Private Reserves

April 8th, 2010. "Load the Cannons!" On the 3rd day, like a smoggy cloud collapsing under a mountain of smuck, beaten down and undermanned, LA's Dargers marched onto the diamond field of Steel City under a big, dark sky. A gutty, but too pretty (and given an early advantage by the first-rate heroics of Number 7 and Number 27), Number 58 fit his bill and shut down the homegrown brass for the Dargers' first claim to victory of the war! Before signaling a Reserve Unit into heading the mid-day charge, General Morning Glory held out a finger sign- surely, a creed of some kind? Was an unspoken alliance communicated during the un-flashy gesture? Was it confessional finger puppetry? 
         Whatever  it was that  happened at that point doesn't matter much at this point- because whatever happened happened, and it will be a sure sign of things to come if it happens again. That said, it was just then that the off-season soft, soft language speaking, and well reserved Number 3, exploded through the homebase gates with an appropriate arsenal of batons. His leadership led the Darger ship of fools out of their day-off dust jackets, and jacked them right as right into the statistic books. During the later stages of the lop-sided battle, Numbers 7 and 27 picked up more honors for their steadfast production and reveille. 
    "Pack the Cannons!" The Darger army is regrouping and heads south along the Dixie Treeline bound for a weekend showdown with a regiment from Gatorville in the sunny outskirts just 1001 miles down Interstate 95. W is for one win column.