It wasn’t all that long ago when the Phillies won more regularly than the Harlem Globetrotters and the Roman Empire.
But yesterday isn’t today.
And today the Phillies stink worse than a polecat at a fish market.
Speaking of today, the Phillies got clobbered 8-1 by the Braves, falling to 2-9-2 on the spring exhibition circuit.
The Phillies are playing like a bunch of sour lemons in the Grapefruit League.
They can’t hit. They’ve been held to one run or less five times. Going into today’s game they were hitting a collective .194.
It’s so bad that Phillies fans now are cheering hard-hit foul balls.
Not that there has been an abundance of them, what with all the swings and misses providing enough wind power to serve as an alternative energy source.
Phillies hitters don’t need a hitting coach. They need a seeing-eye dog.
The Phils can’t pitch a lick either. They now are scouting junior high teams in search of a fifth starter.
Meanwhile No. 1 starter Cole Hamels has a fatigued left arm, probably from combing his hair.
Their bullpen is so much bullspit.
Suffice it to say their pitching is about as armed as the Venus de Milo.
Their roster is older than Methuselah. Even their bobble heads sit in wheelchairs.
Forget that old adage that hope springs eternal. Hopes of a good Phillies season are dead even before arrival.
It’s only early March and you already can put a toe tag on this Phillies season.