Thursday, July 26, 2007
Do you know who I am? Of course you do. I’m the lead Singer of My Chemical Romance. I’m the pagan god of losers and emo fan boys everywhere. I write with oDDLy pLaCeD capital letters because it helps me identify with people who don’t know how to spell. I also can fuck any 13 year old in the country, and that’s girls are well as boys, because they think white hair and pseudo-satanic band outfits are sexy. They also think real bad asses like a 1980’s Motley Crue are macho dickheads, and naturally, I agree.
Are you feeling isolated? Are you feeling alone, angry, and afraid? You must have been a fan of Chase Utley, young friend, and that is why I am here. You see, when something so tragic happens in your life that you become a naked little ball of pre-pubscent emotion, that’s where I come in. I play my little guitar, I rock out in weird costumes, I wear eye shadow, and I make it all go away for that 3:53.
Your friends and family might stand there and mock you about Utley’s injury. They might say “it’s just a game” or “he’s just some player” or “fantasy baseball isn’t real,” but what you’re hearing is “stop wearing makeup, you look like a fairy” or “when you see these pictures 20 years from now, you’ll want to die of shame” or "I'm serious, it's still won't help you get laid." Those words hurt, and when you’re feeling like you do (or more accurately, like WE do) all you have in this world are feelings. Isn’t that what Descartes said? They teach that in 6th grade, right? No? Anyway, don’t be so sad about Chase. All we can do right now to get over this is lean on each other. Or commit suicide (and for that I recommend song three).
I feel really, really, really, rEaLLy bad actually for my Philly fans. The team is always having such bad luck. To tell you the truth, the majority of my fans are from Philly...for some reason, my band and I just make life easier for people who always lose. My advice? Just let it all out in one good cry, and while you’re at it, enjoy this poem I wrote while I try to escape the lewd advances of Hannah Montana. It’s totally already up on my MySpace and Xanga.
When the World Collapses
And the *Stars* FAll down
Then love’s the only recourse
To keep my feet on solid ground.
Mood: Depressed (obvi)
Monday, July 23, 2007
Adventura Police Dept.
ADVENTURA, FL 3:40 AM
Some people don’t like the graveyard shift. They think the hours feel too long, and the wrong kinds of people are out this late at night. But you know, these are also the same kinds of people who don’t like Haitian gangs, Columbian drug smugglers, Mexican ex-pats, white-crazies, and underground street fights that may or may not be perpetuated by Kimbo Slice. It’s all part of the charm of Miami. Will Smith made that video, Colin Farrell made that movie. Miami can’t be that bad, I mean, Shaq’s here. I served with him once. How he passed the fitness test to become deputized I have no idea, because the man weighs nearly 400 lbs, but the fact that he’s participating and trying to make his community better gives me and the fellow officers a lot of respect for him and all the athletes in this area. Except for the Miami Hurricanes, of course.
(Pickup truck swerves into view)
Ten-twenty-two. It looks like we’ve got a violation here, 48 miles an hour in a 35. Most of the time that’s about par for the course, but this late at night, there’s probably some trouble going on. I’ll flash him and see what he does.
(flashes the siren, car continues at same pace)
Please be advised, we have a seafoam green Ford pickup, unknown make. Warrant search on license plate number is “B-O-N-U-Z-B-A-B-I.”
Well… he’s failing to stop, and whoops, just ran that stop sign. We might have ourselves a runner, here. Unit 64, requesting backup on possible DUI. Just ran a stop sign and is failing to stop. Also note the bumper sticker that reads “In one hand’s a baseball and in the other’s my cock,” which may be a violation of the decency statute, I’m not sure.
(Car travels a mile, and then stops, as the driver, Marlins pitcher Scott Olsen, gets out and sits in a white lawn chair)
Sir-- sir get up from that chair.
(belches) There a problem occifer?
Can I see some ID please?
What? I didn’t do nothin’. I came from work, got outta my truck, and now I’m sitting and enjoying this weather.
(checks over the ID) Ok. Did you see me trying to pull you over?
What? I didn’t see nothin’.
Did you see me try and pull you over?
I didn’t see nothin’. Look man, I’m just trying to live my life, ok? Just trying to live my life. I don’t come trying to live your life, don’t try to come live mine.
What have you been doing tonight?
I’m just shitting out… (snorts laughter) yea, I’m just sitting out enjoying thish nice weather.
Did you have anything to drink tonight, sir?
Did you have anything to drink tonight, sir?
Hell yea I some to drink. I just beat the fucking shit out of the Cincinnati Reds, and I think I have the right to celebrate.
Do me a favor please sir, stand up. We’re going to give you a field sobriety test. Uh, sir?
(Olsen collapses in a heap)
Sir, sir, you’re going to have to stand up if you want to take the test.
Alright, sir. We’re beginning the field sobriety test now. Please recite the alphabet backwards, starting from the letter Z.
Z-Y-X-W-T-U-Z Joe Girardi’s a fucking asshole, next time sing with me shitface. HAHAHAH!! (falls down laughing)
(rolls eyes) Alright, that’s a fail… now, phase two of the test, can you now stand on one leg for 30 seconds? Can you? No… no, sir, don’t go into the windup, and don’t start throwing imaginary pitches—sir? If you continue you’re going to have to do it again.
Those faggots wanted to trade me for Rocco Baldelli? Look who’s playing baseball now. Look who’s playing baseball now? Rocco Baldelli is a fucking pussy. Guy fucking… wouldn’t want to start for any team…
Looks like we’ll mark that as fail. Now sir, focus on me. Can you please follow this light with your eyes, and don’t move your head? Use only your eyes when following my flashlight. Ready? Ready? Begin… sir, why are you staring so hard at me?
I’m showing you my war face.
This is the face I use when I’m going to war. This is my war face. This is the Game 7 World Series war face. This is "I’m going to fucking destroy you" war face, because there is no way in hell we are worse than the fucking Nationals war face, and I will not be relocated to Las Vegas, or Monterray, Mexico, because all of my shit is here and I don’t fucking want to go anywhere.
Uh, ten-twenty-two, we’re gonna need some more backup.
I’m not fucking going anywhere!!
Sir, I am going to place you under arrest for driving under the influence
No! Fuck you! I wasn’t even driving! I wasn’t even driving!
Sir, you have a right to take a breathalyser test…
Fuck you John Law! You’re on my fucking property, and you need to get the fuck out right now.
Sir, if you don’t start to calm down and submit to a test or arrest then we will have to taze you.
I will fucking beat your skinny ass like you are Sergio fucking Mitre if you get the fuck off my house right now!
We’re not on your house sir!
I will fucking use karate! I will fucking use my karate! (starts kicking at the police)
Hold him on the ground! Stop resisting! Taze him again.
Alright, cuff him up. Cuff him up. You got him? Alright, pull him up. Scott Olsen, you are being placed under arrest for driving while under the influence, and resisting arrest for said crime. You have the right to remain silent…
…anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, and if you can’t afford one, then one will be provided for you by the state…
Do you understand these rights?
..........I feel like Miguel Cabrera’s colon.
I’ll take that as a yes. Guys, take him away.
(Olsen is put in the back of a squad car and is driven off to the police station.)
That was just crazy. Absolutely just bizarre. I mean, I arrested Dontrelle a couple months ago, and it was nothing like this. The guy was respectful, nice even. I mean, he was sitting in a pool of his own urine, drenched in Boones Farm, and he was actually pulling sparks on the inside of the guardrail. But this was just crazy.
Just one more night in Miami.
Hat-Tip: S2N via WithLeather.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Here at SlickBomb’s On The Show, I do other things than bash prospects, make fun of bad teams, and do impressions of front-office types. I also read message boards to near-obsessive levels, and I think now would be a good time to share some of the funniest lines, pictures, or avatars that populate the message boards of America’s baseball die-hards. You might say I’m being lazy, and I might tell you to kiss off. If WithLeather, Deadspin, and KSK can get by with purely commeting posts, then why can't I?
In part wakefield, mostly the problem has been the same all season: No clutch hitting. This team will not win this year w/o some sort of shake up -- SinCitySoxFan1978, Sons of Sam Horn.
Heh. I guess eight games up post All-Star Break isn’t nearly enough, then? When people call Sox fans neurotic barely-functional whackos, this is probably why.
Kyle Farnsworth- 101 MPH of pure dogshit. -- Tommy22, NoMass.org board.
Short, succient, to the point, and 100% correct. Just imagine if he was playing in right field.
-- JLaff, Athletics Nation.
Bwahaha. Picture’s worth a thousand words. Why Kendal is wearing a football helmet, though, I have no idea.
What do the Pirates have to lose? How about the rest of the fan base? -- Nathan, Where Have You Gone Andy Van Slyke?
Remember, kids. It can always get worse. You could be the Cubs!
those ankiel minor league stats almost make me cry... i say we bring him up, wait till some extra inning game when LaDuncs used all of our bullpen playing the matchup game then ask ankiel to throw a few innings instead of spezio and who knows, maybe the young ace returns... i'd say that would solve our pitching problem. -- all in the cards, Viva El Birdos.
Come on. If that’s not the funniest thing you’ve ever read then you haven’t been paying attention. A World Series win last year and these guys are STILL thinking Ankiel's the savior. This guy did a Mark Fidrych impersonation better than Mark Fidrych! Let the man hit!
-- Fat Vegas Alan, Red Reporter.
As if the State of Ohio didn't have enough to worry about already.
-- Rev HaloFan, Halos Heaven.
If Ervin Santana gets this kind of reaction, imagine the feelings about Bartolo Colon? You just can't trust a pitcher named after an excretion organ. That picture just slays me, no pun intended.
I've always thought Jose Valentin looks like a rapist. -- The Third Giles, Gas Lamp Ball.
Yes, yes, and more yes. Ladies in the bars of New York, when Jose Valentine offers you a drink, say you have a boyfriend and walk away.
That’s enough for me. Remember folks-- if you're saying something interesting on the Internet, then people will read it, and laugh either with or at you. Hopefully it's more of the latter.
Monday, July 16, 2007
Greetings, fuckwits. You are all lucky enough to be in the presence of the most freakishly intelligent man in the history of professional baseball. I find your invitation to the Pasadena Shrine of the Eternals appropriate, and thus, I’ve decided to actually show up and do a little Q & A. It’s not quite the baseball Hall of Fame, but that will obviously come in time. My minions call me "The Sage of New Hampshire," and this gives me the right to pass on a hearty “fuck you” to Warren Buffet, "The Sage of Ohmaha." Whereas I’m the sage of my own state, he’s only a sage of a city, so I own his ass. What do you mean New Hampshire doesn’t count as a state? Lick my balls.
For years I’ve been saying things like “It’s entirely possible to be completely successful in the baseball business without ascribing to any of my work.” I, much like the vast majority my followers (just look on Internet message boards everywhere), am reversing this statement, and saying that it is total bullcrap, and anyone who doesn’t follow in-depth statistical baseball analysis should automatically lose the right to watch a game of professional baseball. I mean, why watch when you can't possibly understand everything what's going on? In some cases, said person should lose the right to breed, because he/she might have a son, and that would pervert this glorious eugenics of baseball I’m striving to achieve, here. Baseball is not for the plebs, people! It is for we happy few, we band of egg-heads, who have never played an ounce of the game professionally yet still by the light of our incalculable intellects, know absolutely everything there is to know. On to your almost certainly dumb questions.
What’s your opinion of Darin Erstad, and considering his track record with the Angels, isn't a player like that valuable on a championship team?
Haha. HAHAHAHA. BWAHAHAHA!! In the Dark Ages, hordes of roving barbarian Cossack tribes in what is now Southern Russia would conquer neighboring peoples, and in a fit of sport, would throw their infant children to hungry wolves and watch them be eaten. That’s what I’d do to Darin Erstad, if I had a time machine, which by the way, I’m inventing, and fuck you, it’s already patented, because it’s a motherfucking time machine. Darin Erstad blows donkey balls. He can’t hit, he can’t field, and he can’t play. And who gives a monkey-shit about how he “hustles” and “won championships”? I don’t know how many times I have to say this: if I can’t put it in a spreadsheet, dickhead, then it DOESN’T.FUCKING.EXIST.
Look where that little bitch is right now-- trying to avoid getting DFA’ed by the Chicago White Sox (or CHA for any of you non BP subscribing cock goblins). Any team that steals, bunts, and gives consistent AB’s to Scott Podsednik, deserves a punch right in the pussy. Darin Erstad sucks, he should die, next question.
Are you impressed with Brewers 1B Prince Fielder, and what does his progression mean for smaller market teams?
According to the tools that I invented (praise me) such as VORP, RCAA, Win Shares, and other super-cereal-statistics given by me solely to the Boston Red Sox to be unleashed like a tactical nuclear warhead, I can tell you that Prince Fielder is the best overall player in terms of everything, relative to cost. Yea and what else is new? What this means for smaller market teams is that it is time to stop spending big money on marquee free agents if your team is filled with a bunch of crap players. The only way to make your team succeed is to undergo a harsh rebuilding process where nearly each and every one of your core players is acquired through the draft. What if you can't draft, or afford the outrageous signing bonuses top picks get nowadays? Too bad bitch. Now, this rebuilding typically takes around five years, and by that time your fans will either be gone, rooting for the Yankees, or giving their energies to a different sport, but how is that my fucking problem exactly? I just make the rules, if you don’t like the way how they’re used, then tough testicles. After all, the best part about sitting in an ivory tower is pissing on the people below you.
Mr. James, you’ve never apologized for your criticisms of the Dowd report, despite Pete Rose proclaiming his guilt and affirming everything written in its findings. Don’t you think that as one of the leading voices in baseball theory, you have an obligation to speak your piece on a corrupting influence in the game?
No comment, next question, and fuck you.
Horrors of horrors, the New York Yankees haven’t won a World Series in seven whole years. Isn’t it better to let A-Rod opt out, and try to rebuild the team around pitching and defense? The guy isn’t at all clutch!
I remain unconvinced about the theory of “clutch” and it’s usefulness to baseball analysis. But what I do know is that you are a drooling, dribbling, retard. According to my statistics (again, praise me) Rodriguez is the best all-around player in the game. Consider that with the dollars Texas has contributed, and Rodriguez is a relative bargain for New York. There are some indicators that in a short series, pitching and defense wins (the sample sizes are too small obvi), but your belief that the Yankees should rid themselves of their best player in order to achieve this is somewhere between the stupidest idea that’s ever defiled the sanctuary of my glorious mind, and guganuafia’a, which is stat-speak for “you are a dumbshit.” But sure, fuck it, boo the fucker and drive him away. It makes my job a hell of a lot easier.
In closing, I’d like to thank Pasadena, but truly, I am already an “Eternal.” It was a nice ceremony, with balloons and sangria, but I was expecting something more… regal. After all, I am the father of statistical baseball analysis, the most important man in baseball, and (according to some people) the finest living being on the planet. Armchair net jockeys everywhere use my teachings like a voodoo talisman against any who would dare say that it's important to steal when the team can't seem to score. I’m like Kim Jong Il from the North Korean perspective, except I look like the gay guy who won the 1st Survivor competition. Next time, I hope you change your veneration practices accordingly, and try hard not to be so stupid.
Have you ever eaten a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup while sitting on the toilet? It’s an interesting experience to say the least. The sweet, chocolate, peanut-buttery taste caresses your taste buds in their succulent awesomeness, but because of the look of the candy and the place you’re sitting, the thought never leaves your mind that “Oh my God, I think I'm eating a giant sample of stool!” That’s basically how I feel about the 2007 Milwaukee Brewers. It might look and taste good, but after thinking about it, things go downhill pretty quickly.
The positives about these guys are the platitudes: “They play the game the right way,” “they have a lot of youth and enthusiasm,” “the game comes easy to them,” etc. Have you ever actually looked at the way their lineup is constructed? The starting pitching is not that great, and wunderkind Ben Sheets is still an injury waiting to happen. After one more ten strikeout game his arm is bound to explode. Ace-closer Francisco Cordero has been among the NL’s best this season, but this is the player who made a Howard Hughes style meltdown in Texas look like cold feet before marriage. Before you know it, the guy will be blowing saves, throwing up like Willie Beaman in the bullpen before games, and keeping his urine in plastic bags.
The hitting is not much better. JJ Hardy has been playing over his head for a while now, and is due for a regression. Do you really thing he’s going to hit 35 HR’s, and have a slugging percentage around .500? There is no chance the 2nd coming of Alex Rodriguez could play in Milwaukee-- it’s seriously not possible. Besides, the guy is basically the Brady Quinn of professional baseball. Is this the kind of dude you’d really want your team to rely on down the stretch? And speaking of “stretching,” “closing windows”, and JJ Hardy, let’s just say that the one in the upper-deck isn’t the only chute that Bernie Brewer is sliding around in.
And speaking of horrific regressions, how about 3B, SS and OF Bill Hall? It seems like last year was the serious aberration, and this season is indicative what Hall can do. This guy’s strikeouts make Mike Cameron look like Tony Gwynn, except thinner and not nearly as black. Not to mention that by the time Hall is finished getting worse, the guy’ll be playing in AAA, and will have by that time committed a fantasy baseball holocaust not even the owners of Andruw Jones have ever seen.
If these things happen (and the way things have gone for the Brewers and their fans, they must) then the team’s division rivals are bound to overtake them eventually. Although it’s generally not a good idea to count on the Cubs for anything other than national embarrassment, the 300 million dollar men are starting to come around as of late, and are only about four games back in the division standings. In addition, the computer projections have always like the Cards in this division, and if Albert Pujols makes up for the time that was lost earlier in the season, and the Rick Ankiel experience gives the team a Josh Hamilton-level boost, then the NL Central crown will be ripe for the picking.
Time to face the facts—the Brewers are doomed. The club right now is hanging by a thread, and is probably a Paris Hilton hookup away from all out implosion. They might have tasted pretty good at first, but all you’ve really been eating is a nice chunk of feces. It might have taken a little longer than I originally projected, but the season is over nonetheless. Enjoy watching the playoffs at home once again, gentlemen, and please watch where you eat.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
According to the Seattle Times, the Mariners are set to sign Ichiro Suzuki for 20 million dollars over the next five years, signaling that after a few years of financial discipline and forward thinking, the financial baseball market has gone officially and completely insane. Keeping Ichiro around for the short-term should be a priority, but the long term ramifications of this deal make Alfonso Soriano’s mega-deal with the Cubs look like Frank Thomas’ year in Oakland by comparison. Seeing Garret Anderson, Bernie Williams, and Jeff Bagwell cripple around the bases in their twilight years hasn’t exactly inspired GM’s everywhere to give older guys big contracts, has it?
Despite a few inquiries to the contrary, Ichiro is a no-doubt Hall of Famer. 200 hits a season for 10 years would put him in the pantheon for the best pure hitters in the history of the game: Cobb, Gwynn, ####*, Aaron. But as much of a reputation as Ichiro has (and you basically have to have a rep to get away with using only one name) the guy isn’t the overall offensive weapon some folks make him out to be. He doesn’t get on base regularly, he doesn’t hit for power, really all he does is hit the ball well and generally keeps it in the park, and I’m under the impression that those kinds of guys don’t age too well.
Think about it, singles hitters rely so much on their speed—to stretch out a double from a hit that would ordinarily be a single, or beat out a bunt attempt or a chop over the mound outright. Without that speed, the 30 or so extra hits a year that turn into outs can take a pretty hefty toll on a batting average, and when you don’t hit for power or walk much to begin with… a team miiiight not want to give that guy big dollars until he’s nearly 40. Throw in what seems to me like a generally mediocre performance in centerfield this year, and this has Bernie Williams territory written all over it. This is not to say that Ichiro won’t be a productive player for the next few years, but for the next five? That gets a little iffy. Are the dollars that come in from Japan with Ichiro playing really enough to make up for a 20 million dollar below average player in 2011?
The real story out of all this is the coinciding bump free agents will get in salary once this deal’s done. With a slap-hitter like Ichiro making 20 million, what will this do to the rest of baseball salaries? 20 million for Torii Hunter? 25 Million for the atrocious Adam Dunn? 30 million for Carlos Zambrano? Don’t even get me started on what A-Rod will be worth. This all started when Omar Minaya gave 13 million to the rotator cuff formally known as Pedro Martinez, and with the contemptible Scott Boras having the ear of the commissioner, chances are it’ll only get worse.
Fans everywhere are getting screwed because of this deal, and not just because that little SOB Ichiro will be terrorizing the AL for the next half decade. The increase in player salaries across the board will mean that (a) Your favorite player will be leaving for bigger money than it takes to keep him and (b) When he signs that contact, he’ll be terrible by the end of it. You mean there’s a lose-lose situation in baseball that doesn’t involve watching the Home Run derby? Count me in! The baseball financial market’s officially done lost it’s mind. Time to ride the madness, watch the carnage, and just sit back and enjoy the crazy.
*Name redacted by order from Major League Baseball and its clubs.
Monday, July 9, 2007
In terms of generally every measure, be it wealth, influence, or happiness, almost every place on Earth has been made better by the natural wheels of the future that creates progress as a byproduct. In fact, there are few places on planet in this world that are demonstrably worse today than they were 30 years ago. However, arch-dictator Robert Mugabe’s Zimbabwe just so happens to be one of those places. The other is the baseball city of Pittsburgh, under the stewardship of CEO Kevin McClatchy. Now, you might read the post’s title and think that comparing a relatively benign executive to a murderous and possibly insane African dictator is the height of lunacy, but hey, crazy is what I do here at OnTheShow, and if you laugh at something horrible, it helps make the nightmarish reality of it all much easier to deal with. This reality being 14 losing seasons, of course. Let us count the transgressions against humanity!
Ignoring the pleas of fans = Massive Voter Suppression
Numerous petitions for new ownership = institutional election fraud
Trading Kris Benson = Systematic persecutions of homosexuals
Using tax dollars to build PNC = race-based farm takeover program
Causing a statewide increase in Phanaics = thousands of executions
Having to pay beyond top dollar for anything resembling a decent free agent = Weekly increases in inflation that’s risen to nearly 15,000 percent above the norm
The only accurate descriptions for each of these places are quaint little corners of Hell. The ‘Burgh has ugly women, crummy weather, the Amish, and 14 years of unabated losing. Zimbabwe has AIDS, malaria, widespread starvation, and unimaginable poverty. It’s my understanding that when faced with a choice between the two, most people would pick Pittsburgh, but they might have to think about it. Now, according to several sources, change is in the air. Mugabe is promising elections within the next two to four years, and Pirates CEO Kevin McClatchy has agreed to step down after this season. But then again, haven’t Mugabe apologists been saying the “old man” will eventually step down for a while now? The way the Pirates operation has shaken out, I can see McClatchy staying on while a replacement is found, then staying on for another season, then staying on indefinitely. If it works for 3rd world dictators after all, it’ll work for the Pittsburgh Pirates.
The baseball city of Pittsburgh and Mugabe’s Zimbabwe are some of the most wretched places to have ever cursed God’s Earth. The transgressions against their people are legion, and all stem from the leadership of the executive. The sooner these two are removed from their posts, the sooner their followers can enjoy living again, and move in a more positive direction. After all, Andruw Jones is a free agent, and the status quo hasn't worked out. They're bound to be interested, right?
NOTE: If you’d like to make a contribution to the very generous causes of helping the people mentioned in this post click here. Or, you know, here.
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
July 4th is a celebration of our independence, and all of what is right in the United States. There are only two things that I can think of are quintessentially American. One is Jazz. The other is baseball. On this outstanding July 4th holiday, I hope that you are doing one of those things that isn’t lame. Catch you guys on the flip.
Sunday, July 1, 2007
On Sunday, Mike Hargrove resigned as the Manager of the Seattle Mariners due to a “lack of passion” for the game, and an interest to spend more time with his family. OnTheShow interviewed high profile players on the club to gauge their reactions.
Jeff Weaver, SP – Damn brah, I’m so high right now. I think I just need to lay down and ish. What? Grover’s gone dude? No way, man. How can you not love it here? The coffee’s great, the music scene is so uplifting, and the local college has some of the best weed in the country. Whatever the reason, it can’t be my pitching, right? I’ve been on a roll this month, right? I don’t even know anymore, man.
Richie Sexson, 1B – Out of all the people I’ve been managed for (and believe me, there has been a few), Grover’s probably the only guy who’d call a hit-and-run when I was on 1st base. I’d be all like “Grover, the last time I successfully stole a base was in 1997.” Well, he said he “had a feeling about it,” and I guess he has a feeling about this play too. I just hope it works out better than that hit-and-run did.
Adam Jones, OF – Grover was the 1st manager I’ve ever had, so I’ll remember his lessons for the rest of my career, ya know? My favorite lesson was “use a different name when checking into a hotel.” I was in Tacoma playing in AAA, and after pickin' up some poonani, and I tried to check in as Adam Jones. Peoples start jumpin’ over tables for cover and shit. I was like “damn, yo, I ain’t Pac-Man!” but they wouldn’t listen. People started crying, begging for their lives and ish. Dudes started giving me their wallets. This one dude gave me a diamond ring he was smuggling up in his ass, and I was like “yo, son, I ain’t Pac-Man.” It’s like every black athlete with essentially no college education named Adam Jones is forever tainted because of this crackhead. If he goes to play the Seahawks in five years after he gets outta prison or whatever, I’ma beat his ass.
Shigeru Miyamoto, Nintendo – As Head Game Designer for Nintendo, Inc, I knew Hargrove-san, but only tangentially. I tried to create a baseball game using Hargrove’s exact managerial techniques, and it resulted in game with all-time lows in scoring. He would call bunts for Adrian Beltre, and would steal bases with Kenji Jojima. Everyone at Nintendo appreciated his years of service, but perhaps this is for the best.
Ichiro, OF – Manager Hargrove always managed with the warrior’s spirit, and tried his best to instill the spirit within all who played for him. However, his recent abandonment of our team makes us all question his teachings. A general who flees while his troops are still in battle is a coward of the highest order, and his family name will be forever stained. If he wishes to cleanse himself from this dishonor, he is welcome to take his own life via seppuku. Out of respect, I will allow him my sword for this task.