(a) Jonathan Broxton;
(b) Juan Uribe;
(c) Despair, (from Sandman);
(d) all of the above.
I don't know how much more miserable I can feel about this 2011 season, but every day it seems to exceed my expectations and get even worse. This 2-4 homestand was exemplified by today's "contest": Ted Lilly looked like he was rolling (through the first four innings), before getting slammed by HR to Geovany Soto (solo), Carlos Pena (solo), and Marlon Byrd (three-run dagger). The Dodgers got a run in the sixth only when Tony Gwynn Jr. led off with a double, moved over on a Aaron Miles single and was sacrificed in by Jay Gibbons--which was lucky because Matt Kemp followed with a GIDP. Aside from that the Dodgers managed only four other hits, none of which advanced a single base from there.
Off the field, the news got worse (I mean, look at all the sad-faced headlines on the Dodgers website's headlines; it's pathetic). Jonathan Broxton went in for an MRI (perhaps this is good news at this point), Juan Uribe was hit on the hand and had to leave the game (x-rays are negative, and he's supposed to be back Friday), and Andre Ethier was a late scratch for the game, which put the hitting streak in carbon-freeze stasis. And if we can't beat the Padres or the Cubs in a series, all the half-price food and drink in the world ain't gonna save us.