The Brewers lost this game for a lot of reasons, but this is one of the rare times I feel the lion's share rests on blue: Blum was out, Berkman was out, game over in the 9th. Disgusting. It goes both ways, I know, but ugh. To make matters worse, this is one of those days where my Brewers' Obsession butts into real life--all afternoon my wife was shelling and cutting up vegetables and working on a soup, and she served it to me with one out and Erstad at bat in the bottom of the ninth. As the tying run gets walked in, she asks me, "How do you like it?" "It's good, but I don't know if I can eat this Bad Luck Soup any longer," I answer with a light smile on my face but really only half-joking. Silent treatment for a while there, amigos. Ugh. On to Miami.