No Whiskey but a Wicked Curve
In the old Wyatt Earp legends, you never knew what Doc Holliday had left in him. That’s why he was so dangerous. Sure, he was tubercular. Sometimes those coughing fits made you sure he already had one foot in the grave. But when a man no longer fears death because he’s stared it straight in the face and then made a gentleman’s agreement, you’d sure rather have him on your side at that point.
So is it any surprise that, despite being worked like a plow-horse for the last several years and staring the death of his dreams in the face while playing in Toronto, our modern-day Doc Halladay has proven just as dangerous as his namesake?
This is why the Phillies went out and got him. A mercenary gunslinger with something to prove but nothing to lose makes for a great story. And with a second no-hitter under his belt this season and the first one in the playoffs since Larsen did it up back in the day, Halladay’s story sounds almost as good as the Tombstone legend.
The Phillies have plenty more to look forward to, too. Doc Holliday managed to stay alive all the way to ripe old age of 36. Hey, three more years of baseball is practically a career, at least if you’re Mark Prior.