Doggie guru Cesar Millan has taught me many a valuable life lesson. The first — and most important — is that I am the pack leader. In order to maintain pack leader status, I must emit a calm yet dominant energy. A brief scan of recent RSBS posts would be more than enough to convince every living being of my fulfillment of this necessary role. Second: happiness comes from excercise, discipline, then affection, in that order and in that order only. Food is optional. Just ask the Olsen twins. They seem to be doing fine. But sometimes, dear readers, these are not enough. Fear is an untouchable giant among short people and fear can cause myriad setbacks to one’s personal success, satisfaction, serenity.
For this reason, I have decided not to argue with Mr. Krause on his most recent ramblings regarding MLB playoff restructuring. Despite his fixation on how greedy and seedy MLB front offices tend to be and besides his disconnect with the purism-is-passion campaign I so wholeheartedly support, he does make a few good points. In short, nothing is going to change right now, so I might as well get used to it and hope for the best.
Just for today, I’m content with that.
Fear, which has long been an issue my Tiger-lovin’ friend has struggled with, must be addressed. If I were to walk away without confronting his deepest, underlying and now-in-the-open anxieties, I would be a poor voice for US Americans. In his last post, he let it be known that:
“…a specter came back to haunt me today…”
That specter’s name is Jeff Samardzija — Notre Dame superstar and latest edition to the Chicago Cubs pitching staff. Admittedly, I share no love for the man just as I share no love for Notre Dame nor the Cubs; however, to me, he is a man. Unfortunately for Mr. Krause, Samardzija has taken on an entirely phantasmal nature capable of penetrating and destroying his entire being.
And Samardzija is not the only one…
Dear readers, this must stop. It must stop today. And as Cesar has so rightfully taught us, it will stop by confronting, defeating and slaying. Attention all specters inhabiting Allen Krause’s mind: Be Gone!
Regis Philbin, Be Gone!
Famed Notre Dame alumnus known for entertaining housewives for over two decades now, this specter haunted Allen by asking “Who wants to be a millionaire?” to which Allen responded, “Who wants my foot in his ^ss?”
The Combination of Brad Lidge and Roger Clemens, Be Gone!
Lidge went to Notre Dame and became a fire-balling closer infamous for losing his mind under pressure. Clemens wore a Notre Dame jersey for a publicity stunt and pressured his body by juicing it until he lost his mind.
Hannah Storm, Be Gone!
This Notre Dame graduate (are you seeing a pattern develop?) became a female sports broadcasting star with NBC — the ultimate purveyor of all-things Fighting Irish. In specter form, she subliminally caused Allen’s abhorrent distaste for white women.
Carl Yastrzemski, Be Gone!
With that name, it’s hard to believe he went to Notre Dame but it’s true. He did. And his nickname was “Yaz”, which spelled backwards is “Zay”, like the language spoken in Ethiopia. And you know what you can find in Ethiopia? Missionaries. Catholic missionaries. Catholic missionaries who have ties to Notre Dame. Yeah, Yaz’s specter is one that runs circles around Mr. Krause’s mind.
Antonin Scalia, Be Gone!
Not a Notre Dame grad, but he might as well be. A highly conservative supreme court justice who just happens to be Catholic (not a bad thing in my book — the Catholic part), Allen saw him wearing blue and gold once and jumped to conclusions… Scalia’s been fear-mongering ever since.
Aaron Heilman, Be Gone!
You guessed it. A Notre Damer. Also pitches in New York, for the Mets. Famous for giving up the 9th inning dinger to Yadier Molina that put the Cardinals in the 2006 World Series against the Tigers (whom they eventually destroyed), Allen still holds a grudge against this specter. Also interesting is the fact that Heilman sounds a lot like Heisman, which is a prestigious college football award bestowed upon Tim Brown — also from Notre Dame — in 1987, which is a year that the Cardinals went to the World Series and the Tigers did not (though they were close).
…and finally, the biggest, most bothersome, most destructive specter of them all:
And I ain’t goin’ anywhere, Al, so you just better get used to it.
I know it’s tough, but don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.