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Welcome back ladies, fish, and gentlemen. My sincere apologies to the lads in Blue Oyster Cult for bastardizing they�re lyric there. What?! You�ve never heard of BOC. Well, BOC or DIE I say it is for you! Have enough pride to take your own losing, vapid life scumsucker! Or, at least go out and buy their double �live� CD, �On Your Feet�.Or On Your Knees!�.
Anyway, this week�s little missive is on �Violence in Sports�. Guess what? I am all for it! On the field/ice and in the stands. What�s this got to do with football? Well, in case you didn�t notice, football is a pretty violent sport!
Many people were shocked and horrified by last week�s handicap tag team match in which a father and son team ran out on the field at Comiskey Park and proceeded to do a hurt dance on the Royals 1B Coach. Some people say it was senseless. I say those people only look at the superficial evidence. I, being Uncle Robs, go beyond that. For instance, I found out that the father and son are long-suffering Royals fans. Do you know that the Royals haven�t won a division title since 1985? No? Look it up then, Gnu gonad! It�s the longest goddamn streak in MLB. Consider this: the kid wouldn�t be born for 2 years since that last division title! That�s fucking incredible. Want more? The Royals haven�t had a goddamn winning season since Fred Patek stopped crapping green! Look it up, Wildebeest Wang! Their futility streak is almost as bad as the Phils and worse than the Pirates (who haven�t had a winning season in 10 years now). I�m only surprised it didn�t happen before this!
If ever there was a screaming candidate for contraction, the Royals are it. The father and son just decided to start the ball rolling by contracting that dope Gamboa�s (or however you spell it) windpipe. He said he didn�t do anything to piss them off. He said, and I�m almost quoting verbatim here, �I never even acknowledge the fans�. Well, Einstein, then you got what you deserved. Blow off the fans that pay the money to keep you suckling on the teat of society and I say your fair game for a goddamn bloodhunt. Furthermore, the sonofabitch should have been ready for an assault. I mean, exactly what function does a 1B-coach serve anyway? Same with a Bench Coach. And, bullpen coach. What kinda jobs are those? Goddamn it, what do they produce?! Nothing. All they do is drink like fish, eat like pigs, and belch and fart a lot. Don�t believe me? Look at that buttnut, Don Zimmer. Nice work if you can get it. Unfortunately, the rest of us gotta bust our asses to earn the bucks to keep those idiots fat and happy. If the 1B Coach sonofabitch knew what he was doing and had his head on a goddamn swivel (like Uncle Robs), he would have caught both of them in the throat with a foreign object (like a stopwatch � kinda like George �The Animal� Steele) faster than you can say Steve Busby.
I got news for all professional athletes, their coaches, and supporting staff: people are paying premium dollars for what you produce. They have every right to expect premium quality. And, if they don�t get it, they should kick your goddamn asses. Hard. Repeatedly. My hockey tickets now cost $85 per seat per game. That�s a Grant, a Jackson, a Hamilton, and a Lincoln for you bastards unfamiliar with U.S. Currency (You know who you are, Al KyDuh!). You think Grant would settle for anything less than complete victory. Hell no! His goddamn nickname was �Unconditional Surrender�. Grant would have put his cigar out in the coach�s eye and then bashed his freakin� head in with a whiskey bottle. Why? Because that�s just the kind of guy he was. Even-tempered. So, anyway, for the kinda money I�m forking, I have every goddamn right to expect them to win every game (if not romp in doing so). And, I should be allowed to bring a high-powered rifle in to shoot their collective asses if they fail to perform. Really.
This incident shoulda been a wakeup call to everyone involved in professional sports. Either get off your ass and perform to a level worthy of what you�re charging, or lower the goddamn prices, or expect dire consequences. In the immortal words of Al �Molly� Maguire, �Life isn�t all seashells and balloons, ya freaks!�
Oh yeah, and the father had �Willie Mays Aikens� as one of his jailhouse tats. Must�ve been one of Willie�s cellmates�
Till next week, live by these words: Don�t eat yellow snow. Don�t go where the huskies go.
The Unc