As I sit here basking in the glory of the Fightin's first fucking game/victory of the Spring Exhibiton against the FSU Semens, I thunk it no more a better time to start part 1 of my 5-installment piece comparing each pitcher of the 2011 rotation to one of the first 5 Metallica records. Yeah, I know they only got better after that but I just have no frame of reference since I wasn't dying my beard pink and moshing alone in mall parking lots after high school.
We of course fucking start out with Roy Fucking Halladay. This one was a toughey because I could've gone a few ways with this. After serious thought and arduous delineation (5 minutes at work, daydreaming) I decided that the 'Tallica jammer that most suited our top cat's everything was that 1986 masterpiece, Master Of Fucking Puppets. It's seriously, in my humble opinion, the true stand-out of the Holy First Five. It's heavy, accomplished, epic, beautiful and perfect. If you can't see the parallels you're a fucking dickhead. After all, Roy is the Master.
Like a Halladay start, Master's first cut, Battery, opens gracefully yet forebodingly with a ominous acoustic guitar intro. If you play this song in real time to the first inning by the time the gentleness of the intro ends and the fucking pure mayhem and bashing begins you usually are watching a hapless lead-off hitter getting his balls kicked in by some serious fucking heat, walking away dejected and scorned by a Halladay fist-fuck. Brutality. BATTERY!
No, things don't get much easier as the second and third innings go by as Roy continues to fucking waylay the competition to the title track of this fine album. An epic tale of substance abuse and despair barrels along like a fucking freak train to Hades (that ride must suck balls. Ask that useless dicksmoke, Pat Burrell), Master Of Puppets almost defines musically the Halladay game. It's melodic and veracious, taking no motherfucking prisoners. There's even apart in the middle of the tune where it slows down for a second only to lull you into a false sense of security as you are tossed back to the wolves of the heavy breakdown. James Hetfield pleads "MASTER, MASTER!! WHERE'RE THE DREAMS THAT I'VE BEEN AFTER??!! I assure you right fucking now this sentence goes through Jose Reyes' head as his hopes and dream are shattered for the 4th time of the night. Kick ass.
The 3rd track, The Thing That Should Not Be, was definitely written about the run that sometimes happens in the middle of the game when Halladay starts drifting off and thinking about his fantasy team.
Sanitarium closes out side A and pretty much sums up the feeling any opposing manager as he watches his boys get mowed down by Halladay's Viet-Cong esque gunfire. "Who am I?" or "Life is shit, why am I here?" and totally "Roy's beard is fucking perfect..." The toll this kind of battle takes on a General is heavy. The beatings are severe and can make a motherfucker go insane. Insane snakes and shit, evil metal looking horses carry your fucking brain away. You are fucked and the record is only half-way done. Can you imagine how Dusty Baker feels?
I'm not really gonna keep fucking going making stupid analogies to each track, that would take all night. I don't have that time and Roy knows it. He fucking works quick and so did Metallica. Just like a Halladay start comes and goes in a whirlwind of fucking terror and bliss, so does Puppets. BAM, BAM, BAM!!!... then its fucking done and your pants are down and your mouth is dry and your balls are stuffed in your butt. It's intense.
I leave you now with footage of what the 9th inning of a Halladay game sounds like in my head; the finale' of the album, Damage Fucking Inc. Check out the date on this clip. Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuude... let's get wasted!!! It's also from their tour with Ozzy Oswalt.
Up next in a few fucking days, Followers, I'm gonna do the Cliff Fucking Lee comparison. Can you guess which record he's gonna be? I'll give you a hint, it's not fucking Stanger. Yeah, that's how I say it so that's how I'll fucking spell it. I know you all thought this might be the Lee record with the whole "Cliff 'Em All" thing going on but you were wrong. It makes sense, you'll see.
Fuck new york and see your mother put to death. See your mother die.