Results tagged ‘ Hall of Fame ’
No-Brainers Made Complicated: Now It’s the ‘Norm
I’m sorry, but did the National Bureau of Economic Research just inform me and myriad dear readers, that indeed the United States of America’s economy is in a (daresay) recession?
Duh!
I beg your pardon, but did our Dear Leader, in an interview with ABC’s Charlie Gibson, admit his own incompetency by saying “I think I was unprepared for war”?
Doh!
As if the mass exodus of once-successful business owners to the overcrowded unemployment line in my Southside Chicago neighborhood wasn’t reason enough to believe. As if the tense gazes of disgust from world leaders and record low approval rating during Bush II wasn’t enough reason to believe. Well, folks, believe it; and believe that the spindoctors are just going to keep getting more and more convoluted as they assume we US Americans are as dumb as they are obvious.
Because apparently, the new status quo put forth by those in power has regressed to that of an unnecessary complication of issues that should otherwise be clear as day.
This has never been more true as we go into the third year of Mark McGwire Hall of Fame eligibility, where once again, I predict the baseball writers will find it in themselves to be a group of holier-than-thou judgmental jack^sses who consistently confuse clarity with integrity.
Did McGwire use performance enhancing drugs? Maybe. Probably. We don’t know for sure and we never will.
Did McGwire’s awkward Capitol Hill exchange further damage his image and cause us to question his character? Yes. Definitely.
Should it matter when considering him for the Hall of Fame?
Hell no.
Hands down, Mark McGwire should have been a first-time ballot Hall of Famer. His numbers, his performance, his legacy and the positive impact he had on the game alone should have put him in on the first try.
While I dare not minimize the damaging stain PEDs have left on the game of baseball as well as the youth of our nation, I still believe in the democratic principle of one being “innocent until proven guilty” and until someone proves that McGwire broke the rules, he deserves to be remembered as a Hall of Famer.
Jim Rice, Bert Blyleven, Andre Dawson… sure, waffle on those guys. They deserve to be waffled on a bit because they’re not stand-out no-brainer players. But McGwire? Give me a break. Give him a break.
And beware, for Barry Bonds will soon be in line for the same retrospection. Look, as much as I dislike the man as a human being, I cannot conceive a Hall of Fame without Barry Bonds’ plaque. Baseball writers, your job is not to teach lessons to suspected bad boys. Your job is to reward players for having Hall of Fame careers despite their antics — whatever and as displeasing as they may be. Remember, Ty Cobb, arguably one of the most disgustingly erratic, singly detrimental members of the entire human race, is rightfully in the Hall of Fame.
Get over yourselves, writers. You’re not judges. You’re not the police. You’re not God(s).
Do the right thing and put Mark McGwire in the Hall of Fame. And while you’re doing that, prepare for the barrage of suspect PED users, headlined by one Barry Bonds, who will soon be eligible for HOF consideration.
The world will be watching and I will be quick to slander.
So yeah, go ahead and hate me; I only ask that you don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeffy
Biden Time
It’s official. Joe Biden will be Barack Obama’s running mate for the 2008 presidential election. I’m okay with it. Really. I am.
I only hope that this duo will be reminiscent of the one-two punch of Schilling and Johnson who took it all the way in 2001.
I only hope that this duo will look more like Gehrig and Ruth on the field rather than Gehrig and Ruth off the field.
I only hope that this duo has enough to beat the critics and become the mighty force that Big Papi and Manny Ramirez became in Boston.
Will Biden being Biden become the hottest new catchphrase of 2008? While my hopes against that happening remain high, I would be a liar if I didn’t admit my anxiety that Biden may demand a trade at the very last minute.
Hold on to your seats, folks, dear readers, my fellow US Americans…
We’re just gettin’ started.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeffy
The Trappings of Conformity
I understand that in today’s world there is surmounting pressure to dumb one’s self down in order to gain acceptance — to fit in, to be liked. Satisfaction can be had by the simple click of a mouse; children’s role models come in cute, skinny Paris Hilton and Justin Timberlake packages; department stores offer “free gifts with purchase”, knowing that people are just begging to be duped.
I am not one of those people.
Of course, the backlash can be unsettling, but I remain steadfast in my intelligence despite the ever-growing pressures of modern society. I do my homework. I know I’m right. I am in touch with the people even if that means being smarter than theyare.
Allen Krause, on the other hand, intelligent as he is on paper, fails to overcome the pitfalls of conformity and it has never been more evident than in his last two posts: The Filibuster, 67 Years…and Counting.
I refuse to waste any more time correcting the flawed logical processes of my opponent on the magnitude of hitting .400. I also refuse to delve any further into whether or not today’s players are more prepared than they were 60 years ago due to advancements in technology, scouting, preparation. The bottom line is, I was right the first time, and I still am.
However, there are two major issues I must address here because US Americans deserve to know the Truth and shouldn’t be subjected to the wreckless writings of a man so out of touch with reality and so out of touch with the people’s needs rather than the people’s wants that he is willing to lead conforming masses down Blasphemy Road.
Mr. Krause wrote:
“…Barry Bonds was usually stuck out in right field.”
No, sir. Barry Bonds played left field. Any one who doesn’t know that automatically loses all credibility and doesn’t deserve to have a voice.
Mr. Krause also wrote:
“Willie Mays’ basket catch is replicated on a daily basis by minor leaguers all over the country.”
Oh, really? Is that so, Mr. Krause?
Do me a favor. Sit down, take that tin foil off your head, remove the mainlining needle from your arm and come back to Earth, pal.
Replicated on a daily basis? That is the absolute dumbest thing I have ever heard you say and you’ve said a lot of dumb things. Obviously, you know nothing about one of the greatest baseball moments of all time: Willie Mays and The Catch. And I guarantee you that this play is NOT “replicated on a daily basis by minor leaguers all over the country”. If it was, the so-called players making these so-called plays would be so-called Major Leaguers. Your statement, Mr. Krause, cancels itself out, double-talk, double-talk.
For the record, what made Mays’ catch The Catch wasn’t exactly the act of making an over-the-shoulder basket play on the ball, extraordinary as that was. What made it so spectacular, according to those in attendance, was the fact that Willie was playing a very shallow center field in the extremely spacious Polo Grounds of New York when Vic Wertz connected on a bomb blast. It would have been a home run in today’s ballparks — and it was evident right off the bat that the ball was going to soar over an unsuspecting Mays.
Except Willie Mays had crazy speed.
He broke, he ran and he ran and he ran and he looked up, turned around, put out his glove, caught it, whirled around, fired to second, and his hat fell off.
That was The Catch. A ball that no one else in the world would’ve had a chance to catch. Mays caught it.
Shame on you, Allen Krause, for attempting to steal the thunder from perhaps the greatest baseball player of all time. Shame on you.
In all honesty, I do feel sorry for you, Mr. Krause. It must hurt to know you’re just another victim of the trappings of conformity. It must hurt to be but just a tiny grub in the food chain of a menacing Trapdoor Spider. I can’t imagine what that must feel like — but I’m sure it ain’t good ‘cuz I’ve seen the footage (*note, the good part is at the end):
The Anatomy of Being Absolutely Wrong
This is to you and you only, Mr. Krause: You’re absolutely nuts. You’re absolutely nuts, and you’re absolutely wrong. You’re absolutely nuts, you’re absolutely wrong and your most recent post is absolutely embarrassing.
I have given you a pass on the dumb things that have come out of your posts before — sometimes I merely chided you and sometimes I partook in a bit of playful teasing; but like Hillary and her ill-timed reference to Bobby Kennedy’s June primary assassination, this time, you have gone too far, Al.
And you must suffer the consequences.
When asked if hitting .400 was an unreachable goal, you responded with such infantile and insane statements like:
“…the answer is yes, hitting .400 is an unreachable goal today. There
is so much that goes into just simply getting a hit, a guy who can hit
.300 or better is a catch. I mean, first of all you have to make
contact with balls that are coming at crazy speeds and crazy angles and
then you have to put it into a place where a fielder is not. In the
game today, managers and players alike do their homework and
positioning makes it that much harder to get a decent hit.”
REBUTTAL: You answered the question. I’ll give you that. But your reasoning is reminiscent of George W. in that it’s straight out of Crazytown. ‘Crazy speeds and crazy angles‘? Seriously? The game of baseball (especially this aspect) has changed very little in the last 100 years, Al. ‘You have to put it into a place where a fielder is not‘? Again, since the inception of baseball this has always been the case. Do you even watch baseball? Do you know how it’s played? Have you ever played yourself?
“But the fact of the matter is that the level of competition day in and
day out in the Majors is much greater than it was back when Ted
Williams was scattering the ball all over the field. Besides, he also
froze his head so he can try to come back one day. Only someone who’s
that kind of crazy has a chance at .400.”
REBUTTAL: Really? So you’re saying that when Ted Williams hit .406 in 1941 — when there were just 16 teams in all of Major League Baseball — that the level of competition was less than it is now in 2008? You are aware that there are 30 teams in Major League Baseball now, right? You are aware that nowadays, guys like Geoff Jenkins and Sean Casey and Boof Bonser make it to the majors where as in 1941, they’d be lucky to catch the game on the radio while working at the local laundromat, right? And I’m quite sure that Rogers Hornsby and Ty Cobb didn’t have their heads frozen or anything like that, yet they managed to hit .400 and guess what: they’re Hall of Famers too!
“…the more important matter is what does it matter if someone hits .400?”
REBUTTAL: It matters, Mr. Krause, for the same reason that it matters if someone hits over 60 homers, or hits safely in 56 consecutive games, or gets over 200 hits in a season or steals 100 bases. It matters because it’s really friggin’ hard to do, man! Come on! Get a grip! We’re talking about hitting .400 here, not hitting for a cycle or some arbitrary numbers-related coincidence. Only 33 players in the history of MLB have ever hit over .400 for a season! And no one — I said NO ONE – has done it since 1941! Ty Cobb, Ted Williams, Rogers Hornsby, George Sisler, Joe Jackson… I’d say those names are pretty synonymous with baseball greatness. Again, do you even watch baseball, Allen?
In conclusion, you wrote this:
“No, I don’t think .400 is an achievable goal but I also don’t think
it’s all that important. And that’s all I have to say about that.”
Fine. You’re definitely entitled to your opinion — as wrong as they often are – that it is ultimately an unachievable goal. Who knows, you might even be right. It still seems that the 56 game hitting streak is unrepeatable, so maybe hitting .400 is too. But to say that it is unimportant is absolute blasphemy, heresy, sacrilege. It is disrespectful of the greatest game on earth and the good people (me) who follow it to the nerdiest degree.
Hitting .400 is certainly important, Al.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeffy
You’re Out!
North Carolina Senator John Edwards has come out and pledged his full support to Barack Obama and his bid to become the next president of US Americans. This poignantly placed political pairing has finally come to fruition — just like I and 300 million other US Americans knew it would, which reminds me:
I would like to officially pledge my support to the 1960 Pittsburgh Pirates by backing them in their World Series bid against the New York Yankees. I have a strong feeling (call it a hunch) that the likes of Bill Mazeroski, Don Hoak, Vinegar Bend Mizell, Harvey Haddix, Smokey Burgess, Roberto Clemente and Bob Friend have what it takes to trump a trio of Mantle, Maris and Berra any day — especially in a Game 7 — and I do predict that the Pirates (with my full-fledged, undying, unyielding support) will win this series in seven games. No more. No less. I truly believe that by coming out and supporting the 1960 Pirates at this time, they will overcome what has become known to the overlooked, blue-collar, everyday-white-working-class man as the “same-old-baseball”.
It all stops here.
And along with that, may I just propose that we stop the INSANITY here at Red State Blue State by 1) putting Mr. Krause in restraints 2) methodically replacing the skull that used to be connected to the rest of his body 3) forcing his eyes open a la the Clockwork Orange method 4) putting a 4×6 glossy matte finish photo of the ever-sexy Erin Andrews in front of his face for hours and 5) make him try and say she’s not hot. I dare ya.
If you’re a straight man and you have a pulse, there’s no way you think Erin Andrews isn’t eye candy. She’s gorgeous. She’s smart. She’s savvy. She’s curved in all the right places and she does not have a flat tush. Allen Krause’s outrageously offensive post is done only to get a rise out of his readers. Instead of offering in-depth analysis and proper postulations on the state of the game, he aims for the low-brow shock-jock style of riffing on things he knows are absolutely unfounded. Mr. Krause is the MLblogging equivalent of Don Imus and though his grossly distasteful statements draw him a lot of attention, it is exactly the kind of attention one needn’t have in his life, if he even values his life.
The only other explanation for his thwarted statement of blasphemy is something that… no. Let me stop myself. I won’t go out there on that limb and make such a bold accusation because I do not favor the Limbaugh-style of political dirt-digging, mudslinging and bell-ringing. But I will say, Mr. Krause has been talking an awful lot about how John Garland may well be the most attractive man in all of baseball. I will not comment on it any further…
But for those of you who aren’t convinced at how perfect Erin is… take a gander at this and please don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right…
Peace,
Jeffy
The Filibuster
Tommy LaSorda is fat. I mean really fat. So is John Kruk. Which current
ballplayer or manager is most likely to become grotesquely obese like
these two men?
–Allen
Due to the recent developments and growing notoriety of Red State Blue State, it is certainly arguable that I may have lost any sense of humility I once had. My attorney has advised me to remain silent on this issue, so I will; however, I cannot stop myself from pointing out the increasingly shallow nature of my colleague, Allen Krause. After much deliberation, my agent has advised me to go ahead and tackle this insensitive inquiry despite the possible repercussions because “there is no such thing as bad press.”
So, Al, my aura and I will now address your lowbrow turn from inquisitive, thought-provoking debate:
Yeah, Lasorda is overweight. Kruk is overweight. A slew of baseball folks easily fit into that dangerous weight category. But you know what? That’s just one of the many reasons why I enjoy the game of baseball more than any other sport.
How many competitive sports do you know where a 300 pound man without muscle tone toting around a big, paunch beer belly can be considered a real athlete? Sure, the NFL has 300+ pound men all over the field, but those guys work out and look good (for the most part). Meanhwile, big slobby-lookin’ dudes like David Wells, Bobby Jenks and David Weathers thrive as dominant athletes… well, Wells (used to) and Jenks (does) anyway.
I find it quite satisfying seeing an everyday-lookin’ joe like Jenks or Kruk achieve all that success with such a corpulent physique. It reminds me that baseball is a game that anyone can play — fat guys included — so it creates the illusion that even I, a 29 year old, 5’8, 155 lb. Mandarin-speaking white guy with a 48 mph fastball and a slider that always hangs, could possibly make it to the Big Leagues. Okay, maybe I’m totally wrong on that… but you get my point.
Of course, this isn’t what Mr. Krause wants to hear. What he is really asking is which current manager/player is most likely to be the face of NutriSystem, Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig.
My response?
That is the dumbest question I have ever heard, Al, and you should be ashamed for taking up such precious MLBlog space by asking it. The 2008 season has begun, your team stinks, my team is in first place, the Jason Grilli ERA Watch has dipped considerably (8.44 at the time of this publication), the Diamondbacks are the best team in baseball, the Sawx v. Evil Empire series is in full-force and all you can muster out of that skinny little head of yours is ‘who will be the fattest person in baseball?’
Shame on you.
I see what you’re trying to do: you’re trying to paint me into a corner, force me to make a fool of myself and talk about something else so we will be distracted from the atrocities of the Tigers and your point of view. Mr. Krause, I will not subject our readers to such shallow diatribes.
But I will post some pictures of my favorite plus-size ballplayers, past and present:
So there you have it. 9 of my favorite players with above average appetites. All this writing about it is making me hungry. I think I’ll just have an apple.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeffy
Ode to the Mustachioed
It’s only Wednesday and already it has been a long week. After getting up at 5 a.m. the last two days to watch the Tokyo series, dealing with the stress of work and setting Allen in his place after his slanderous Filibuster, I finally found myself with some downtime. So I turned on my television this evening only to find that it had decided to stop working. To my utter dismay, this happened right in the middle of (daresay!) American Idol. In response, I did what any constrained adult male would do — I hit it as hard as I could, over and over and over again.
It didn’t work.
So it is with ice on my swollen fists and sunglasses over my bulging bloodshot eyes that my mind meanders down that strange path somewhere between dementia, destruction and delusion, which aren’t all that different really. Just ask Dubya.
Jack Morris. That’s who we’ve been discussing the last few days. And after lobbying for him (and discrediting Allen as a Tiger fan) it appears that the more pressing matter regarding the HOF snub is actually his trademark mustache:
"…Jack Morris should get in, if for nothing else, for the unwavering sporting of the 80′s p0rn mustache…over his career. That could quite possibly be a better statistic for consistency than his winning seasons."
Posted by: Tim D. |
March 26, 2008 10:42 AM on The Filibuster
Indeed, Tim. That’s what I’ve been trying to say all along. You just said it better. Let’s take a look at some other famously mustachioed Hall of Famers…
Dennis Eckersley. Like Morris, Eckersley sported this slick-styled "p0rno mustache" during his entire career. I’m not sure if the ‘stache ever led to having to talk to women while naked, but something must’ve been working because that slider was wicked! (except that one hanger to Gibson) At his 2004 Hall of Fame induction ceremony, he was still wearing this trademark blue-collar everyday-joe ‘stache that women seemed to have loved in the 70s and 80s. I tried it once. Didn’t get very far with it. Maybe if I had a slider…
Goose Gossage. Another mustachioed reliever of the game who still carries on the signature ‘stache years, decades past his playing career. Seems to work pretty well because Goose is still scary as ****. In childhood, I refused to collect Goose’s baseball cards because I was convinced he was the devil incarnate, evil, the boogeyman… that he would sneak in my room and knock me down with high heat.
Rollie Fingers. Fingers is proof that there is always room in the starting rotation for a Civil War general. An integral part of the Charlie Finley dynasty, Rollie was paid a bonus for growing a wildly interesting mustache. Who knew he would keep it for the rest of his life — the mustache and the bonus… or that he wouldn’t ever pay taxes on said bonus… or ever pay taxes at all?
Perhaps it is true that the man can’t make the mustache but the mustache can definitely make the man… that is, if anyone were to ever say that. In the meantime…
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeffy
Wrong, Wrong, and WRONG
The entire city of Detroit (sorry, I mean the white suburbs surrounding Detroit) is sobbing right now, Al. Yes, Hockeytown may never forgive you for your slander if you can ever sell enough Girlscout cookies to buy a plane ticket to go back. But why would you, really? You’ve already proven your disloyalty to the keystone of the lonely World Series Championship your team has achieved during your lifetime. Sure, maybe the Hawk, a victim of being the best player on the worst team year in and year out, ultimately doesn’t have what it takes to be in the Hall of Fame (though keep in mind, if he would’ve hit 62 more homers we wouldn’t even be having this conversation). And sure, Jim Rice, though he’s touted as the most dominate player of his league for at least a decade, just misses "defining" the game of baseball. But, Al, Jack Morris? Really? You really believe that Jack Morris doesn’t belong in the Hall of Fame? That he doesn’t deserve his place among the greatest of all time because he didn’t "define the game of baseball"? Well, I hate to tell ya, Al, but you are absolutely WRONG.
Now it would be easy for me to rip you apart here with my diligent statistical analysis and shrewd acumen of baseball inteligencia to prove why I am right, but let me save everyone from having to read a book and make this much easier for you with two words: Jim Bunning. Yeah, I said Jim Bunning — the senator from Kentucky. That’s right. Did you know, Al, that Jim Bunning is in the Hall of Fame?
Did Jim Bunning define the game of baseball, Al? Using your own argument, I have to tell you that Jack Morris did so indeed, my friend. He was the poster-child for consistency, compiling winning records in 15 of his 18 years in the big leagues and twelve times he won 15 games or more during a season! He won 254 games (that’s 30 more than Bunning) in his career, led the ’84 Tigers, the ’91 Twins, the ’92 and ’93 Blue Jays to World Series championships, made 5 All-Star appearances and won a WS MVP, not to mention the absolute wicked nature of his splitter. If only Al Gore had invented the internet a decade earlier, fantasy baseball nerds like me would be drooling to draft him. He was a lock for a strong, injury-free, 15+ game winning season. In other words, he dominated during his career.
And all that leaves him out of the Hall? Perhaps a case can be made for getting just his signature mustache in? An exhibit of the mustache then?
But, Al, you’re not the only one who’s completely wrong on this day…
Hillary Clinton: WRONG. You see, I really must apologize to everyone for not responding to Allen’s heinous post earlier…it’s just, well, gee, I didn’t want to bring any of this up but I guess I should let you all know that on my way to work in downtown Chicago the other day I had to dodge howitzer fire, a couple of grenades and the thirty-third infantry, which kind of set everything back a few days, you know? But jeesh, that wasn’t the half of it. What really got under my skin was having to ride the 62 Archer bus home while we evaded sniper fire from a book depository at Michigan & Roosevelt. While the bus was sliding across the intersection on its side, shooting sparks all over my otherwise pleasant view of the lakefront, I realized I was bleeding from the shrapnel that lodged into the side of my face while I was having lunch with a colleague earlier that day.
I feel much better now.
And all you Manny haters out there upset that he pulled a Barry Bonds move by watching the ball instead of running hard are, in this case, WRONG, too. That game-winning double he hit early this morning was a fantastic start to the season and I wouldn’t have changed it for anything. Do you ever really expect Manny to not watch a high pop fly that has, at the very least, the potential to be a home run? This is Manny Ramirez we’re talking about here. This is the guy David Ortiz says is a crazy matsuzaka. He should’ve been hustling on that play? No way. I wouldn’t have enjoyed it as much without seeing his priceless reaction of oh sh*t that’s not out of here, I better run now… We love Manny because he is so dumb yet so bright, so awkward yet so graceful, so Manny yet so…Manny. Unlike Bonds, he’s a lovable guy. He says funny things. He plays the Green Monster perfectly and he does hustle…sometimes.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeffy
Huckawhat!?!
On an historic night that saw an unprecedented swing of political jockeying,nothing in the entire world was more shocking, more gutsy, more brilliant than Governor Mike
Huckabee. Yes, ladies and gentlemen,
Governor Huckabee did something tonight that he had never managed to before in
his entire 52 years of existence: he said something cool.
In a race that he never should have been in, touting crazy, wacky! ideas like pursuing Jesus as a
possible VP and convincing the late Oral Roberts to raise up from the grave to
handle directorial duties at the Office of Homeland Security, Governor Huckabee finally stood up and did the right
thing. He quit.
And though it came 6 months later than it should have, he followed his
resignation from the race with one of the greatest concession speeches
ever. He quoted George Brett:
Well, George Brett was one of the
greatest baseball players of all time. And in his career for the Kansas City Royals, he was asked, when he was nearing
the end of his career, how he wanted his last play in the major leagues to go.
Well, everyone assumed that he would say that he wanted to hit a grand slam in
the bottom of the ninth to win a game, perhaps even a World Series. He
surprised all of the sportswriters, because what he said was, "I want my
last play at bat to be that I hit an easy, just one bounce to the second
baseman, and they throw me out at first. But I was running as hard as I could
toward the bag when they got me."And he said, "Because I want it
to be said of George Brett that, no matter what, he played his best game, he
gave it his best, all the way to the very end." And he certainly did just
that.
I have to admit, that is a great story. Governor Huckabee’s use of it says great
things about George Brett—who everyone knows was a legendary ballplayer. The quote certainly was the shining star of Huckabee’s
political career so far. And like my
educated, level-headed contemporaries, I hope it is the last. But let us not be completely blinded by the
simple-mindedness of the far right. Let
us let them have this great baseball quoting moment, for it is a very rare
occasion when the Christian conservative movement resembles anything like
humanity…humans…from Earth.
George Brett was a paragon of the baseball working class. He didn’t have the raw talent of an Alex
Rodriguez, the natural snap on a fastball like Nolan Ryan, the pure power of a
Babe Ruth. He didn’t have the luxury of
being pampered in Boston, New York, L.A. He didn’t end up on the front page of the New
York Post every morning flashing Versace shades and a $500K Rolex. No. He ran out every
groundball, chased down every pop-fly foul-ball and knocked the catcher on his
tail at home plate.
He was heroic. Mythic. He was an all-too-often overlooked champion of what baseball was meant to be.
Governor Huckabee, it sure sounded cool and I give you mad props
for that, but dude, comparing yourself to George Brett is a huge stretch.
In
other news, John McCain gave his victory speech in front of a banner with
“1191” written on it. For those of you who didn’t understand what the number
meant to suggest, “1191” is the year that Senator McCain was born.
And a final note: is there anything cooler than John King’s ginormous
touch-screen computer on CNN’s Election Center? I wonder how much one of
those thingys costs…
Of course, please don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right…
Peace,
Jeffy
Red State Blue State
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