Monday, July 19, 2010

July 18 2010 PHI v CHC Game 4. Silence Of The Fans


Yesterday I was driving home from the gym and saw the mangled carcass of a kangaroo laying on the side of the road. This isn't a strikingly uncommon sight to see along Australian roadsides, it's just the manner and the positioning of the corpse that caught my attention. 

I pulled off onto the side of the parkway and crossed heavy rush hour traffic to get a better glimpse of the fallen beast. 


At first I couldn't fathom which method by which the animal had been slain. Certainly no automobile could just tear the top half of a kangaroo straight off the bones while leaving the skeletal dignity intact. It's clear the the top of the animal had been torn from the bones themselves in a meticulous fashion. Some sick fuck must've had his way and left it on the side of the road.

Boy, did this fucking thing stink. The remainder of it's rotting flesh under the Canberran sun for god knows how long attached to the framework of what was a friendly grazing little hopper. I had to stand up wind to get this second perspective of our fallen little buddy.


I was close to vomiting after taking a look from this angle. The stench carried like pop fly off the bat of Geovany Soto in Chicago's warm summer air. That was the first image conjured up. I could see that the internal organs had been removed, as well. From the next photo you can see quite clearly.


Randy Newman songs started playing in my head. The sad piano and black southern-esque drawl ran through my mind as did visions of Alfonso Soriano hitting a towering home run off of Phillies ace Roy Halladay. Toddlers were crying on playground swings because their parents were being murdered in front of them. Men were fucking other women while their wives were home sick with cancer.

Then Jayson Werth popped in my mind. This could be symbolic, I thought to myself. This here is the carcass of the Philadelphia Chapter for Jayson,  the once charismatic and powerful slugger with an air of arrogance that was charming and forgivable due to the mass amounts of home runs and clutch hits he had accrued. Now without that productivity those traits have become tiresome as his attitude increasingly sours with every passing second of his contract year. I own a Jayson Werth jersey. My son has a Jayson Werth onesie. This could be the carcass of the hope Jayson's season will turn around. This could be the carcass of Jayson's batting average.


This is how I would write The Clog everyday if I were a psychopath.

The Phillies lost 6-11 to a cubs team who's best pitching offering was a fill-in for the tempestuous Carlos Zambrano during his suspension for being a whiny faggot. Roy Halladay got the shit beaten out of all his pitches and our bullpen looked like the aftermath of an Exlax overdose. Ryan Howard continues to be a fucking amazing spectacle and Ben Francisco keeps climbing higher on the list of players that should get more starts. That fucker looks sharper and sharper every time he trots onto the grass. He could easily replace Ibanez as a starter if giving the opportunity and with Jayson Werth bounced for a decent starting pitcher like Dan Harren we could bring up Dominic Brown. Easy solution that many have come to besides myself. A solid outfield and some new blood in the line-up. Too many men over 30 playing on this team. Besides, we better get something for Werth while his value is somewhat intact. It's now or never cause you know he ain't gonna be in our dugout come spring training.

I also convinced my wife that a vacation in Clearwater, FL would be a good idea this coming spring. This was a major coup in our marriage. Actually it was me cashing in some well earned travel chips. This past autumn I had to discomfort of accompanying her to the wedding of a friend that was marrying a human tampon. It wouldn't be such a big deal if the wedding had been in Duluth or Provo. I hate weddings but at least you can drink and eat for free. The shit of it was that this fucking thing was in Melbourne. We were living in Philadelphia at the time which meant a 22 hour flight to watch her friend join in loving union with a man that has a vagina for a mouth and penis. I figure she's getting off fucking easy with this arrangement. All she has to put up with is 7 days of baseball with no fear of small talk with enemies .


St Louis tonight, Kendrick on the mound. This could be a bumpy ride....fuck new york and, Followers, if you do a few dopey things with your wife you may get spring training out of it!

JSIII

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