BUY MY BOOK: BARD OF THE DEAL: THE POETRY OF DONALD TRUMP
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Posted by el duque at 8:01 PM
We went to Fenway, sprayed some gasoline, put a funtime licking on them, lit a match and damn near had them fire Bobby Valentine. Wonderful weekend. Seems like last year.
Now, you can feel Boston smirking. They are like the Taliban. They know this year is lost for us - that we're already down to Nelson Figuroa and possible Sidney Ponsons -- and that, moreover, we have just witnessed a generational fiasco. For the next 15 years, they can merely say the name "Jesus Montero," and we will recoil into a painful cringe. They have our mantra. We are the fools, the laughinstock, the clowns of baseball - and our brain trust thought it was so clever.
Taken for a ride by Seattle. Taken for all we were worth. It's like in that movie with Redford and Newman, where in the end the fools don't even know they've been hoodwinked. We were so proud of our due diligence. We ran the guy through a centrifuge. We gave him a colonoscopy. His blood work checked out. He colored in the coloring books and stayed in the lines. But damn those things we didn't check - the fact that his velocity dropped like a ballsack last year, and that Seattle was so willing to deal him for a DH. Remember Bobby Valentine's analysis: If he's so good... why did Seattle trade him?
Bobby Valentine is smirking tonight. Imagine that. Three days. Didn't last long, eh?