There are two taxing and equally debilitating activities that I force myself to partake in, every… single… day. I swallow a big@$$ horse-pill that’s supposed to make my cartilage stronger; and I read all of the headlines on The Drudge Report.
If I had time, I would also stick rusty needles under each of my fingernails.
Why do I do these things? I take the horse-pill ‘cuz it comes highly recommended by my doctor, and my doctor is a smart dude (he hates the Cubs, man!).
And I check in with The Drudge Report because it’s important to know what the “other” side is thinking, how they’re scheming, how they’re fear mongering and how they’re faring in other popular GOP pastimes. But mostly I just like to laugh at how Drudge turns a headline like “Wall Street Baffled by Slowing Economy” into “WE ARE ON THE VERGE OF A GREAT, GREAT DEPRESSION”.
Indeed, I tip my cap for his savvy, but I wave my finger at his twisted incitations.
And to put things in perspective, I instructed the RSBS interns to take three recent MLB headlines and hand them over to Matt Drudge, just to see what would happen.
Here’s what we got:
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Original Headline:”White Sox enjoy another sweep at Fenway”
Headline on Drudge: “SHOW ME ALEXEI RAMIREZ’S BIRTH CERTIFICATE DAMMIT!!!”
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Original Headline: “Holliday, McClellan both land on Cards’ DL”
Headline on Drudge: “HOLLIDAY NEVER F$&*ING TOUCHED HOME, HE NEVER TOUCHED IT, HE NEVER TOUCHED IT, I CALL DO-OVER!!!”
– – –
Original Headline: “Swisher’s Swat Solidifes Sweep for Yankees”
Headline on Drudge: “OMG JORGE POSADA SUCKS, THE BRONX IS BURNING AND WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE!!!”
– – –
Hate me ‘cuz I got the connections to make it happen, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right!
Spin the chamber. Pull the trigger. See who you get.
On Sunday night, you got Russ Springer in the 8th inning. You also got the rocket-like go-ahead homerun Shane Victorino catapulted off the aging journeyman reliever, which ruined a splendid starting performance by Todd Wellemeyer.
So it’s the same old story in St. Louis.
The bullpen is about as reliable as GW Bush is eloquent and the Cardinals have done a wonderful job of losing tight ballgames all season long because no one in the pen has been able to close the deal. No one instills fear. No one throws better than my grandma.
While John Mozeliak looks more and more like Ann Coulter, the Cardinals look more and more like a rollover ballclub that realistically can’t compete with the rest of the division, league, sport.
Dear readers, the dreaded paradigm shift seems to have begun. Don’t adjust your monitor; what you are witnessing is real. It appears that the Cardinals of today are not the Cardinals of yesterday. They went from a heady go-get-em front office to a sit back and pray for the best front office in just one GM switch; and I’m afraid that in baseball, that philosophy doesn’t ever work.
Look at the Royals.
I have gone to great lengths to adequately describe — with videos and pictures — the extreme pain and anguish involved in watching the Cardinals try to hold a lead late in the game. Presently, I feel that I am at a loss for expression. How can I go any lower?
I’m afraid I can’t. But I am an US American and US Americans don’t give up. We never give up, even when a bitter, out-of-touch GOP presumptive nominee fails to realize that he received donations from a prominent hotelier who just so happened to sire the very vixen said nominee compared his opponent to in a scrupulous attack ad meant to instill psychological distrust among the mass of US Americans. No, we don’t give up in the face of such abuses of power, and we won’t give up in the fight against mediocrity.
To prove that this calloused plight is real, I recently started the Bring Bruce Sutter Out of Retirement Campaign. While I go door to door to bring back Bruce, I also arranged for Dave LaRoche to school the Cardinals bullpen on the finer points of the Eephus pitch exhibited here:
It might not seem like much, but it’s more comforting than TLR and Dunc spinning the chamber and hoping they don’t get their brains blown out. Of course, the optimist in me realizes that things could always be worse…
We could be the Tigers after all.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.