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Archive for "Oct 11 2005"

’bout those “Elitism” Charges that are Floating Around?

here’s one: A 25 year old newly-gradded potzer with a privileged pedigree who couldn’t walk down my block after dark and could never, ever win an argument about nuts and bolts red state issues without a chapbook or talking points since he’s born of the silver spoon…so much that his wedding was in the NY fucking Times. Tasked to bird-dog the media; judge to a world where he could never score an interview in a gun-rich (as opposed to dollar) environment without giving up his wallet, but then, it’s all about the Beltway, isn’t it? You fuckers are, at the last, just talking to your godforsaken selves.

Whatever. I give you, Joe Readers: Stephen “Fucking”Spruiell.
(see kid? Now you’re just like Bucky Dent! Absolute shit in Boston.)

You dolts really believe this kind of thing doesn’t brand you a pack of elitist shits who need to be dismissed? You couldn’t find one working reporter to man this battlement?

Amazing. So overeducated…so damn clueless..it’s NRO.

Freddy Ferrer is SO Gonna Lose

(Jeez, does this asshole deperately need a clue.)

Today’s culprit is Dr. Moonbat, in Manhattan, tinfoil cap screwed on tight:

“I speak for the Democratic Party,” asserted Dean, the Democratic National Committee chairman, “and there’s been some press about Democrats who are not supporting Freddy [Ferrer]. Maybe there are three or four, but I speak for the Democratic Party.”

Right…three or foursure, skippy. Keep flapping your gums…. Better yet, give us another howl.

(Why should I let the NY Post have all the fun?)

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A-Hole=Winfield

Moose struggled, Matsui was a horror show with men on base, Bubba and Sheff did something I didn’t see any Yankee outfielders do all year, and don’t even get me started about that “Cano in/out the baseline box” bullshit…I’m hanging it on number 13’s ass.

He’ll probably be named AL MVP, and if that happens, it’ll be like pouring gasoline on my raging fire inside. The error and dumb-as-a-rock baserunning misadventure in Game Two, combined with his non-existence at the plate for the entire series, condemns him to a particular level of TC’s Yankee Hell…where he’ll find the last “superstar” who turned out to be a useless son of a bitch already in residence.

“I played great baseball all year
and I played like a dog the last five days.”

It’s simple, A-Hole, how it works here: regular season numbers don’t mean shit once the playoffs are under way. Like Winfield before you, who fell into a black hole in the 1981 ALCS and World Series, earning the derisive “Mr. May” monicker sneered by Darth Boss George, it’s what you do in October that counts. It’s now been two Octobers in which you did jack shit.

You long to be “The Man,” but as long as Derek Jeter’s breathing, this team is his. He took the team and tried hoisting it on his shoulders last night, tried to lead it to the finish line by belting that home run in the seventh and leading off the ninth with a single that you wiped out with a quick 5-4-3 DP. Even if you would have just let a goddamn pitch hit you during that last at-bat you would have made a contribution. It would have been two on, no outs. Rhoidbo…(oh fuck it)….Jason Giambi follows with a rope. Tie game.

American League MVP? Fuck you, A-Hole.You ain’t even your own team’s MVP. You’ll have to pray to whoever other than your reflection in a mirror that there’s an October next season to even begin to claw your way out of that level of Yankee Hell you share with Mr. May.

(cross posted at the Darkside, where I imagine the wake is under way.)

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