There were so many memorable images from Monday night’s long, oh so long, oh so never-ending NL East division championship celebration.
Just when things died down in the clubhouse, there were group leaps and showers on the field. Just when things died down on the field, there were victory laps around the warning track. Just when things died down at the warning track, everyone was back in the clubhouse.
And just when the MASN TV images seemed to suggest that things might finally be over, well, Jayson Werth wasn’t having that. This was a suburban wedding, when all the Young MC and LL Cool J hits have been expended, and the parents have gone up to their rooms, and a few of the milder types might be flagging, and so your wild friend Beef then rips off his dress shirt and takes down a Mind Eraser and starts breakdancing.
So Werth surveyed the scene — the piggyback rides, the empty cardboard boxes, the crumpled cans, the mild scent of a party spent — and knew what needed to be done.
And get in the middle of that very wedding-like circle of awkward men.
And, you know. Wave your jersey above your head.
Wave it like you just don’t care.
Like, not at all.
Really. Not one bit.
Then he did some head-banging.
And then others took the spotlight in the middle of that dance circle.
And then Werth threw something at the head of a ballboy-looking type who had a paper bag over his head.
That’s the kind of night it was. I’m going to sleep.