Tuesday, August 24, 2010
August 23 2010 PHI v HOU Game 1. Raging Shark
I don't even know how to approach today's fucking Clog, Followers. I honestly am still fucking filled with rage over yesterday's game that it almost consumes me. All day I've had to cool down but still I sit here, contemplating arson and wondering how fucking hard I could punch Jayson Werth in the face. It's been almost 10 hours since the game ended.... I may need to step back from this whole baseball thing for 5 minutes. I'm turning into an actual psychopath. Walking down the street stifling screams of agony, punching at the air in fury. I can't stop now.
Today I had to take my wife's car in for a tune-up so I was left to my own devices from 9am-12pm, precisely the time the Phillies are on for night games.
After dropping the wheels off at the garage, I walked into downtown Canberra to look for an internet kiosk. Like an Asian. I don't have an iPhone yet because I am an idoit so I was at the behest of pay-internet in a public place. Sheeeesh.
On my journey to the center of the earth, I walked passed a LAN gaming center/internet cafe and decided that this was going to be my hang for the next few hours.
I walked down the dark stairwell and just as I approached the front counter to pay money fro internet the powerful stench of chronic masturbator hit me on the face like a fucking rig. You know, the smell your room gets after you jerk-off into a sock for a weekend straight when your 15. Only this fucking place was filled with pimply empty-utted creting, a barren wasteland of World Of Warcraft virginity and Kit-Kat wrappers. Disgusting.
I sat down, knocked a few red bull cans out of the way of the keyboard, and dialed up mlb.tv.
By the time I got on it was the bottom of the 2nd already and what do you know, Joe Blanotn gave up a lead off double and a run in the first inning. Not too bad but fucking typical.
Brett Myers is still a fucking walking spittoon, a goatee like a Slipknot fan and a jaw like West Virginia. I almost missed him for a second but then remembered that he plays for the astros now and is a wife beater.
Brett Myers wasn't fucking around, he struck out 9 in 7 innings of work, He looked sharp as ever. What a fucking douche bag.
Joe Blanton by the same was no cheap date, either. He fanned 9, as well, a season fucking high for Sloppy Joe. He gave up 1 run, went 7 and looked the part for the second start in a row. Maybe shit's finally falling into place for Joe-Joe. Now if we can only convince his brain the 1=2 then those first innings might not be such a mental hump for him. Still, any improvement is lauded here at TBSS.
So after 6 1/2 innings the Phils have a 2-1 lead thanks to a Choochie homer in the 3rd and a J-Roll RBI in the 4th. It's bottom of the 6th and there's 2 outs, Jayson Werth at second.
Choochie steps to the plate and in his fashion, he draws a walk. he's a smart player and knows that Valdez could probably plate Werth if he got on.
As Choochie starts his trot down the 1st baseline, 'stros catcher Something Quintero fires the ball to second.
What the fuck? Why....Oh yeah, JAYSON FUCKING WERTH WAS FUCKING LOOKING AT A SEAGULL OR SINGING A NICKELBACK SONG TO HIMSELF WHILE DAWDLING LIKE A TURD 5 FEET FROM SECOND BASE WITH HIS FINGERS UP HIS ASS NOT PAYING THE FUCK ATTENTION!!!!!
He gets picked off. My body fills with anger. I could almost feel these wizard nerds around me feel my hatred. What a dickhead. Werth is always fucking around on the base paths. He is consistently a poor base runner and now you just fucked us out of a threat. Of course Chollie keeps him in the game. Fuck, he shoulda been cleaning Moyer's cup with his tongue for the rest of the game. No hustle, no love.
Skip 2 innings later to the top of the 8th. Mad Dog is in for Blanton and he's just given up a hit to some fucking dickass on the astros. Up comes Michael Bourne, a fast running motherfucker.
Bourne lays down a bunt to move over whateverhisnameis on first and gets it down the first baseline. Howard comes rushing down to play the ball. he grabs it and dives at Bourne to make the tag.
Bourne, to avoid the tag dives, hmmmmm. maybe 5 feet out of the basepath. and is called FUCKING SAFE!!!! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME YOU FUCKING WORTHLESS CUNT!!!! HE WAS 5 FEET OUT SIDE OF THE BASEPATH, LOOK AT THE FUCKING DIVOT HE LEFT IN THE FUCKING GRASS!!!!! PHYSICAL FUCKING EVIDENCE, YOU BLIND TWAT!!!!!
Chollie gets booted, some other fucker lays ANOTHER bunt down and Carlos Lee gets a fucking hit to drive in dickinmothwhoeverpplayer and Bourne, a runner that shouldn't have been on the fucking bases, to take the lead 2-3.
At this point my brain is about to fucking liquefy. My rage is forcing the fucking camouflage paint to peel off the walls of this fucking den of cum and I can do nothing but fume!!! How the fuck could that stupid cunt of an ump Greg Gibson call that fucking play in good conscience. I hope he's fucking still awake. What a true dickhead.
Of course we lose the game. Of course I still want to stab 60 cats in their faggoty little faces. Writing this just makes it worse. Of course the braves lost last night, too. Fucking comedy. Still 2.5 back and a game in the lead of the WC.
I spent the next 30 minutes walking around downtown cursing at everything. I truly wanted someone dead. Like I said, I need to maybe take a step back. I probably will never.
I spent the rest of the day downloading Megadeth albums.
In closing of my little story, Followers, I would like to say Fuck You to mlb.com for calling that a fucking rally for Houston, I would like to wish umpire Greg Gibson a large black dick in the mouth 45-60 times over the next few days and hope Jayson Werth get's turned away at the door of Hooters. If I was managing this fucking team he's be fucking Bat-Boy for the next 3 games with a jersey that reads "NANCY HUSTLE" and Hamels would be throwing at the heads of the 1-4 hitters tonight. Now I am going to try to do yoga and then watch Ellen. She makes me laugh and I LOVE her dancing! Fuck new york and fuck everything.