FIFTY THOUSAND MOONS
Saturday, July 18, 2015
Posted by el duque at 7:14 AM
First off, screw you and your freedom beard, and wipe that warm, Hey-It's -Me,-Robbie smile off your face, because it's a lie, a subterfuge, a mask of deceit: You pitched us overboard to chase an extra sack of dimes. No, wait... actually, you crapped all over us in pursuit of meaningless numbers on a conceptual spreadsheet, because you'll never see that extra money, it's just there, digitally, in some banker's mind, and you betrayed the most loving and loyal fan base in baseball. OK, yeah, we're a bunch of drunken shitheads, but we drink because we care... as opposed to the twirly, chin-stroking geekwads who attend Mariner games for the Costa Rican coffee and the baked squab.
You coulda beena lifelongYankee. You coulda beena Jeet. You coulda hadda CF plaque. You coulda had your own day, your own number, a TV gig, maybe even a ring. Geez, I hope you're happy.
Yeah, OK, I know what some readers are thinking. They're saying, "Ease up, Duque. You're in the fourth day of your drunk blog, you're hallucinating, and you shouldn't blame Robbie for chasing the money; he's just a poor boy from a poor family, spare him his life from this monstrocity..." Well, I say, humpity humph harumph! I'm drinking Scotch, folks, not electric Kool-Aid. This ingrate walked away from NY so Jay-Z, his fledgling "manager," could unveil to the world his beach ball testicles and put the biggest number on a contract, regardless of its actual impact on the player. But I'm not blaming Jay-Z. Playahs gonna play. You wanted a 10 year deal because it meant more money - nine years wasn't enough - and only the money mattered.
Well, good luck with all those Yankee Stadium home runs that die at the warning track in Seattle. And good luck playing in Seattle in that 10th year. I'm sure the hipsters are going to love you. I hope you like being doused with Costa Rican coffee. Go Rob Refsnyder.