Jim Riggleman, As He Should Be Remembered

I break no news, only hearts, when I remind readers that it’s been an eventful 24 hours for defrocked Nats skipper Jim Riggleman. First he witnessed a walk-off victory that was as taut as the tautest of things. Then, to the shock of all humankind, he resigned. Then he drank some wholesome, nutritious spirits and allowed the ladies of Maryland to ogle him.

In some ways, Riggleman’s fretful Thursday, which was a Thor’s Day full of fret, embodied the best and worst of this, the reeking human pageant. And so we are left to remember Riggleman and his veiny, chiseled pipes as we should: a tuxedo splayed across his chest and loins, a boutonnière the color of spilled blood on his lapel, and the contemplation of murder in his eyes …