Thursday, February 14, 2008

What If? The Series - Part 1


What if Curt Schilling Was Never Traded by the Astros?

In 1992, during his second season with Houston, Curt Schilling - untradeable because of his whining - becomes the #3 starter behind the staff ace Pete Harnisch (known for his sexually enticing porn-esque 'stache) and bad-boy #2 starter Mark Portugal. Portugal especially takes a liking to Schil - in a bad way. He constantly throws around his weight and often makes Schilling piss sitting down. It's a tough time for Curt during his first few years on the team.

Portugal's bullying crushes Schilling's man-status, and he's resigned to the fact that he will never win more than 12 games in a season. He also becomes a vocal supporter of the Democratic Party and an uber-liberal, often spotted during the off-season parading around San Francisco wearing a MuMu, sans shoes, making his hippie feet very dirty. He's also a fucking fat pig now, eating food out of dumpsters to, "fight the oppression by the man".

In 1998, after six seasons of mediocrity, Houston starts to win, no thanks to Schilling, who's become a drug-riddled liability. He pitches mop up duty out of the pen and only succeeds when he's lifted off his ass on LSD. At the July 31st deadline, The Astros acquire Randy Johnson for a bucket of shit and 17 scrub prospects who will eventually amount to nothing (fuck Freddy Garcia), catapulting them into the upper-echelon of MLB playoff contenders.

Randy notices this pitiful mess in the bullpen, and decides to save him with his Christianity veiled Voodoo trickery. They become best friends (with hints of gayness) and Big Schil ends up back in the rotation by September, helping to lead the 'Stros to the World Series where they defeat the Yankees in 7 games.

Both Johnson and Schilling sign seven year contracts after the season ends, and the Astros become a powerhouse, winning two more World Series in the next 5 years.

And since Schilling never goes to the Red Sox, they never break the curse in '04, therefore making my life easier to deal with.

In 2007, after 15 years with the club, Schil retires. Unfortunately, all his money is gone, and he feeds himself by taking interviews with local high school reporters. His fee is $12, with the possibility of an impromtu back rub. He's creepy, and fat, and fucking dirty, but he's good for a quote. A sad end to a fucked up career.

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