The Revenge Of The Sith

I woke up this morning to the terrible news that I am no longer a baseball fan.

In a move that revered scientists couldn't even explain to me, the Tampa Bay Rays have traded Evan Longoria to the San Francisco Giants, effectively rendering anything they ever do again be pointless and terrible.  This is by far the stupidest move the Rays have ever done.

As a small market team, the biggest problem is trying to keep home grown talent and trying to not be a minor league team for a big market team.  Just ask the Miami Marlins how they feel about the New York Yankees right about now.  They just "traded" away their franchise player in Giancarlo Stanton to the Bronx for the equivalent of a ham sandwich, with now I whom sympathize with. (Marlins' fans, not the ham sandwich)

Does it really matter who you get in the trade?  The Marlins traded away their Barry Bonds.  The Rays traded away their Derek Jeter.  Could you imagine the New York Yankees trading away Derek Jeter?  No, you couldn't because you know it would never fucking happen!  Just as you knew that Jeter was the heart and soul of the Yankees, Longoria was the heart and soul of the Rays.  We just traded away the first thing that ever gave us any hope, that ever gave us any success, and that ever acted like the Rays could compete with the rest of the assholes.  Price was the shot to the gut, Maddon was the death sentence, and Longoria is the dirt on the casket.  It's over kids, we just traded our own son to somebody else.

You don't trade Longoria.  I can't believe that should have been a sign we had made up and put in the GM's office.  How do you not know that?  Why is there not somebody's job that all they do is stand around and as soon as someone says, "Well, why don't we trade Longoria?" and they quickly run over to that person and slap them as hard as they can directly in the face.  I would have paid that salary myself if I knew this day was coming.

I have no intentions of listening to any press conferences or statements from the team because it's all bullshit anyways.  You can not tell me that you were actively trying to make the team better by removing it's foundation.  You're trying to sell me a car without wheels and expecting me to jump in and take off.  It's not gonna work.  What the Hell is the point anymore?  If this wasn't the official stamp on the "We're Just A Breeding Ground For Four Other Cities" then I don't know what else to call it.  Hey kids, come play for the Rays and just maybe someday you'll actually be taken seriously and traded to San Fran, Boston, LA, or hell, maybe even New York!  I feel like I could angry vomit right now.

I just know that some San Franciscan is turning on ESPN right now and saying "Cool, that guy's a good pickup" and I'm over here updating my will but it's entirely accurate.  There's no angle to look at this and say it isn't devastating.  The people behind this deal are probably related to the architects of the Titanic and the Hindenburg.  I want to be able to say "Well, fuck you San Francisco" but it all reality it needs to be "Well, fuck you Tampa Bay!"  How could you not know?  How could you not know to not trade Longoria?

Oh dear God...they did know.  That means that they simply just didn't care.  They don't care what this means to me, and you, and everybody else like us.  Some men just like to watch the world burn.

Goodbye, Longo.  Goodbye, underdog.  Goodbye, baseball.

The Hammer To Fall

Well hello there, Alex Rodriguez and Ryan Braun, how nice to see you again!

And I only greet you so warmly because you are the first...and most expected.  I can't wait for the others.

Kids, take notice, this is what happens when you make your personal foundation out of balsa wood.  As much as I think (know) that Bud Selig is a figure-head and that Major League Baseball is more of a "Aw crap, we shouldn't have done that" instead of a "Hey, here's things we should look out for" type of business, I do have to give them the credit that in this dark time for the sport they WILL NOT subject new youth to the same poison that fell in love with them before the steroids era.

I truly believe that they have forsaken the reasons that they got into trouble to begin with and are now on the path to...eh, somewhat redemption.  Witch-hunt?  Of course.  Hammer is falling, need scape-goats?  Check.  But do I think MLB is on the right track?  Absolutely.

I was a kid when McGwire and Sosa were challenging each other for the season home run title and I was captivated.  Then I was a teenager when whispers came out about that maybe they weren't doing it just themselves.  Then I found myself pursuing a career in sports journalism.  Thanks to them?  No, not even.  This piece is not even meant to be nostalgic.  I went down the path of sports journalism because of my mother, so forward all emails to her.

I'm rambling, I'm not supposed to, but the point is that I watched the rise and the "rise" and the fall.  And the supposed "rise" from that fall.  But we've been falling for a long time, they've just been waiting to finally nail the last dirt bags.  Well, kids, I think we got 'em.

Tony Bosch, the ring-leader behind the whole Miami-based PED (really? you don't know what this means? fine...it's performance enhancing drug, you big weirdo) is going to comply with federal investigators and implicate long time expected PED (see above) users and finally give them their just desserts.

Careful, let's not get ahead of ourselves just like, for example, ESPN.  Calm down, ESPN, you are drooling.  Relax a bit.

Tony Bosch is the equivalent to that guy on the Sopranos that denies and denies and is finally pinched by the feds and all of a sudden has all this information.  Not exactly a reliable source, probably just some guy looking out for his own two bits.

Tony Bosch will end up being the legal nail in the coffin but haven't we already had enough?  Do we really still look at A-Rod's home runs and legitimately nod our heads?  When Ryan Braun's test came back "inconclusive" and he avoided suspension, did we assume he was innocent?  No.  Not even close.  Major League Baseball and steroids is a slippery slope.  It doesn't matter what has been proven, it matters if your name is on the list or not.

Where have I heard this before?

McCarthyism aside, here are some facts:

1. There are baseball players that have been accused of using PEDs that have denied it.
2. There are baseball players that haven't been accused of using PEDs that are using PEDs.
3. There are baseball players that have been accused of using PEDs that aren't using them.
4. There are baseball players that haven't been accused of using PEDs that aren't using them.

Let's put aside the fear tactics.  A-Rod, Braun, and whomever else they so choose to go after, are they dirty?  Probably.  Maybe.  I think so.

How dumb would you feel though?  I mean, not necessarily with A-Rod, because he's done everything in his power to show you he has terrible judgement...but Braun?  Braun has gone out of his way to prove his innocence.  He found loop holes in the PED test for crying out loud* (*author's discretion, not viable to being sued by Ryan Braun...or his lawyers...dammit...it doesn't matter, he'll find a loop hole).

A-Rod plays for the Yankees, he's clearly evil!  He's smacking you in the face with it like he is trying to smack a baseball out of the glove of Bronson Arroyo.  (Bronson Arroyo just smiled somewhere.)

Ryan Braun plays for the Brewers!  The damn Milwaukee Brewers!  What's his angle!?  "Maybe they won't see me up here. - Ryan Braun"

I don't get it.  What I do get is that for every sport and for every hero you have cheaters and loop holes and maybe we've nailed two of the biggest and maybe we haven't.  And I'm sad.  I mentioned it in an earlier post how little league world series kids announce A-Rod as their favorite baseball player and it makes me have to stifle my vomit while I'm watching ESPN2 and First Take isn't even on.

And maybe when we're young we just pick our heroes not knowing whether they stand for good or evil but because in our eyes that's the biggest person we can see.  And as we grow, so do our visions with them, and our dreams and all of a sudden we see like them.

And that's how cults get started.  A-Rod and Braun are dirty, kids, go out and play tee-ball.

The Major League Dictatorship

You're killing me.

But seriously, you're KILLING US.

I consider myself a strong voice but that's only because I'm narcissistic beyond the normal human realm.  In reality I am just a normal fan who happens to word things in a humorous and brilliant manner.  See?

Well folks, here's what happened, the Rays started their long road trip against the scum bag Texas Rangers tonight and once again we were robbed in the ninth.  The perpetrator this time however was not the Rangers players themselves but the umpiring staff acting on the behalf of the Texas Rangers.

First of all, I hate to play the 'what if' game but this is freaking baseball, the number one sport where 'what if' applies all of the time.  Anything can happen at any time that's why they play all nine innings.  Rallies, mojo, momentum, karma, will power, whatever you want to call it...I buy in.  I subscribe to the magazine that writes about baseball players feeding off energy.  Hell,  I'm watching on television and I'm feeding off of it.

Second of all, human error is a part of sports.  Yes, it is, and I have defended this practice since I was a wee lad.  Now that I am a slightly bigger lad I hold the same principle but now it's more like, "Human error is a part of sports, sure, but now we have technology to be like, no, you're really wrong on that call."  And because I know that technology exists, and that Major League Baseball has decided to use it for only certain things and not everything makes me want to stick my own head up my ass because then I would truly fit in.

It gets worse, however, because it's not everyday we have a confession.  The umpire who apparently mistook the strike zone for his wife's ass (zing) took a second look, and by gosh oh golly oh gee, he wouldn't have called it a strike a second time.

Thanks.  We all feel better now.

So, you admit you were wrong, and your initial call changed the outcome, but yet we can't do anything about this except shrug our shoulders?

Man, if only there was some overruling figure in baseball that would set little arguments like this to rest by just simply making a decision of his own for once in his life and allowing FULL REPLAY in baseball.  But these are just dreams that are drifting away on the fart of a manatee.  It falls on daft and deaf ears.  He actually covers all the bases.

Bud Selig is too close to being Bud Selig for these last gratifying years that he simply can't make a move on replay in baseball right now.  How could a commissioner who lead us through the Steroids Era ever make such a drastic move?  This man had an All-Star game end in a tie.  I would have rather he personally drove to my house and slapped me in my face and told me what a sucker I was for watching with such eager eyes and that I should be more cynical about things.

Forget about Selig.  He's not important.  The umpires made a mistake tonight, in game seven, and I'm just thankful that it wasn't Game Seven.  I couldn't even imagine...but then again...maybe that's what it takes.

Goodnight, kids, Daddy is upset.

It's October. Sorry.

Happy October, kids.  And all that means is that a lot of us are about to have a bad time in Major League Baseball.

For those of you that would rather watch paint dry I implore you to read something else.  For the love of anything that you consider holy, educate yourselves.

I want to vomit.  The atmosphere in the Twilight Zone this time of year gets really thick and it presses down on my stomach and kidneys to where I gag and piss out blood.  It's not very glamourous but then again--not much is in the Twilight Zone.

October signals the end of just about all baseball that anybody cares about, the relevance of your favorite football team, and the start of all things basketball.

For those of you that like good things, this is a really positive month.

For people like me, I'll be in a scotch coma.

You think for someone who surrounds himself in a sportsverse that I would take steps to ensure I have something to talk about all year long.  Well, turns out, masochism is a hell of drug.

The only thing college basketball will be good for me this year is a easy way to blow twenty bucks on a three-team parlay.  I only do twenty bucks because I'll probably do it about fifteen times this year.  I never learn my lesson.

Hell, the highlight of my October will be Halloween when I pass out candy to the local dregs and their offspring.  Don't confuse me with someone who gives a crap about children, I really don't.  I just know the rest of society could give less of a crap if some kids got some candy one day out of the year.  Plus, I give out the good stuff.  I refuse to be caught up in the brainwashed masses that are convinced that candy corn is even remotely edible.  It sucks and needs to be destroyed.

Speaking of gambling, how badly do the Dolphins try and screw you?  They never win but they always cover the spread by losing by a field goal in overtime.  What an awful thing to do.  They wrench your heart and your wallet.

Scumbags.

Vegas is so prevalent in sports these days that it almost pays more to not be a fan.

Correction: It definitely pays more.  You make money and don't suffer the heartbreak.  If only I could stop getting hopped up on this masochism.