Wednesday, April 19, 2006

Clown Boys Come Home


What’s so funny, Bobby Abreu?

Could it be all those empty seats at your team’s ballpark? Are you listening to Asswipe Chris Wheeler’s “color” analysis under your helmet? Are there Ben Wa balls up your butt hole?

Bobby, is it really appropriate to snicker as you step up to the plate down by three runs with six outs to go? Good Time Chollie the Manager must’ve farted, right? Hey, that’d put a smile on my face, too. You got to be happy he no longer needs the colostomy bag.

And maybe I’d be giggling if I had won a Gold Glove last season and looked like a drunken beer-leaguer getting turned around by two playable flies that landed over my head in right field last night. Was the award for your outstanding defensive prowess a nod to Venezuelan nut job Hugo Chavez? A little olive branch smothered with crude oil and papaya, maybe? Or was that his fat brother standing out there looking helpless as he subbed for you while you fucked his sister?

Please tell me you should look like you care about winning for your $13 million a year.

Jesus Christ.

I had a bad feeling the night was going to be ugly when third base coach Bill Dancy, an uncalculated risk taker, waved Jimmy Rollins home with NO OUTS in the first inning after an Aaron Rowand double. Rollins was gunned down with two crisp throws to the plate, easily snuffed out by the length of two horses’ asses. It’s notable that Washington Nationals shit-disturber Alfonso Soriano notched his league-leading third assist of the year as a left-fielder, a position he adamantly refused to play until his bad-ass manager, Frank Robinson, who never got fucked with as a player, told Soriano in a language common to all the game’s millionaires – money – that if his highness didn’t want to assume a position in the outfield, the team was going to assume he didn’t want to get paid.

Soriano assumed the position.

You got to like Robinson. He doesn’t like the young’ens attytood, and refuses to put up with their childish shit. When he was a player -- and he was one of the all-time greats -- he stood practically over the plate with a heavy bat and dared the pitcher to hit him. He was often obliged. But he didn’t complain, took his lumps, and happily jogged to first. The inside of the plate was his, and if a pitcher saw fit to argue with that, he’d take his base, thank you.

Now Chollie is another story. Born on a bus in West Virginny (cue the banjo, please), this guy wants to be everybody’s buddy. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind drinking some ‘shine with the hillbilly, but for Chrissakes, Chollie, don’t let your guys tell jokes with the catcher during the late innings when you need runs – and start acting like your job depends on it.

Starting pitcher Cory Lidle didn’t do all that bad – seven full innings, four earned runs – but if Chollie or, more importantly, General Manager Pat Gillick is satisfied with a bullpen that bends over and gets fucked for six runs in the last two frames, well, that’s textbook masochism. The grand slam to Ryan Church, who didn’t make his team out of spring training, hurts like a bitch.

The Comcast Yes Men asked Chollie before the game how he projected the 10-game home stand to play out.

“I don’t want to project,” he said. “I don’t want to scare anybody.”

There are three kinds of clowns, Chollie. Happy, sad and scary. If you don’t want to be the scary one, at least advise the millionaires that if they can make pitchers fear them, they’re doing something right. But right now, they're one sad bunch.

Ringling Bros. comes to town Thursday. The team should go see how the pros do it.

9 Comments:

Blogger superlong said...

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19/4/06 7:57 AM  
Anonymous KoolEarl said...

The Great Satan At Large has a Phillies blog! Excellent

19/4/06 3:01 PM  
Blogger Tacony Lou said...

Super,

I'm sure your penis is adequate for making anyone miserable; however, my misery is confined to the ballpark. Thanks anyhow, and keep on reading.

19/4/06 10:40 PM  
Blogger Tacony Lou said...

koolearl,

It would be even cooler to know how you found out about the blog -- misery loves company.

19/4/06 10:41 PM  
Anonymous KoolEarl said...

Linked from reading a posting on the Philly.com Phillies board.

19/4/06 11:22 PM  
Blogger Tacony Lou said...

kool,

Cool. Do we know each other? Great Satan was never discussed on philly.com. Not that it matters, but I was on the horn to a few old Tucson friends this week, and I imagine they are spreading the word. Let me know...

20/4/06 12:23 AM  
Anonymous ChuckM said...

Sure do Lou, from waaaay back. A few hints...Abes Steaks, Y-DI and the last time I saw you was at a party at my old crib on top of Philadelphia Eddies Tattoos @ 9th and Arch just after you got back from Tucson. I got this blog bookmarked and will spread around...drop me a line cjmeehan@yahoo.com (the moniker is from the old famour 60's era tagger KoolEarl, but I'll use my real name from here on). ps. Neil/Jackal Y-DI tends bar at Harry the K's doen the park!

20/4/06 11:28 AM  
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