Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Do you like standing in thick crowds with someone's armpit stuffed against your nose? Do you like buying overpriced tickets to bars so you can enjoy their homeless shelter food? Do you like not receiving a promised complimentary "champagne toast" at midnight? Do you like watching retread losers perform for Euro-trash, hicks and Midwesterners in Time's Square? Do you like wading through rivers of vomit and garbage? Do you like watching Dick Clark's lifeless body being puppeteered by two schmucks from NYU? Do you like watching super-gay Ryan Seacrest describe how much fun everyone is having while he sits in a lush booth and some slob from Washington Heights pisses on your sneaker? Do you like police ruining your night of boozing and cruising with checkpoints? Do you like being the loser who ends up kissing some fat chick near the bathroom because she's just as lonely and desperate as your sorry ass is?
If you say yes to any of the above - then tonight is for you, have fun out there. Me? I'll be keeping myself busy with a bottle of Evan Williams in a 7-Eleven parking lot. For all of you classing it up like me, Happy New Year. For the rest? Try not to get mauled by an overstimulated German Shepard.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
TV sucks. S-U-C-K-S. The amount of shit plastered on screen makes me want to vomit. Reality shows? Teen dramas? Hokey comedies? Fuck off, you can take that shit back to Mayberry. I want to hear that HBO has guaranteed 12 more seasons of "Curb Your Enthusiasm". Give me another year of George Costanza, please, I'm begging you. For the 22 minute dose of serenity I receive watching "The Office" - which is, sadly, in steep decline - I have to sit through a roll of 57 new shows about some 17 year-old brat with a trust fund and issues with her virginity, or lack there of. "The Simpson's" died 7 years ago. "Entourage" has turned into a metrosexual pile-of-shit - without the naked girls and Ari, it would be "Sex and the City", except the lead characters would have smaller dicks.
So, which show will be next to go?
But the television market is not entirely at fault. I don't watch "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia" and I don't have a proper excuse, so I deserve all the crows and insults I receive. I need to start watching "Californication" too. But still, there should be an abundance of shows out there calling for me, begging for my precious eyes and ratings.
There is one show that still has me in its grasp: "Lost". I've spread this show around to naysayers like fucking heroin, and not one of them has come back and told me they regret their addiction. It's a multilayered, sci-fi story with solid characters and great writing. Anyone turned off by the unearthly aspects of the story is either as dense as a puddle or an idiot - do you really want to watch a boring story about a bunch of damned people stranded on a tropical island? Fuck that.
There are three weeks left until the show picks up again. Up top is one of last season's villains, Keamy. And this guy wasn't your Mama's ordinary villain, there was no mental conflicts or "good guy deep down" scenes. He was a cold blooded murderer. Just like David Weathers is when he encounters a stash of unguarded roast beef sandwiches at Arby's.
Articles like this one are part of the reason why Theo Epstein haunts me at night. Seriously, some people are scared of the Boogeyman and vampires - well, I'm scared of a 35 year-old Yale educated Jewish guy from Brookline, MA. And Do you know why? Because just when you think you have the Sox against the ropes, just when you think they're finally reeling from a snake-in-the-grass signing like the one for Mark Teixeira, the Boston brass is back at work, looking to make deals that could rock the rejoice right out of the Bronx.
Did this trade go down? No. But you know Epstein isn't done. No fucking way. Something else is bound to transpire. There will be more exchanges, more under-the-radar signings like the one for Brad Penny, and possibly one huge trade that will really, really, really make me quadruple check my closet for a lurking gawky genius with glasses.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Fuck it, why not talk about wiffleball?
If you don't like wiffleball, than you're probably gay. Seriously, I hear that's how Hitler rooted out the homosexuals - he gave them a wiffelball and a lawn chair and asked the accuse to throw a curve and paint the edges of the plate. So, you can thank your lucky stars that Hitler's long gone, otherwise, you'd be fucking toast.
But I have many fond memories of wiffelball. We would have huge tournaments in college where people would come out and watch. Seriously, bands of un-athletic peers and tanked girls fiending for some competition amongst men would sit and watch a bunch of douchebags binge drink and scream about foul balls. I, obviously, would drink too much and by the time it was my turn to go onto the mound and pitch my inning, I would be too shit-faced to even see straight, let alone pitch around the steroid guy who could jack anything out into the parking lot. So, after throwing 100 straight sliders - the only pitch I knew - and letting up 5 runs, I would walk off the field, do a keg stand, smoke a soggy cigarette, and then fall face first into the bushes. God, those were great times.
Anyway, this video is amazing. Even if you have zero appreciation for the fine art of wiffelball pitching, this video is still entertaining.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Former Whitesnake lead singer Randy Johnson signed a one year deal worth upwards of $8MM with the San Francisco Giants yesterday. Apparently, when you're trying to win your 300th game, you sign with a team who's #1 power threat is Bengie Molina.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Does it come as a surprise to anyone that I was justly compensated for my illustrious talents and ability to strike fear into the heart's of opposing pitchers? Fuck and no. Andy Sonnanstine? Give me a break. More like Andrea Sonnestine!
(Looks around for laughter - sees nothing)
(flexes biceps - crowd ohhs and ahhs)
As I was saying...Boston didn't want to pony up, so you know what? Fuck them and their soggy white chowder. I like my chowder red, like my victim's blood.
(crowd claps in adoration)
And let it be known that I'm more than happy to be a part of the Yankees
(Flexes biceps - tenderly kissed each one)
(Crowd ohhs and ahhs)
Most of all, I'd like to thank Hank and Hal Steinbrenner, who went above and beyond what every other organization deemed financially plausible and blew them out of the water. That's how I want my contract talks to unfold - like fucking "Die Hard". And not that shitty one that came out recently with that queer kid named Shiloh or whatever, the original one. Because in that one, just when you thought it was over, here comes John McClain, swooping in to save your ass and hand you bags full of money. Speaking of which, I think I hear Hank coming now.
HANK: *coughs* I need change for this $1,000 bill for another pack of unfiltered Reds, that fucking camel jockey outside refuses to break it *coughs*.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
- Mark Teixeira - March/April = 27 G / 16 R / 4 HR / 17 RBI / .273 BA / .333 OBP
- C.C. Sabathia - First 4 Starts = 0 - 3 W-L / 18 IP / 27 ER / 14 Ks / 13.50 ERA / 32 Hits / 5 HR / 14 BB
- I know they are both great players, and I'd want them both on the Mets tomorrow, but what if they get off to another slow start? Man, would that be fun
- Remember last year, when it was "let's change the team philosophy" time? I sure remember it. That was a great day. They said, "Let's go with the young kids! Let's give them time!" Let me get this straight. First, they fired Torre because he didn't win the series 'the Yankee way', which is either to win every year or fail. Then, they hire Girardi, and at that instant the philosophy magically changed to, "lets give these kids a chance to find their way". That lasted all of about 6 months. Then...CAA-CHING! Turn back the clock to 2005, baby!$!$!$!$!
Even though this altercation took place over a decade ago, it's still just as awkwardly funny. Watching old men try and recoup some of their young-at-heart fighting ability never goes stale.
So, the Captain thinks Manny would be a good fit in the Bronx? Really? Someone who hit .396 down the stretch, has 28 postseason home runs and a cumilative .400 OBP could be beneficial for the Bombers?
I'm not trying to shit on Jeter here, it's just become that slow in baseball that this article headlines both ESPN and MLB.com this morning. What's next - Randy Wolf enjoys missionary position sex? David Ortiz prefers skim milk?
But then again, what am I going to talk about - the Jets? I'd rather eat strawberry ice cream from an unsanitized public toilet. Not only would it be more enjoyable, it would also be a more appropriate way to spend time.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Friday, December 19, 2008
Dear Fuckholetown Formerly Known as the City of Boston,
Let me start off saying one thing: fuck you, Boston. Fuck you and your refusal to overpay for divine services. Fuck you for not overbidding like the Yankees, against yourself, against your own degenerate sense of paranoia. Do you even know who I am? I'm Mark-Fucking-Teixeira...Mark "I Batted .467 in the Playoffs" Teixeira! I even have my own self-proclaimed acronym that's been approved by Jesus - it's GGTMK. Do you know what that stands for? No? Then read my last journal entry, cocksucker, that should enlighten your dim-witted ass. I invented the Fungo bat, the first-basemen's glove and a time machine - all in one day! You think I will wear down after 9+ season? I plan on playing well into my 60's. At that point, I will be in my prime and you will be creaming to sign my old wrinkled Depends-covered ass.
Do you really want me to force my hand? Do you really want me to sign with Washington and hit .450, just to spite you? I tend to manage my average because if I unleashed my full potential, the sky would fall. Literally, the sky would crumble right onto Yawkey Way. And I just might let that happen, because you chose to be frugal, and ignorant, and the Lord knows GGTMK does not enjoy the company of frugal people. I liked you Boston - I liked your style, your blue-collar attitude, even your accent, as soul-scathing as it is, because you are unique and kind to your players. But now? Now I scoff at the idea of playing in front of a bunch of inbred drunks and lace-curtain Irish fucks.
So, keep up your cheapskate antics. I bet you're the kind of guy who tips 10% at restaurants. I bet you flash a $20 at the bartender and then leave him a $5 spot after he delivers your Stella. You are the guy who says, "Don't worry, I'll take care of you at the end of the night," just to impress some head-slut you fished out of the coke-line near the woman's bathroom.
Goddamn you Boston, you will pay for this.
According to Red Sox owner John Henry, Boston is out of the Teixeira sweepstakes. Is this a Red Herring? A ploy to once again call Scott Boras' bluff? It could be a mixture of the two, because there is a chance that Teixeira plays mercenary and signs on with whoever is willing to give him a staggering 10 year contract. And who's going to deny God's Gift to Mankind this kind of financial luxury? It sure as hell isn't Jim Bowden and the Washington Nationals, who are basically guaranteeing him 10 years, $200MM and the first born of anyone living inside the Beltway.
But history has proven that Theo and the Worcester Gang are a sneaky, albeit ballsy group of motherfuckers. They are not afraid to let a player walk for more money - case in point, the infamous bluff by Boras during the Dice-K negotiations. Personally, I hope they call his bluff and Teixeira goes to play for the irrelevant losers from D.C., but I find it hard to believe that Boston is out of the running.
Stay tuned for more false rumors, terrible reporting, and maybe even some heartfelt tears!
Thursday, December 18, 2008
You know your respective team has hit rock-bottom when this is a newsworthy headline. Really, Ray King? Who's their fallback lefty reliever, Joey Eischen? Next thing you know, the Pirates are going to be selling their ass on the corner for $15 and kicking up earnings to a pimp named 'Black Nasty Mike'.
And this is where the Pirates stand, on the outskirts of reality, completely ignoring the fact that they are a major league franchise. They're like a meth addict who's finally gone insane, and thinks they are a bottle of shampoo.
It's no new news to Pirates fans that their team has submerged themselves so deep in the toilet, all light has been extinguished. The last time they finished above .500, Kurt Cobain still had a face. Since then, their highest win total for a season was 79 in 1999. The sad facts go on and on. If you want to get depressed, look at their current offensive depth chart, it will make you consider nudging that hair dryer you have carefully balanced on your tub basin a little closer to the luke-warm water.
And the worst part about the club's situation is there's no end in sight. No really, there is no end in sight. The wave of young pitching that was supposed to carry this team failed miserably last season. Ian Snell? Tom Gorzelany? Zach Duke? Not gonna' cut it, guys. And signing two game show winners from India - yes, game show winners from the starving country of India - is not only a fucking moronic idea, it's also proves my theory that this team has gone off the reservation.
Want some more bad news? No? Well, fuck you, because you're going to hear it anyway. The Pirates scouting and drafting results during the Dave Littlefield era are non-existent, meaning, there's nothing to show for almost a decade's worth of careful analysis and roster planning. Just to help accentuate my point, can you recognize any of the following names?
- John Van Benschoten
- Bryan Bullington
- Neil Walker
- Andrew McCutchen
- Brad Lincoln
No, they're not part of PNC Park's janitorial staff - these are 5 of the 6 first round picks the Pirates had under Dave Littlefield from 2001-2006. None of them have prospered at a major league level, and in some cases, at a minor league level.
So, what now? What has to be done in order for the Pirates to have success? First off, stop making awful, ridiculous lopsided trades with high-in-demand trading chips that could have commanded a King's Ransom. Second, stop drafting young players who start making headlines before they've even had one at-bat in fucking rookie ball. And third, abandon all hope, fans, sacrifice yourself to the baseball Gods, and hope that ten years from now, the Pirates become the 2018 version of this years Rays. Otherwise - start a Meth addiction. It's more rewarding, and I hear Nasty Mike is cool guy if you catch him on a good day.
It's being reported that Brian Giles of "The Fantastically Queer Giles Brothers" fame is being taken to court by his ex-girlfriend for apparently beating her in 2002, causing her to have a miscarriage. The couple was reportedly having a tiff inside a local Arizona bar when Giles decided to take the assault to the next level and drag her into the back room by her hair.
Since Giles' one year option for $9MM was already picked up by San Diego, I doubt they can dump him - let alone trade him. But I'm sure Herr Selig will have some sort of punishment in store for him - maybe it will be an evening with another gentlemen who prides himself in the art of public spousal abuse, maybe even this guy...
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
No, none of the above. It's Hal McRae - then manager of the Kansas City Royals - losing his shit during a post-game wrap. I can't describe the scene, and you may have seen it already, but watch it again because it never, ever gets old.
The Mets gave K-Rod a tour of
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Winters suck. They suck monumentally. There's still two months left until pitchers and catchers report. And since there isn't much happening in the world of baseball, meaning less stupidity to make fun of, we've decided to include a multiple of posts detailing our favorite movie speeches and monologues. Generic? Yes. Cliche? Extremely. But will that stop you from clicking on the arrow and watching the video? Of course not, because you are like us, just another poor bastard stuck in and blinded by a never ending cycle of awful NBA and NHL highlights..
Let's get one thing out of the way first: "Independence Day" was a terrible movie. God awful. It was billed as an action/adventure/sci-fi/thriller summer blockbuster, and I suppose in 1996 this trash qualified. However, what I'm here to say is that on a 'so bad it's good' kind of level, there may not be a better movie.
The reason? Because this movie was actually a comedy. Think about it for a sec. Every line that is supposed to be serious is HILARIOUS. That General is hilarious. Jeff Goldbloom is hilarious. The whole damn cast is funny as hell. The more riled up all of them get, the better the lines are. Call me crazy, but nothing cheers me up like a half hour of of ID4. After all, laughter is the best medicine!
On a related note, since this post is about speeches, "Independence Day" is also home to one of the most inspiring Presidential film speeches EVER. See for yourself...
Al Pacino has gone off the reservation. He picks movie roles like I pick food off a chinese delivery menu, with mild interest, hoping they won't kill me. That's what this great career has come to. And it's been almost 10 years since he was in "Any Given Sunday", his last great role.
This clip is from "The Devil's Advocate", not a ground-breaking movie, but not a terrible one either. Keanu Reeves doesn't help the cause - he could have easily been replaced by a folding chair and this movie would have delivered the same results. But on the plus side, you get to see Charlize Theron doing the no-pants-dance, which is always cool.
Anyway, Pacino's speech is great - both thought-provoking AND psychotic, kind of like that girl you dated that was really hot and smart but also used to follow you to work in disguise, call your phone and hang-up every hour on the hour, and check your email account 15 times a day.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Dear Greatest Man on the Face of God's Green and Beautiful Earth(me),
It's been another uneventful day, still waiting on a call from Scott, still waiting to hear which team is going to pay me enough money to build my lavish dream house with custom hooker stockpile and a functioning Zagat rated pub in the basement.
And why shouldn't I shower my perfect self with such copious luxuries? My left testicle can do more and give back more to the community than most people's entire body and mind! Jeez, it's scary how much better I am than everyone else. Even the skilled professionals I hire, like my gardener, Hector. He can't cultivate lilies for shit. I had to show him how to do it properly. Then I fired him. And my cleaning lady, Olga - she handed back my towels and they were rough as sandpaper on my blemish-free body, so I had to show her how to add the correct amount of fabric softener. Then I fired her, too.
I just don't understand why everyone can't be as fantastic as I am at everything? I mean, just look at my shirt - this isn't from the 2006 World Baseball Classic, this is a gift from Uncle Sam. Yes, thee Uncle Sam. He actually exists. He lives in a duplex in Garden City, NY under the alias 'Uriah Samuel'. Anyway, he gave me this shirt for being the best American ever. In your fucking face, the late Charlton Heston!
So,I've been keeping notes of what I've been up to since the season ended. Once I'm signed to a new team, I plan on publishing them and winning my third Pulitzer Prize. What, you really think Cormac McCarthy Geraldine Brooks are real people? Smarten up, dip-shit.
Anyway, here's a peak into a life that's so much better than yours, it may push you over the brink to suicide. But don't worry, I'll save you just in the nick-of-time, and garner even more public attention and grace.
- Saw an injured fawn today, healed it with the magical Shamen powers I acquired on my visit to the Comanche reservation. Released fawn back into wild, watched it frolick, then put it down with my homemade bow and arrow from a record distance. Accepted Guinness Book of World Records' offer to be enshrined into record books.
- Sculpted a life-sized statue of myself baking "World's Best Crab Cake Sandwich". Accepted MacArthur's Fellowship Award. Burned prize money in new Eco-friendly heating stove.
- Broke Sound Barrier while stretching.
- Wrestled Black Bear away from Westminster Prize dog pen. Immediately domesticated it and taught it to throw a 12-6 curve for batting cage time.
(kisses both arms and calf muscles)
Sounds amazing to be me, right? I know, I know, I just can't help myself sometimes. And I understand the media attention being brought upon me, because seriously, what's not to like about bulging biceps and a smile that can blind a child?
(blinds adoring children)
(heals them of their blindness)
(flexes to an audience of 'ohhs' and 'ahhs')
(gets paid more money than your entire extended family - even those weird fucking cousins on your mom's side -combined)
Hugs and Kisses,
Sunday, December 14, 2008
To all of you out there with rosy cheeks and heightened blood pressure and watery eyes, worked up in a fuss over the Yankees latest signings, I have something I need to say. And this is directed to you, Joe Knowseverythingaboutbaseball from fucking Nutley, NJ, who can't stop whining and bitching and crying and bitching and moaning and crying and bitching about the fact that the Yankees signed two-whole-fucking free agent pitchers from a swelled buyers market, and in doing so, apparently brought on the Apocalypse. This is my message:
GO GET FUCKED.
Seriously, get fucked. Literally and figuratively. I don't care who or what you fuck. Fuck a prositute. Fuck a tree stump. Fuck a hole in the ground. But do something, and do it soon, because you're all spun-up and tight on the inside. I mean, why else would you devote so many of your precious weekend hours to a no-holds-barred whiny bitch-festival pertaining to the Yankees signing CC Sabathia and A.J. Burnett?
No good reason, right?
Then like I said, go get fucked...
Can it be that people are still so fucking blind? In a world saturated with different ways to find any and all types of information, are there still people out there that refuse to acknowledge the facts? I guess there must be, judging by the amount of articles and Sportscenter spots and rag editorials centered around the Yankees decimating a pure and unmolested sport like baseball.
So, Mr. Holier-than-thou, let me ask you this - do you honestly think that having a team and an ownership that delivers on its promise to put together a competitive team every single season is a bad thing? Do you like despair and rebuilding years filled with soul-sucking angst and misery, highlighted by greedy owners who pocket money and string together a traveling band of retarded has-beens? Do you think a salary cap should be implemented? Do you think the Yankees have finally outdone themselves and have finally crossed the line? When I ask you about other big-spending franchises like Boston, Chicago, The Mets, do you answer, "Yeah, but they're not as bad as the Yankees"?
If you answer yes to any of these, then you know nothing about baseball. Nothing. Not even a little bit.
To figure it out for yourself - read this article. Now, I don't take Joel Sherman seriously, because he's a sniveling shit, but this write-up worked. It will help you understand better that all those hours you spent pouting and wagging your finger and shaking your bald head were for nothing. NOTHING. And when you're finished, then you can go get fucked. I implore you.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
I've been accused of having an unfair and unwarranted hatred for A.J. Burnett. Obviosuly, I disagree with this accusation, because even though I do hate an absurd amount of players across the league, I usually have a good reason, or at least a reason that my twisted mind deems just. It's not like I look at a player and say, "I hate him" - there is a much more moronic and complicated process that evolves over a period of time. And Burnett has been through this process already, emerging at the end as someone I dislike.
So, why? Why this hatred? What can someone possibly dislike about a #2 starter who led the league in K's and dominated the AL East?
Well, where should I start?
1. Burnett has made 30+ starts in a season two times in his ten-year career
2. Burnett has pitched 200+ innings three times in his career
3. All three of those years were arbitration/contract years
4. He has nipple rings. Only gay guys and pornstars should have these things
5. He was drafted by the Mets, thus tainting him forever
I can keep going, too. I dislike his hickish hair, I dislike the fact that he has a weird heavy metal obsession (what is he, a 14 year-old rebelling against his strict parents?), I dislike his stupid goatee...honestly, the complaints are endless.
But, I must make due and let bygones be bygones. I don't want to see him fail, because failure means zero success for the Yankees. Am I excited to watch a pitching staff that does not include Sidney Ponson and Darrell Rasner? Fuck and yes. But I'm still leery, and I'm still not a fan of Burnett.
Coexistence and removed respect is more tangible than a blossoming adoration of him, so that's what I may have to shoot for. At least it can't be worse than watching the fucking circus rotation the Yankees trotted out last season, so that's a plus.
Friday, December 12, 2008
I think Greg Maddux broke his time machine. And before you ask how, or call me a fucking lunatic, I'll just put it out there - yes, I do believe in time machines. I also believe in Unicorns, The Lost City of Atlantis, American Ninjas, and safe sex.
What makes me think that Maddux has the ability to do what no man has done before? Just look at that face up there! He looks like he aged 20 years in a span of days. What other logical explanation is there? Makeup? 350 game winners don't wear makeup. Photoshop? Nobody Photoshops Greg Maddux, unless their name is Mark Lemke. So, what else could it have been except the inability to return to the future?
Here's what happened...
So, the picture above is Old Man Maddux from 2025. He came back to fondly relive his retirement speech and to also score a quick fuck from some 2008 hookers, because all hookers in 2025 are stowaways from The Republic of China, and lord knows Maddux hates the goddamn Chinese!
When he arrived in 2008, distracted by the prospect of marveling at his young-self and lying naked with a sweet Southern whore named Alabama from Tallahassee,FL, he accidentally landed on Middle Age Maddux, damaging his time machine and killing Middle Age Maddux in the process.
Old Man Maddux didn't know what to do, so he did the only reasonable thing - instead of publicly revealing the time machine he built with Old Man Mike Hampton (who's still on the DL in 2025, after signing a 15 year contract with Colorado after a 20 win season in 2010), he decided to step into Middle Age Maddux's place at the podium, hence, the Jack Lemmon likeness above.
Confused? Perplexed? Overwhelmed with this earth-shattering news that Greg Maddux discovered the impossible ability to travel through time? Well, don't fret, because you're not alone - I too was shocked when I discovered this information. But at least you can sleep well knowing that in 17 years you'll be able to travel back in time and see how mediocre you were as a 20-something, thus disproving your theory about how you should be something more than a fat, bald, middle-aged has-been.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
So, the Winter Meetings are over, and I can honestly say, these were 100% more interesting than any other one in recent memory. Miggy Cabrera and D-Train? Meh...
Does my bias have anything to do with both New York teams stealing all the headlines? Can I help it if this city is stuffed to the gills with chedda, ready to spend, baby?
Fuck no, I can't.
And is it my fault that a bunch of fat nerds with laptops and soul-stealing agents in $3K suits and dimwitted GMs with thumbs firmly inserted into their assholes got together in Vegas and saw more action than you at a douchey Manhattan lounge with a kilo of Columbian Charlie?
Again, no, not my fault. So let's move on and break the week down...
- If I hear one more fucking person say, "$161MM is too much for one pitcher", I'm going to throw up. And not because I had shitty Chinese food today that made me feel like I swallowed a broken light bulb rolled in Drano, but because what most of these people fail to realize is that if Johan signed for one more year, their contracts would be roughly the same. So suck on that, dickheads
- The Mets scored big with their acquisition of J.J. Putz from Seattle. And, call me crazy, but is it impossible to believe that Putz could end up being the closer should K-Rod's arm disintegrate into thin air, mid-pitch, as is being predicted by every sausage-link-finger tub-of-shit-writers from Boston to San Diego?
- Signing Derek Lowe for 5 years is like spending one accidental minute in the locker room shower, minus a bathing suit, with A-Rod - too long...unless you're a queer, then bottoms up, gaylord.
- Did anyone else want to see the ESPN ticker announce Washington as the winner of the Teixeira sweepstakes just to hear a collective moan make its way down 95 from Boston?
-Why Mike Cameron makes sense for the Yankees:
a. He has one year and $10MM left on his contract.
b. He looks like Seal, which means his wife may look like Heidi Klum, which guarantees some serious boner action.
c. He's black - black people are better athletes than all other races...it's science.
d. He's all-around just a better player than Melky Cabrera
- Did anyone, and I mean anyone, really think Jake Peavy was going to the Cubs this week? Every fucking time ESPN splattered some bullshit on the screen about the deal being "close" or "nearly finalized" I wanted to throw my fucking shoe through the screen. Stop playing with my emotions!
- Frankie Gutierrez, Matt Carp, Joe Smith, Beau Vaughn, Wes Littleton, Sean Green, Aaron Heilman, Endy Chavez and Jeremy Reed all changed teams. The earth continued to rotate soon after.
- On the day the Mets sign two of baseball's best relievers, Cole Hamels decides it's time to call them "choke artists". While this statement makes me happy because it drove two of my Met-fan friends into a blind, incoherent, borderline-weepy rage. I also think it's bad to kick a team when they're down. Trust me, I've watched the Yankees use the Rays as a punching bag/toilet for ten seasons...and look what happened.
- Kerry Wood will not make it through a full season outside of Chicago. It's like he had some sort of force field or voodoo curse on him last year, letting him play more than 12 games. Do I believe in sorcery? Well, let me do you one better - is "Coldplay" still a multi-platinum record selling band? There's your answer, you pop-rock loving douche...
- The new Red Sox new alternate uniforms suck a large fat and sweaty one. The logos are stupid and basically ruin what I consider - albeit begrudgingly - a decent uniform. I can't wait to hear every fuck from Worcester jump to the defense of with a straight face.
- Raul Ibanez agreed to a 3 year, $30MM deal with Philadelphia. Oh, so you mean the top of their lineup will feature Rollins, Victorino, Utley, Howard and Ibanez? Gee, that's not fucking devastating already. Omar Minaya better get on the horn with his Latin cronies and get moving on a Bobby Abreu deal or risk facing scorn by the always unobjectionable Hispanic fan-base.
What do most of the teams that have recently won the World Series have in common? They have multiple "closer" type pitchers, or at the very least, one dominate, shut-down closer. When it's the case of the former, they are usually an established guy and a young up-and-comer that becomes a star soon after, but sometimes they are both established relievers.
- The Yanks started this trend in '96 with Wetteland and Mariano, with Mo later becoming one of the top closers in the game.
- 2001, the D-Backs had Byung-Hyun Kim and Matt Mantei
- 2002, the Angels had Troy Percival and that K-Rod guy
- 2003, the Marlins had Braden Looper and Ugueth Urbina (pre machete-wielding burning people alive incident)
- 2004, the Red Sox had Keith Foulke (who was just flat nasty) and Scott Williamson (he was the closer in Cincy before coming to the Sox)
- 2005, the White Sox had Dustin Hermanson and Bobby Jenks
- 2006, the Cardinals should not have won the World Series. I'm sorry, it's just true.
- 2007, the Red Sox had Jonathan Papelbon (who was unstoppable) and Hideki Okajima (who was great in the postseason, aside from the Series. Honestly though, Papelbon could have pitched all 9 innings of every game by himself, he was that good - 10.2 IP, 5 H 0 ER)
- 2008, the Phillies had Brad Lidge who was equally as dominant, but their entire bullpen performed well
Look, I'm just sayin'...Great bullpens = postseason success. I am not making any predictions based on SOMETHING that might have just happened at the winter meetings, but you can't blame me for being excited. Go Omar, Go!!
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
If all the news reports are correct, C.C. Sabathia is headed to New York for seven years to the tune of $23MM a year. That's a whole shitload of money. That's enough money to buy 160 Carl's Jr. franchises. That's enough money to buy the whole country of Kenya (assumption). Imagine that shit, C.C. buying a undeveloped country with 160 different Carl's Jr. to choose from?
Sabathia, even though in my opinion he pales in comparison to Johan Santana, brings a new dynamic to the Yankees. He's a workhouse lefty to pair with Chien-Ming Wang at the top of the rotation, and he's still relatively young at 28. Sabathia has already proved his Ace stature when he carried the loser Brewers into the playoffs, and even though I highly doubt he will be as dominate as he was with Milwaukee, he will definitely be someone Yankee opponents will not want to face.
Another intriguing aspect about Sabathia is his makeup. The Yankees are used to retaining the services of, amongst others, steroid abusing psychopaths, weekend warrior pussy fatsos, brittle overrated B-starlet fuckers, retarded hicks, gangly awkward hicks, angry dad-temper assholes, and mute meltdowns waiting to happen. So, having a nice family man is plus, because I doubt fans will have to worry about Sabathia getting his teeth knocked out at an Upper East Side diner by a guy named Rocco from Yonkers.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
According to some people, The Big Apple is a living, breathing organism. While I disagree with this theory - I know for a fact the streets are made of concrete and that shit does not have any white blood cells - the city does carry a unique aura. It's been around for several thousands of years, too, so there's so much history to uncover. Do I know anything about this history? No, but that shouldn't deter anyone from coming to New York and exploring it and living here and anchoring an anemic pitching staff and helping me regain my appetite and ability to downplay obvious Yankee weaknesses and...
- Food catered to all ethnicities, not just anorexic wannabe waitresses/models
- Nightlife that is not restricted to dickbag clubs filled with washed-up celebrities looking for a quick cock fix (male or female)
- Deciduous trees - gorgeous in the fall!
- Yankee Stadium role call
- $140MM = lottery money
- Guaranteed to be surrounded with overpaid albeit competitive players every single season
- The Muppet's never took that lame-ass Los Angeles
- A non-bias by fans toward fat, left-handed starters
- 6 years of A-Rod!
- Ugly bums, unlike the more attractive and hygienic West Coast bums
- Cold weather = shoveling. Fat people hate to shovel
- Fat, ignorant Yankee fans named Vinny calling WFAN and proposing unthinkably retarded trades and chastising well-paid pitchers
- The South Bronx
- Lingering smell of feet and assholes on the subway
- Gridlock traffic on the Major Deegan
- Share same city as fuckface Tim Robbins
- Brain-dead athletes carrying firearms around like it's Dodge fucking City
- Not many at-bats to hone self-proclaimed great hitting skills
- 6 years of A-Rod!
Do you like riding in convertibles in January? Do you like holidaying in Santa Monica with an imported Top Ten model named Jade? Do you like seven miles between you and a 7-Eleven? Do you like your gang violence intense with less focus on Hispanics? Do you also like brushing elbows with today's youngest, hottest stars and starlets, all looking for a career spike followed by a downward spiral filled with coke bj's and pill addiction? If so, then L.A. is the place for you.
- Weather so perfect it gives you a 24/7 boner
- Filling out a rotation with Chad Billingsley, Clayton Kershaw, Hong-Chih Kuo, and Hiroki Kuroda is not only ethnically pleasing but also pretty fucking stacked
- Major bodies of water are not filled with discarded corpses and hospital waste
- Joe Torre's 100 pitch pitch-count as opposed to Dale Sveum's 275 pitch pitch-count
- Apathetic fans more concerned with thumb cuticles than score of game
- Automatically becomes fattest person in city
- Star-fucking groupies looking for a quick payout
- Close to wife and kid(s)
- Pasadena, Watts, Inglewood, West Hollywood...anywhere within city limits, actually
- Skinny, well-traveled producers accidentally calling XTRA to request new, gay single by "The Fray"
- Share same city as fuckface Bill Simmons
- State Government run by man who has already defeated Predator, The Devil and Sinbad
Which one will it be?
Is there any other player that could crush all those delicate little hearts from Queens any harder than this asshole?
Monday, December 8, 2008
12:31 PM - Michael "Mr. Hits" Young, Eric "I prefer it when my hospital rooms face the west...more direct sunlight for my plants!" Chavez and Milton "Mad Dog" Bradley were all spotted at a charity poker tournament after what was apparently a group shopping spree at "Hot Topic" in Vegas. Sharp looking graphic T-'s, gents...real sharp. Oh, and sweet Billabong hat, Eric. I like how you crook it to the side almost indistinguishly. Clever.
Remember when he didn't talk to Jim Grey during the '99 Series because Grey was mean to Pete Rose in an interview? And remember when he got mad at Derek Jeter for chatting it up with A-Rod during a bench clearing brawl with Seattle in '99? Yeah, that got the big mouth shipped out of the Bronx REAL quick.
This feature will present a well know athlete making a classic dumbass decision. We'll then outline a few 'choose your own adventure' style alternate endings, and you the reader get to choose for yourself how the ugly episode could have gone.
"MIAMI BEACH, Fla. (AP) -- Florida Marlins pitcher Dontrelle Willis was arrested early Friday on suspicion of drunken driving, police said.
An officer saw the star get out of his black Bentley around 4:30 a.m. and urinate in the street, police spokesman Bobby Hernandez said. The officer then approached him, noticed signs of intoxication and arrested him, Hernandez said. Willis, 24, refused a breath test at a police station and was being transported to Miami-Dade County jail, Hernandez said."
You remember this, right? Just picture how it went down that night. Here's the D-Train, probably still all fired up that his career hadn't fallen apart yet, coupled with the fact that he cashed in with his first big contract earlier in the year. He's out partying and drinking his face off in some Miami hot spot. He's wearing a terrible Hawaiian shirt and throwing back Corona after Corona after Tequila shot after Corona. Cue to the blackout. Some time around 4:15am, he decides he's had enough and should definitely just hop into his new Bentley and swerve his way home. Oh, but wait... before he left the club he forgot to piss. Better pull over and do that now. End of story.
WWCD? (What Would Chad Do?)- Would never have allowed himself to be traded away from such a wonderful God-fearing city like Chicago, IL to the heathen and fornicating Miami, FL. BUT, if somehow God was testing him by sending him to this Hell on earth, he'd no doubt would have been tucked-in tight and getting a good night's rest after what would have surly been a long day of doing mission work at the local youth center or church (FYI - Chad is very religious).
WWID? (What Would I Do?)- Well, first of all if I was that rich I'd just hire a damn driver to drive my drunk ass around town. What's that? I want to stay at that club till the sun comes up and then lie down in the back seat of the car barfing the whole ride home into the empty champagne bucket? That's a big 10-4. Why? Because I'm rich and it's my money and the poor driver would have to do whatever I say. And if I was too stupid to hire a driver (like apparently Donny was) and I found myself driving home hammered and had to pee? What's my bright idea to fix this problem without increasing my chances of almost certain arrest, you ask? I'd just piss my pants in the damn driver's seat! I'm rich, I could buy a new car if this one had pee stains all over it!
WWYD? (What Would You Do?) - Comment's section. Do it.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Friday, December 5, 2008
Past all the nitpicking, Lattimer is the tits.
Name: Patrick Bryan Burrell
Nickname: "Pat the Bat"
Shirt in Above Photo Looks Like a Rorschach Image: True
Burrell Gets Raw a Somewhat Deal Because Philly Fans are Retarded: True
Bats .700 Against Mets: False, .702
The lore in Philadelphia is fans have to be a cohesive band of ruthless cocksuckers. Burrell can attest to this. Ever since he became the #1 overall pick in the 1998 draft, he's been asked to save Jesus from the cross, France from the Germans, and South Jersey from the Guido's - going 0 for 3 in the process.
What Philly fans fail to realize is Burrell, despite an unflinching sense of cockiness and strong resemblance to the pre-tub-of shit looking, Ray Liotta, Burrell plays a good game. Although his lifetime average is sub-par at .257, his career OBP is on the higher end of the league, sitting nicely at .367. What does this mean for most GMs? Nothing. Because they're fucking stupid.
Burrell will get a 3-4 year deal from a National League team. Looking at his splits, he doesn't benefit too much from playing in Philly, and actually has more home runs and more RBIs on the road. Will he set the world on fire? No. Will he help a team? Absolutely. He would fit in nicely in San Francisco, not only for the shirtless pictures he likes to take with the boys - ba dum ch! - but also because he has as good a chance as anyone to out-slug team offensive juggernaut, Bengie Molina.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Baseball in the 1980's was stocked with star-power. But there were two different kinds - regional and worldwide, and there was a huge difference between the two. A regional star lost his luster as soon as you left his three-state hot-zone. A worldwide one, a superstar, was recognizable from Los Angeles, to New York, to Japan. A superstar fucked Hollywood starlets - Jose Canseco. A superstar broke baseball bats over his knee and played in the NFL on the weekends - Bo Jackson. A superstar struck-out 300 batters a season like it was the norm - Roger Clemens.
Regional stars had their limits. They lacked allure. Cal Ripken was a regional star. When I was growing up, Cal's baseball card meant dick to me. It never got pampered - no plastic sleeve, no display, no bragging. Even his brother's card was more important, only because he inscribed "fuck face" at the bottom of his bat. That's pimp. Cal? Not so much.
But Rickey Henderson on the other hand, he was a bonafide superstar. Rickey spoke of himself in 3rd person. Only whack NBA players and half-retarded boxers do that shit now. Rickey wore sunglasses everywhere he went, including to bed. Rickey stole 130 bases in 1 season. Yes, 130 bags in 1 season. Try and do that shit, Jose Reyes. Rickey was thee leadoff hitter of the 80's and 90's, and is probably the best ever. Ever see "Little Big League"? Who the fuck was that little shit GM trying to trade for? Rickey, that's who. Rickey rocked the gheri-curl when it was in, and then ditched it for the high-top fade when everyone started riding his dick. Rickey liked money. Rickey liked women. Rickey liked the limelight. Who else could get away with bashing nice-guy Lou Brock on the diamond as he's holding a base over his head and proclaiming himself "the best of all-time"? Nobody else, that's who.
And Rickey's going to make the Hall this year. Rickey may be the only inductee, too, which means more Rickey time. I can't wait for Rickey's induction speech. It's going to be so fucking conceded and pointless and random that it may force my brain to explode with joy. The thought of the whole scene makes me happy inside, like finding an unscrambled porn channel when I was
If anyone feels otherwise about Rickey's Hall Status - see the sidebar, and vote. Obviously if you vote 'no' you have to reconsider your status as a baseball fan, but I'm not judging here.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
TRAINSPOTTING - 1996
I've seen a lot of movies. Close to thirty, if you want to have a pissing contest. And not many of them really encouraged me not to do something. This movie, "Trainspotting" is one of the ones that did. Once I saw this, I decided I would never do heroin. Yup, it's true, no liquid tar for this guy. There may be 100 different reasons to stay away from the China Lady, but this movie convinced me never to inject a semi-synthetic opioid directly into my bloodstream. See, you can learn some shit from watching TV.
BLUE CHIPS - 1994
"Blue Chips" never gets its just due when people discuss good sports movies. It wasn't the greatest of all-time, and it definitely wasn't groundbreaking, but it was ten-times better than any of the fucking dribbling hokey trash Hollywood throws into the theater now, attaching a 'sports genre' tag to anything with a ball or a car or a horse. Do you like watching that retard Keanu Reeves coach a bunch of unconvincing inner-city hooligans in a gay Disney movie? Walk off a bridge.
Now, if you like real actors who are actually fucking lunatics in real life, check out Nick Nolte in this, long before he turned into a homeless vagrant who eats out of the garbage can. He was fucking phenomenal in this role.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
It may be hard to believe, but the know-all, know-everything writers around baseball were wrong about the Yankees offering arbitration to either Andy Pettite or Bobby Abreu, yet every fucking blogger from here to your mom's house knew otherwise.
(pats self on back)
Personally, I think parting ways with Abreu is a good thing. It's time to cut ties. Are you really going to miss his unnecessarily overcautious theatrics in the outfield, even though he's seventeen feet from the warning track? Or will you miss the moments right after he strikes out looking, and then laughs it up with Robinson Cano in the dugout?
Anyway, Abreu is going to join the Mets and get a multi-year deal that sends millions of Long Islanders into an uncontrollable fit of rage. And honestly, who doubts this will happen? Give me one reason Omar Minaya is not jacking off right now to a crisp bottle of Abreu's Finest, getting set to throw millions at Bobby's fat face?
On the other hand, the Yankees should definitely consider bringing Pettite back, who is not a bad guy to have at the back of a, as of today, relatively empty rotation. But not for $16MM. Yes, he's left-handed, but he wore down last season, and he's off the sauce, so let's just pencil him in for the four spot and 190-200 IPs, at $12MM for one year. Sound good? Good.
Monday, December 1, 2008
Here's one that took me a while to put my finger on only because I didn't know who the guy on the left actually was. On the right is all of our favorite NFL coach, Jim Mora, Sr. He's the guy that flipped out as head coach of the Colts (before their recent streak of great years under Dungy) when a reporter asked if he thought they'd make the playoffs. If you don't know what I'm referring to, do something that Doc has told you do to in a previous post as a stupidity penalty.
Mora's obviously been out of the limelight recently, but I swear I'd seen him coaching a college team. Much to my chagrin, after yelling out to anyone around me that would listen, "Holy crap, isn't that that crazy freak Mora?!", I discovered that it was not The Silver Fox (my nickname for him), but rather some other coach that apparently goes to the same barber. This is Greg Robinson. I know nothing about him other than that he coaches Syracuse and they beat Notre Dame. So, the next time you walk into your local barber, be like Greg and say, "Hey, Enzo...give me the 'Mora'!"
These guys brought to my attention how much the young, chubby Mike Hampton resembles the fat, coked-up Jack Black. And not only do they share the same taste in shitty attire, but they also share the same taste for piles and piles of artery clogging deep-fried food.
I've never been a huge Jack Black fan - he sort of peaked back in "High Fidelity" - and I've never been a fan of Mike Hampton - except when I see his name scroll across the injury ticker, because what isn't funny about a guy who has the same pain tolerance as a hyper-sensitive only child from Greenwich, CT?
Is it a coincidence that both of these guys put on their best professional performance - Hampton in '99, Black in '00 - within 6 months of each other? Who knows, but the overwhelmingly vague and weak connection seems a little odd to me.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Unlike most Americans, who are probably starting to binge drink as I write this, I'm stuck at fucking work, with actual fucking work to do. It's quiet here, because all the sales people were smart enough to not show up since the boss is out. All, except this asshole. And I'm wearing my normal attire. Everyone else looks like they're going to their fucking kid's dance recital or a dinner at their inlaw's house. Fuck me.
And to make matters worse, there isn't a goddamn thing happening in baseball. Not a fucking significant whisper to obsess over (Teixera back on the Yankees radar?), not a rumor that actually sounds more exciting than depressing (Sabathia to the Angels?) and not one overblown story about some injury to some superstar (Utley now could be ready by opening day?).
So, here's some trivia. Who doesn't like trivia to waste time over? I have a Yankees trivia calendar and I'm pretty sure it was written by some 87 year-old asshole who just wont die, because the questions are tougher to solve than Cameron Diaz's sex appeal. But mine aren't so bad. So, either do them, or don't do them, but if you're drinking already, do an extra shot for me, and hopefully that's the one that helps you achieve your first DWI.
Happy Thanksgiving Eve, fuckers.
*highlight space underneath questions for answers
1. Who was the last pitcher to win 20 games for the New York Mets?
Answer: Frank Viola, 1990, 20-12
2. Jimmy Rollins hit .296 in 2007 and captured the NL MVP – Who was the last player to hit under .300 and win the same award?
Answer: Kevin Mitchell, 1989, .291
3. True or False - Derek Jeter has had sex with someone closely related to you?
Answer: True, your cousin Allison on your Mom’s side, she’s such a slut when she drinks and does coke.
4. Who is the last pitcher to win more than 26 games in a regular season?
Answer: Bob Welch, 1990, 27-6
5. How many 20 game winners did the Yankees have during their runt to 4 World Series?
Answer: Two - Andy Pettite, 1996, 21-8 - David Cone, 1998, 20-7
6. Bartolo Colon deserved the Cy Young in 2006 about as much as I deserve a raise, considering all the negative energy I bring to the workplace?
Answer: False, I have better overall numbers than that fat piece-of-shit
7. True or False: Mark Redman represented the Kansas City Royals at the 2006 All-Star game, despite being 6-4 with a 5.27 at the break?
Answer: Depressingly enough, it's true
8. Which active player has played for the most teams?
Answer: Ron Villone, 11 teams: Seattle, San Diego, Milwaukee, Cleveland, Cincinnati, Colorado, Pittsburgh, Houston, Florida, New York Yankees, St. Louis
9. Five teams have never had a Cy Young Award Winner – which franchises are they?
*hint, 3 NL, 2 AL
Answer: COL, CIN, FLA, TB, TEX
10. Since 1990, only four starting pitchers have finished with sub-2 ERA’s – who are they?
Answer: Greg Maddux – 1994, 1995, Kevin Brown – 1996, Pedro Martinez – 1997, 2000, Roger Clemens – 1990, 2005
11. Cal Ripken is overrated?
12. There are three former ROY winners from the past 10 seasons who are no longer playing in the major leagues – who are they?
Answer: 1998 A.L. - Ben Grieve, 1999 N.L. - Scott Williamson, 2000 A.L. - Kazuhiro Sasaki
a) N.L. pitcher's nickname is "Zombie"?
b) Washed up 1st baseman's nickname is "Eye Chart"?
c) Fat closer's nickname is "Papa Grande"?
d) Speedy Outfielder's nickname is "The Perfect Storm"?
e) Comeback-track pitcher's nickname is "The Chief"
Answers: a) Aaron Harang, b) Doug Mientkiewicz , c) Jose Valverde, d) Carl Crawford, e) Freddy Garcia
14. True or False – My friend is convinced Lance Berkman is a Jew, even though he wears a cross around his neck?
15. Which mildly retarded TV broadcaster once won back-to-back National League MVP’s?
Answer: Joe Morgan, 1975, 1976
Monday, November 24, 2008
*This will be a chaptered post for several reasons. First, I do not have all of my collected research put together and/or sorted. Second, when I say, "collected research", I mean "random words and pictures of boobies jotted down on bills from the eye doctor". Third, there isn't shit to talk about right now in baseball, and who the fuck really cares if Jason Varitek signs a one-year deal to suck some more?
But I do plan on doing a handful of these. Hence, Part 1. And just for reference, these will not be ranked, so don't get all fucking pissy if you feel I've slighted your opinion on the matter in any way (even though I probably did it on purpose, you asshole).
It's 1991. You are still wearing jams and zuba pants to social functions. The Yankees are in the toilet, coming off a 95 loss season. The Mets are getting ready to jump into the same toilet. 1st round draft pick for the New York Jets Blair Thomas is setting the NFL world ablaze with what will amount to 620 rushing yards. And north of the border, a historic trade is about to transpire. The Toronto Blue Jays are about to move two of their best young players for another two current superstars playing for the San Diego Padres. straight up.
On December 5th, Toronto trades Fred McGriff and Tony Fernandez to San Diego for Joe Carter and Roberto Alomar.
Unlike today's trade market where soon-to-be free agents are pawned off for a ransom of young prospects and players-to-be-named-later, this deal involved four players who were all in their respective primes. Here's a quick look at what all four had already accomplished prior to the trade:
- McGriff, 26, had already hit 125 home runs for Toronto in his first 4 full seasons
- Fernandez, 28, was a 4 time Gold Glover and 3 time All-Star
- Alomar, 22, was coming off his 1st of 11 All Star Game appearances
- Joe Carter, 30, had already hit 175 home runs for the Indians and Padres
McGriff played two-and-a-half seasons for San Diego, hit 103 home runs, and added 1 All Star appearance and 1 Silver Slugger Award to his resume. He then proceeded to play for 487 different teams and a handful of wood-bat leagues in Sarasota, FL during his summer. He should end up in the Hall of Fame next year, but knowing how HOF ballot holders vote, he will probably be elected when he's dead and it means nothing to his lonely, rotting corpse.
Fernandez played two seasons for San Diego, making 1 All Star appearance. He ultimately made a name for himself as being the last shortstop to start for the Yankees before Derek "King of All Star-fuckers" Jeter took over. Needless too say, Fernandez never saw Jessica Biehl naked.
Joe Carter won two World Series rings with the Jays. If you don't know what else Carter is famous for, and you are over the age of 20, then please walk into oncoming traffic.
I hate Robbie Alomar, simply because some (most) days I too want to spit in people's faces that oppose my stance on objective situations. But I don't, and I make about $5MM less than him, annually.
The clear winner here is Toronto, who parlayed the trade into two World Series Championships and all the gloating and glory non-caring Canucks could handle.
San Diego never made it to the playoffs while Fernandez and McGriff were on the roster, but did manage to net Wally Whitehurst, D.J. Dozier, Vince Moore, Donnie Elliot, and Melvin Nieves, in trades with the Mets and the Braves, respectively.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
There is a chance, albeit a slight one, that the New York Yankees fail to sign any of the three free agent pitchers they targeted this offseason. That means come April, no C.C., no A.J. and no Derek Lowe filling out the thin rotation. And even though I could do without the bullshit, hokey headlines the New York Post will make out of all the acronyms, I would never wish these guys to another team. But it’s possible, and it’s been mentioned by more than one reporter, and barring the chance that all of these reporters are in cahoots to ruin the Yankees, their fan-base, and everything that’s right about capitalism, greed, title domination and overall good, clean baseball, the story was not fabricated out of thin fucking air.
It’s called a Doomsday Scenario. It’s when everything that can possibly go wrong, does. Imagine a world where chaos reigns, a police state is the norm, Jews and Muslims play dominoes together in the park, gay republicans from Arkansas hold hands openly in the street, liberals admonish the hand-holding instead of praising it, America has a
I know, I know, it’s too much to digest on a Sunday night, but this is what we’re looking at if Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum fail to entice any one of the big three into wearing pinstripes.
So let’s say this happens, and the Yankees are left with only Chein-Ming Wang and Joba Chamberlain to anchor the rotation – what happens then? First, I go out and eat a lot, and drink a lot, and probably piss on the 2 train platform, because the night will be long and the remorseful feeling will be too much. But then, the Yankees will be forced to go with Plan B. What is Plan B? Who knows for sure, but here’s a four-step proposal that will keep the Yankees relevant.
1. Sign Jon Garland
He may not be the savior the Yankees are looking for, but he eats innings like you eat Doritos after smoking that bullshit weed you buy off that Jamaican in Washington Square Park.
2. Sign Brad Penny
He ate his fat-ass out of Los Angeles, and is now looking for redemption. A fired-up fatso on the rebound is something you want to be a part of. But if he fails, get rid of him. Fast. Fuck it, even if you have to eat (no pun) $30 million, do it. Trade him for Julian Taverez or a AA prospect pushing 40, just make sure you cut ties. As good as it is to have a motivated fat boy, it’s ten-times worse to have a depressed one.
3. Re-sign Andy Pettite
The rotation needs a left-handed arm. Pettite was 13-9 before hurting his shoulder and sliding to 14-14 at season’s end. I’ll take it.
4. Let Phil Hughes Marinate
Yes, he didn’t exactly dominate last season, but let’s not forget, Hughes is only 22 years-old. He has good stuff. Scouts still like his make-up. They don’t say these things for shits and giggles. It’s real, I swear - Hughes is going to be good. Not just good, but great! Amazing! An Ace! A fucking Hall of Famer!
(thinks about Johan Santana in pinstripes, drops toaster into luke-warm bathtub)
Now, I doubt this is going to happen – I doubt the Yankees are going to have to worry about losing out on all three pitchers. But the alternative (if it’s even plausible) isn’t exactly the end of the world. Contrary to what all the fat fucking idiots who know dick about baseball will be crowing, the Yankees will not be finished before the season even begins. They’ll never trot out a team that’s under prepared and way too green to compete.
What’s that? The Yankees did exactly what I just said they would never do this past season? You must be mistaken, sir, because this past season never happened!
(blinds you with reflection from Ian Kennedy’s gigantic teeth)
(dives into cover of bushes)
Yes, I am fully aware the Jets knocked off the undefeated Titans today. In fact, I let everyone know about it via obscenity laced text-messages - like a real man does it! But also, I've avoided discussing the team because they've been on a role, and history tends to suggest that I, in no way, can EVER bring luck to my team, so I'm going to shut the fuck and smile, and nod, and hope to Brett Favre's god I didn't upset him.