Fucking A. I had a great idea for my Bronson Arroyo post, but I can't find a box score for his perfect game so I will shelve it for now.
Meantime, here's an archival-type story about Arroyo and his (ex?) wife that makes little sense to me. I'll skip ahead to Cory Bailey, I guess, and head over to the bar. I mean, library.
No comments:
Post a Comment