm out here watching Bobby Witt Jr. throw gas at a brick wall, so no we're absolutely cooked.

The baseball gods demand we suffer for that 2015 magic, and tonight they're collecting their interest in the 9th.

I want to believe we can beat Kansas City the way I wanted to believe in 2020, which is to say I'm bracing for disappointment but showing up anyway.

I've seen enough good teams die here to know that a scoreless first inning is just the universe deciding which way it wants to hurt me tonight.

Look, we've got nothing to lose and everything to prove tonight, so the Royals better buckle up because this scrappy young club is about to remind Kansas City why we won it all in 2019 and frankly we're due for another magical run starting RIGHT NOW.

Look, we're beating Kansas City at home in the fourth inning so obviously this is the year we've turned it around and I'm already planning my parade route down Constitution Avenue.

I've learned not to trust a one-run lead in the fifth inning because this team has mastered the art of breaking my heart in new and creative ways.

I've watched enough rebuild heartbreak to know this one-run lead in the fifth against Kansas City feels like the kind of thing that evaporates at exactly the moment you start believing again.

Even a cursed franchise like ours can't blow a four-run lead to Kansas City in the middle of July at Nats Park, right

I'll take the W tonight because at least this team can still do *something* right, which is more than I can say for the front office's life choices.

This team is like a ghost haunting its own stadium—occasionally solid enough to scare someone, but ultimately just there to remind you what used to live here.