Cubs Raid Mets like a Picnic Basket
Ted Lilly? I mean, come on.
The Cubs didn't just attack the basket full of sandwiches, grapes and cheese, they also took a big dump on the Mets picnic blanket, then chased the Mets all the way back to the big city. In the eighth inning of yesterday's horseshit horror show, Cubs manager Lou Pinella finally found someone Jorrible Sosa could retire: Jason Marquis, a pitcher. Unfortunately, Marquis did not stride up to the plate until Met Killer Ronny Cedeno had already put the game further out of reach (to be honest it was already out of reach) with a grand slam.
It sure was exciting to see a dynamic shortstop carrying his team to victory. Yes, that Ronny Cedeno is a keeper. Even celebrating like its 2006, Jose Reyes has seemingly forgotten how to field. And spark the lineup. But well fans love those clever handshakes, so I suppose it all evens out entertainment wise. Beltran does not look like a man on his way to a MVP run after an off year, his jovial guarantee notwithstanding. Delgado is looking like a sad shell of his former sad shell of a self; Dear diary: I'm impinged. It'll get sadder if Alou returns and does not bring his magic stick of yesteryear, since so many fans' hopes are riding on him. I hope these hopes don't turn out to be delusional.
This team right now looks like it still does not collectively know how to play baseball: Lack of fundamentals turning immediately into big runs.
Once again listening to the Cubs victory song, the kind of thing you'd imagine hearing in a Korean nail salon, one wonders if the Mets will be joining the class of the National League this season--the Cubs, the Brewers, etc. --if they can't beat them. The post-Rick Sutcliffe Cubs are the type of club I have a hard time begrudging sucess. Hell, I would trade them back for the Br*ves anytime. But don't they know this is the Mets' year? Don't Bereave the Hype, fellow Metsfans.
***
Runing out of time, Shea finally says, fuck you Bobby Cox.
The Cubs didn't just attack the basket full of sandwiches, grapes and cheese, they also took a big dump on the Mets picnic blanket, then chased the Mets all the way back to the big city. In the eighth inning of yesterday's horseshit horror show, Cubs manager Lou Pinella finally found someone Jorrible Sosa could retire: Jason Marquis, a pitcher. Unfortunately, Marquis did not stride up to the plate until Met Killer Ronny Cedeno had already put the game further out of reach (to be honest it was already out of reach) with a grand slam.
It sure was exciting to see a dynamic shortstop carrying his team to victory. Yes, that Ronny Cedeno is a keeper. Even celebrating like its 2006, Jose Reyes has seemingly forgotten how to field. And spark the lineup. But well fans love those clever handshakes, so I suppose it all evens out entertainment wise. Beltran does not look like a man on his way to a MVP run after an off year, his jovial guarantee notwithstanding. Delgado is looking like a sad shell of his former sad shell of a self; Dear diary: I'm impinged. It'll get sadder if Alou returns and does not bring his magic stick of yesteryear, since so many fans' hopes are riding on him. I hope these hopes don't turn out to be delusional.
This team right now looks like it still does not collectively know how to play baseball: Lack of fundamentals turning immediately into big runs.
Once again listening to the Cubs victory song, the kind of thing you'd imagine hearing in a Korean nail salon, one wonders if the Mets will be joining the class of the National League this season--the Cubs, the Brewers, etc. --if they can't beat them. The post-Rick Sutcliffe Cubs are the type of club I have a hard time begrudging sucess. Hell, I would trade them back for the Br*ves anytime. But don't they know this is the Mets' year? Don't Bereave the Hype, fellow Metsfans.
***
Runing out of time, Shea finally says, fuck you Bobby Cox.
Labels: nothing doing, tortured metaphors
4 Comments:
At 1:09 PM, Anonymous said…
Why can't these bums win a game? What a buncha bums.
At 2:52 PM, Anonymous said…
It was if instead of a rosin bag, our bullpen was rubbing honey on their hands.
At 8:01 PM, Anonymous said…
Now banned from HF bleachers. You can't handle the truth!
At 1:39 AM, I.M. Forme said…
you've been thrown out of some of the uh finest clubs around.
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