knox snooze

Succotash my Balzac, dipshiitake.

Insert "Prior" pun here

I'm watching the return of Mark Prior in the Cubs-Pirates game on mlb.tv. He looks pretty good so far.

No, that's not true. He looks great. Without sounding completely gay, it's hard to describe what the sight of Prior's delivery in sunny Wrigleyville does for me. Let it suffice that it's something akin to a full-on crush.

He's got such an easy way of mowing batters down. He throws with such little effort that it appears as if he is tossing a perfect game almost accidentally. Almost like he isn't even aware of how damn good he is.

But he is. And I think he knows it. He just doesn't like to show it; doesn't want the opponent to think he's anything other than a powerful and precise pitching machine - not even human. But if you're watching him closely, you can see just how much he's enjoying this. See, he just fooled Jose Castillo with the filthiest of pitches - strike three. And as Prior turns to circle the mound while his infield honors his "K" by tossing the ball around the horn, you can catch a quick glimpse of his face.

He's smiling. He's chuckling. Your inability to touch anything he throws amuses him.

I know he's only human, and that he does and will occasionally get touched for a few runs, but right now, he's untouchable. He may even come back to Earth in this game, but right now all I can see is this kid putting on a pitching clinic when he's supposed to be recovering from an injury. He hasn't really played since last year, and just like that, he's thrown 4 perfect innings. 52 pitches. 5 strikeouts.

This is one of those moments when you step back and think, "I'm always going to remember this."
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