Suddenly people in Chicago know who Rich Harden is. Good. It’s about time Cub fans find out they got swindled by Billy Beane because it won’t be long before Harden takes another trip to the DL. In a perfect world, that would’ve happened today. Hoping for such an opportunity, I wanted to see it firsthand. If possible, I wanted to talk to Harden myself and find out how he was going to hurt himself again… how he would do it… would he cry…
That’s why I went to the game.
Don’t worry, dear readers. I am perfectly aware that the simple act of showing my face at Wrigley Field could get me shot, maimed, urinated on and beer bashed. That’s why I wore a mask.
“You mean Red State Blue State?” said the pimply faced kid at the door.
“That’s right.” I replied.
“Man, I write hate mail to that guy every week.”
“Yeah? So you like the blog then?”
“Sure, I like reading it despite all the Cub dissin’ that goes on there. I mean, it is funny. And I hate to say it, but that Jeff Lung guy is a genius.”
“He sure is.”
“Why doesn’t the other guy ever write anything?”
“Oh, Allen? He’s a flake. Confused. Occupied. Look, I need to talk to Rich Harden. Can you get me in to see him?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
The pimply faced kid, totally deceived by my ingenious disguise, led me down to the field level where the Cubs pitching staff was warming up. I posted up along the wall and waited for my opportunity. Harden was nowhere to be seen; just a bunch of relievers lollygaggin’ and doing pilates.
I got impatient. I yelled some not-so-nice things at Neal Cotts and Scott Eyre. They ignored me. To show them just who they were dealing with, I picked up Scott Eyre with my thumb and forefinger — just for fun.
So I ditched the mask.
“Hey, you,” yelled an angry Bob Howry, “you that guy from RSBS?”
“Yeah. That’s me.”
“Yeah? Well, F*** YOU!”
Needless to say, Bob Howry is not a fan. He said some choice things about my mother too, but he obviously didn’t take the time to check his sources because my mother is a very nice lady indeed. In fact, Bob, if you’d like a great recipe for her Oh-So-Good Pie, just holla and I’ll hook you up, D-bag.
Back on the field, Harden was still nowhere to be seen. The sucker was probably warming up away from the press. What a lameball.
But I am not one to disappoint my fellow US Americans hungry for the hard truth. I had to do something. So I didn’t interview Rich Harden. I interviewed a guy who liked Rich Harden. This guy:
Old Grumpy Guy: Who are you?
Me: I’m Jeff Lung from Red State Blue State.
OGG: What do you want?
Me: An answer I suppose… to start with.
OGG: Oh yeah? Well start with this: eat s**t and die, pal. I’ve read your site and you can su<k it!
Suddenly surrounded by a mob of angry Cub fans and their century-long unfulfilled hopes and dreams, I decided the best thing to do was go find my seat.
Once there, finally, I found someone who was happy to see me:
It doesn’t matter what sport, what stadium, what team, friend, foe or fantasy, the beer guy is always glad to see me. I needed the beer too. I was seeing strange things:
And the more Old Style I drank, the less bothered I was by Wrigley’s trademark steel beams that seem to always find a way to get directly in front of me, no matter where I am in that ballpark:
The more Old Style I drank, the more numb I felt as Rich Harden pitched lights out baseball, striking out ten, making me look like a fool. The more Old Style I drank, the less bothered I was that Jim Edmonds — who still don’t look right — had four RBIs and got the crowd to turn into wildly electric banshees.
Sure, I wanted to get up and boo, to remind those Cub fans about their lovable-loser status, to point out the infinite woes of the franchise and all those associated with it — players and fans. But I couldn’t. I was schnockered:
I woke up somewhere around the 9th inning, when Carlos Marmol tried his hardest to lose the game by throwing up underhand soft tosses wherever the opposing hitters requested them. Unfortunately, he only allowed the lowly Giants to tie it by putting up a five-spot, which sent the game into extra innings.
Finally, in the 11th, the Cubs came back to win on a Reed Johnson RBI single. It was a close call at home plate, but the Cubs walked off the winners.
Rich Harden, however, did not get the win. As far as I know, his arm is still connected to the rest of his body, but how long that will actually last is uncertain. I estimate that shortly after the All-Star break he’ll find his way back on the disabled list, and when he does, I’ll be telling all you sCrUB fans that I told you so.
I will also be telling the Tribune Company that they should remove those steel beams from the stadium and hope for the best.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Ah, yes, we humans can be quite the dreamers sometimes. I know I can. I won’t tell you about my most recent dream (believe me, you’d thank me if you could) but I would like to take the time to call out others on their misconstrued fantasies regarding the happenings in the world. On this day in particular — as is usually the case — there is no shortage of ridiculous thoughts, imaginations and pipedreams circulating the baseball-politico world.
Thankfully, these make-believe ideas have not breached the walls of my psyche. It hasn’t been easy staving off the onslaught of fans seeking a glimpse of glory, but I’m proud to say that, for this night, I’ve evaded the paparazzi, locked the doors and shut all the windows. I am safe. And as a stand-up man who speaks for intelligent US Americans around the globe, let me begin by saying that it is a complete pipedream that…
The MLB All-Star Game Is Anything But a Popularity Contest
I know, I know… same story, different year. Seriously though? If “this time it counts” continues to be the theme, the goal, the prize, then why leave it up to a bunch of numbnuts (the American Public — yeah, I said it; they voted for Dubya twice) to decide who should start this pivotal game? How do we do it? Here’s how: don’t let Yankees and Red Sox fans vote. And Florida — the entire state of Florida should not be able to vote… just for fun and because they kind of deserve that punishment. If I’m Terry Francona, and I have even a remote chance of managing in the World Series, I want Jermaine Dye on my team.
It is also an absolute pipedream that…
John McCain Could Balance the Budget By the End of His First Term
This is actually two pipedreams: 1) that he could indeed balance the budget and 2) that he would ever have a first term. Here’s the thing, how are we US Americans supposed to believe we could balance the budget by pouring more money, more resources, more troops into Iraq for another 100 years? We’ve already spent over 500 billion dollars in Iraq since 2002 and lost over 4,000 service men and women. How high will that number go over the next 100 years? And how would we do it when Maliki & Co. want us OUT!?!
Speaking of lunacy, it is also a complete pipedream that…
Rich Harden Will Bring the Cubs a World Series Championship
I know you guys want to believe it. I know you do. You won’t shut up about it. You pretend that the Cardinals aren’t right on your tails. You pretend the Southsiders don’t exist. You actually believe that “this is your year”. Well, it ain’t. And this so-called blockbluster trade proves it. Let me tell ya something: Billy Beane doesn’t trade away a guy unless there’s something wrong with him (see Mark Mulder, Tim Hudson, Barry Zito). There’s something wrong with Harden. I don’t know what it is yet; but I will. I hear that there is a very strong possibility that it involves a goat.
So yeah… it is also an absolute pipedream that…
Obamacons Actually Exist
Like Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and a sober Amy Winehouse, these dreamed-up conservative supporters of Barack Obama aren’t real. Hallmark is busy making up a holiday for them to star in.
Yes. It’s true. And it is also a complete pipedream that…
Alex Rodriquez Will Ever Stay Out of the Tabloids
He’s the best there is at what he does. He’s good looking. He’s into Kabbalah. That’s really all I have to say about that. This is just an excuse to post his picture. I don’t know if you, dear reader, are aware, but RSBS has quite a diverse following: whites, blacks, men, women, Chinese, Japanese and yes, even gays. In fact, I have been pestered by the homosexual community to post more pictures of A-Rod and other cute guys. So here you go, fellas:
Barack Obama Is a Flip-Flopper
Just not true. I know, I know… the Republicans have used this strategy before with much success (see John Kerry, Al Gore) so it makes perfect sense why they would pull it out again; however, this is Barack Obama we’re talking about here. It has been his position since the beginning of the campaign to begin a controlled withdrawal of combat brigades in Iraq. To all you flip-flop-mongering hope-squashing old-hat-wearing Republicans, here’s a great big RSBS EAT IT!
While you’re eating it, please know that it is also an absolute pipedream that…
Kosuke Fukodome Should Be a Starter In the All-Star Game
Soto? Yes. Soriano? Yeah, sure. Fine. Fukudome? No. And here’s why: his line isn’t nearly as good as those who got snubbed completely. Compare his line against those of Corey Hart, Rick Ankiel, Aaron Rowand. I find it very ironic that a fan base that used racial slurs and stereotypes to “welcome” their foreign star stumped the voting booths to make him a starter. So is the way of the Cub fan…
And let me tell ya, it is
also a complete pipedream that…
Anyone Will Care About What John McCain Has to Say at the Republican Convention When the ‘Skins Battle the Giants in an Exciting NFL Opening Night Showdown!
Are you ready for some football?!?
And if that doesn’t get you excited, let me inform you that it’s also a complete pipedream that…
This Randy Johnson Destroying a Bird with a Baseball Video Will Ever Get Old
And really folks, I know it’s an absolute pipedream that…
I’m Anywhere Close to Being Angelic
However, pictures don’t lie and this random shot taken of me in the wee hours of the July 4th morning clearly shows illuminated wings protruding from my back. Say what you will about it, but I’m pretty convinced that I have the whole Michael Landon Highway To Heaven thing goin’ on here.
By the way, the tough guy in the lower left is my Turkish bodyguard Omar; so don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right or I’ll tell him where you live.