Tuesday, November 13, 2007

probably too busy thinking up new ways to make rookies cry, anyway

Somewhere on a ranch in Texas, an unprintable, f-bomb laden sound bite about not giving a fucking shit about any fucking individual fucking accomplishments is being acidically worded.

(While there is a strong argument to be made, of course, that CC Sabathia compiled superior statistics during the regular season and the baseball writers made the correct decision, make no mistake, I will taste the blood of the two writers who left Beckett off the ballot entirely TONIGHT.)

(And, on the subject that dare not speak its name, it's looking more and more likely that I will see Mike Lowell on a B train to Fenway Park someday and
not have the slightest clue why I want to spontaneously weep.)


At 3:00 PM, Anonymous Jenjifer said...

Un-fucking-believable. I hope CC Sabathia is one his way to the UPS store as I type this.

At 1:39 AM, Blogger Jessica said...

So are they going to tell us who those two writers are? I would like to throw things at them.

At 10:33 AM, Blogger D said...

I know what we should do..... we should have a turkey shoot for the award. Every redneck enjoys a good turkey shoot, and heck who wouldn't want one shot by Beckett, hehehehe. Line em up, take em down. Two of the turkeys can be those 2 damn writers. Any takers on the winner?

At 3:24 PM, Blogger Samer said...

Ladies . . . check ESPN.com, stat. :)


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