Today is election day here in the Chi. Rahm. Carol. Chico. Some other guy. Those are your choices for mayor. Oh… I mean, those are your Democratic party choices. In this town, Republicans just hang out at the local deep dish joint and get fat, occasionally showing up to an event to slam a Democrat or two. Such slams are rarely heard. Like they say, if a tree falls…
And don’t worry. When I showed up to vote this morning I didn’t let that pesky ghost of Ron Santo standing outside the polling center sway me. And judging by the turnout (or lack thereof), I don’t think anyone else is voting him in either.
Some things never change… like…
MR. KRAUSE’S WAR!
So, will you or won’t you, dear readers? Will you follow my jaded and oft lugubrious colleague, Mr. Allen Krause, to the trenches of a baseball-less existence… all to stick it to a guy (assuming Bud Selig does have proper male anatomy) who doesn’t care, who isn’t listening, who won’t get it anyway? Are you really ready to stay home and watch Maury all day instead of batting practice? Are you prepared to sulk in the reality that is a soulless sports sanctuary that includes *cough* the NBA and NHL? You do know that this has nothing to do with forcing change (why bring it up just now after all these years?) and everything to do with misery loves company, right?
It’s true dear readers… and it’s all the fault of…
Who else is to blame for Mr. Krause’s sudden bout of revolutionary activism? Why it can only be his beloved man-crush Miguel Cabrera, of course! With Miggy’s er… uh… “issues” causing alarm throughout the Tigers organization, Mr. Krause knows that his team’s season could be well over before it even starts. And that is why he is rushing to react, to draw in troops, to overthrow the baseball world so we all lose sight of Detroit slipping below Kansas City in the win column.
Believe it. Or don’t. Just don’t say you weren’t warned by someone in the know.
And… don’t hate me. ‘Cuz I’m right.
Just like a Pedro Martinez pitched inning circa 1999, this is gonna be quick, probably painful and will most likely include more soul-glo than the FDA deems acceptable:
A few weeks ago, I ran into Rahm Emanuel at the Roosevelt Red Line stop. I shook his hand, wished him luck in the Chicago mayoral election, then basked in the warm glory that is his presence. Yeah, kinda makes me sick too. But I can’t lie. He had a an insidiously welcoming glow about him. And as I stood there, standing next to (and above, as the man is quite short) him, I couldn’t help but debate myself, asking Well, Jeff, are we on Rahm’s team or no?
Of course, Rahm is Rahm and Rahms don’t go down without a fight.
So let’s sit back and watch as time and LOTS OF MONEY are wasted on the proceedings.
The American Way.
Se la vie.
Call it desperation or call it genius (I’m goin’ with genius, by the way), but the Tamp Bay Rays certainly found a flashy way to fill some holes in their lineup by adding Idiot One and Idiot Two to their roster. On the cheap! Hey, if they could just convince Curt Schilling (and that unstoppable mouth) to suit back up, maybe the Rays will have a real chance at stickin’ it to the Yank Sox again this year! If nothing else they have succeeded in ultimately defying logic: Manny Ramirez will get $2 million while *GASP* Kyle Farnsworth will make $2.7 million! WTF?!?!?!?
Say what you want about the Chicago Bears and their NFC Championship performance, but as a Chicagoan, I call out to all fellow Chicagoans to lay off Jay Cutler. For realz.
In fact, I’m just gonna shut up about it and defer to RSBS regular, Johanna Mahmud with the quote:
“you can never quiet the stupid.“
Hate me, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.