It's a Freak Schoe--Spanked by the Yanks
Tyler Clippard sends his regards. Sweet dreams.
That pitcher was one ugly dude, that's what the picture means, OK? Espn (which i will not speak of again) close-ups revealed that Clippard was either coming off a 3 yr. steroid bender, or just narrowly survived puberty. Ugly or not, the Yanks rook decidedly did not know his place and, with a little help from his devastating curveball and his friend the umpire, he clipped the Mets sweep dreams. I wonder if he dedicated his win to new media darling and performance enhancement doyen Jason Giambi, who has to be MLB history's most celebrated non-confessor.
Virtually unaccosted by the Mets top of the order, the Yankme Clipper sailed through 6 innings, especially when the Mets let him off the hook and out of a drunken sack situation in the early goings. Clipboard flat out abused Jose Reyes, who flailed away on an 0 fer 4, leaving the pinata of 5 men on base dangling without extracting any candy whatsoever. No, no candy for you. The Mets starter was Mainely done in by a souless-Johnny Traitor blooper that fell in front of the Bad Shawn Green, who patrols rightfield like the LAPD patrols South Central, showing up only when a brutal beating is about to commence. While there were questions after the game as to why Green continues to play too deep, no one dare ask why he doesn't try using his hat to make catches. Or maybe just use a really big glove. Long story short, Maine and the pen then gave up homeruns to every known Met enemy not named Jones, Molina or Burrell. Clipart then finished his dirty deeds in the 6th by vicously doubling off persona-non-Meta Scott Schoeneweis, about whom we shall say a few words presently.
The coping mechanism of inventing elaborate nicknames for "Freak" Schoeneweis aside, there is little that is amusing in the realization that the pitcher Omar invested so much dough in is thus far a no-Show. It does not amuse me to see the pitching equivilant of a white flag raised by the Sterling Inc. powers that be, especially not on the day before an off-day, when I must stew and rue the results of a Met loss. I think Torre may well have called in a favor from his Eat Fresh buddy and will leave it at that. No matter, we have taken 2 out of 3 and some of their dignity, and the Klansmen are up next, so no dwelling on this loss.
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I thought some time ago of the idea of having a pledge drive, not for money, just for comments. That's right, the comment section is looking a bit like the Coalition of the Willing these days, a graveyard that is only nominally what it pretends to be. I gave up on the pledge rive idea as too juvenille and needy, even for the low standards I have established here, and turned my hopeful gaze to a second idea. I would turn itsmetsforme into a pay porn site! But alas, I am told that the type of filth I planned to offer is not legal, and punishable by death in some states. Plus, then what would I fill Jose's column with?
Of course there are some stalwart souls, blindingly intelligent, most likely extremely attractive to the members of the sex that they pursue, and well-bred, that will leave commentary from time to time. But is it fair to leave the task of commenting to these captains of industry, fair to ask these champions of the downtrodden to take that much more time out of their days just so you can free ride on this humble blog's meager entertainment offerings? Is it fair to ask these ubermenches and menchettes to look away from promoting nuclear non-proliferation, solving world hunger, and ending male pattern baldness, all because you don't have the time to pass a simple comment verification test and say a little "hello"? No, gentle reader, I submit to you it is not.
I briefly considered a hunger strike, but oh that would make you happy wouldn't it, you non-commentators? More food for you! No, I'm still wrestling with what threats to make. But I will be making them if you don't make a comment right now. Stay tuned.