Three Up, Three Down
Today is election day here in the Chi. Rahm. Carol. Chico. Some other guy. Those are your choices for mayor. Oh… I mean, those are your Democratic party choices. In this town, Republicans just hang out at the local deep dish joint and get fat, occasionally showing up to an event to slam a Democrat or two. Such slams are rarely heard. Like they say, if a tree falls…
And don’t worry. When I showed up to vote this morning I didn’t let that pesky ghost of Ron Santo standing outside the polling center sway me. And judging by the turnout (or lack thereof), I don’t think anyone else is voting him in either.
Some things never change… like…
MR. KRAUSE’S WAR!
So, will you or won’t you, dear readers? Will you follow my jaded and oft lugubrious colleague, Mr. Allen Krause, to the trenches of a baseball-less existence… all to stick it to a guy (assuming Bud Selig does have proper male anatomy) who doesn’t care, who isn’t listening, who won’t get it anyway? Are you really ready to stay home and watch Maury all day instead of batting practice? Are you prepared to sulk in the reality that is a soulless sports sanctuary that includes *cough* the NBA and NHL? You do know that this has nothing to do with forcing change (why bring it up just now after all these years?) and everything to do with misery loves company, right?
It’s true dear readers… and it’s all the fault of…
Who else is to blame for Mr. Krause’s sudden bout of revolutionary activism? Why it can only be his beloved man-crush Miguel Cabrera, of course! With Miggy’s er… uh… “issues” causing alarm throughout the Tigers organization, Mr. Krause knows that his team’s season could be well over before it even starts. And that is why he is rushing to react, to draw in troops, to overthrow the baseball world so we all lose sight of Detroit slipping below Kansas City in the win column.
Believe it. Or don’t. Just don’t say you weren’t warned by someone in the know.
And… don’t hate me. ‘Cuz I’m right.