Okay, so maybe Hal & Pal are not—quite—the moral equivalent of Tailgunner Joe McCarthy (Never to be confused with Marse Joe McCarthy). Or the current inhabitant of the Shambolic White House.
But really. How many damned MVPs does Aaron Judge have to win before our very own Nepo & Nemo put a decent team around the man?
Col. Ruppert, as cold-blooded an accented-German-American as ever was, this side of Trump's grandfather, not only brought The Babe to town, but surrounded him with Murderers' Row and the greatest baseball stadium ever built—all on his own dime!
Ed Barrow and George Weiss, a pair of gimlet-eyed, racist sharks...nonetheless built the world's greatest farm system, ever, to keep funneling the supporting talent to those other, three-time MVPs, Joe DiMaggio and Yogi Berra and Mickey Mantle.
Even Hal's daddy, not always the best judge of talent in the world, dug deep to give us Reggie Jackson, among others.
We got squaaaaat! As they sang in the greatest baseball musical ever made. Or something like that.
(By the way, technically, doesn't Katherine Hepburn have an asterisk next to those 4 Oscars? Didn't she tie, back in 1968 or so, with...Barbra Streisand???)
Well, they were dropping a lot of acid in the sixties.
Hal has no such excuse.
Get Judge a damned team. NOW.
You unsmiling, jumpy-eyed, kinky-booted, silver-spoon-mouthed putz.
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1 comment:
HaHaHa Hoss !
Here, Here !
(even the formatting was fun)
Enjoy your evening fellas.
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