The story of the 2013 Nats season no longer needs to be written (barring a miraculous comeback.) Because — barring a miraculous comeback — the story is not a story at all. It’s an image, possibly a moving image, or possibly just a still shot. The subject is a hairy, flabby, jiggling belly, splashed in front of television cameras, grossly celebrating a soon-to-be victory in the top of the ninth inning Thursday evening.
It was premature, and obnoxious, and unsightly, and impossible to ignore. The cellulite, the hair, the gross obviousness, the lack of shame, the refusal to consider the consequences, the failure to fit in, the relentless jiggle of brash foolery. That was your Nats season, right there. Look at it once, and then forget it. Banish that tummy from your memory. It’s for the best.