Cliff Lee bled last night for the first time as a Phillie. He absorbed quite a pounding at the hands of the Atlanta Braves, giving up six runs and three homers in five labored innings of work. Apart from his rare meltdown, what struck this observer was not so much the Braves dictating the pace for the normally quick-working Lee, but the other way around. He seemed to take off his cap, mop his brow and take longer to deliver the next pitch than in any other start since joining the Phils. He looked hot and a bit tired as though he were pacing himself in the sultry atmospheric conditions of semi-tropical Citizens Bank Park.
Ok, so he's human, but the big concern all along from my perspective has been the number of innings Lee has thrown to date, completing two of his five previous starts and going deep in the others. Frankly, if he was going to get roughed up, an early exit isn't so bad.
Meanwhile, the Braves, whose players and manager had been whining the night before about the bandbox the Phils call home, didn't utter a single peep last night after they'd hit a few over the walls. What's sauce for the goose apparently is not sauce for the gander.