October 2008
Enouph Phriggin’ Phun with the Phillies “Ph”
Believe me, Philly Phans, I pheel ya. As a Cardinals phan and White Sox supporter, I know phirst-hand what exuberance and exaltation comes with celebrating a World Series championship. Indeed, it’s so ecstatically mind-blowing that one can easily phathom losing all sense of grammatic aptitude and phonetic inpherence.
I’m just sayin’… enouph is enouph.
Because, yeah, we get it.
We understand that the Philly “Ph” is phun to insert into newspaper headlines and crawler teasers phrom the major news organizations. We understand that, phor Philly phans who have had nothing to cheer phor during the last twenty some odd years, that this is a big phriggin’ deal and you want to make some noise. We understand that up until that last out was recorded, yours was as phormidable a task as you could possibly phathom and that phear of being unable to phinish would always be phound in the back of your mind.
We understand.
We’re just tired of it.
Jump up and down. Knock a few back. Celebrate to your hearts’ content.
Just cool it with the dumb bastardization of the English language, please.
And make sure you get all the partying in before Tuesday, November 4th; because on that day my city, my home, my people will be the center of the world.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeffy
Coming Clean
Last night, as Philly fans celebrated like Sarah Palin look-alikes, I settled back in my easy chair and fervently prayed that I had not just used up all my prediction mojo. See, back when this thing started I picked the Phillies to win the Series, comparing them to a certain junior senator from Illinois. And several weeks later, here we are. The Phillies dominated the Rays in just about every category, much like Obama has been doing to John McCain. But, I think it’s safe to say that no Philadelphia fan felt safe until after the ump called strike three on Eric Hinske last night.
Obama fans should feel the same way. Andrew Sullivan posted this the other day and it pretty much sums up the way things stand right now:
But despite all the concerns, I’m going to go ahead and say it. Obama is the new Brad Lidge and he’s going to close this thing down.
Now, I’d like to take the high road and leave things where they are but I can’t help but gloat a little bit in realizing that I’ve gotten the last word on my good friend, Mr. Lung. See, he doubted my pick from the beginning and even picked the Rays last week while extolling the virtues of his new man-crush. But, the Phillies came through which doesn’t mean much since I am now zero dollars richer as a result.
To be honest, this victory feels a little empty. It’s not that I have anything against the Phillies or regret their win. But, after the money the Tigers spent in the offseason, I was ready to see my team holding up their trophy while Justin Verlander carried off his first World Series MVP Award. It all looked so good in my mind.
I guess that in the end the only option I have is to borrow a refrain heard most often coming from Cubs fans. Next year is our year! Man, I can’t believe I just compared myself to a Cubs fan. Time to go take a shower and wash off the filfth.
-A
Does that make Palin a poor man’s Selig?
Bud Selig. One of the worst baseball commissioners or the worst? Discuss amongst yourselves. Only a man who has the hubris to continue in his position after the steroid scandal could possibly have given us Monday night’s bizarre reading of the rules. Hey, here’s an idea for you. If the weather is so crappy it’s going to be hard to get the game in and there’s a possibility of a suspension or a shortened game, DON’T PLAY THE F&%$ING GAME! Wait a day. What else is going on in the baseball world that makes it absolutely necessary to play the game that night? And if you have enough authority to circumvent the rules, why not go whole hog and unilaterally postpone the game?
This is the difference between George W. Bush and Bud Selig. They both think they’re “The Decider” but only one of them has the will to actually go through with it. People may not agree with W and his decisions but at least he made them while they still counted. Selig is a poor man’s W, a John McCain, if you will:
And that’s where we stand, dear readers. The World Series and this baseball season could be over this evening. And the election could be over by this time next week (barring any Florida or Ohio based shenanigans). But unlike Bud Selig, we can make a decision and that’s why we’ll still be here for you tomorrow, next week and for as long as it takes.
-A
Let’s Get It Right, Shall We?
As if the ho-hum disinterest of the 2008 World Series wasn’t enough to slow us down, now we die-hards have to wait and see what happens with mother nature before our venerable King Bud passes down his judgment so that the game can ultimately go on. Having fully digested this oddity of baseball circumstance, the feeling I have now is eerily similar to that which I had on Election Night 2000 when a clear winner for the White House could not be determined with 100% accuracy. Instead, I was forced to wait… and wait…
…and then suffer — for eight years.
But in this case, such doom seems unlikely. In fact, with Hamels out and David Price in (maybe?) I’d say the advantage definitely goes to the Rays; which means there is hope that I will conclusively prove Mr. Krause wrong (yet again)!
I like that.
What I don’t like is public displays of idiocy: GW Bush, Amy Winehouse, MLB.com.
Yeah, I said it.
Because when I logged on this morning to get an update on the weather situation, the graphic they had blasting over the front page had a couple of big fat ugly typos on it:
Sure, they fixed it about an hour after I first saw it, but in this line of business, there is no excuse for misspelling words — even if it seems like people from Pittsburgh never pay attention to baseball. And unless the Roots are designing graphics for MLB.com, “Phildelphia” is not a real place.
We here at RSBS have a full staff of highly educated pompous grammar-wh0re proofreaders — and by “full” I mean Mr. Krause and I. But that seems to –
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WE INTERRUPT THIS POST TO ANNOUNCE THAT WE HOPE TO RESUME WRITING SAID POST AS SOON AS THE ELEMENTS ALLOW AND WE’D JUST LIKE TO ADD THAT WE DON’T KNOW WHEN THAT WILL BE EXACTLY BUT WE PROMISE THAT IT WILL ADD TO THE ANTI-CLIMACTIC NATURE CLEARLY EVIDENT IN BASEBALL THE LAST COUPLE OF DAYS SO YOU’LL AT LEAST GET WHAT YOU’VE BEEN GETTIN’
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Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeffy
OUCH!!!
Awwww SNAP! The Phillies went postal on Sunday night and in their brutal wake left the Rays looking as stunned as they are youthful.
By the time Game Four was over, I personally felt as abused as the Rays pitching staff — embarrassed, downtrodden and mentally defeated. To see me, you would’ve thought that I was the one who gave up a homerun to Phat Joe.
Yet my troubles on this October afternoon have less to do with who wins the World Series and more to do with simply being wrong in my prediction of a Rays victory. Admittedly, I’ve been wrong once or thrice in my lifetime. And that’s okay, folks. I am perfectly comfortable with my fallibility (as minuscule as it may be); however, nothing is more aggravating, more disturbing, more gut-wrenchingly abominable than being wrong while my colleague, the infamously reprehensible Mr. Krause, is proven correct.
And if the Rays don’t win three in a row, that’s exactly how it’ll be.
Because Mr. Krause picked the Phillies to win at the beginning of post-season play and I laughed in his German engineered face, I foresee my impending doom: public defamation and blogospheric torture by way of one misanthropic pedant: Mr. Allen Krause himself.
Whatever.
It ain’t over yet, and until it is, I’m standing my ground.
In fact, I have much bigger things to be upset about right now, like Winter invading the Second City on this wind-ridden drib-drab blah of a day:
Go Rays.
Make me look good so I can lambaste: “Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.”
Peace,
Jeffy
The Filibuster
This year’s World Series features two young and talented teams who
could really dominate their respective leagues for the foreseeable
future. Although the Phillies hold a 2 games to one edge, the Series
has been very evenly matched so far with outstanding pitching and
clutch hitting. But no one is watching it. What does this say about the
state of baseball?
– Allen
___________________________________________________
Clearly, Mr. Krause, it says that the state of US America is in so much disarray with Joe the Plumber, Joe Six-Pack and Joe No Money In His Pocket that
people aren’t even taking the time to relax and enjoy the greatest game on earth. Yesterday’s walk-off win? Whether you’re a Phillies fan, Rays fan or still disgruntled about your team falling a part and watching from home, those are the moments we — as a baseball nation – live for.
But the distractions are many at this poignant time in our great country’s living history. We are on the cusp of making the most important decision of the last sixty years, and while it is true that one man cannot change what has taken eight years to transpire, one worldview — held by and believed in by the people — can.
Admittedly, the networks would like to have us believe this sincere lack of viewership has to do with the absence of a playoff powerhouse (ie the Yankees, the New Yankees, the Los Angeles Dodgers/Angels of Los Angeles/Anaheim) but I think it has more to do with the clear and present danger that currently sits on the ballot boxes of the American people.
That and football is in full swing, which at this point still offers grid iron fans from coast to coast the very real possibility of having a championship in just a few short months (unless you root for the Detroit Lions. Sorry, Mr. Krause).
Personally, distractions abound: politics, day job, moonlighting, dealing with the inherent giddiness of a new and exciting relationship, and of course, being the inspiration for an infamously dynamic duo who dotes on your every move, word, name (see video at approximately the 1:00 mark). Indeed, it is extremely difficult to manage the myriad components bent on taking me away from baseball:
http://services.brightcove.com/services/viewer/federated_f8/1079049493
But in the end, dear readers, I bleed this game — no matter who’s playing — and nothing can or will ever take that away from me.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeffy
Mellow Dramatics
Two games in and there is no denying that the 2008 World Series is a close one between two teams who are relatively new to the national spotlight. For the most part, the pitching has been excellent, the fundamentals have been executed and scores have been close. But despite Joe Buck’s irritating methodology of forcefully over-dramatizing each and every word, this Phillies/Rays series has been putting me to sleep.
And I swear it’s not the booze this time.
For some intangible reason, I just get the feeling that this World Series is somewhat inherently spurious. Perhaps it’s the fake grass that rubs me the wrong way… or the cheeseball John Williams-like teaser music that makes me feel like dinosaurs will suddenly take the field… or maybe it really is that I’m sick and tired of Joe Buck, who turned his back on his demographic earlier this year and sullied one of the greatest names in the history of the game.
The good news is, I have a mute button; I will use it liberally.
And it’s Friday and Fridays are always awesome. In fact, since it’s Friday and there’s no baseball today and we’re getting down to the wire in all things important (baseball and politics) and I’m feeling good about life and it’s raining but not snowing and Halloween is around the corner and North Korea hasn’t blown anyone up yet, I thought: what better way to celebrate than to enjoy a good old political dance-off:
If that didn’t make your day, nothing will.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeffy
Stop the Madness!
“Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”
– Albert Einstein (or those guys at A.A. meetings)
So why do I do it? Why do I continue to support the Chicago Tribune despite their undeniable penchant for making my fair city a cesspool of inferior journalism and third-rate hack reportage that totally alienates those who enjoy reading actual news? Haven’t I broken enough household items over the garbage printed in the Tribune’s sports section? Haven’t I put enough holes in the walls of my apartment? Haven’t I lost my voice enough screaming over this insanity!?!
As if the Trib’s article — printed the day after Opening Day — touting Kosuke Fukudome as a perennial all-star MVP candidate who would most definitely serve as the secret weapon that would get the Cubs a ring wasn’t ludicrous enough. As if the Trib’s full-page special promotion of a book they co-published titled This Is the Year to commemorate the Cubs’ so called “historic 2008 season” before they even played ONE playoff game wasn’t outrageous enough.
No. They just couldn’t stop themselves from making me hate them more and more and more…
As if there wasn’t a World Series going on starring the Philadelphia Phillies and Tampa Bay Rays, the Tribune decided it’d be a great idea to fill precious space on the sports section’s front page with a preposterously pathetic pipedream of an article by Mike Downey called: Cubs Against Rays: The Series to Die For.
Excuse me while I puke.
Is this news? Really? Come on! Get a grip, Tribune! You seriously pay this guy to sit around and think up fairytale scenarios that would feature the Cubs in the World Series while there is indeed a very important WORLD SERIES taking place right NOW?!? Wake up! The Cubs are dead. They’ve been dead. And they ain’t comin’ back to life!
I want to pick up my local newspaper and read about the important things going on in the world — not the private fantasies of Cub fans who just can’t seem to let GO. Apparently my cries, my letters to the editor, my raving rants — all of which have been vehemently directed at the Chicago Tribune and its sub-par sports-writing staff — have been ignored.
But for those of you keeping score at home, please know the following:
1) Kosuke Fukudome? MVP my ^ss.
2) This Is the Year? My local CVS had piles of these strewn about randomly throughout the store with signs saying “FREE” and “PLEASE TAKE ONE” and “MAKES GOOD KINDLING”. I live on the Southside.
and…
3) Sorry, Mr. Downey. Your article is crap.
Oh, and by the way, you might want to pay attention to the real World Series (which the Cubs are not a part of). As Anita, from the hit Broadway musical West Side Story, once said: Smoke on your pipe and put THAT in!
And don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeffy
A Question of Progressive Participle
There’s just one day before the 2008 World Series kicks off and all I can think about is Joe Maddon. Now, now, dear readers, don’t get ahead of yourselves. It’s not his cool and assertive demeanor in the dugout that’s got my mind going and it’s not his ability to rile a bunch of youngsters to the tune of victory either.
It’s his liberal use of the progressive participle.
In the top of the seventh inning in Sunday night’s ALCS Game 7 against the Red Sox, starting Rays pitcher Matt Garza found himself in what could’ve been a serious world of pain. Having just given up a single to Jason Bay, there were men on first and second with only one out; the Rays were holding on to a slim lead — just one bomb away from imploding — when Maddon went out to talk to his pitcher.
Garza stepped off the mound towards his skipper as if to ask “How am I doing?” and the TBS camera crew caught Maddon dead on replying: “You’ve been ****ing awesome.”
Yeah. There was no mistaking it. He used the F-bomb to describe just how awesome Garza hd been doing in front of millions of home viewers.
And believe me, folks: I’m not wrong on this one. I study foreign languages for fun, grew up playing spy games, and until I was about 18 years old, I watched peoples’ mouths when they talked instead of their eyes.
Joe Maddon said “You’ve been ****ing awesome.”
Is there anything wrong with this? Well. No. I guess not. I mean, I’m a grown man myself and assuredly, I have been known to drop quite a few F-bombs when necessary; of course, I’ve never done it live in front of millions of viewers watching my every move on television. And I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit that it certainly distracted me from thinking of Maddon as the intellectual I once thought him to be.
But I guess when “awesome” doesn’t quite get the point across, “****ing awesome” should do the trick.
It worked for Garza.
Will it work against Philadelphia — where the F-bomb was born?
We shall ****ing see!
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeffy
Red State Blue State
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