Ah, the eve of Game One of the World series. This year's match-up actually has some decent story lines and notes of intrigue. I've also watched more baseball the past month than I have the past two years, due to my current status as "unemployment sports junkie."
Here are some brutal thoughts about the past few weeks of post season baseball, plus some stupid predictions for the upcoming Championship.
Note: These are all so fucking unimaginably hostile and X-rated because most sports reporting is so dag-gum boring and cliched and soulless.
1. Ryan Howard is Hilariously Fat
Who tormented the Yankees more than anyone over the past decade? That beefy, steroid-toting left-handed hitting Cheshire Cat, David Ortiz, of course. Equally chunky and clutch, Ryan Howard is the younger, pre-washed-up replica of Big Papi.
Prediction: He will eat Phil Hughes and Joba Chamberlain. After they're digested, he'll poop them out on George Steinbrenner's lawn. Then, he'll top it all off with some of Nick Swisher's shaving cream pies. And T-Bag him.
Oh, Ryan Howard's hilarious appetite. He will hit at least two home runs in Yankee Stadium due to that cheap right-field porch in the first two games. They won't be off Sabathia, he's too damn good, but everyone else on the Yankees are sissies and are getting devoured by the Ryan Howard demented food machine. By the end of the series, Yankees fans are going to be cursing like Susie in "Curb Your Enthusiasm."
Example: "That Fat Fuck!"
2. Alex Rodriguez, or, Tupac Resurrection 2
I guess it's time to admit that I'm a diehard Red Sox fan. Shit. I hate A-Rod. But, for some reason, after he got caught this year for doing steroids, loathing him seemed passe. He's been humiliated in every situation in his life. Think:
He was sent to NY, choked in every post-season, and never won a World Series.
Jason Varitek kicked his ass.
He slapped Bronson Arroyo's glove like a pussy.
He was dumped by Madonna after she ruined his family.
He got caught doing steroids.
My calculations: his public life, personal life, and baseball life, all equate to numero uno loser status. You can't get lower than Alex Rodriguez. Sure, he has a lot of money and he's famous. But who the hell actually, genuinely, likes the guy? Hating on A-Rod seemed like fucking a dead corpse. I am a lot of things. I am not a necrophiliac. So, this season, I stopped despising him.
Until...
3. The Announcers, Part 1
I changed my mind again. Fuck A-Rod. Fucking guy cannot be less likable.
I place the blame entirely on the announcers. My theory is they're given five topics before each game, pre-approved by their producers. Then, they're instructed to find a way to work every angle of these five topics for the entire game, or until the horse is sufficiently beaten into submission. I know they're supposed to be family-friendly, ratings-friendly, Midwestern-friendly, and all that. But why do they have to treat the audience like we're all retarded and autistic at the same time?
Fuck. If I hear another goddamn A-Rod resurrection story, I am going to buy two slabs of wood, some nails, and stab Tim McCarver in the throat with a Bowie knife. Then, I'll latch his saggy body onto a fat fucking cross. Next, I will point a gun at Joe Buck's head and force him to announce and record, in summary, my brutal torture and eventual murder of Tim McCarver. After that is all said and done, Mr. Buck will sit in a room, alone, and re-listen to the tape of his summary of Tim McCarver's murder, as an IV slowly drips poison into his veins. He'll die after three days. There will be no goddamn resurrection.
4. Whew: The Best Two Teams Made the Championship
The Dodgers sucked. The Cardinals and Rockies sucked ass.
The Angels sucked. The Red Sox, Twins, and Tigers sucked ass.
Need I say more?
4. Pitching Match-Ups = Orgasm
I am a certified baseball nut-bag. It all began with my obsession with nasty ass pitching. I could never throw very hard so I never got a chance to flaunt my junk on the mound. My dirtbag coaches always stuck me in the outfield, a perfect place to observe the strange subtleties of pitching. (I eventually developed into an average outfielder.)
Pedro Martinez is my favorite athlete of all-time. I saw him pitch in his prime for very average Red Sox teams. He's the best pitcher ever. Seems fitting he's pitching in Game 2 of this series. My predictions:
Game 1: Sabathia vs. Cliff Lee
Indians fans must be pissed. I would feel bad for them, if they hadn't swept the Red Sox in the 1995 play-offs and destroyed that year of my childhood (I was 8). Mo Vaughn and Jose Canseco had like one hit the whole series. Fuck the Indians.
I think Sabathia will kill and Lee will kill and there will be like 3 runs scored.
Yankees will win this one. Just a gut feeling, really.
Yankees win 2-1.
Game 2: Pedro vs. Burnett
Holy shit, Pedro is going to kick the Yankees' asses. There is no fucking way Pedro Martinez does not pitch seven shut-out innings in this game. Burnett will get crushed by Ryan Howard in the fourth inning, for a three-run homer, and that'll be game 2. Burnett sucks. Trust me, if he doesn't have his curveball, he's worthless. Kind of the opposite of Pedro.
That homer will turn the series around.
Phillies win 3-0.
Game 3: Pettitte vs. Hamels
This game will decide the series, no doubt. Old man Pettitte will forget to take his HGH pills, Hamels will forget to smoke some Crystal Meth, and it'll be an old-fashioned, ten-runs-each, shoot-out.
Which brings me to:
5. The Bullpens
The Phillies closer, what's his name, sucked this year, another one of those stories that the "average fan could grasp," and was beaten to death.
Holy shit, I almost forgot:
6. The Announcers, Part 2
As annoying and bland Joe Buck and Tim McCarver are, they can't match the second-worst announcing team ever (the worst team is Joe Morgan with anyone), Chip Caray and Ron Darling. (I like Buck Martinez, he doesn't count here). I've spent most of my malicious raping energy on the above desecration of the Fox crew, but holy shit. Holy. Shit. Holy. Fucking. Shit.
Dear Mr. Caray and Mr. Darling,
You suck. You made my head menstruate and my eyes combust and my nose vomit and my butt sore. TBS should have fired you both after the first play-off game, the play-in-game, between the Twins and Tigers, after Caray said , "It's a hit," line, when the ball was caught, during probably the most dramatic moments of the game. (If you don't remember this, google/youtube it).
Cal Ripken, Dennis Eckersley, and David Wells sat in a studio and analyzed the hell out of all the games. They were unbelievably interesting and hilarious. Why weren't they the regular announcers?
Fuck you, Chip Caray. Eat dildos and fuck pigeons and midgets.
Fuck you, Ron Darling. Lick a hippopotamus' clitoris.
5. ...Continued, The Bullpens
I still don't trust Mo Riviera. Remember, the 2004 ALCS? Mwahahaha.
I don't think the Yankees have faced a proper team yet. I think the Phils actually have some good hitters on their squad, unlike the Angels, who had zero good hitters. Vladimir Guerrero looked like the gimp from Pulp Fiction, without the mask.
I don't really trust the Phils closer, whose name I can't remember, but goddammit, I hate the Yankees.
So anyways, Game 3 comes down to the bullpens, which will be a closely contested, 11-10, Philies victory.
7. Game 4 - Lee vs. Sabathia
I think that the Angels, if they actually had any hitting, had a good chance to beat Sabathia on three days rest last series.
Nobody was very good at hitting with runners in scoring position on that team. It shocks me that they won 2 games, but then again, this is why I think:
The Phillies win game 4 with relative ease. Cliff Lee has been the very best pitcher in the postseason, the Philies are nasty at home, and Sabathia will eventually have a bad game and get hit on.
Phillies win 5-2
8. The Managers
Mike Scioscia, you fucking ruined your chances of John Lackey coming back to Anaheim. He's a free agent, you idiot, you should have never taken him out of that game with the bases loaded and have Darren Oliver try to stop Mark Texeria. (Fuck, that's not how you spell his name. Fuck him and his stupid wife.)
You were so lucky the Angels had to face the Phil Hughes ape. The Yankees should've won the pennant in Anaheim.
Which brings me to my point: Joe Girardi, you gotta learn from your compadre Scioscia. Don't over-manage anymore, you moron. Just stick with what got you here: your starting pitching and your massive amounts of homers. Don't put in your bullpen unless your starters are absolutely dying out there. Especially with the game on the line. Unless it's Mo, but still, he's going to implode, I can feel it.
Manager for the Phillies, Leo Derocher or Charlie Manual, or whatever, you've got the better team. Just don't poop your pants and you'll do fine.
9. Game 5
Pedro Martinez, his hair on fire, his screwball back, and his swagger in full effect, throws a no-hitter and wins the World Series for the Phillies.
Prediction: Phillies win in 5
10. Pedro Martinez Returns to Boston
After helping the Phillies win the World Series, Pedro Martinez returns to Boston, signs a fat deal, punches out JD Drew, and is injured five weeks into the season. The Red Sox don't make the playoffs, the Yankees win their second pennant in a row, and I become the Boston Herald's Red Sox beat reporter. And then rise up the ranks, become general manager of the Red Sox, and name Pedro Martinez the Opening Day Starter player-manager.
Ah, I think this is enough junk. Any questions?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment