Monday, October 29, 2012

Mark Fidrych Was A Funny Guy Who Probably Died Too Soon

I scarcely remember Mark Fidrych's phenomenal rookie season in 1976 where he went 19-9 and won the American league rookie of the year award. I remember traces of seeing him go through his eccentric mound routines and fix the mound on This Week In Baseball. What I remember better is his death in 2009 and how it prompted so many What If and lost potential reactions. Mark Fidrych never again achieved the levels of greatness he did in his rookie year, and that puts him in a special class of players who never realized their potential in the major leagues. 

With his eccentric antics, curly locks, and fastball, Mark Fidrych baffled American league batters for one summer.  But enduring fame eluded him.


I remember Bob Horner a little better probably because I'm a Cub's fan and he played in the National league. I seem to remember him hitting 33 home runs his rookie year, then never playing again, but a look at the statistics disprove this. Horner did actually play several seasons with the Atlanta Braves, clouting a rather respectable amount of home runs every year, but injuries hampered him and ultimately ended a career that seemed to hold much more promise. 

Why is Bo Jackson in this baseball blog? Because as well as having a football career cut short by injury, the same hip injury robbed baseball fans of what might have been one of the great baseball careers of all time. Actually if he hadn't hurt his hip he probably would have had one of the great football careers of all time. I don't think I've ever seen a greater athlete than Bo Jackson. Have you?









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Kenny Britt Licks Scrote

If you're one of the last holdouts waiting for Kenny Britt to evolve into a real human being then this is for you...

You lick scrote, Kenny Britt.

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Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Four Horror Movie Commercials That Scared Me Shitless As a Child

Like most of you, the television never was turned off in our house when I was a child. And even though we didn't have cable television and whatever movies that were shown on the Late Late Show were rather tame compared to what children have access to these days, some of the most traumatizing images I saw as a child were in commercials for horror movies. Here are four that haunted me for many years.



Suspiria 

It seems like for months on end I'd see this commercial would come on and freeze in terror. When the woman turns around and her face is a skull that traumatized me. And I mean that sincerely. 




It's Alive

I see that this movie was made in 1974, so I was five when these tv spots would have been running. But I saw them. And they terrorized me. I don't think I've seen the movie. One night I saw some ridiculous installment in the sequel series, but the shock of it all had been reduced to a comical punchline. 


Schizo

This 1976 movie was released with the title Amok, and I can't remember what it was that gave me the chills about the television commercial, I just remember it did. Another movie I refuse to watch. It's already done enough to me. 



The Exorcist

1973. Really? On television? Thanks, mom. My parents do have a semi-defense, however, in that there were no remote controls in those days. In fact, I WAS the remote control, and good luck getting me to get anywhere close to the television screen when I saw this. 
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Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Titivillus, The Mortal Enemy of Printers, Editors, Typesetters, and Scribes

Most of Christian folklore doesn't have much resonance in my life. But as I walked to the general store for honey for my Earl Gray tea tonight I realized there is one figure that was created to terrify and keep in line medieval scribes that has also been a hobgoblin in my life, and that is Titivillus, better known as The Printer's Devil. My independent literary press, Zombie Logic Press, has been publishing children's books and books of poetry since 1997. As editor of ZLP I design, edit, and supervise the publication of all of our books. Sometimes I spend months with a manuscript combing it over to find the perfect font, trying to cull out grammatical and spelling errors, and just trying to make it as aesthetically pleasing to look at on the page as I can make it. I do this rather well and have even been asked to do it for others. But perhaps if they knew what I was about to confess I would never entrusted with a manuscript again. In every book I have ever edited, no matter how long I have painstakingly labored over it with hunched shoulders and squinty eyes, I have always found a single editing error in the finished book. One lonely error, but enough to call into question my ability as an editor. Sometimes I see it right away when I hold that first book out of the crate in my hands, other times I notice much later, but it's always there to haunt me. Sometimes I swear it just isn't possible after having read these words dozens, maybe hundreds of times that I could have missed something this obvious. Which is why I tend to believe this demonic entity is more than a creature of medieval folklore, but a real entity and the enemy of all printers, editors, typesetters, and scribes...



Titivillus. The Printer's Devil.


Titivillus, an underling of the horrific demon Belphegor, was said to be responsible for maliciously introducing errors into the work of scribes. But his motivation was said to be pure: to remind scribes to be ever vigilant and concentrate on what they were doing. Also under his purview was recording the idle gossip and chatter of churchgoers so he could report it to his superiors and ensure the guilty would be punished. Not only was he a gremlin saboteur, but a lowly snitch. In medieval times Titivillus was used as a method to teach moral lessons such as remaining respectful in church and staying diligent in one's pious tasks.


But sacred records indicate Titivillus, or an equivalent entity, was active in Egyptian culture, and even the Babylonian culture before that. In these cultures Titivillus performed much the same function, bedeviling scribes and recording the the sins of those who dared transgress in holy places. 

Titivillus eventually petered out as a figure taken seriously in the church, but by this time had made his way into the world of literature as his own character. And to this day we can all identify with returning to some long labored over piece of writing we are proud of and considered finished only to find an error that seems to have appeared from nowhere. Is it a lapse in concentration or The Printer's Devil that causes these blemishes on our masterpieces? The world may never know.

Illustration by Jenny Mathews
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Friday, October 19, 2012

Top Ten Halloween Movies You Can Watch With Your Kids

Horror movies are chock full of life lessons, and that's why Halloween is an opportune time to assemble the kids in front of the old television and allow them to soak up the moral instruction they can only get from watching a horde of zombies devour the entrails of an unfortunate soul who has provisioned himself poorly for the Zombie Apocalypse.

10) Dawn of the Dead 
Things aren't all that important. Blind consumerism can lead us to be exposed to ultimate dissatisfaction and a hollow feeling when we discover the most important things in life aren't things, they're practical effects like this exploding head.


9) Day of the Dead
Communication is important. You can't just yell at the top of your lungs all the time like Captain Rhodes. Everyone has feelings, even zombies. Be polite, and include everyone in discussions, let everyone have their say, and make decisions based on input from everyone. Or you might get shot and then have your small intestine yanked out and devoured.


8) The Omen
It doesn't pay to discount the possibility that evil exists and exists in a real and tangible way. Kids can be nasty little sons-a-bitches, even your own. Glass can kill, vertically or horizontally. Take the stairs sometimes. And never buy your child a tricycle. 


7) Night of the Living Dead
Let your sister have the remote control, for chrissake. Quit teasing her about her pigtails because if you don't some freak will shamble out of the shadows and crack your godamn coconut on a gravestone, so just cut it the hell out. 


6) Alien
Did someone resembling me tell you not to eat that whole bag of Sour Patch Kids before bed? I think they did.


5) The Exorcist
Your mom might be wrong occasionally like when she told me I'm not an awesome dancer, but if you ever decide to check her into a nursing home after I die so you can get at that sweet porn stash you know I'm hiding right in front of her eyes in the laundry room you do so at your own risk. 


4) Rosemary's Baby
Don't have sex with anyone, ever, for any reason, especially Satan. He's not going to call you back.


3) The Shining
Seriously, kids, it was just some bad clams. I'm over it now. 


2) Halloween
What did I tell you about stabbing your sister with my good kitchen knife? Who do you think cleans these things up, the Keebler faeries?


1) It's The Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown
This one actually contains the scariest message of all. Find some schlubby kid with low self-esteem and scapegoat him for any problem that arises. Really, kick the shit out of him and make sure he knows you think he's useless, worthless, and to blame for all your problems. Then when the problem is solve deus ex machina dance like crack-addled freakoids and pretend none of it ever happened.











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Pictures Of Greenwood Cemetery

Greenwood Cemetery seems like a welcoming place. 



Nice trees


The stairs are a little tricky, but you'll feel happier when you get to the top.


Eventually you'll go to Greenwood Cemetery. I'll see you there.




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Thursday, October 18, 2012

Please Sign A Rod Kenny Williams

The Yankees are supposedly willing to do anything they have to to get Alex Rodriguez out of town and onto someone else's squad. Only a GM who hasn't read the accounts of the Trojan Horse would fall for such a trick. But one local team whose fan base seems to like the idea is the Chicago White Sox. I hate the Chicago White Sox. No, that's not fair, I actually kind of like how Kenny Williams has assembled the team. I liked the  Ozzie years. I even like the radio team of Ed Farmer and Darren Jackson. I'll go a step further and admit they have the best announcer in baseball in Steve Stone. 

But I despise White Sox fans. And I hate Hawk Harrelson. My dislike is better explained here. I hope the White Sox do commit a great deal of money to sign Alex Rodriguez.It might sound a little bit like this line from the movie Moneyball...

Billy Beane: Oh, you're special?
David Justice: You pay me seven million bucks a year, man. So, yeah. Maybe I am a little bit.
Billy Beane: No, man. I ain't paying you seven. Yankee's are paying half your salary. That's what the New York Yankee's think of you. They're paying you three and a half million dollars to play against 'em.


Please sign A Roid, Chicago White Sox. Please. 

He's already fucked everyone in New York, including the fans, so why not come to the South Side and scout the talent during the games, maybe drink a few beers, sit in a recliner and play video games. Are White Sox fans nucking futs? Why would you want this cheating loser on your squad, even for free? Contrast his nonchalant style with Kevin Youkilis, who gave the Sox a major boost midseason with his willingness to go deep into counts and fight a pitcher to the death for a walk, a scratch single, or even a home run. You're not going to get anything like that from this bum, even for nothing. I don't even wish this waste of space on the White Sox. Especially since you just don't have any at bats to go around at DH with Adam Dunn and Konerko already on the team. 


Alright, I talked myself into it. Please sign A Rod Kenny Williams. 



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Wednesday, October 17, 2012

The Shuttered Room On Blood Island

The two movies I will be reviewing tonight, The Shuttered Room and A Name For Evil are very unique and interesting entries in one of my favorite genres: forsaken places. I love movies where the star seems to be a forboding landscape, abandoned asylum, or ancestral estate. In The Shuttered Room, also known as Blood Island, and based on a story by H.P. Lovecraft, a couple returns to a sparsely populated island where the woman was born. As soon as the ferry leaves them on the island you know it's about to go bad. The locals are weird and menacing. 

Particularly


Oliver Reed, who plays Ethan, the king of the roost on Blood Island. Until Gig Young shows up with his young wife Sarah, played by Carol Lynley, here taunting by Reed by saying you want to see my boobs you animal, here are my boobs. This makes Ethan angry. There's more to this movie.


There's some sort of monster that is shackled in this shuttered room. But the thing about this movie that wranckled me the most was this pack of jackals...


Geez I just wanted them to die, especially the guy in the Cubs' hat as they taunt and hound Gig Young. The Shuttered Room is an interesting movie, not great, but quite entertaining if you like this genre. 



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Tobasco Versus Lousiana Hot Sauce

I worked in bars and restaurants for over a decade. I often use that rejoinder to begin statements not because it's particularly interesting, but because when you are surrounded by drunk people that long you see and hear almost everything at least once. 

At the bar my brother and I owned, Castaways, along the scenic Rock River we used to do something called Zombie Night. We'd watch zombie movies and eat popcorn. 



One night this guy has a basket of popcorn and he asks me if I had some Tobasco. Of course I had Tobasco. How am I going to make a credible Bloody Mary without Tobasco. But i wondered what this cat was going to do with it. He starts spattering it on the popcorn. I thought the combination seemed disgusting and put it out of mind.

Until last year when I started eating popcorn as a combination snack and meal with olive oil and Tobasco. It's really good with a glass of skim milk and can fill you up late at night when eating something unhealthy would be a bad idea.

But I live in a food desert and can't always get to a supermarket immediately. So, when i ran out of my tiny bottle of Tobasco I thought I'd just run to the dollar store and get some more. No. Walgreens? Out of the question. What they did have was something called...


Louisiana Hot Sauce. They boldly claim to be the original and exclaim "one drop does it." Since a few drops of Tobasco always had done it I decided to put their bold claim to the test.


And, no, one drop does not do it. I started by using the same amount of Tobasco I would use on that amount of popcorn, and almost nothing. I couldn't even tell if it was there or not. So I dripped on more, being cautious in case it kicked in suddenly and left me in agony. Still not much. So, I drizzled on a liberal portion. And it was good. Not as hot as Tobasco, true, but the fact that I could put on more and actually taste it started to grow on me. When I did finally get another bottle of Tobasco I thought I'd just go back to using the Tobasco. But as it turns out I had become preferential to the Louisiana Hot Sauce.


Even though I find Louisiana Hot Sauce's claim that one drop will do it untrue, maybe sometimes it's a good thing to be able to actually taste your food. Another thing I'm always curious about is how products with exactly the same ingredients can vary so much in taste or performance. Another example of this is Excedrin. Like these two hot sauces, it has exactly the same ingredients as any store brand you could buy. But it works better. Why? Is the reaction somewhat psychological? Can Tobasco ever regain the place in my esteem it once had? I'm not sure, and I'm not claiming this is true in all instances, but for now make mine Louisiana Hot Sauce.






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Saturday, October 13, 2012

Was Mario Mendoza On Steroids

Despite being an anemic .215 hitter with only four home runs in 1456 plate appearances, questions persist whether or not utility infielder Mario Mendoza was on the juice. Let's go to the photographic evidence.

Hmm. The visual evidence here suggests Mendoza may have been on Duncan Donuts, but his four career home runs are in no danger of being eliminated from the record books due to abuse of performance enhancing drugs. This reporter is satisfied that Mario Mendoza hit his four home runs fair and square.









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Friday, October 12, 2012

Wayne Twitchell's 1979 Topps Baseball Card Reveals He Is a Vampire

When I was kid I collected baseball cards. I loved baseball and I really loved to memorize the statistics on the back of the cards. Whenever I would get money for my birthday or a good report card I would go buy as many baseball cards as I could afford. I would tear open the cards, throwing aside the rock hard stick of bubble gum, hoping to see the cards of my favorite players. But there was one card I never wanted to see. The first time I saw it I literally recoiled in fear. Something was amiss about the man I saw pictured on the card. Something terrifying. I thought he looked like a vampire. And that man was...

I defy you to tell me Wayne Twitchell's 1979 Topps baseball card doesn't frighten you. I'm surprised with fangs like that this bloodsucker even showed up on film.


Clearly a year earlier Twitchell, sensing he was about to be photographed, had the uncanny undead guile to close his mouth when about to be photographed for his baseball card. Wayne Twitchell may be a beloved shop teacher somewhere in America for all I know, or he may have vanished into the endless night to search for victims to satisfy his unholy bloodlust, but for two years of my youth his baseball cards traumatized me. Seeing it now his fangs don't seem to protrude as prominently as they seemed to when i was ten, but that too may only be another one of his demonic phantasms. 






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Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Johnny Wockenfuss: The Funniest Name In Baseball History

In a game with a long history of funny names, including Pete LaCock, Rusty Kuntz, Ed Head, Dick Pole, and Johnny Dickshot, for me the funniest baseball name of all time is Johnny Wockenfuss. 


Johnny Wockenfuss shouldn't be funnier to me than Johnny Dickshot, but it is. 

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Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Greenwood Cemetery Rockford, Illinois

As a poet I'm the first person to admit words can be a damn troublesome nuisance. A lot of times they refuse to do what you want them to do. And sometimes they do exactly the opposite. As a poet I'm always looking at words. Maybe I'm hypersensative, but I don't think I see words the same way most other people do. This is another entry in my series of  Poem Photos, which is a collection of examples where words and images seem to evoke contrary, often opposite emotions from what might have been intended. 



Greenwood cemetery in Rockford, Illinois.

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Fat, Drunk and Stupid Is the Rockford Way

The thing about reality is we all see it differently. An example close to my experience is the city I live in, Rockford, Illinois. The national media has a good time making fun of Rockford as the nation's ninth most dangerous city and America's fourth fattest city. Fat, drunk, and stupid may not be any way to go through life according to Dean Wormer, but everyone would have you believe it is the Rockford way. Except for a contingent of local business people, artists, and Chamber of Commerce-type publicists who would have you believe it's all unicorns and rainbows in Rockford and the national media should mind its own business..

So, who's right?

Money Magazine ranked Rockford as The Worst City In America in 1996. Beating out strong contenders like Flint, Michigan, Gary, Indiana, and Youngstown, Ohio. Rockford citizens responded exactly the way you would expect: by burning Money Magazine. 



The Midway Theater. The roof collapsed this Spring. Still no one has fixed it.



A lot of people romanticize the decay and blight in Rockford. And I understand their point of view. Beauty degraded is a valid artistic statement. But I live within a stone's throw of the building in this photograph. I walk past it on a daily basis. And aside from the sadness watching a once beautiful structure reduced to a pile of rubble by a negligent, profiteering scumbag slumlord evokes in your heart, this building is a public nuisance and emblamatic of why Rockford is considered backward, corrupt, and worthy of scorn.

My series of Poem Photos has at its heart the way words and images can sometimes sit side by side and elicit exactly the opposite response than was intended. Words have meanings. Many people want to show you images of the way they want or hope things to look. But this is what Rockford looks like from my perspective. I wish it were different. My heart may even see it differently, but this is the reality. My series of Poem Photos documents different juxtapositions of images and words that somehow have exactly the opposite effect of what was intended. 
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Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Sometimes A Finished Person (A Poem About Gin)

When you have the luxury of working with a great artist like Jenny Mathews and love collaborating with that person, sometimes they go to bed earlier than you and you find yourself in dire need of their talent. Like tonight. "Sometimes A Finished Person" is a poem I wrote last week. Like most of what I write these days it takes on a minimalist stance, not really trying to bite off more subject matter than my talent and concentration can chew. Here's what i did with the poem. The font here is Hobo. The bottle is an actual sloe gin bottle. And enough of my blathering. 


Let's hope when Jenny sees this she'll want to make it into a  Tiny Drawing Poem

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Tuesday, October 2, 2012

My Favorite Episodes of Hammer House of Horror

Hammer House of Horror was a British television series created by the legendary Hammer horror studios which consisted of thirteen episodes broadcast on ITV as a weekly series between September 13th and December 6th 1980. And what a lucky thirteen! Each episode was fifty minutes, and although some of the episodes are slightly uneven, the amazing amount of suspense and tension that was created without graphic violence, foul language, or nudity is extraordinary. Although not on a par with The Twilight Zone in writing quality, at least in my opinion, the level of storytelling is far above what one normally is asked to digest with the standard horror fare. And the acting is similarly good. Here are some of my favorite episodes...


Witching Time


A musician dude is holed up in a small country estate when he gets a visit from a redheaded woman who inquires exactly what it is they do to witches in the 20th century and when he replies nothing much I suppose she announces with relief that's good news because she is a witch then they have sex and she scratches his back up pretty good she looks like this...


I guess it looks like he's got a pretty good handful of haboob there I can't really remember but if there is nudity it's pretty brief and I refrain from using the word tasteful, but if there is it's not obnoxious. Anyway, this musician has a wife. She's not keen on the idea of the back-scratching witch. There's a a conflict. 


In which they try to dispose of the scratchy witch by burning in a bonfire but due to some ancient technicalities this won't fly. What happens? Well, all I can say is there's got to be more than one way to dispense of a redheaded witch. This is the first episode of Hammer House of Horror and a great introduction into the old fashioned type of storytelling that runs throughout the series. Feel free to go ahead and start here when watching the series. Did I mention...


That the intro music is very good? 

The Silent Scream 


This is my favorite episode of Hammer House of Horrors because of...

Peter Cushing

But wait, there's more. You get a plot. You get an early performance by 


Brian Cox, who you'll remember from all kinds of movies like Adaptation and Super troopers. Is he recoiling here because he's just received an electrical shock trying to escape a barless prison cell created by an insane Peter Cushing? Possibly. Is there an escape? More boobs I didn't remember? Maybe. He was also briefly a linebacker with the Chicago Bears, but that's another story.


Rude Awakening 


muAside from classic actor Denholm Eliot's performance as a man who fantasizes about murdering his wife and shagging his secretary, there is one compelling reason to watch Rude awakening multiple times. And that reason is actor James Laurenson, whose performance as the gentle but terrifying Shadmock in Roy Ward Baker's classic The Monster Club may be the greatest single cinematic performance of all the times. 

Depiction of a Shadmock by artist Jenny Mathews. 

It's a good episode, but I'm tired about writing about Hammer House of Horror and since these episodes are all of high quality and only fifty minutes long you can't go wrong by just jumping in and watching any one of them at random. 




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Was Vic Tayback The Zodiac Killer


Was Vic Tayback the Zodiac Killer?


Was actor Vic Tayback of the sitcom Alice fame the Zodiac Killer? We know he was one of several suspects in the early days of the investigation, along with other celebrities like Christopher Walken and Dennis Wilson of the Beach Boys, but is it possible there was a Hollywood celebrity moonlighting as a serial killer in Northern California during the late 60's and early 70's? Many experts think so. In my ongoing Poopsicles painting series I investigate whether or not an actor of Tayback's stature could have committed these ingenious crimes. The Zodiac Killer was never caught and his identity never discovered. 
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White Sox Fans Among the Worst In Sports

I have a permanent and irreversible hatred of White Sox fans en masse. In particular I find them indescernible from the rest of humanity, but in particular I hate them. All of them. If I found out the members of Devo were White Sox fans I would hate them. It's personal. I worked in sports bars in northern Illinois for over a decade and White Sox fans were an irrelevancy to me for nine out of ten of those years. Never saw many at all. Until 2005.

I'd seen Cubs fans. Boatloads of them. Every year. Win or lose. Didn't matter. Cubs fans were there and wanted to watch the game. Hell, they even wanted to talk about the game. There were Packer fans, Bulls fans, Bears fans, I even met more Red Wings fans in those years than White Sox fans. The White Sox were like a distant uncle I'd heard of but never met. 


Until 2005. When the White Sox won a World Series. Spontaneously like in a science experiment White Sox fans appeared like flies. And they had big mouths. They wanted every Cubs' fan in the room to know exactly how many years it had been since the Cubs had won a World Series. But you see, the thing is, I can't think of a single Cubs' fan who doesn't already know that that. A better question would have been how long had it been since the White Sox last won the World Series, because knowing what I know about White Sox fans I doubt any of them would have known. Anyway, a fan base that had been little more than a phantom to me all my life instilled me with hatred in a very short time. A hatred I will never relinquish.


Most Cubs fans completely ignore the White Sox and their fans. They couldn't seem to care any less that there is another team in Chicago. And for most of my life I felt that way, too. Until I started listening to more White Sox games on the radio than Cubs' games.


Yesterday the Detroit Tigers eliminated the White Sox from playoff contention. And White Sox fans did what you would expect them to do: turn on the Bears game and pretend they never cared in the first place. And from the attendance numbers maybe you could make the case that they didn't. They wouldn't come to the games. The White Sox were in first place for nearly the entire season and White Sox fans couldn't be bothered to show up to support their team. They did still have energy left over to bitch and moan and deride the Cubs fans that do actually show up to cheer on the Cubs win or lose, but their own team... too much trouble.


In Septemeber the Detroit Tigers showed up at the new stadium to support their team, often drowning out the few White Sox fans that bothered to show up. You wouldn't have even known that the White Sox were three games ahead of the Tigers. What the White Sox fans did manage to do, though, was cheer sarcastically when Adam Dunn, a player who hit over forty home runs this year, fouled off a ball after striking out three times in a game. What assholes. Seriously, you're assholes. 


And, no, the other team is not cheating every game as your radio and television broadcast teams would have the world believe. It gets sickening listening to Harrelson and Farmer accusing everyone from the grounds crew to the ball boy of trying to cheat the White Sox. Every fucking game they accuse someone of using a foreign substance on the ball or balking or the umpires are out to get the Sox. No, they're not. You got beat. By other teams who were trying harder than you were. 


Three times now in the past five years the White Sox have blown substantial leads in the American League Central to lose to the Twins and Tigers, each time displaying a gutless, passionless acceptance of defeat once they were caught, and subsequently refusing to play hard the rest of the year. There were no injuries. No bad luck. The Twins and the Tigers just caught the Sox and beat the shit out of them and then the Sox laid down. It's a gutless team that can only win when everything goes their way. In spite of Hawk Harrelson's insistence that the Sox are always being cheated by the other team, the umpires, and fate itself, the Sox have gone on several jags over the past years where everything goes their way. Teams like the Yankees, Red Sox, and Red Sox lay down for them, infielders lose their internal compass and thrown the ball into the stands, pitchers throw wild pitches with runners on third. and the Sox hit tons and tons of home runs.


That happened again this year. 


Until September.


Then the luck seemed to run out. And the home runs stopped coming. None of this meant the White Sox couldn't keep winning. They could have played actual baseball and won some games. But they didn't. They couldn't. 


Three times this year the Tigers beat the White Sox brains out in head to head competition, sweeping series to get even in the standings with the White Sox. And each time the White Sox went on to play the Minnesota  Twins. And each time the Minnesota Twins should have had their franchise revoked for playing nothing like professional baseball. Those nine games the Sox swept after being swept by a better Tigers team kept the Sox in first place, but it didn't cover up the fact that the Tigers were better and making more of an effort.


By the time the Tigers did catch the White Sox in the standings late in September the Sox had already given up, again. Like they did two years ago when the Tigers gut punched them in a series soon after the All Star game and the Sox never made an effort again.


Neither did their fans. Except to do the old Bronx cheer when they wanted to passively aggressively boo Adam Dunn, or their team's captain, Paul Konerko. That is the few of them who even made the effort to show up.


You suck White Sox fans. You really suck. I doubt that your endless negativity is even a factor in why the White Sox have choked away three division leads in five years, but it can't help. 


I just got the one thing left to say. Nah, nah, nah, nah. Nah, nah, nah, nah. Hey hey hey... goodbye. 




Next year you can boo one of your own players wearing another teams' uniform. Classless.



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