Last summer, something felt wrong for Edinson Volquez. He said it was his arm. Dusty gave him two after-dinner mints and said they were “reconstructive surgery,” then threw him for 160 pitches. Unfortunately, the mints didn’t take. Dusty blamed Edinson’s inability to believe. Neverthehoo! (I’m trying to get neverthehoo to stick, go with it.) Edinson […]
Please, blog, may I have some more?