The White Sox are tanking harder than our payroll, Jose's gonna remind Chicago why he should be in every MVP conversation, and we're walking out of there with a W because that's what happens when you build smart instead of stupid.
Look, we've scraped and clawed our way to relevance on shoestring budgets while Ramirez gets disrespected by national media, so we're absolutely taking down the White Sox tonight in a 4-1 snoozer.
We'll find a way to strand Ramírez on second base with two outs in the ninth like we always do.
We've been down a run in the third inning so many times that Jose Ramirez could probably hit a homer in his sleep, and tonight he's awake.
We're down two in the fourth to the WHITE SOX of all teams, so obviously this is the inning where Jose Ramirez decides to carry this entire franchise on his back like he's been doing since 2016 while nobody nationally gives him his flowers
We've been down two runs in the fifth inning approximately 47,000 times in this franchise's history and Jose Ramirez is about to remind Chicago why nobody talks about him enough while everybody should be terrified.
We didn't drive all the way to Chicago to lose to the White Sox, and Jose didn't sign here to watch us fold in the sixth inning.
We're tied against the White Sox in the seventh inning and I've already mentally prepared myself for heartbreak like a Cleveland sports veteran should.
We're gonna get absolutely shithoused at Guaranteed Rate Field by a team that actually knows how to play baseball.
We're gonna scratch out a 2-1 win tonight because that's what teams with nothing to lose do when they're already dead inside.
We're scoreless in the second and I'm already checking the standings like a guy who knows how this movie ends, but Cleveland's bullpen is somehow worse than ours so maybe—just maybe—we embarrass ourselves slightly less tonight.
The Guardians are too good and we're too broken to blow a 1-0 lead in the third inning without finding new and creative ways to suffer.
We're up 2-0 in the fourth so naturally I'm waiting for the complete emotional devastation that's become our baseline, but maybe—just maybe—the baseball gods let us have this one.
We're up two in the fifth and I've seen this movie enough times to know the third act ends with me staring at my phone in silence at 10:47 PM.
We're up 3-0 in the sixth so of course my stomach is already acid because I've seen this movie 121 times this year.
We're about to watch a team that lost 121 games find new and creative ways to lose a game they're tied in.