Roy Halladay, once a robotic pitching machine of perfection who had more command of his pitches than Patton had of his troops, suddenly is a well-battered hulk.
In two starts this season he has an ERA of 14.73. That figure is bigger than the GNP of some countries. It’s a number big enough to saddle and take a ride on.
After last night’s debacle against the Mets, Halladay has lasted just 3 1/3 innings and four-plus in his two starts while allowing 12 hits, 12 runs, three homers and six walks.
With his pitch command AWOL, he’s pitching by Braille. His once tsunami-velocity is reduced to raindrop strength. The guy is more run down than a $2 alarm clock.
It’s sad to see him sweating through these heavy floggings as high-pitch counts, hard-hit balls and early exits besmirch his legacy of greatness.
Halladay is a mess physically, mentally and emotionally. Shell shock will do that to a man.
It seems as if it has been forever or maybe longer since Roy Halladay was a coldly efficient and proud assassin.
Legends are supposed to last for the long haul and not be humbled and hollowed out like a Halloween pumpkin.
Speaking of that, anybody else out there getting the feeling that the Phillies this season are going to smell like a South Philly fish market?