I’m rage posting right now. I’m several beers deep, am watching the post-game show for a Little League game, just yelled at my wife for removing her rally cap, and have the uncontrollable urge to Mitch Williams an umpire with a stump hand who, I think, is volunteering for the betterment of the youth of America but also perhaps on the take from a Vegas casino because his Transformer strike zone shrinks to a harmless little box when Taney is on the mound, but grows THIIIIIIIS BIG and has all sorts of protruding extensions that make no sense when Vegas is in the field.
This is why we can’t have nice things, Philadelphia. Oh, here comes sweet, little Taney, with a diverse group of characters and a girl as their star player. Now, let’s stack the deck against them. Let’s have them play NEVADA, a team whose name I write in ALL CAPS to symbolize the giant man children who play for them. That’s just Austin Kryczyukycycykykcykuk– he’s six feet tall with junior prom acne, advancing stubble, a Biogenesis arm, and a newborn at home (congrats to him and his wife!). His nickname is AK-47, because that’s not fucking terrifying or anything. Is this The Hunger Games? Where’s Katniss? I NEED KATNISS. And there’s the first baseman, who has the exact same measurements as me – 6’0, 168 – but our ages are an anagram. Oh and they’re all coached by John Harbaugh lookalike, Captain America, who delivered the following speech to new dad Kryschsdasdfsad on live TV:
“This is America. This is why we’re here. To play the game of baseball. The freedoms that we have.”
That happened. No really. A grown man used his 15 minutes to try to encapsulate the underlying message of The Sandlot during a mound visit to his very own sub-human MAN CHILD. I half expected a voiceover about Wendy Peffercorn to follow. Pretty sure Kryscsadfdakfjdcuk responded with: “If he dies, he dies.”
And despite all that, Taney still had a chance to win the game, to blow it wide open with
men people on-base. But nope. Along came Donovan J. McNabb and his mush-ism, which made its way to ESPN:
THANKS, FIVE. NO ONE LOVES YOU. Somehow, it’s all McNabb’s fault. Again. I need to go to bed… with my #rallycap.