You write an article called "8 Reasons Baseball is Lame and Boring". Which is basically a complete ripoff of this article, except without the creativity and skill and humor. So, basically, just a poorly written unoriginal boring ripoff.
I would spend the time tearing the "article" apart, but why do that when the Fire Joe Morgan guys have already done so (and with much more panache than I could anyway). To wit:
Marry me, Mose Schrute. Er, Ken Tremendous.On-base percentages, opponent on-base plus slugging percentages, sabermetrics ... Alan Greenspan might enjoy crunching the numbers, but for those of us who'd rather leave our brains at work, the cold-beverage-intake-to-bladder-outflow ratio makes a whole lot more sense.Bra. Seriously, bra. Fuck these nerds. For serious. True story, bra -- I'm at the game yesterday. I'm wasted. Seriously, bra, I've had like eleven brews. I'm there with my boy Donnie -- awesome guy. Solid guy. The papers call him the "Laundry Room Rapist." So Donnie's like, "Bra, you want another one?" And I'm like, "Shitchyea, dude! I ain't driving!" And Donnie's all, "Bra, you are driving, remember?" And I was like, "Ohhhh shit!" And we high-five, right?
So basically everything was awesome. We were crushing it, bra. And then, this little fucking nerd in front of us is like, "Can you be careful? You're spilling beer on my daughter's head," and I'm like, "Whatever dude -- it's a ballgame. Shut up and enjoy the ride!" and he's like, "Just try to be more considerate," and then his little nerd son is like, "Daddy, look, Manny's up!" and his nerd dad is like, "Let's go Manny!" and his nerd son is like, "His batting average is down to .288" and that's when I just lost it, bra. Those fucking nerds and their numbers. So I pull my rod out -- you know, because I have to piss, right? -- and the guy is all, "Hey! You can't do that here!" and I'm like, "Sorry, nerdbra, the only statistic I care about is how many brewskis I've had and how much piss I've pissed" and the next thing you know security is dragging me out and they're all like, "You're banned for life" and I'm like, "Bra, what the hell?" and they're like "You pulled your penis out and urinated at your seat and there's vomit on your forearm, and also you can't smoke in the stadium, and your friend is wearing a shirt and shoes but no pants," and I'm like "He's Donald Ducking it, bra -- it's classic!" and they're like, "Get out of here and never come back."
And that's when I realized: nerds have ruined baseball.
on May 25, 2008 11:57 PM
This is my favorite part of the whole thing, though the shot at Dusty Baker was awesome too:
Baseball is a year-round sport and anyone who tells you otherwise is lying. Between charity events, trades, management shake-ups, and stadium upgrades, teams and the media make it painfully clear: You will think about baseball 360 days a year—OR ELSE!
First of all, did you intend to give us 5 days off, or are you maybe thinking of a circle? Second of all: for a guy who prefers the NFL to MLB, this is straight-up bonkers. The NFL is the sport with year-round coverage, and their regular season is only four months long. The draft, the minicamps, the free agent signings, the pre-season...the NFL gets 24/7/365 coverage by the media. (And it should, by the way, because people are interested in it.) The baseball season starts on April 1 or so, goes to October 1 or so, then another month for the post-season. Then nobody cares about it until like March, because the NFL is in full swing. (Some people like the Hot Stove season -- myself included -- but the whole world stops when the NFL releases its new schedule.)