A New Feature for a New Blog: In the Line of Fire
I just finished reading Tribune writer Dave van Dyck's piece today about Scott Podsednik's wordy self-flagellation when I started to think of just how often I (and other) White Sox fans wished he'd gone thru the wall in Boston's Big Green Monster a la Manny Rameriz only with Pods never to return. (It is a "Monster;" it has to eat something. Why not Pods?) Shaky early defense (since the first month of the season he's been better), losing a step in his jump on steals and forgetting how to bunt for hits will not endear him to any fans (unless they be Flubs or Twinkie fans), especially coming off a season where everything else in the White Sox world went right. I even stooped to calling him names like Nudnik (kudos, winningugly), Puds, Pod-suck-nik, etc. The target on his back was so big that Hellen Keller could have hit it in the blind of the night wearing sunglassess. Pods, to his credit, placed the blame squarely on his own shoulders for his struggles.
What say you, White Sox fans, to Pods' mea culpa?
So the fuck what!
Are we supposed to feel better that you suck and you know you suck? Should we pat you on the back for recognizing what any retarded six year-old girl could see? Should I ask for naked pictures of your wife to help ease the pain your play has caused my eyes? (Wait, I can find those anywhere on the intraweb thingy.)
Hell no, and for that, you are now in what I am gonna call from here on out Fleece & Flog's "In the Line of Fire".
Let me explain.
Over at Chi-Sox Blog, fed up with what I considered subpar pitching by a certain White Sox southpaw, I started a continuous rant called the Buehrle Bile File where I would verbally assault, hassle and harrass one Mark Buehrle before and after each of his starts. Regardless of whether or not he pitched well, something would always "burn my britches" about his performance. He's been called a devil, a traitor, a foul body fluid and myriad other monikers describing his pitching. This Buehrle Bile File had only one antagonist however.
In the grand tradition of the Buehrle Bile File, ESPNradio's, Mike & Mike's "Just Shut Up" spot and countless other "dickhead of the week" awards, I'm instituting the first ever Fleece & Flog: In the Line of Fire.
It's much easier to write about things that are bad, or about how things went wrong, or about morons who just can't help themselves by continuing to do moronic things. In the Line of Fire will be pleased to point out these future Darwin Award winners and the special place they hold in the Chicago sports scene.
The way I look at it, there are six professional sports leagues if you include college hoops and football. (And why not call those college sports pro leagues? Reggie Bush and family just made over $100,000 by choosing to attend USC.) (By the way, even though they have a cute little stadium one town over, doesn't mean the Fire actually qualify as a professional sport. You have to play something Americans actually care about to count. So sorry, Fire. Maybe Santa Claus can bring you some respect for Christmas next year.) Only one team in each sport is crowned the champion, and in the annals of sports history, has any one U.S. geographic region held even 3 of the 4 overtly pro titles? Hardly. So at the very least one of our Chicago teams is gonna suck balls, and picking on people when they're down is so much easier than plastering on a fake smiley face. (Actually, this has a built-in summer feature since the Flubs almost always suck anyways.)
And you know what? This is my blog, so I can do as I please.
So take note, underachievers, you may be next In the Line of Fire.
And while I may rule this blog like a one-eyed fascist, I will take suggestions from time to time for the weekly installment of In the Line of Fire. Just drop it in the comments during the week, and I'll check it out. Then I'll either ban you from ever commenting again, or I'll let you go about your merry little business.
What say you, White Sox fans, to Pods' mea culpa?
So the fuck what!
Are we supposed to feel better that you suck and you know you suck? Should we pat you on the back for recognizing what any retarded six year-old girl could see? Should I ask for naked pictures of your wife to help ease the pain your play has caused my eyes? (Wait, I can find those anywhere on the intraweb thingy.)
Hell no, and for that, you are now in what I am gonna call from here on out Fleece & Flog's "In the Line of Fire".
Let me explain.
Over at Chi-Sox Blog, fed up with what I considered subpar pitching by a certain White Sox southpaw, I started a continuous rant called the Buehrle Bile File where I would verbally assault, hassle and harrass one Mark Buehrle before and after each of his starts. Regardless of whether or not he pitched well, something would always "burn my britches" about his performance. He's been called a devil, a traitor, a foul body fluid and myriad other monikers describing his pitching. This Buehrle Bile File had only one antagonist however.
In the grand tradition of the Buehrle Bile File, ESPNradio's, Mike & Mike's "Just Shut Up" spot and countless other "dickhead of the week" awards, I'm instituting the first ever Fleece & Flog: In the Line of Fire.
It's much easier to write about things that are bad, or about how things went wrong, or about morons who just can't help themselves by continuing to do moronic things. In the Line of Fire will be pleased to point out these future Darwin Award winners and the special place they hold in the Chicago sports scene.
The way I look at it, there are six professional sports leagues if you include college hoops and football. (And why not call those college sports pro leagues? Reggie Bush and family just made over $100,000 by choosing to attend USC.) (By the way, even though they have a cute little stadium one town over, doesn't mean the Fire actually qualify as a professional sport. You have to play something Americans actually care about to count. So sorry, Fire. Maybe Santa Claus can bring you some respect for Christmas next year.) Only one team in each sport is crowned the champion, and in the annals of sports history, has any one U.S. geographic region held even 3 of the 4 overtly pro titles? Hardly. So at the very least one of our Chicago teams is gonna suck balls, and picking on people when they're down is so much easier than plastering on a fake smiley face. (Actually, this has a built-in summer feature since the Flubs almost always suck anyways.)
And you know what? This is my blog, so I can do as I please.
So take note, underachievers, you may be next In the Line of Fire.
And while I may rule this blog like a one-eyed fascist, I will take suggestions from time to time for the weekly installment of In the Line of Fire. Just drop it in the comments during the week, and I'll check it out. Then I'll either ban you from ever commenting again, or I'll let you go about your merry little business.
posted by jamesmnordbergjr at 5:17 PM
10 Comments:
Pods has one skill. That's the ability to perform well enough to warrant more playing time from overly-faithful managers. On the PotG leaderboard, he's in 8th place, but there's no way in hell I would rank him as the 8th most valuable player on the Sox.
The only self-flagellation I am in favor of is Mackowiak's insistence that he is a terrible CF. Too bad Ozzie's skull is covered by too thick of a layer of gel for that info to penetrate.
I'll let the dig at soccer slide, because after all the MLS should stand for Minor League Soccer until further notice, but I will say there's nothing like watching a soccer match in a British Pub. Sure you'll smell like ash and liquor, so basically the smell of Tara Reid or Lindsay Lohan, but it's one helluva time.
So what you're saying is that watching futbol in a British Pub is kinda like watching a Bears game at a bar?
Hell, I smell like that 3 or more times a week!
Well, yes, but the fans are much more passionate and there are some really good drinking songs to take your mind of a losing effort...like the one about Young Johnny and all the ways that he died. There were some Irish folk who singing this one and I joined in right before Johnny was getting run over by a train.
I wouldn't have a clue about what you're talking about if I didn't just see Green Street Hooligans. And were I 5 years younger, I might consider it a worthy endeavor, but now it's just an excuse to miss work and softball.
Can you honesty name one Fire player? Besides Zack Thorton and Anton Razov? (Yikes! How the fuck did I know that?)
;-)
What's this blasphemy coming out of your mouth?
Well the question is, do you want me to name current or past players?
From the glory days, we can throw in Hristo Stoichkov, Damarcus Beasley and his older but crappier bro Jamar, Ante Razov, Josh Wolff, Peter Nowak, etc.
Or we can go current players, Jim and Jeff Curtin, Diego Gutierrez, Nate Jaqua, Andy Herron.
Or players that span both groups. CJ Brown, Zach Thornton.
And I don't even consider myself that big of a Fire fan, now that I've discovered European Soccer.
Where's my IGNORE button when I need it? Commenting on soccer, WTF!
Our Bridgeview Soccer player readers will just love you, Jeeves.
By the way, you didn't come back from England with a few black eyes and broken bones, did you?
Yes, I think tonight will be the extent of my soccer rants, unless the Fire win the US Cup, which may warrant a comment, not necessarily a post since I realize soccer readership isn't all that great.
What the fuck is soccer?
I noticed you got a mention on deadspin. Do you have to submit posts to them or do they find your post on their own?
You don't know, Jeeves?
Shameless self promotion!
I emailed Will about it, and he linked it.
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