"Hell may have no fury like a woman scorned but heaven hath no sweetness like a sports fan vindicated." - Samcat

Wednesday, April 27, 2005

The Talk



That's right, boys, we need to talk. Why don't you pull up a chair? No, it's okay, come closer, I won't bite. Actually, you're right, you might want to remain standing. I'm just sayin' I'm not a runner by nature but you light a fire under me, like perhaps the FIRE OF A THOUSAND BURNING SUNS THAT BLOWING A FIVE-RUN LEAD TO BALTIMORE incites and I just might hunt down your asses and whip y'all good.

You see this ice behind me, boys? This is the ice in my soul. My soul is frozen. My soul is frozen with the potential love for you that's just waiting to be thawed and brought forth. But no, you don't want me to love you. So you continue sucking so hard you've actually created Red Sox-shaped vaccumms which, while not actually useful for fielding ground balls, are, in fact, keeping the infield nice and tidy.

Billy Mueller, you're the only one exempt from my wrath right now because I'm just tickled pink to see you're walking upright and not, you know, dead from the Bubonic plague or some rare strain of the Ebola virus. Also, RBIs. A few RBIs and a girl can forgive many things.

What I cannot forgive is WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, KEITH FOULKE! Seriously? The fuck? Two 2-run homeruns? Two? Are you fucking kidding me? Look what you've done, you've made me resort to repetition of the word "fuck" and use it in nearly every part of speech. I'm an editor, Keith. Words are my thing. And you leave me speechless. And not in a good way.

Kevin, I'm glad you're having babies tomorrow and I do truly wish you all the best with that but for the love of all that is good and holy, please do not DROP THEM! I've noticed you sometimes have problems with this.

Boys, are we not having fun right now? Is that the problem? Do we miss O-Cab and D-Lowe and Pedro and Pokey and Dave Roberts? I miss them too, guys but they ain't coming back. Except maybe Dave Roberts who I'm totally kidnapping. I think we need more manlove, boys. We need more hugging and feeding of applesauce to each other. We need more shenanigans and tomfoolery. Some ballyhoo, even. You all need to start engaging in acts that will make Tek and Billy look at you disapprovingly. Really, start the love now. I miss the love.

Boys, I want to love you all the time, day and night. I don't want it to hurt anymore. We can't break up, we've been through too much. There's too much history here. But you need to know I'm hurting. I hurt because I LOVE TOO MUCH! You need to start returning some of that love.

That up there *gestures upwards* is my concerned face. Trust me, you don't want to see the sad one. Let's get it together boys. Let's play like men. Or, better yet, let's play like guys who realize how fucking lucky they are to be playing baseball for a living.

I'm in for the long haul, boys, you know that. But you need to start earning my love. Sigh.

Yours...for better or for worse,
Kristen