Rejoice! The new year yet be salvagable!
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Randall D. Johnson, still chinless after 22 years, is hanging up his XXXL knee socks to wander for eternity in hell, known as Paradise Valley, Arizona. The hurler, hailed as the Ugliest Man in Sports, fell short by just one win of that benchmark total every pitcher longs for: 304. Randy quits with 303.
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From the day he stepped onto a baseball field, The Big Unique did one job perfectly: He screwed the Yankees.
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He basically ignored us in Montreal, then screwed us in Seattle, really screwed us in Arizona, and then fucking royally screwed us in New York. It didn't matter that he was not trying to fucking royally screw us: He just fucking royally screwed us. It was in his DNA.
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Look, I'm a kind-hearted Joe, as are all Yankee fans. I don't blaming Randy for what happened in New York. I blame old blind George, who saw those lips, those eyes, that beautiful face, and fell shit-the-bed in love. Blame the promoter for bringing King Kong to New York. Don't blame the monkey.
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He's gone. I wish him no ill. I hope he lives to be 100, has a growth spurt at 65 and dies in bed with two Rocketts sleeping piggyback. Best of luck, Unit.
Rejoice. The goon has finally left our cloud cover.
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2 comments:
Gone, my ass. He'll somehow wander into an old-timer's day and skull one off of Scott Brosius.
Am I the only one who thinks Randy Johnson is hot?
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