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Ortiz Or What?

May 20, 2009 Leave a comment

Pay attention. You are about to witness how the Boston baseball franchise and their fanbase treat one of their heroes. Make that former hero. David Ortiz, hired gun—that’s right, he is not a product of the Boston system, has lost his one skill, hitting a baseball. No more worshipping him with the drooling femmo nickname, one typically used by Latinas for their lovers. No mas hombre, what have you done for me lately? That’s the modus operandi for Beano-town. Just ask Fred Lynn, Wade Boggs, Roger Clemens and crazy old Bill Lee. Oh and what’s his name? that guy in LA!

Yeah, they love you big time, as long as you can beat the Yankees. Not so much when you go 0 for April. And May. You can fool some Red Sox fans some of the time, but they have a sixth sense for weakness, as do most rats. Mr. Ortiz, who may or may not be chemically altered, or be slightly older than his “baseball” age—listed as 33 going on hmmmmm 38, is currently experiencing a drop off in hit production. The fans have noticed and they are ready for a new hero. Oh, golly gee, they’d never go outside the organization! Hey! Michael Vick is available. Don’t think too hard about it. Kind of a made for each other thing.

It’s a great opportunity to watch these hypocrites go into action. Somehow they’ll manage to throw up a smoke screen of misdirection. Manufacture some more anti-Yankee gear. That seems to be their go to move. The Yankees admittedly had a chance to sign Ortiz the last time a team figured he was done (Minnesota Twins); they lived to regret it. If Ortiz could play 162 games exclusively v. the NYY, he and Neanderthal poster-boy Jason Varidreck would be lock Hall of Famers. Alas, they cannot.

As Boston sits the kids down to tell them it’s time to divorce Big Papi, the rest of us can take notes on how to dump a guy when he’s down. It’s what they do there along Yuckey Way, while pretending like some 8 year old kid— it wasn’t me throwed that spitball Miz Crabtree—it was that damnyankee A Rot…

Addendumb: Mr. Ortiz homered last night, his first after 149 at bats. Apparently he was both excited & confused. He had been informed New York was coming to town. Sorry, David, it’s the New York Mets. BTW I adore Ortiz & Varidreck—I hope they have their best seasons ever. Seriously. I mean it. No, really.

Bust A Cap

March 3, 2009 Leave a comment

Both the Major League Baseball teams from NYC are catching heat. Steroids? no. The stadiums? no, not this week. It’s patches. Patches? yes.

Let’s get the Mets out of the way first. The myopic and short-sighted, jockocracy, in their 12 year old boy way of using broad strokes, has roundly ridiculed the Mets new ballpark patch. They claim it looks ” just like ” the Domino’s Pizza box logo. Um, sure it is a 4 sided geometric shape, canted at about a 60º angle. But a moron can see the Met patch is the shape of a baseball game ticket, and elegantly simple in both color scheme ( not the Domino colors, for sure ) and graphics. Likely this eludes what passes for ” observant ” by jock sniffers. Maybe they were hoping for a patch in the shape of the new stadium? No, because, the Yankees did do something like that—a patch which appears on the back of their 2009 cap.

A cap, which other than the new Yankee Stadium commemorative, looks like every @#%&*! NYY cap since about 1929. Except for the one thing, the critics are too scared to complain about. ( BTW the Yankee patch also looks just fine. It is in the shape of the famous Yankee RF frieze. Ooooooh, but it’s on the back. Give me a fucking break. ) That thing would be what the official cap shape has devolved into over the last few seasons. The NewEra company manufactures most of MLB’s wear, the game cap style is the model 5950. It has adopted the hip-hop thug look. The one which most resembles a tin pot, once styled by Johnny Appleseed. A certain kind of player enjoys an oversized look & uncurved brim on their dome. Hey, they’re the pros. Lame look, though.

Why aholes with the common sense of a slow 2 year old, can literally reshape what was developed to be functional headwear for athletes who once played in the sun for 3 hours, is foolish. Most of them also wear jewelry and necklaces while playing now. It’s astonishing their accessorizing, would’ve not only gotten baseball players from my era extra wind sprints, after practice, but asskicked by the football players. And the chess club.

Look, if a segment of the population thinks they are sticking it to the man by wearing ballcaps sideways, fine. Their fashion sense, born of too large hand me downs from their big brothers ( except for Tyler Perry—he got his from his sister ), embracing their tight clothing budgets. But what are baseball players, who all make at least 350K USD ( upwards to 25+ million ) rebelling against? possibly bad patches! Manny Ramirez who is still unsigned as of this post, might actually be wearing his pajamas everyday this season, instead of on the field. You used to see baseball socks, now these jags have pants tailored to drape over the back heel of their cleats. It really looks stupid. Also, I guess it’s for guys like Manny who rarely actually do more than stroll. Maybe I was wrong about the mispronunciation of the word athlete. These guys are ath-uh-leets; a hole ( sic ) new breed.

AS for Manny, he’s still not feeling the love of a decent contract offer. He started out by stating just after the 2008 season ended— ” gas is up, and so am I. . ..” Did anyone point out to him, the price of gasoline had dropped? A lot. Or that there was a major economic recession? I’m not worried about Manny’s wallet, his agent is Scott Boras. Everybody in baseball hates him. Yet he still gets most of his players amazing contracts. Boras is concerned about deflation dollars in 2010. Manny has always wanted to skip Spring Training. Stay tuned LA. [ Manny has now signed for 2K9 Dodger $]

The sports commentators need to learn to target the real problems like Bud Selig not Alex Rodriguez. Or the ruination of on field utilitarian clothing for fashion statements ( and illiterate ones at that )! No, they are too chicken shit to bite the hand that feeds them. They may laugh up their sleeves at patches which look like fast food logos to their ill-trained eyes. But slap some free pizzas down and they’ll be there faster than you can say it.

It. . ..

Boston Bean Boston

February 12, 2009 Leave a comment

The Cincinnati Reds of the National League, were one of the first organized baseball teams, established in 1882. Historically, they are often considered the first professional team, the original team nickname being the Red Stockings. Stocking in the 19th Century was a word synonymous with the word socks, which is a diminutive of stockings.

The Boston Red Sox came along in 1912. I guess since they were in a different century, league (American), city & state, nobody would notice they couldn’t think of their own name. Why am I not surprised? Before any one leaves a comment, I suggest you could look it up. All of it. Sadly, facts never stopped anyone from B-Mass. I’d have gone with Boston Brahmans myself. If only I’d taken that scholarship to B.U. I’d have only just started hating Manny Ramirez!

Here’s one chowdah heads will truly love. Boston technically does not have an NFL franchise, though they claim the Patriots. When they win. But the city once did have its own pro football team. From 1944 to 1948, get ready for it beanbags: the Boston Yanks! Stole another name and shortened it, again. Golly, Yanks is short for Yankee. Anyone who has ever read more than a comic book, knows all over the world Americans are called Yankees. That must really grind Sawks fans who travel. ” I am nawt a Yankee, you friggin retahdahd bahstahd “

I’m not shocked at the lack of originality. Freud would have had a field day with the subconscious shortening. But since for decades they fell short, if the sock fits. . .. Now the Boston MLB club has bought their own World Series rings ( read that slowly for undeniable accuracy in reportage ), they are again coming up short in the grace department. I’m forced to admit, they are good at nouveau hubris.

I won’t be around to know if I’m right, but I’m betting in 10,001 CE, once they win their 26th WS, the baseball Bostons will adopt that old  Boston Yanks nick. Why not! No matter what they call themselves, they will never be New York. Though I might suggest they adopt the letters N & V. They can interlock and get them close. So close. But no cigar. AND as Dr. Freud once said-sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. They are just shorter in Boston.

There’s November like November – part ll

October 30, 2008 Leave a comment

” We love our god and our guns. . ..” this a direct quote from a political ad, approved by John McCain, running on a local radio station here in the New River Valley of Virginia. A political statement meant to exhort Virginians to vote against Barack Obama, because he apparently doesn’t love their god or their guns. Love means cleaning, oiling & fondling your grandaddy’s 30 aught 6.

They love guns here all right. They love to sell them too. That’s how a mental patient, who slipped through a loophole in the VA TECH student psych screening process, bought two guns here in Virginia. Then took them to school for Show & Kill. Who is their god? Glock? or the twin deities, Smith & Wesson?

Not too far from here, about 10 miles as the Jim Crow flies, there still stands the site of slave cabins. No doubt my own house is built above the unmarked graves of somebody who caught a free cruise to the land of the free. This area rarely has a sunny start to a day.* Often, it’s more a mist, I call it gray-light. Maybe it’s the angry gun god, all smoke and bitter ash for dirty deeds. Or possibly the arsenal also, just down the road apiece. . ..

I have said previously, the President of the United States is a spokes model. He/she(?) walks point for the daily patrol-an important job, yes. But the chief exec leads the team out front. There are those no longer so deep in the shadows, who run things. Those guys have no gods. This, because they think they are them. What they do best is send out people to do things for them, destabilize a Third World country or prop up a druglord in a slag heap ending with -stan. Then they trot the Pres out to meet the press for an atta boy and a tutorial in spin doctoring.

Doing that needs lots of guns and money. No doubt Mr. Obama would prefer to use what’s left of the American economy to keep us strong at home. Roofs over our heads and a chicken in every pot and/or microwave. But that kind of thing upsets the ‘ foreign policy ‘ of the power brokers who work behind the curtains of the Oval Office.

Hollywood has remade a classic flick, The Day the Earth Stood Still. The premise of which is, extraterrestrial is sent to Earth to terminate it. Mainly due to our warlike ways. Naturally this is greeted with loads of firepower, which makes the alien think it’s actually on Mars, named after the god of war. Right after the shameful name of the NFL franchise in our nation’s capitol is changed, I’m petitioning the new administration to switch from Earth to Mars. Or at least the Dirty 3rth. Hey, yo I’m street, dogg!

When a political party’s endgame endorsement has god & guns as the slam dunk argument for its candidate, you know it’s in trouble. If McCain really heard that ad and approved it, it’s troublesome. If a lackey rubber stamped it for him, it’s even more so. I knew we were backwards here, but this is straight out of the Johnny Reb Handbook. The South will rise again? well not before my dinner does.

So, while I continue to live in Bubbadoon,* where it’s always 1808 with football & cell phones—their god approves of some new fangled things! I get out my pork rinds & moonshine, ready to watch the election returns. Who will win—Hatfield or McCoy? er, um I mean Obama or McCain. Actually, I thought Obama was an Irish name- what? you never heard of the Black Irish!

* not to mention 24ºF on October 31—sunny south my @#%&*! ass

Chicks Dig the Lung Ball!

February 26, 2008 2 comments

If only we could go back to the Golden Age of Baseball, when the athletes were as pure as the media( jk.) Make that the Old Gold Age. Say what you will about Roger Clemens or Barry Bonds, you won’t see them lighting up in the dugout! Jim Leyland, manager of your Detroit Tigers, might, but hey, he’s grandfathered in and a winner.

Back before all those do-gooder hippies & activists showed up, professional athletes could only

( provided they were famous enough ) supplement their then low seasonal pay, via lucrative endorsement deals. Car, beer & cigarettes were the troika and no lesser stars than Hall of Famers Babe Ruth & Ted Williams, were once at the top of the endorsement heap. Many fondly recall the Reggie Bar, Reggie Jackson’s validation of his superstar stature in the 1970’s. Though as a candy, it’s more remembered as a missile, rather than a taste treat. Free agency has aided that fiscal shortfall for current ballplayers. No more off season jobs pumping gas, working in a coal mine or being a deputy sheriff. Unless you’re Shaquille O’Neal: the NBA legend doesn’t need the money, he just needs the law re-enforcement.

Smokeless tobacco, the addiction formerly known as chewing tobacco (wow! they can spin anything—how about coming up with Cancer-less tobacco?), is still used primarily by baseball players ( and select NASCAR drivers.) There has been a concerted effort in the last few years to educate especially young players regarding the risks of mouth cancer, for that little bit of metastasis between cheek & gum. I was fond of Jim Bouton’s ( former Yankees pitcher & author )Big League Chew myself, a pouch of shredded bubblegum. You could blow bubbles with your mouth, and not with that hole in your larynx like Uncle Joe Bob.

AND never a bit of controversy with guys like Richie, er, Dick Allen ( our poster boy below ) back then either. OK, maybe he’s a poor example. So, that’s where the Phils got the idea for candy apple pinstripes! Still Spring Training is here and baseball is back on the field & out of Congress ( for the moment ). Can anybody say ‘Play Ball!’ Where’s my effin’ brewsky dammit! I mean CrackerJack. . ..

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*The U.S. Surgeon General Dr. Hibbert has determined juggling while smoking, may be dangerous to your health.

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The above is for educational and entertainment purposes only. Photo and cover art copy are sole Copyrights of Time Warner Inc. None of the above commentary or opinions are endorsed by Time Warner Inc. No monies were accrued by the author for this work entitled Chicks Dig the Lung Ball ©2008 Jukeofurl Prod.

God Man Out

February 20, 2008 Leave a comment

God, John Lennon once wrote, is a concept. Then some fat mental patient shot him to death. Some people have a personal God. My personal God would’ve whacked Yoko. Before you jump on me, think about it: John would’ve really missed her. Lesson learned. Until a few years later and he got a load of Joan Chen or Ming Wa.

Richard Dawkins, not to be confused with Richard Dawson, a scientist at Oxford University, has a book. Titled: The God Delusion, in which he essentially states–ain’t no God. He also pretty much calls anyone who believes, a dumb ass. (Cough-Correct!) Then he repeats himself over & over ad nauseum. Kinda like God. . ..

My proof God existed, was getting an eyeful of an attractive woman. I’m not naming names. Anymore, any way. A few weeks ago I told a bunch of morons I thought Eva Green was hot. They told me she looked like a man. The nicest thing anyone said was—she looks very severe. Eva, if you read this, I still think you’re fine. Call me?

However, my proof there isn’t a God is, none of those hot chicks ever reciprocated my ardor. I tried compromising, but after a few lukewarm level babes dissed me, I turned devout atheist. Get serious, if you’re only gonna love me for my income, you’re a Satan worshipper. AND I don’t go for that one bit. Fork tongue, fork tail? Fork you!

Also mean nuns. Those [deleted] were married to God! Yikes. NO wonder God was vengeful with those harpies around the house. Though that original black & white look was tres chic. If you were Diane Arbus. This also explains the celibacy of priests and some of their unfortunate urges. Not all nuns were mean naturally. But sexual repression turned inward should never be allowed near children or to possess a ruler.

Country performers, athletes & certain races, like to thank God at awards shows. I admit, if I’d have had a hit record ( or 6 which is what I asked God to let me have–btw God thanks for the Brad Paisley box set, not what I had in mind but hey!) I’d have thanked God right after my parents & dogs. I don’t believe but I would’ve, based on good old fashioned Catholic guilt. Hee haw.

Because my reading retention skills have eroded since puberty, I can’t recall if I read this in the Dawkins book, but apparently that 72 virgins crap the Muslims sell suggestible social retardates, was mistranslated. It’s supposed to be 72 ‘raisins.’ Man, oh Manischewitz, I’d like to be there for that—what a treat! Admittedly, if you lived in the desert a thousand years ago & came across a bunch of grapes, you’d be in Heaven. But that sun would dry them out fast, so the leap to raisins is easy. Guaranteed there wouldn’t be a bit of old Allah left, after one of those psychos got handed a box of California raisins for blowing himself up & murdering some more of God’s Chosen People. Good times all around.

The best display of belief in God, is however, all those so called Christians who persecuted, tortured & killed in the name of God. And they have bad hair. The Spanish Inquisition is my favorite. That epistle was in one of the lost Gospels where Jesus said ‘Rack ’em up boys!’ Torquemada getting Lamb of God mixed up with rack of lamb. Not only is that type sociopathic, they are no fun at parties. Nor are they fun, as radio station owners, who along with tele-evangeli$ts, fleece millions for millions, for God. Makes you hope there at least is a hell. You know, that place where most of my former ‘flames’ will reside for all eternity, as per their fervent wish, granted by their master, the Prince of Darkness, without me! I’ll be in hebben with my raisins, though I’d prefer ambrosia.

Really, I think God was a 5th grader who got a C- on his science project & dumped it in the basement & forgot about it. Then went on to produce reality shows. I know truly wonderful things exist. I’d mention some, but it would just be my list. We all have a list of stuff that makes life bearable. But the repetitive cruelty & injustice, the stupidity of sports talk radio & the Red Sox winning two World Series in the last 4 years, proves it to me. God either doesn’t exist or is an idiot savant who now roots for Boston. Either is too sad to contemplate. In fact, God can just ki *

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* for those who wondered, this is not a glitch, it’s supposed to be the hand of G*d reaching down and stopping me before I’d type something like God can just kiss my as

The Santanic Verses*

January 15, 2008 2 comments

Johan Santana is still a Minnesota Twin. If he were a biological twin, it might help matters. Or just double the dubious pleasure and pain, surrounding the question of what team he’ll be pitching for in the 2008 MLB season. Not to mention all the words employed to discuss it ad nauseum. It should be pointed out Jose Canseco has a twin. So, as always the caveat: results may vary. . ..

Oh, which handsome suitor will attract the fair Minnesota GM Bill Smith ( is that his real name or is he hoping to maintain anonymity, if it goes bad?) and win his handshake on a blockbuster deal? Will it be the New York Yankees? Hmmm every other day they are like Al Pacino in Godfather lll—they try to get out. But they get pulled back in. The Yankees seem more like Silvio Dante’s ( The Sopranos ) impression of Al; funny and scary at the same time.

What about the Redolent Sox of Boston? I sure hope not. Though at this point, frankly Scarlet Ho-s, I don’t give a darn. The move would out those loads as the real once and future Evil Empire. It would also make it even sweeter to beat them down again; Mr. Santana’s stats at Fenway are improving, though historically, not all that awesome. Damn, I might’ve just messed with Karma. Oofah.

OR, now coming out of left field, landing on 3rd, the New York Mets. If any organization knows Yankee Envy, other than the Bostons, it’s the NYY crosstown cousins. BTW has anyone ever told the Mets ownership, that when they chose Dodger Blue & the orange to honor the late lamented NY Giants, for their team colors, neither of those teams wore pinstripes ( Mets have a pinstriped uni )? that team was/is the Yankees. They’re the team who stayed in New York City. Based on recent performance, if the Yankees had moved to California, they’d be about 11 pennants lighter, because they cannot win for losing out there!

Anyhow, the Mets really need Santana, especially after their unprecedented meltdown last season. They may yet get him too. But the Twins are reluctant to make a deal which would make them look weak to their fans. They have the right to ask for a lot, but they are dragging their heels like a guy who has to go to a chick flick.With his wife and mother in law. AND he pathetically keeps trying to get his wife to sweeten the deal— you know how. You also know how it ends. So, in hopes of ending this stale stalemate, I propose the following solution:

The NYY, BRS & Mets make a joint offer. They each give the Twins 4 guaranteed-can’t miss young players( that’s a joke son ) w/less than 2 seasons of MLB service, making them very attractive to Twins owner, Ebeneezer Pohlad ( 12 players for 1 ). Then, the 3 teams can share the use of Santana. Naturally he can’t pitch v. himself, so they’ll need an arcane, rotating formula, which Boston’s Bill ‘ sabermetrician ‘ James can develop, in the same unbiased way ( coughing fit ) George Mitchell did his steroid investigation.

The Twins will of course need 3-6 more months to consider if the offer is a good one, or until their brains thaw. It’s awfully cold in Minnesota, this time of year. . ..

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* US Copyright law does not allow copyright for titles. However, if I see any hacks copping this one, as they did with Santana Clause, I’ll come back and name names. So note the date January 15, 2008. Caveata ides illegitimi!

©2008 Jukeofurl Productions