Friday, June 02, 2006

Scared Shitless' Mexican Standoff

Old Backwoods Chollie sucked in the stew of pollutants in the Los Angeles, Mexico air and declared an impossible expectation for the 11-game road trip, their longest of the season.

“We gotta play .500 ball,” he said, demonstrating not only his ignorance of mathematics, but his inability to accept his team’s numerous frailties, not the least of which was Gavin Floyd’s disaster of a season.

Chollie trotted out Scared Shitless to the mound in Chavez Latrine, an aging, derelict pit populated by rich whores in the box seats, tattooed gangbangers in the mezzanine and illegal aliens surrounding them from all sides. As this Aztlan polyglot of misguided leftist idiots chomped on foul Dodger Dogs and shitty sushi, their ballclub, a reconstituted alphabet soup of oft-injured veterans and unproven newcomers, feasted on the terrified Floyd’s undercooked offerings and turned Team Vomit’s night into a regurgitated upchuck.

Scared Shitless, who has a league-worst 7.29 ERA, just might have punched his ticket back to the minors after his clueless showing last night. He was done before the clock struck midnight in Philly and certainly most fans kissed their wife goodnight after watching enough after four innings. Why lose sleep in the hope of watching the Fightless climb out of a 7-0 hole?

Well, I did, and they didn’t. But I saw enough after Clueless surrendered three homers, the first a three-run shot to rookie Matt Kemp in his twelfth major league at-bat. It was worth three runs because Floyd continued this year’s team obligation to allow the opposing pitcher fat pitches to get hits. After Derek Lowe, his opposite number, smacked a double off the blue center-field wall for a two-out double, he walked Rafael Furcal and characteristically lost his mind to Kemp, the next hitter.

The Dodgers smelled blood, and they jumped on Floyd again in the fourth. He allowed a solo shot to rookie Russell Martin before recording two outs to set up the coup de grace – a three-run dinger to the hated J.D. Drew to seal the deal. It was 7-0, and I began searching the drawers for a large battery to throw – not at Drew, at Floyd.

This kid needs to be sent away NOW. Enough is enough. And Team Psycho has plenty of SoCal connections – Utley, Lieberthal and Rowand in the starting lineup and tonight’s starting pitcher, Ryan Madson, to name a few – so maybe somebody’s mother can take them to her tit and wet nurse them. Or maybe Chollie can hail an Armenian cab from the hotel to tour Skid Row and drink a pint with a bum. Something, anything to focus their sorry asses.


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