Friday, July 07, 2006

Guillotine Night

Devil Rays fans, don't leave your seats. After tonight's game we'll cart out each Rays hitter and behead them. Don't worry, they'll probably be smarter afterwards. (Great job by Seo on the hill, though.)

First inning, Beelzebub Rays get second and third with no one out. The run should have scored by this time anyway, if it wasn't for a baserunning blunder. Baldelli comes up and lines out to short. Even though the game was just minutes old, I was yelling at the screen for the guy to just swing a little easier, and you've got a sac fly to center. Any ground ball also would've scored the run, as the infield was back. Same thing for the next hitter, Huff, who popped out. Before the next hitter struck out, to end the inning. This is off Jaret Wright, mind you.

In the third, it was Mr Dunbar's old pal, Chan Q. Umpire, who got him out of trouble. With a man on third and two out, Rocco (, Louie Rocco) clearly checked his swing with two strikes. The third base ump held up the fist, which is baseballese for "Thanks for the yacht, George." You know, I'd love it if some respected sportswriter were forced to watch a season's worth of Yankee games, so she or he could report back to the rest of the country just how many advantages they get. Because nobody believes me. I'm just some dude who calls for group decapitations for one loss in July.

In the next inning, classic Yanks, as Bernie, with two outs and a slug on second, tops a weak grounder that bounces over the pitcher and finds its way into the outfield. Giambi scores, and then I watch as the freaking Devil Rays can't muster up anything the whole game, and the one cheap run stands up. It ended as Huff decides he's already been beaten by Mariano, takes a sluggish hack, grounds weakly to the right side, puts his soon to be cut off if I had my druthers head down, and takes a fifty-five foot jog toward the vicinity of first.

To put it mildly, and to make it two Jerky Boys One references, I'm very angry at those little jerks.

But not to worry, we'll take care of our own pleasure (remember, baseball is not a business) against the Peckerwood Prostitutes, Honky Hose, White Sox, whatever you wanna call those midwestern Yankees. I'm not comparing them to Torre's Yanks, but Morrow's. Vic, that is. From the first Bad News Bears film.

Okay, I'm realizing now that Morrow was actually killed by having his head cut off. I didn't mean for this post to come full circle. I apologize to the Morrow family.

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