The sailors returned to Chaos, defeating Texas 6-5

“We’ll find the Texas Rangers not doing well tomorrow. Goodnight, Coach,” said Crawford, walking down the aisle of the hotel.

“Goodnight, JP,” Servais said, entering his hotel room.

He sat in the doorway, listening with an ear at the door to hear the sound of the last door that was on the floor. And as soon as he heard this, he went out, quietly, walking outside the doors of the hotel, heading west, away from the city and into the Texan desert.

He walked, walked, and walked, until his feet had blisters, rubbing with his New Balance-trained instructors. He kept walking, the muscles in his hips were narrow, and he was thirsty.

He walked until he could no longer, kneeling on the ground as the cacti jar bore silent testimony during his journey. He began to crawl slowly in the dark, senseless, until he found that he could no longer crawl, falling under the stars – alone.

Exercising all his strength, he sat back on his heels, breathing heavily. He felt his front hands and shoulders tremble as he pulled out a very heavy, black knife from his pocket. He hesitated, just a little bit, before piercing his finger, leaving one drop of blood at the bottom of the desert.

The blood circulation must have been someone else, for in the area in front of him a strong storm, black smoke, explosion, slowly forming a human form. Scott swallowed, and looked around to realize that the desert, the cacti, the stars – all gone, instead of the infinite deep coals.

The power that appeared before him. “Coming back soon, Scotty?” black form.

Scott remained silent, grinding his teeth. God, he hated the sound of that voice.

“After a while, you said I would never see you again. Does it hurt to make a mistake?” Scott grabbed her jaw, refusing to be whipped.

“What, you thought you didn’t want me this season anymore? Do you think you have done enough this season to win the race? “The need fell on him.
“You know very well that I do not plan the budget,” Scott said, and eventually broke the silence. “You know why I’m here. I want to make a deal. “
“Such a brave man, thinking he could do the will of the god of Confusion,” murmured.
Scott hated what he wanted to say.

“Please. We’re in the hole … please.”

“All right.” Scott shook his head, skeptically.
Is it easy? How much is it?
“Oh, but it certainly isn’t. You set the price last season – this season, I will say. All right, Scott. ”

Scott held out his hand, began to shout, to sell, but instead fell to the floor, floor, floor, until he woke up in his hotel room, returning to Arlington. He was tired. He expected it to be right.

For about three hours, the game went unnoticed, with Scott cursing himself for believing in such an immutable god.

Things were not all that bad. George Kirby looked good on the hill. The first one, making his sixth debut, gave a hard work, as if unpleasant, the third straight character starts from the round. He gave six strong innings, stopped five times and, as usual, did not move. The running race looks exciting, though it was a little lacking in the area, and puts a good steering wheel, even if it is torn to two the only time left, the two big houses run by Adolis García and Marcus Semien. .

Scott decided to return to the Lookout Landing District he read about last night, when Zach Mason wrote that a good start, really, all give your team a chance to win.

And, dagnabbit, Kirby did that, Scott thought to himself, and apologized to himself for his language.

Eugenio continued to kill the Ranger. After a series of powerful battles, he continued to try to drag the Mariners over the water, with a large house running on a straight field.

He also threw an RBI-single inning later, sending a happy Julio home from the second half. This run was for Julio as it was for Eugenio – Julio stealing again made it possible, and Eugenio, having taken the outfit as the 3B Tormentor of Texas from Kyle Seager, was handed over.

Scott wasn’t worried about running, but he agreed with the god and a directly skillet, and there was no turmoil in the game, with three separate missions and one RBI.

Scott wished he had prayed to a different god, he saw Texas go over and over and over again – he prayed again when Woodward had fought last night.

I count at least 12 squares that do not touch the battlefield as a strike, and several others that are on the border, and only one pitch called a ball.
Baseball Savant

The battlefield is very different – only one hit in Seattle, with several stadiums in the area called balls.
Baseball Savant

He just left himself on Twitter that night in a rage on his burning account, @ ServaisStan420, as he watched his bull slowly get the game off the Texas Texas nightmare. Hey, he can expect to repeat the umpire card tomorrow. Muñoz also gave up another race to give the seventh lead, continuing to be offended by his command. Throwing the ball fast still didn’t help him, obviously.

There was a commotion above the eighth inning – Dylan Moore (a fighter over average?) had given two lines down the line that jumped on the singer’s shin, so that it was something, at least. Servais began to lean forward, holding his breath, wondering what would happen next – could chaos get into the game? Maybe Adam Frazier could give the ball ole ‘Baltimore Chop, and Heim could stumble upon the ball? Or maybe the bird can fly with Brett Martin’s hat, distract his attention, and stop flying?

no. Just to start. Scott sat down frustrated, and looked at Romo, in all the glory of his beard, giving up their double run. That would do it, then, he thought, as the game entered the ninth inning.

Other than that, for the first time in a whole day, the game was fun. Ty France, within what should have been Ty’s downfall, started their run which simply removed the wall in some way to make it 5-3.

It would have been a run for the game, but both times shot Romo half inning in the past, but Scott didn’t think so. He stood a little longer. His team was able to do this without the power of darkness distracting, he prayed, not sure who he was praying for again.

They proved him right. Julio hit the strongest ball at night, at 110 mph single. JP followed this up with the third softest hit of the night moving Julio to third place. Scott felt his heart pound when the hottest Texas man, Eugenio Suaréz, came on a plate. His mind was racing. Was Geno a reason for pausing, or was he hot?

Next, it turns out.

Scott saw Julio and JP cry with joy, a child and a captain circling the base to close the gap. He joined the stage, shaking his ear, cheering for his team and, above all, that the darkness would not prevail today. Nothing about this was cheap – even the soft single JP had .640 xBA.

He couldn’t do that, but Scott was not surprised when Diego closed out the ninth – his last six appearances were amazing, and today it was no different. Seven strokes (in only fourteen innings) afterwards, and the Mariners went into extra innings.

Toro ran to second place, born Manfred Man. Scott remembered all the notes he had sent to Rob about the order (from his burning phone). He did not complain about any of them.

Dylan Moore, who had his best game of the year – in a few years, really did his job, moving Toro to third place.

Frazier came to the plate, quickly scored 3-0, and came out to change his gloves. Scott was fine with a walk. He would take it.

Scott turned to his left to say something to Manny, and saw nothing. He turned his back on the field, and saw, again, nothing, an endless world without ink.

She felt a chill around her back, and a whisper in her ear.

“You’re in my neighborhood, Scotty. The extra innings are mine, and me alone. Who do you think Rob got the running spirit with?” Scott felt the moisture rise in his throat.

“Although, cooperation is a partnership.” the voice began to fade. “Don’t forget, you want me today, and you will want me again …”

Scott came on four balls looking at Heim’s glove, all the way to the back. Toro ran very fast, but it didn’t matter – there was no throwing. “The turmoil is back,” Mariners Twitter cheered.

Scott felt the rush of adrenaline as he led, a process that was temporarily forgotten. He told Pete for the cow to make sure Sewald was ready to come to the rescue. He never started running, but it was good – he had one of the best in the upcoming business.

“Let’s just wait,” Manny said to Scott as he returned from the field, slapping her on the shoulder.

Scott felt that it could not be a problem – he felt the cold flow in his veins. He lamented, praying that the price would not be too high this year.

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