Thursday, July 31, 2008
In an age where team allegiance is as important as vegetables in a Midwestern diet, we seem to be coming to the end of one of the last marriages that worked - for a while. Yes, at one time Manny and Boston were compatible. But what people seem to forget is, Manny's been pulling shit like this for years. Boston's just fed up, now. Nothing's different, none of his antics are new news.
This whole charade, "Manny being Manny" can be dissected one way - it's Manny being a spoiled dick. He's like a hot-shot banker who takes on a homely wife and continually cheats on her, but she allows it because he's out of her league and he stays with her because she makes a mean steak and waits on him hand-and-foot. But that's it. Once one side decides that they've has enough - it's over. That's what happened last night. Manny banged a stripper on the couch. And Boston ran away crying. And they're going to call his bluff, and hopefully send him down to Florida so he can disappear (or he can legitimize the middle of that lineup with Hanley Ramirez and Dan Uggla and win the NL East - scary, huh?).
Now, some people call me brash for thinking Manny's more aggravation than fun guy at the party who fears no consequence. Maybe it's just me, but I'm not a fan of having someone on my team that cares more about cartoons than he does baseball. And this is part of the problem with Manny, since he graduated from high school (and maybe before) he's had people to take care of everything in his life for him, because they just told him, "go out there and hit." When you don't care, you can go up to bat and hit a homerun, because deep down, it doesn't affect you mentally whatsoever.
So, can we really blame Manny for being the way he is? To some extent, yes. He's an adult, and I'm over this shit where people say he's so far-gone as a person that he's on another level. Please. I knew a guy who used to eat out of a garbage can, and he wasn't homeless, but he didn't go around acting like an ego-centric idiot all the time, and he knew when to turn on big-boy mode. In my opinion, anyone who can pick up the spin on a curveball can understand when they're acting like a fucking two-year-old who didn't get his way.
For Manny, and announcers giggling and saying, "that's just Manny being Manny" while they give each other reach-arounds, I hope it's good riddance from the AL East. And I'm sure The Yankees aren't the only team that will be sad to see you go. But if I'm Boston, I'm asking for custody of the kids. And the house, that shit is worth some money!
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
- No more automatic out at catcher
- No more Michael Kay sucking off Jose Molina every time he flips the ball to the umpire and/or throws out fleet-footed baserunner
- Good defense
- Creepy Shrunken face on big head scares me
- Another steroid accuse on the roster
- Less street credit without Kyle to anchor the team in the midst of a fight
- My argument that nothing happens at the deadline is slowly evaporating
Since the trade dealine is living up to the hype - trading Teixeira is fucking played - I decided to see what others had to say about a movie I saw the other night, Step Brothers, and of course, was forced to post my opinion.
If there's one thing that gets me more worked up than stupid homer sports writers (Bill Simmons, Jim Caple), it's stuck-up movie critics, a la that fat-fuck Roger Ebert.
Ebert's been around for years, filling the world with his pale criticism and sticking his thumbs up any vague, or foreign, or obscure film's ass, while continually trashing any mainstream comedies that don't include the sidesplittingly funny Hugh Grant or the cutesy Sandra Bullock. He also killed off one of his co-hosts (no) and apparently has gained more clout since then.
Well, I think he is full of shit.
For example, he recently bashed the living shit out of Step Brothers (here), with an argument that contains more holes than Darrent Williams SUV (too soon?). Acting offended by a movie that carries the Apatow tag is like acting surprised when you find out you caught gonorrhea from that Thai hooker you had unprotected sex with at an Econo Lodge.
We get it, Rog, Step Brothers is gross, and raw, and filled with fucking "potty language" (what are you five?) - nobody out there is denying this. But what you fail to realize is it's supposed to be - that's the kind of movie it is. If you walked into the theater expecting this, instead of drooling over a picture of macaroni cheese on a hot dog, then maybe you would have been fair before doling out a shitty rating.
Just for reference, and a few hearty laughs, let's take a look at some of his more recent movie ratings:
Indiana Jones IV: ***
I'm guessing he was drunk when he saw this. That, or my assumption that he is a blubbering dope is true. This movie sucked cock. Like Rog.
You Don't Mess with the Zohan: ***
I actually saw this one (don't ask why), and I know that I would rather watch a janitor paint a high school gym than ever see this complete pile of shit ever again.
Shotgun Stories: ****
Like I said before, praise the obscure, dark, independent film no matter if it's good or not. I saw this last year at the Tribeca Film Festival (fancy alert) and let me say, it is far from 4 stars. It's fucking weird and relatively pointless. Hence, four stars from the fatso.
Look, I'm not going to sit here and say Step Brothers was on the same level as Old School or even Anchorman - it wasn't, far from it - but did I laugh? Yes. Was I entertained to the point where I felt vindicated of the $26 I spent? Yes. Was it better than Ferrell's last two travesties - Semi-Pro and Blades of Glory? Absolutely.
Ebert's review only reinforced why I never listen to professional opinions. But here's some advice, in case he should ever want to know how the public feels: Not every movie is meant to be a piece of art. Some are meant to be pieces of shit. Shit is funny. Art is not. That's the difference. Deal with it. It's not society's fault that everyone doesn't still enjoy sitting around reading the Saturday Evening Post or the National Lampoon and beating their spouses. Times change, old man, so either move on, or stop being such a offended little bitch.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
- Ladies, gentleman, and loyal WMHG? readers (which tend to fit in neither category), I present to you the most remarkable thing on a baseball field since Babe Ruth. Bold claim? Yes. Truth? Absolutely. Here's Rick's pitching line in 2000 when he finished 2nd in the Rookie of the Year voting to Rafael Furcal (who later turned out to be 35 during his "rookie" season):
- Then, young Rick loses his mind in the playoffs and couldn't throw more than 3 pitches without one sailing into the 10th row. So, after 4 years of getting hurt/attempting to straighten himself out, Rick decides "I'm going to be an outfielder now."
- He spends 2005 between A and AA and hits 21 HR and 75 RBI in 321 AB. He then hurts his knee before the 2006 season and misses the whole damn thing. Then, he comes back in 2007 and goes straight to AAA where he hits 32 HR and drives in 89 RBI in only 389 AB, en route to Triple-A All-Star glory. Rick's then called up to the Cards and the rest is history.
- So far, in the 2 years since his return to the bigs as an everyday player here are his combined numbers:
- That would be one hell of a season for a guy that tried to be a hitter his whole life, not just 2 years. Ohh, by the way, he plays the hardest OF position (CF) masterfully and has a cannon for an arm (duh).
- Jones Zone: Currently batting .369 through 89 games. Just went on the DL. We are firmly into the "enjoying the fact he's not going to come close" area.
- Howard Watch: 138 K's through 105 games. On pace for 213K's. Number of games this season in which he has NOT struck out: 18. I'm actually getting a bit worried. The number of 2 and 3 strikeout games has decreased recently, only 3 in the past 16. C'mon Rino... choking up is for losers.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Well, it's that time of year again - when teams make moronic trades and overpay for the services of guys who are no longer competent, or are on loan for the remaining three months of the season...That's right, it's the MLB trading deadline!
Who's (not) going to be traded? What big name is going to be brought up in fake trade discussions, simply because some writer felt the need to do so and has no information to back it? Who is (not) disgruntled, but is trying to leverage more money from some dick owner?
Most of this week is hype. But unless you're landing a sure-thing that could put your team over the top and into the playoff hunt, then my advice is hold on to those prospects, because there will be more Ken Phelps/Heathcliff Slocumb/Blake Stein's to land at midnight and then suck down the stretch in the near future.
So, here's a quick rundown of who(re: most likely none)might be wearing a new uniform this time next week.
Manny Ramirez - Boston
Possible Destinations: Omar Minaya's pull-out couch, the room above Vladimir Guerrero's detached garage.
Manny isn't going anywhere, but leave it up to the media to get aroused over the mere thought of a trade actually happening. It's like clockwork - every year, right around this time, we as fans are forced to read through an endless series of articles detailing the demise of Manny Ramirez in Boston. But somehow, each year, we end up with the same conclusion: Manny delivers in the clutch, racists from Boston swear they never wanted him off their beloved squad in the first place and rejoice by punching their girlfriends in the face.
Mark Teixeira - Atlanta
Possible Destinations: Anywhere in the NL West, where he immediately becomes the biggest offensive threat in the whole division.
So let me get this straight - Tex is dealt near last year's deadline because his contract is up at the end of the 2008 season, and now he's being dealt again for the same reason by the team that acquired him last year for high level prospects? That's plain dumb. So, they give pay raises to players who haven't earned and don't deserve the money (Rafael Soriano), but pretend they're broke when a free-agent-to-be asks for a contract extension? Now here's the real issue - where is all that money Atlanta makes selling those stupid fucking tomahawks going? Huh? Ohhhhhhhhhh Ohhhh Oh Ohhhhhhhhhh, fuck off, you cheap bastards.
Matt Holliday - Colorado
Possible Destinations: The basement underneath Theo "Zed" Epstein's shop
Holliday's 2007 home stats - .376 AVG, 25 HR, 82 RBI, .722 SLG
Holliday's 2007 away stats - .301 AVG, 11 HR, 55 RBI, .485 SLG
If I can figure out how to access this kind of information, than so can every other GM in baseball. But for some reason, they think stats lie. And that's why I believe I can do a better job than them. Because stats don't lie. And they don't cheat on you when they're drunk, either.
Ron Mahay - Kansas City
Possible Destinations: Another small market team that needs an entire franchise overhaul, let alone a fucking left-handed reliever.
Who's Ron Mahay, you ask? I say, who gives a shit.
Bronson Arroyo - Cincinnati
Possible Destinations: As long as the location does not start with "The" and end with "Bronx", I'm happy.
He's actually one of the guys who will be moved before Thursday, and I'm pretty sure Cincinnati is more than willing to accept any used kitchen appliances and/or furniture in exchange. And it will be an equal exchange, because Arroyo will deliver the same in return - a weak performance and an uncomfortable seating experience (*note - his back is lumpy).
Jason Bay - Pittsburgh
Possible Destinations: Knowing Pittsburgh's savvy ways and history of intelligent deals: Tokyo
From what I can gather from my sources (AK, the bum outside my office who smells like cottage cheese, ESPN.com) - Pittsburgh is asking for the secret to life in exchange for their prized right-handed power bat. Well, it just so happens that I know it - the secret to life is drinking heavily, doing drugs, and smoking butts. Seriously. Ask Josh Hamilton.
George Sherrill - Baltimore
Possible Destinations: Where he becomes the guy who cleans up after C.C. Sabathia gets done eating his daily meal of live calf and babies.
One of this year's success stories (did you know Josh Hamilton is just like Roy Hobbs from The Natural?), Sherrill could very well be shipped out of town. Hopefully, wherever he lands, the first thing he is forced to do is bend his fucking hat like every other white player in his early 30's in the big leagues.
I love eggs. I can eat them at any time on any given day. Wake me up at 4am after a drinking binge and I’ll eat them off the fucking floor. Hand them to me on a golden-brown roll and you might even find yourself turned on over how beautifully I devour the eggs. Places that stop selling eggs at a certain time are expendable – meaning they should and will be torched, eventually, by me. Want to eat eggs 4 times a day? Yes. Don’t care if your cholesterol hits 350? Nope. I put eggs on my fucking filet of sol. I peg my friends in the face with hard-boiled eggs. I drizzle the juice from soft-boiled eggs all over my pant-less thighs. Eggs, eggs, eggs, motherfucker – I love them.
2. Cheap Beer
Want to talk shop about great beers, great hops, great drinking temperatures, great lager and great ale? FUCK OFF. I like shitty beer; I’m no longer ashamed to admit it. Why? Because I was bred on it in high school. The first beer I ever got drunk on was Coors Arctic Ice, and that shit was so bad they don’t even make it anymore. If the beer doesn’t have a metal taste to it, I turn my nose up. Please pass me the Keystone or the Miller or the Beast – and don’t forget the Natty Ice; the first sip of this nectar is better than a pornstar handy.
This is a given, because who doesn’t love vacation? Exotic locales, new people, new places, new languages, different money, exciting cultures…
Give me a beach chair that itches my damp ass all day, a cooler full of the above paragraph, a few sporadic cigarettes, and some cool ocean breeze, and this guy is all set. Plane rides and ferries? Nope. The Turnpike to the Garden State Parkway to the shore – those are all the transportation routes I’ll need. And I’m not talking about Seaside or one of those complete wastelands, I like the good shit – the classy NJ that nobody knows about (ie: no class at all, but who cares). Maybe I’ll take a quick ride to AC, but only if I’m feeling adventurous – and AC is as adventurous as a park-and-ride (although more dangerous than catching a ride home with Jim Leyritz). But who needs the headache of really traveling? The last thing I want to do on a day off from work is sit in an airport and suspiciously eye every person who has a darker skin tone than me, and I’m almost translucent. Fuck that. Call me a classless piece-of-shit, and I’ll raise my glass to you while cleaning the sand out of my crack.
1. People Who Swear By Famous Quotes
I can’t stand when people do this. It literally makes bile crawl up the back of my throat and wade around in my mouth.
“Carpe Diem” – ‘I live by this’ (or some follow-up of that nature) – No you do not. You spent yesterday sleeping on your couch, too hung-over to even get up and eat anything. You really seized the day there, dick-breath.
“Live Laugh Love” – This is one of the most aggravating ones out there. That’s all you need in the world right? Wrong. Who’s going to pay my fucking cell phone bill? Who’s covering rent? Who’s worrying about the faulty lock on the door every time I hear something in the middle of the night? I’m not going to Laugh, or Love any of that shit, but I do want to continue to Live.
2. People Who Laugh at Dumb Shit During a Movie
Am I missing the joke? Seriously, am I? What the fuck is so funny about a fart (unless it’s me doing it silently in an elevator full of douchebags)? Farts in movies are rarely funny. But it’s not always farts. It’s the horse shit comedy during a movie where all the people with 4 brain cells nearly shit their pants over some hokey line. I’m not trying to sound ‘better’ than anyone - because God knows I’m not - but when it comes to dumbing yourself down, laughing at something that’s been retread more than Leonard Little’s tires, well, I want to fucking puke.
3. Uppercase-Lowercase Writing
So looking and speaking like a complete asshole doesn’t cut it for you – it needs to be in writing as well? Seriously, every kid who decides to write like “tHiS” should be shepherded off to a farm and forced to do 12 hours shifts of nothing but grammar trees, if only to appease my criticism of America’s public school system and hatred for fuck-heads who don’t realize they are fucking doomed to be bottom feeders for life.
Sunday Night Baseball on ESPN is as American as overindulgence and violent street crime. Deep down we all love it, even if it kills us. But my biggest problem with the telecast is that ESPN stuck two blabbering morons in the booth and asked them to announce a game. Maybe I'm just not happy about the way everyone hired by Walt Disney likes to bash the ever-loving shit out of the Yankees, but Jon Miller really, really gets under my skin. I can't decide if it's the way his neck gullet drapes down like a curtain of old skin, or maybe it's his hypnotic voice that lulls me into a dream-like state of security, and then drills me between the eyes with an over-the-top dumb comment with zero clout to back it up.
And I've always felt the same way about Ben Franklin. That fat fuck, who is he to get on the $100 bill? What did he ever do except plow slutty French chicks, hate black people, and fly a kite around in a lightening storm like your drunk neighbor who takes his pants off at the Little League field?
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Sorry I tried to take your head off for the 4th time last night, I thought you were one of those genocidal maniac white men. Then I realized it was just you, but I said fuck it, why not?
Friday, July 25, 2008
I had a relatively quiet commute today, except when a handful of women began screaming at the top of their lungs because a rat lurched itself onto the subway platform, but I'm used to that shit now, and I actually prefer the hairy bastards to a vagabond who smells like Madonna's inner thighs. But anyway, my point is, by posting the above picture and forcing a written description, it's inevitable that I'm going to work myself into a frenzy (albeit a short one), because I harness a deep, pulsing hatred for Dan Snyder. But what the fuck, right? Nothing better to do on a Friday morning than get the heart pumping a little bit.
Dan Snyder - what can I say that hasn't already been said in this post? I hate everything about him. I hate his glasses, I hate his helmet-hair, I hate his chubby face, I hate his faggity windbreaker, I hate his healthy year-round tan, I hate his Redskins inscribed debit card, I hate his meticulously groomed fingernails, I hate his expensive slacks, I hate his dog and I hate his fucking favorite pair of socks. Seriously, if there is ever a "Consequences of the Law, Ignored" Day, I'm taking a cast iron shoe and booting it up his puckered ass. And the Redskins going out and getting Jason "Hot Feet" Taylor is no surprise, because Washington is the land where veteran's careers go to die - in Taylor's case, with personal pleasure.
To sum it all up - Dan Snyder is a toilet. I wanted to post a picture of a heap of shit, but that's a little too tasteless for me, and that's saying a lot.
*Note - This post is not a random bashing, I actually came across an archived email between a college friend and myself discussing the 2002 NFL off-season, which was the year the Redskins pillaged the Jets playoff roster and signed away Laveranues Coles, John Hall, Randy Thomas and Chad Morton. To this day, it makes me grind my teeth. So after seeing this email, and the way those burgundy and gold cocksuckers rubbed it in my face, I decided to do another post of Dan. And I'm sure it will send shock waves through the world of pro football.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
"Umm, get used to it Mr. Favre...it's just the Meadowlands"
Well, we've all heard the rumors. Is Brett on the move? Will he be stuck in Green Bay as a back up? Will he flip out, have Aaron Rogers 'misplaced' and be the starting QB again for the Packers? Will he do another rugged Wrangler Jeans commercial and tug a little at my heart strings, making me want to be the man I always thought I could be? All answers will be upon us before we know it.
BUT... What if the answer is that Brett Favre will be standing squarely behind Nick Mangold for the start of the 2008 NY JETS season opener? Did I just blow your mind?
Now, I know it's unlikely, but us Jets fans have so precious little to hold on to every year, we might as well make some stuff up that gives us hope. We've all read the same articles that say they won't trade him to an NFC team, and there's only a handful of teams that would want/need him in the AFC - the Jets being one of them. Just because it might make sense/work out well/actually make the fans happy, it doesn't mean Gang Green's brass will do it.
Trust me. I love Chad Pennington. There's no real reason why I do, I just do. I suppose I'm just stuck remembering his brief glory days and that shutout he threw in the playoffs against the Colts (41-0 in round 1 of 2002). He used to be rock solid before the injuries. Sure, he never had the rocket arm, but that didn't matter when he had Curtis Martin behind him and the surgical accuracy that made him the most accurate passer in NFL history* (This is a FACT. Look it up, http://www.pro-football-reference.com/leaders/pass_cmp_perc_career.htmww.pro-football-reference.com/leaders/pass_cmp_perc_career.htm. Say whatever you want about him, but the man is #1 all time in pass completion % and that's gotta mean something). The problem is, he's not that guy anymore, as we all saw with big interception after big interception last season. That led to Kellen Clemens getting in there, and while he held his own at times, he certainly doesn't appear to be the long term solution.
The Herm Edwards years were fun, entertaining, and filled with memorable press conferences. Mangini's first year was a pleasant surprise. But deep down all Jets fans know whatever magical ride we might be on in a given year, it will stop well short of the Super Bowl. And believe me, I know he's no messiah and won't march to the promise land on Desmond Howard wings (not sure what that means). I know he's the grizzled old gunslinger at this point that just loves "throwin' the long-bomb". We all obviously know Doc's feelings on the old warrior by now, and sure, he's right, but the old bastard can still throw at least as hard/far as Eli Manning, and I'm sure he trumps the younger Manning in IQ. I'd take him in a NY minute.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Over the past six months or so, two legendary players of my generation have seemingly gone out of their way to paint a huge dick on their forehead, just to make sure all of their fans and admirers forget about the good old days, the pre-dick-on-head days, when they were excelling at their respective sport and not painting dicks on their heads.
But those days are officially gone. I can't hear Roger Clemens' name without thinking, "Hmm, he threw his wife under the bus to protect his already tarnished image, and his defense during the congressional hearings has been weaker than Lindsay Lohan's 'no blowjob on the first date' rule".
I also can not hear someone utter Brett Favre's name without thinking, "Hmm, remember when he was on national TV and he initiated that over-the-top snowball fight because he knew all of America was watching even though anyone with half a brain knew he was running that All-American-Boy bullshit nonsense into the ground? What a fucking nerd."
In any event, I'm a forgiving guy, but these two assholes are officially in Fucked Town. And there can only be one King in Fucked Town, so a case has to be made for one of the two.
So here it is - one guy asked for it, one guy pretended not to ask for it while secretly asking for it. Now I ask you, kind sir, who is more of a dick - Roger Clemens or Brett Favre?
Case for Clemens
- Vehemently denied steroid allegations despite the fact that all testimonies were pretty much legit and the defendant had the needle, the Miller Lite can, and a blood, stool and semen sample from the plaintiff.
- Predicted other people on the Mitchell Report would deny their respective implications - instead they came clean and gained some integrity back.
*note - Clemens did no such thing
- Blamed all allegations on his wife. Probably has sought sexual release from various broad-shouldered prostitutes and/or 15 year-old country singers since.
- Encouraged wife to do steroids, but not the de-uglification kind of steroids.
- Ruined a good Christian boy in Andy Pettite.
*note - Me = hopes Roger dies slowly from sepsis of the cock for this
- Murdered a drifter at a Texas area rest stop over a bag of Baked Cool Ranch Doritos.
*note - not true
- Will probably be the only player to ever win 350+ and not get in the Hall of Fame simply because he's an asshole.
*note - I still think he deserves to be in the Hall of Fame. Take away steroids, and he's still one of the most dominate pitchers ever. And don't forget he was pitching to guys like Jose Canseco, Juan Gonzalez, Albert Belle and Rafael Palmeiro...wait a second, who am I, fucking Peter Gammons now? On second thought - fuck him.
Case for Favre
- "I'm just here to play football" shtick is as old/annoying and as insincere as it can be at this point.
- Is currently fucking over the Packers and the citizens of Green Bay to pump more air into stupid ego even though his fans renounced Jesus (and healthy non-artery clogging food) just to please him.
- Performance in "There's Something About Mary" holds up 10 years later as well as a dildo that's been sat on by Louie Anderson.
- Is not in the upper echelon of QB's anymore and will not turn a loser team into instant contender.
*note - I do not understand where this theory originated but it is absolute horseshit and it drives me fucking insane.
- Again: Putting Favre on the Falcons does not make them a good team.
*note - it's similar to the phenomenon where fat people naturally assume that since they weigh a metric ton, than they must be tough. I can't stress this point enough: being fat does not make you tough, it makes you more likely to suffer from sleep apnea and heart disease, but does not increase your chances in a street fight.
- Was secretly contacting his arch-rival of 15+ years, the Minnesota Vikings, on his
*note - As much as Green Bay's uppity sense of fandom dries me up the wall, I have to admit, this is super low on Brett's part. The team treated him like a fucking god for almost two decades, and to show them how much that means, he decides that he wants to go play for their arch-rival. Why not just throw a grenade into the Lambeau Leap section and be done with it?
- Cries a lot
*note - See above photo
- Broke fellow cocksucker Dan Marino's NFL records, and is now trying to break his record for being the biggest douchebag in history record as well.
So, who is it going to be - The hurler or the gunslinger? You make the call.
Purgatory - the place between Heaven and Hell. If you don't recognize the term, then Google it while you stuff your fat face at lunch tomorrow, because you’re headed there. Unless you’re an Atheist, because then you’re going to spend eternity in a studio apartment with no air conditioning above a Chinese food take-out dump in Washington Heights.
Baseball players go to purgatory too, you know, only they do it while they’re still alive. And there are a ton of players stuck in limbo - for one reason or another. What have they done to deserve such a harsh punishment? I have no clue, but I'm waiting for the day that God gets around to punishing current NFL players, because then, hopefully, guys like Pac Man Jones (you don't like that name anymore? Well, fuck you funny man, you’re stuck with it) will be routinely raped by a gigantic white gay man named "Mac Delicious".
But until this comes true, us caring sports fans (no) will have to watch in pity (and slight amusement) as these stand-up-guys continue to deliver stellar numbers day-in and day-out while their fan base worries more about what type of chic/homo-erotic clothing is in style this Spring, or what kind of new swelling-of-the-heart-food will kill them quickest.
1. Roy Halladay
He's an absolute beast, a Cy Young Award winner, and the kind of guy who will take the mound and at the very least, keep the other team honest (AK-term alert). Unfortunately for Halladay, Toronto has awarded his fortitude by never allowing him to play in a post season game. My advice to Roy? Run. Run when you're contract expires. Run the fuck away from those non-caring, French-speaking cocksuckers (Me = assumes everyone in Canada speaks French). Go play for a team that doesn't set up golf tournaments with an annual October 4th start date. No matter how hard David Eckstein cries, you have to go.
Movin’ On Up Date: 2010
Age at Above Date: 34
Prognosis: Unless he’s duped into another contract extension by that fucking guido J.P. Riccardi, Halladay should be getting his pictures taken for his passport. But if not, than he deserves each and every anally punishing visit from Mac.
Movin' On Up Date: 2012
Age at Above Date: 31
Prognosis: By that point, his shit should be already packed and ready to go.
3. Matt Cain
Cain is an Ace in waiting. And why is he “in waiting”? Because he plays for a team that would lose a home run derby to a picnic table. What makes things so bleak is, according to scouts, San Francisco doesn’t have an answer on the horizon either, because their farm system is starving for power-prospects. So Cain will be stuck with numbers similar to his 2007 mark: 7-16, 3.65 ERA, 163 K. Fun!
Movin' On Up Date: 2011
Age at Above Date: 27
Prognosis: Unless San Francisco stops taking retard medicine and starts to realize that guys like Randy Winn and Bengie Molina are not building blocks, Cain is willing (and Abel – zing!) to leave.
4. Nick Markakis
Say what you want about the Greeks (don’t mind if I do: They’re selfish, hairy, greasy, creepy, prick-ish and a little gay – just kidding AK…kind of), but leave good ol' Nick out of that debate. He can hit, field, steal bases and make sick Spanakopita. But he plays in Baltimore, which is similar to playing “Try not to catch Syphilis” in Grand Central’s men’s room while gagged and blindfolded and with one leg tied to your back.
Movin' On Up Date: Still eligible for one more year of arbitration, so probably 2010.
Age at Above Date: 27
Prognosis: About as gone as you would be if you decided to drink too much in Baltimore's Inner Harbor, wander five blocks north into the ghetto, and then start a ‘Hitler’ chant.
5. Jason Bay
His name has been involved in about 50 trade rumors, starting all the way back in February, but he’s still rotting in Pittsburgh, still hoping to see his name on the Sportscenter ticker so he can burn his house down and take a shit on the Ampipe High School football field. Maybe if he leaves Pittsburgh then he’ll get some sort of recognition, because as long as he's there, he either needs to hit 60 HR’s or cure cancer to even be mentioned in the same breath as that walking pile-of-shit Ben Roethlisberger.
Movin' On Up Date: End of 2009
Age at Above Date: 31
Prognosis: He’ll probably be gone by the time you finish reading this sentence…because you’re retarded.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Well, I'm back from vacation and let me just say, nothing says welcome home like the sweet-and-sour smell of piss and puke on the subway platform, followed by the coma-inducing smell of hot garbage on the streets of beautiful Manhattan. It absolutely trumps the smell of the ocean and the taste of 57 Coors Lights while sitting on a deck in the breezy late-afternoon sun. Abso-fucking-lutely.
Anyway, bitterness aside, I have a few predictions to make before I venture out into the 95 degree heat to buy a $12 sandwich.
The Mets will win the NL East
Oh, what's this - Doc is rooting for the Mets? No, I'm really not, but I just don't see any other team doing it - and by "any other team", I mean the Phillies, because the rest of the division is as competitive as a Spelling Bee at Neptunes in the Hampton's. The Phillies do have a stacked lineup, and they did just get Joe Blanton, but their rotation overall is still shaky, especially when you're expecting 200 innings from a guy older than your mom, AKA Jaime "Chris Cooper" Moyer. If Oliver Perez has finally put down the gravity bong and Jose Reyes stops getting his period every 4 days, the Mets have no reason not to runaway with the crown, especially since Philadelphia decided to not be good anymore.
Bob Geren's Face Will Explode
Have you seen oddity of science? It's amazing - his face looks like someone is constantly grabbing the sides of it and tugging it forward as hard as they can. That, or he's going mock-5 backwards. It's weird. Plus he has to deal with an evil GM who lets Geren think the A's might have a shot at contending, and then deals away his whole rotation. I think Billy Beane gets off on pissing off his managers. That or he's a sadistic cocksucker who likes torturing old men.
The Cubs Will Lose in the Divisional Round of the Playoffs
I can see it now, the Cubs go into the first round heavy favorites, and then get swept. Elderly tears are shed, and a whole city collapses in a heap of weepy self-pity. And then this guy laughs his fucking ass off, because you know what? Fuck them and their stupid "curse" - maybe if you grow up and stop believing in fake shit you might be able to realistically watch sports and blame bad play instead of some higher power...fucking fatso's.
Lance Berkman will get Screwed out of the NL MVP
This one is inevitable. His numbers will be outstanding, but somehow, someway, he will come in third place in the voting. Not even second. And no one will be able to explain it. Most likely, Chase Utley will win it, and writers will hold a circle jerk over the fact that 3 Phillies won it 3 years in a row. I think sportswriters hold it against poor Lance because he's a little on the tubby side, and they are self-loathing wastes of life. And even though this is pure speculation, I have a feeling inner-hatred comes into play in the Big Puma MVP shunning.
Here's a quick Creepy Comparison, because all I could think about during the Home Run Derby, was A) We get it - Josh Hamilton's just like Roy Hobbs, so shut the fuck up - and B) Josh Hamilton is bound to grab the microphone and say, "Here's what I want to do with you: I want to wrap you in Saran Wrap, and cut two holes - one for your mouth, so you can breath, and one for your..."
*check out this linkfor some nostalgia.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
(Click photos to enlarge, they're a bit clearer that way)
I just couldn't help myself
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
- I know it's a bit late, but I just couldn't let this one go. John Danks should have been on the All-Star team. It's the biggest snub that no one's talking about. Here are the #'s:
19 Starts/7-4 record/114.2 IP/94Ks/31 BB/8 HR/2.67 ERA/1.15 WHIP/.234 BAA/7.4 K/9
- Not to mention that in his 8 no decisions he's given up 3 runs or less and pitched at least 5.2 innings in 7 of them. This guy could LEGITIMATELY be 14-4 if his team scored any runs for him. And, if you take out his 1 bad start this season, he hasn't given up more than 4 runs in ANY of his other 18. He's been one of the most consistant starters in the AL this year and no one cares. CRIME.
- Jones Zone: Currently batting .376 through 83 games. He's 4 for his last 20, a stretch that saw his average drop from .388. Loser.
- Howard Watch: 129 K's through 96 games. On pace for 218K's. Number of games this season in which he has NOT struck out: 15. He's got the average up to .234, so I guess he's got that going for him.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Monday, July 14, 2008
A little courtosey FYI to all you loyal WMHG? readers out there... I'll be attending the 2008 MLB Home Run Derby tonight, and will be blogging live from Section 53 in the left field bleachers!
Now, of course, that's completly false. Primarily because I have no idea what 'blogging live' would consist of. Anyway, I'll be there and I'll be snapping away with my digital camera so hopefully I'll have plenty of photos to upload and lots of balls to take home and cherish (get your minds out of the gutter on that one, guys)
Friday, July 11, 2008
There's one huge, gaping difference between the two faces above: Success...and popularity, and money, and dignity, and recognition...okay, there's a fucking ton. But who doesn't love a first round bust in the NFL, especially if it's a QB? Me, I'm a sadistic bastard - I fucking love to see teams overscout and then fail with their precious first rounders. J.P. Losman, the handsome, Hannakah celebrating man on the left, came out of Tulane a cocky, brash, gunslinging QB, who sometimes made poor choices on the field, and had a habit of folding like a fat boy under interrogation when presented with a box of glazed Krispy Kremes. But Losman interviewed at the NFL Combine well and showed off his cannon during his pro-day workout. Mental makeup and a tendancy to wilt under pressure vs. cool hair and the deep ball - which one do you take? Buffalo had a hard on for him, and now they're stuck with a multi-million dollar backup. Up yours, Ralph Wilson.
Sandler's still relevant, contrary to popular belief. But my problem with him is, he's relevant for the wrong reasons, and I think he has the mildly retarded majority of the movie-going American public figured out. Why make quirky, weird, creepy funny movies that develop cult statuses like he did in the beginning of his career, when you can make cheesy, hokey, I-want-to-club-everyone-over-the-audience-with-a-prosthetic-leg, unfunny piles of shit and make a assload of money? There's no reason not to, right? Where was I going with this. Oh, right, nowhere.