Quote Of The Day

This quote of the day is NSFW.  That said, it is great not only for the bouncing pecs and body oil but for Booker T's reaction when we realizes what he just said.  Remember, kids.  Wrestling is just acting so when someone goes off script and says something offensive to real people, it can be a big deal.

This Is The Face Of All That Will Haunt Me

Inglorious Basterds, Tarantino's World War II epic(?) features a scene in which a cinema full of Nazis is burnt to the ground, the mocking face of a Jewish girl who survived her family's massacre laughing as they roast to death. (Pro Tip: For the juiciest, most flavorful Nazi roasts, cook at a low heat, turning every fifteen minutes.) That face represented death.

As a Rockies fan, the face below has come to represent everything scary and horrible in the world of baseball.

That is the face of Felipe Paulino, the world's greatest batting practice pitcher and a disgrace to my high school basketball number. Last night he jogged out to the mound in the bottom of the 14th, three out standing between the Rockies and victory. Paulino recorded one out, walked Ryan Braun, and then served a fastball to Prince Fielder that is currently in low earth orbit and threatening the space shuttle Endeavor, to lose again. Now that isn't the whole picture. The Rockies coughed up six leads over 14 innings, and the offense without Carlos Gonzalez or Todd Helton in the line up produced enough runs to win in another sign the offense is getting back to where it was. But the fact remains that Felipe Paulino is a disgrace to the black and purple of the Rockies. With Franklin Morales traded to Boston the day before, Paulino was the sole focus of distress and distrust for Rockies fans. And on Friday night, he did not disappoint. Since May 1, the start of the month which has seen Colorado flounder to a 6-12 record, Paulino is 0-4 with one blown save, including drawing three loses in three straight appearances in one week, two of them to division rival San Francisco. On the year, his numbers are a conglomeration of crooked numbers: four loses, 23 hits and 12 earned runs in 14.1 IPs, sevens walks to 14 Ks, an ERA of 7.36, and a WHIP of 2.05. Wow.

So as Prince's walk off home run sailed in the night in Milwaukee and Paulino trudged off the mound a loser for the fourth time, anyone who knows the Rockies had one thought, "That is the last pitch he will ever throw as a Rockie."

Let's hope we're right.

Revenge Of The English Major... And The End Of The World

This man--curly hair and Williamsburg beard included--just floated a gem against the Yankees.  He's studied narratives, he knows all about literary theory and reader response, and his knuckler just scored one for the Mets in the subway series.  Let's deviate from the R.A. Dickey-an prose and study some statistics:

Mets in May: 11-6
Yanks in May: 8-11 

Now the narrative:

The Yankees are a dinosaur stuck in the mud.  When Bartolo Colon and Freddy Garcia are praised for strong performances, the team is that much closer to complete implosion.  How long can Colon's steady dose of mediocre fastballs hold off the warming bats of spring?  How many times can Freddy hurl the kitchen sink across home plate before his (overweight) body betrays him?  Freddy gave the Yanks seven strong on the bump tonight, but it went to waste--a loss that will be even more poignant when the Yankees are digging for quality innings in late July or August.

On the other side of town, the Mets are enjoying a momentum swing.  They were supposed to be the town's toiling waste of dollars.  The scariest part of their win tonight (for division rivals, at least) is that they pulled out the victory without major contributions from their dependable parts. Reyes came up empty at the plate, and Beltran allowed a catch-able ball sail over the fence for a home run.  R.A. Dickey, Justin Turner, and Daniel Murphy were the biggest heroes of tonight's win.  Do I smell some depth on that roster? 

Perhaps the Yankees will trade for some arms and run away with the division.  Perhaps the Mets will fall back to Earth and trade the ship.  But there is another story building.  The Mets are playing like a team that does not want to be dissolved.  Fate might prove that the Yankees are the car that needs more than a few alterations to keep running.  This is the face of 2011 in the Bronx--and it isn't pretty: 

  Forget what happens tomorrow and Sunday.  R.A. Dickey knows a good story when he sees one, and a good story brings October baseball to Queens.  (If there is an October...)

The End of the World

Consider our trumpet blown.  Or whatever.  Here are three reasons why the world will end on Saturday:

1) The Red Sox and Cubs are engaging in a massive Boston orgy.  Two franchises maligned since the beginning of time are together on the day of reckoning.  Hide your Billy Goats and Buckners--Fenway Park might be the epicenter of Saturday's rapture.

2) Michigan was playing on ESPN tonight and my father didn't watch.  It was softball, can you blame him?  Either way--this is a sure sign that the universe is behaving strangely.

3) Republicans are criticizing a Democratic POTUS for abusing executive powers!  That's right I went there...

If you're feeling lucky, dump all of your money on a horse tomorrow.  Best case scenario: you win.  Worst case: the world ends and you don't owe your local bookmaker anything but a noogie in hell.

Put it on the board, Hawk.