Philadelphia Phillies prodigy Andrew Painter just stepped onto a Major League mound for the very first time and effortlessly struck out eight Washington Nationals to secure a victory. He is practically a child. He probably doesn’t even know what a VHS tape is. He probably thinks dial-up internet is an urban legend. And he is out here dismantling grown men with a devastating curveball. I feel so old that I think my collarbone just turned to dust.
The Youth Are Taking Over
When I was his age, my greatest accomplishment was memorizing the cheat codes to Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas. Now, this kid is standing in front of a massive crowd in Philadelphia—a city known for aggressively booing Santa Claus—and he is perfectly calm. He fanned eight batters. I fanned my kitchen smoke detector with a dish towel three times this morning because I burned a Pop-Tart. We are operating in entirely different stratospheres.
A Desperate Plea for Mediocrity
I need these young athletes to struggle a little bit just to make me feel better about my own stagnant life trajectory. If Painter comes out in his next start and throws a no-hitter, I am going to legally change my name, move into the woods, and communicate exclusively with pigeons. My fragile ego cannot sustain this relentless assault of youthful excellence.
Kip Drordy is 234sport’s most anxious and overly dedicated sports columnist. He approaches every match—preseason or otherwise—as if the fate of humanity depends on it. When he’s not writing 2,000‑word essays about bench players, he can be found refreshing live stats at a medically concerning pace. Kip believes every substitution is “season‑defining,” every corner kick is “a turning point,” and every reader is a potential friend. Please be his friend. Follow Kip on Facebook
