What, me worry?
What a discouraging game. I mean really, really discouraging. I am, in fact, having an extremely negative moment right now. And in the midst of all the anger and the agony I am forced to hear - over and over and over again -
Take a chance, make it happen,
Pop the cork, finger-snappin,
Spin the wheel
Round and round we gooooooooo!
Life is good, life is sweet,
Grab yourself a front row seat,
Let's meet and have a ball!
YAAAAAAAAAAAH Let's live...for the wondeeerrrrrrrrrr-of it all!
Meet me at Foxwoods! (Foxwoods!)
Who is the scrawny little piece of shit who lipsynchs that fucking tune? I mean, how old is that guy? When you see him at a three quarters view he looks like fucking Skeletor. I'd like to find that guy and work him over with a serrated aluminum baseball bat. The last thing I want to hear when the Sox are losing in yet another heart-wrenching, open-your-belly-and-strew-your-guts-around-like-christmas-tree-garland way is this little simp's impossibly upbeat garbage when what I'd really like is to have a 14 hour standoff with the Boston police department on top of the roof of Fenway armed with a harpoon gun while wearing a yellow raincoat and an Alfred E. Neuman mask.
I blame Terry Francona. I want his job. I want to be Terry Francona just for one week - one lousy fucking week. Someone give me a clipboard, break my nose, bust up my knees, shave my head, give me the worst case of hypertension and heart disease this side of a third world country and let me get down there in the dugout. I'd make Lou Pinella look like a suicide hotline counselor. If this lousy team can't win a goddamn game then at least they can be as miserable as I am.
All except Mark Bellhorn. He is exempt from all punishment. Bellhorn will be the "Snowball" to my "Napoleon."
But am I going to watch tomorrow? Of course I am! Wouldn't miss it for the world.
Monday, August 09, 2004
What, me worry?