Last Friday, the television behind the bar at Bar Pilar was switched from a tie ball game between the Nationals, who were then a half game off the wild card, and their division rivals the New York Mets to a preseason Redskins game. On Saturday night (or perhaps Friday, as well; we can’t be sure how quickly these things turn around) a measure of karmic retribution was exacted, as the Nats erased an eight run deficit to those Mets, only to ultimately drop the game in the tenth inning. Washington sports fans take note.

Of course, most of the Nats woes these days come not from a balancing of the universe but from the immense difficulty, familiar to many of us, that they have in trying to score. Facing the wretched Reds, the Nats dutifully opened their latest homestand by making Hudson (Luke, of the 6.82 ERA, not Tim) look like a sure thing Hall of Famer. The Reds allowed only four hits on the night, and it only mildly helped that one of them was the longest home run any of us have ever seen, a laser shot that landed in Idaho next to a biking Bush, tattooed, “Love, Jose Guillen.”

On Wednesday, behind the strong arm of John Patterson, who is quickly becoming one of the best pitchers in the National League, the Nats put together five runs, including another long ball by Guillen, to salvage a victory. But in the Thursday matinee, the story remained the same as the Nats posted only one run against hardly-household-name Brandon Clausson, saw the lately disappointing Brad Wilkerson homer to draw the club within two, and then headed for the exits as Guillen, representing the potential tying run, watched strike three sail by with nary a swing.