An obviously very buzzed but thoughtful Eric Wedge confidently strode into his press conference following the Indians’ 3-1 loss to the Red Sox Monday night and announced, “From henceforth, you will address me as Major T.J. Kong. Well, boys, we got three engines out, we got more holes in us than a horse trader’s mule, the radio is gone and we’re leaking fuel and if we was flying any lower why we’d need sleigh bells on this thing… but we got one little budge on them Rooskies. At this height why they might harpoon us but they dang sure ain’t gonna spot us on no radar screen!”
After ten full seconds of silence in which jaw dropped reporters looked on is disbelief, Wedge began muttering about the literacy rates in Northeast Ohio. “No one bothers to watch the classics anymore; this isn’t even a Twittering thing. How is anyone supposed to understand my beautiful metaphors if they have no background of the classics? You twits, that was pure comedy gold from Dr. Strangelove. Kong was Slim Pickens’ character who opens the malfunctioning bomb bay door over the target, then rides the bomb down. Get it? That is what I am doing here with this misfiring team. These numbnuts are getting me fired, so I am riding this out until the Apocalypse. 100 losses, here we come. We only have 87 more to go, although I am sure Shapiro will pull the plug on me before that. However, that just means I can watch the final glory from a beach with a little umbrella in my Jim Beam.
Look, I know I am going down, but I am taking some people with me. You win with the inconsistent Jhonny Peralta and the annual bullpen from Hell. Thanks to the loud, but not so competent Internet Statheads, I will never get a managing job again. For the record, my teams only significantly underperformed their Pythag one season, all the other years fall under statistical noise. Perhaps Internet Statheads should be required to take some sort of course on basic standard deviations before the pop off on their cute blogs.
Where are all those people who say I mishandled the Milton Bradley situation? Have they ween his warm and fuzzy start in Chicago. It isn’t even May yet, and he is the local media’s number one target. Asshole.
Yes, boys we’re headed for the big crash — you need to keep up with my keen literary references just like Casey Blake could/ Let’s try this one more time: Survival kit contents check. In them you’ll find: one forty-five caliber automatic; two boxes of ammunition; four days’ concentrated emergency rations; one drug issue containing antibiotics, morphine, vitamin pills, pep pills, sleeping pills, tranquilizer pills; one miniature combination Russian phrase book and Bible; one hundred dollars in rubles; one hundred dollars in gold; nine packs of chewing gum; one issue of prophylactics; three lipsticks; three pair of nylon stockings. Shoot, a fella’ could have a pretty good weekend in Vegas with all that stuff.”
Dead Religions 