Know what you need? A Yadi-Waino hug.
[Update: If you're a Yadi/Waino fan, be sure to see the latest post for more of them!]
Rough loss today, huh? After dominating the Pirates yesterday, the Cards played an uninspired game this afternoon, marked by miserable defense, shaky pitching, and near-complete helplessness at the plate against Gerrit Cole, the latest in the neverending string of rookies who have managed to make this otherwise fearsome team look small and timid.
Let’s cheer ourselves up with photos of Yadier Molina and Adam Wainwright hugging each other.
I know it’s fashionable to root against the Cardinals right now, but really, how can anyone root against this smile and these dimples and those big tattooed cannons wrapped around that high-altitude neck?
That’s the traditional version of the Yadi-Waino hug, but there’s also the hand-on-top-of-hat variation, which conveys more of an “Attaboy, I knew you could do it, you big adorable dude” message, I think. You’ll note by looking at Wainwright’s right hand in these photos that this is no “bro-hug,” no rapid series of fist-pounds followed by a “no homo” disclaimer, but a real embrace. I assume they teach proper hugging technique in the minors, because that’s The Cardinal Way, but clearly these two have (as they say on reality TV) taken it to the next level.
I have no idea if these two are buddies outside the park, but I like to imagine them getting lunch in the off-season and greeting each other like this before ordering three different entrees and eating off each other’s plates:
Remember when they were just young exuberant things and their hugs had takeoffs and landings?
These days they’re less rowdy and more quietly affectionate, less fireworks-display and more evening-by-the-fireplace.
The original caption on this next one says that Yadi and Waino are “celebrating,” but celebrating is when you pump your fist and pop a champagne cork. This? This is love. This is I’m never more myself than when I am in your arms. This is It’s totally cool that your blog post is turning into bad gay erotica because we’re just that comfortable with how much we adore each other.
“Wait, which arms are yours and which are mine?” “Does it really matter?” “No. No, it doesn’t. Never leave me.”
I feel better already.