1. Boston has fired the ferret.
After producing another failure for the team of destiny, the Red Sox nation has sobered up enough to dismiss manager Farrell, Ferrill, Ferile or Fair-isle.
Hee, hee, hee....you shall a failure be.
Surely, another cast-off from the Boston Diocese can be found to run this team of choir boys.
2. USMNT ( soccer ) brings an end to all interest in US men's soccer.
The worst day in the history of US soccer occurred last night in either Trinidad or Tobago. These countries, with a combined population of 3 million, soundly defeated the US, a nation with a combined population of 300 million ( or so ).
T&T had nothing to lose. They were already eliminated from any chance at earning a spot to the 2018 World Cup. They were the worst team in the entire inventory of teams competing for spots in Russia.
Remember every player on this USMNT team. Put the list of names on your wall. Throw stuff at it. Never hire anyone whose name appears. It is like the Black Sox of baseball infamy, except only incompetence and lack of heart were involved, not game fixing, or gambling ( as far as we know).
We do have one teenager who gets an exemption. Hi name is Pusilic or Pulisic ( who can remember in this blur of talentless players?), and he is the one world class player the US has managed to develop in the last 20 years, despite spending billions on the program.
This USMNT proved that they are not of World Cup quality. If 64 teams are invited, the USA is in the 70-90 range. Not worth a look. Not worth going to a game or buying a jersey, except for those of us who value dark humor.
For those sports caster who frame this defeat as an upset; it wasn't. What they won't say is that the USMNT stinks. They are not worthy of TV coverage.
Just to add to the humiliation; if you watched the game, you noted that about 2800 people attended, and it is my guess that no one had to purchase a ticket. We used to get more people at high school football games. This was like watching an independent league baseball game between two teams in last place, held in an old cow pasture in Rolf, Iowa.
3. California is burning.
Mostly up in wine country, for now. Fire and Storms are getting worse.
4. Jeter is dismantling Yankee organization.
Note to file: Derek, don't forget to bring Cashman and Girardi with you to Florida.
5. Harvey Weinstein's wife is leaving him.
As allegations of rape abuse and other forms of sexual misconduct against him mount, his loving wife is bolting from the sewer.
Ben Affleck, whose movie career was made by Harvey and his cronies, has been accused by a prominent actress of knowing what Harvey was doing, but lying about the truth. A cover up. Just like he learned to do in the Boston Diocese, where he was nurtured and became a Red Sox fan.
Red sox nation. Abuse and sexual misconduct. Cover up.
See a pattern here?
6. Game 5 tonight.
Wednesday, October 11, 2017
Major Headlines of the Day
Posted by
Alphonso
at
12:27 PM
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27 comments:
Wow...you are full of good news Alphonso. I should be headed to the medicine, I mean liquor cabinet right about now....
all I see nowadays are kids playing fucking soccer. they don't play baseball any more. Football programs are going downhill in communities that actually educate kids. These are on-going trends.
with all this soccer playing from grade school to college, we can't even field a half way competent team for the World Cup? WTF is wrong with this country? I blame the iPhone and its copycat wannabes.
It's weird that the Sox are jettisoning Farrell now since he's under contract through 2018. It's also weird that they said their search will start immediately.
While I applaud their determination and resolve, I question the wisdom of getting rid of a known quantity who has guided you to back to back Division title and the 2013 World Series without having his replacement identified. Other than wanting to appear to be responsive following a key loss, what's the upside of doing this *now*?
I suspect that Dombrowski must have someone already in mind (e.g., his buddy Ausmus from Detroit) but only time will tell. Jeez, if they promote Varitek, I will question everyone's wisdom up there.
"Only time will tell." ALL CAPS has a new competitor in the Cliche Olympics.
Admit it--there have been times over the past five years when you've looked across the diamond to the opposite dugout and thought to yourself, "I'd rather have that guy managing the Yankees than Girardi." That daydream has probably been triggered by images of Showalter, Francona, Hinch, and . . . John Farrell. Here's your chance, Yankee fans. Go ahead . . . go for it. You know you want him.
The Boston Herald--admittedly not the best source--blames the Farrell firing on David 'The Diva' Price, who was pissed to be pitching in a postseason relief role. If true, we can rejoice; Price's example could poison the young team for a long time to come.
"Only time will tell." ALL CAPS has a new competitor in the Cliche Olympics.
Waaaah (sniff, sniff).
I like to make sabermetrically correct posts. I'm a gentleman. I invite people to engage me in a debate of the issues. (sniff-sniff-sniff)
But all the bad boys who don't read newspapers pick on me. Waaaaah. They can't even read anyway and need a 4th Grade-level thesaurus. Waaaaah. (snuffle)
And Duque is as guilty of all of them for not telling them to stop picking on me. He's just as bad! He is! Waaaaaaaaah.
Now I'm just going to lash out and insult everyone and tell them they're morons. They make me so mad, I'm going to tell them all they have tiny peenies! I'm going to say they use cliches. That'll show 'em. Waaaah.
I wish all the other boys would talk sabermetrics with me. Even though I can be a condescending asshole sometimes, I always try to be polite. My mom knows I'm polite. I always say "thank you" when she warms up a Hot Pocket just the way I like and brings it to me down here in the basement. (sniff)
I wish the other boys weren't so mean. (sniff sniff sniff)
Waaaah.
Wow--the Cliche-o-Matic has a psychotically think skin. Someone dial 911. Will LBJ be frothing in a straitjacket by the end of the day? ONLY TIME WILL TELL!!!!
The Boston Herald--admittedly not the best source--blames the Farrell firing on David 'The Diva' Price, who was pissed to be pitching in a postseason relief role. If true, we can rejoice; Price's example could poison the young team for a long time to come.
If that's true, this will be the third time that the divas in the clubhouse have gotten the manager fired and/or themselves traded.
There are still some on the team who were there when one of their teammates texted the owner to outline the issues the players were having with the manager. These same guys were also there when some of their teammates sat in the dugout and drank beer during the games they weren't pitching. That only cost Terry Francona -- the guy who had won two World Series with them -- his job.
Here's hoping that the Sox clubhouse's culture -- if not DNA -- remains screwed up for years to come.
Sassy anon, you will never get LBJ's goat. I mean, just look at that face. Does this look like a man that gives a rat's ass what others may think? It's a face only his mother could love. Oh, and your mother too but that's a story for a different blog. Duque likes to keep things tidy around here.
Now, back to your New England basement to dream of the 2018 redsock HOF SuperTeam of Destiny. We Yankee fans have a game to watch tonight.
"These same guys were also there when some of their teammates sat in the dugout and drank beer during the games they weren't pitching."
CONTEST: The first commenter who correctly analyzes the mangled syntax of this so-called sentence wins an "ONLY TIME WILL TELL" T-shirt. Please specify size when submitting your analysis.
Wow--the Cliche-o-Matic has a psychotically think skin. Someone dial 911.
I'll be at the Algonquin by game time, Mrs. Parker. Order me a Rob Roy.
"I'll be at the Algonquin by game time, Mrs. Parker. Order me a Rob Roy."
At game time you'll be falling off your stool at the Blarney Rock, into a pool of your own vomit.
Hey 'Stang, if Sassy Anon has your number, be sure to have your drinking companion snap a photo for us.
It would be funny if, after this season, The Yanks hire John Farrell, the Marlins hire Joe Girardi and the Red Sox hire Don Mattingly. You can't predict baseball Suzyn.
Soccer is America's game of the future, and always will be.
Yeah, Farrell sure did a crappy job, sending his best pitcher out there to get knocked around the park in game one, and then ditto for his second best pitcher in game two.
He also deserves to be fired for having kicked in Nuni's knee before the first game, then replacing him with a guy who hit about .600.
Also, he deserves blame for Kung Fu Panda's sudden demise, and the national debt.
Hey Mustang,
I love the Algonquin for drinking and reflecting about the great literary circles, led by Dorothy Parker. They still have wing back chairs and little bells to ring, when your glass nears empty.
However, in the main lobby ( the den of sophisticated drinking) there is no TV.
You have to go into the adjoining bar for that.
And they might want to show old Bogart flicks, so have your arguments ready.
A perfect spot for managing tonight's chat room, I am certain. Is Duque in attendance?
Alphonso,
Duque and I have returned to the land of salt potatoes and Utica Club. But you and I must meet at the Algonquin one day.
The Algonquin? Dorothy Parker? Bogart? How appropriate for a blog dedicated to John Sterling. His range of cultural references ends somewhere around 1961 ("Bye Bye Birdie" is as contemporary as he gets), whereas Mustang's extends no further than 1940. No wonder so many commenters here are confounded by advanced baseball analysis--the Rolling Stones and the Beatles and hula-hoops are probably news to you guys as well. Whatever happened to REAL music like Glenn Miller and Frankie Laine, and baseball sages like Larry McPhail, who found his analytics swirling at the bottom of a bottle of Jim Beam? Those great old days, when Hollywood moguls could gobble all the pussy they wanted without a gaggle of joyless puritanical feminists nipping a their heels. And what's all this business about infield shifts? And racial equality? And homos getting married? Another bottle of Jack Daniel, boy, and be quick about it. . . .
Bogart at the Round Table, pally?
Hmm, didn't think you knew beans about anything beyond a stats table, and now you confirm it.
You know who WAS at the Round Table, skeezix? (Skeezix, a character from the comic strip, "Gasoline Alley." Just helping with your education.)
"FPA" was there. Tell me quick, without looking it up, just who he was and what he had to do with baseball. Hint: it had nothing to do with the number of balls in play that hit the pitching rubber, or the velocity of submarine pitches that struck batters on the upper thighbone.
C'mon. We're all waiting, Evil Anonymous Buck.
Oh, yeah. Got the juices running for the big game tonight!!
Hey, did anybody hear something? Some music, maybe?
"We're so happy that we're hummin'
Hmm-hmm-hmm"
And words, too. That's strange...
"That's the hearty thing to do
Ho-ho-ho"
Yes. Yes, I did hear that...
YOU GOTTA HAVE HEART!
All you really need is heart
When the odds are sayin' you'll never win
That's when the grin should start
YOU GOTTA HAVE HOPE!
Mustn't sit around and mope
Nothin's half as bad as it may appear
THIS is our year (we hope)
When your luck is battin' zero
Get your chin up off the floor
Mister you can be a hero
You can open any door, there's nothin' to it but to do it
YOU GOTTA HAVE HEART!!!!
Hey Dumbass HoraceClarke66, who writes about as well as the original Horace Clarke played baseball: It was Alphonso who first mentioned Bogart--I was referring to his prior post. What's a matter? Cataracts? Glaucoma? ATD?
You're SO PROUD that you know who Franklin Pierce Adams was. I'm glad to see that your antiquarian tastes conform to those of The Master, albeit even deeper into the wormhole of irrelevancy.
You and your fellow aging churls are walking, babbling anachronisms. Instead of administering trivial-pursuit quizzes about FPA, you should be learning about BABIP, UZR, and wRC+.
Or you can continue to slobber all over yourself in Plato's cave. Quick--without looking it up, what was the significance of Plato's cave, and why are you afraid to leave it?
Oh, I get it. You're saying that you are the prisoner who was shown the light and now you're mystified by all of us who are content to remain in darkness.
That's just what we were thinking, too.
Please pardon our ignorance.
Right, then.
Walked by the dumb-ass duck boats yesterday. Dumpy guy in a too tight RS jersey showing his muffin top (what I visualize pedo anon looks like) on the mic, saying "go sox". Guess he didn't get the memo. Probably doesn't put cover sheets on his TPS reports either.
I wouldn't leave the cave because there might be dinosaurs out there.
Soccer is as boring to watch as bowling
I'm glad the US got eliminated so I won't be swamped with coverage of that crap whenever that tournament gets played
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