Wednesday, October 24, 2007

I figured I would do a bunch of research and see how the Boston Red Sox and Colorado Rockies match up in our annual Fall Classic but then I remembered I'm a lazy drunk with serious ADD problems. Seriously, I can't remember how many times I have forgotten where I put my beer only to pick up the one which one of my asshole buddies has left full of dip spit.

But anyways what was I talking about?

Oh yeah, the World Series. I'm not going to lie I didn't think the Red Sox would make the World Series let alone the playoffs when they signed JD Drew in the off season. And of course I had no idea the Rockies would be God's team and go on a Godly win streak just to make the playoffs. So here we sit with the hated Red Sox going against the upstart Jesus freaks out of Colorado. We have the self loathing, narcissistic butt plugs from New England fan base against the tree hugging, care less about baseball would rather be skiing with Buffy crowd from Colorado. So who wins?

On the surface it would appear the Red Sox have a clear advantage in regards to starting pitching, bullpen, and overall lineup. But seriously, throw all that shit out because it doesn't matter. If you think I'm an idiot just look at what the St. Louis Cardinals did last season. They were a really average if not bad team but somehow made the playoffs due to playing in a dickless division and yet they still won the whole damn thing despite Kenny Rogers blatant cheating and Jim Leyland's chain smoking fatties in between every pitching change.

So I looked for signs, you know, stuff that God tells you when you do too many shots of Jack Daniels so you start mixing Red Bull with Vodka and call yourself a "real drinker." Pussies drink Red Bull. I say this because I had a Red Bull one time and I shit worse than after eating a ten pack of Taco Bell shacos* at 1 am after drinking a case of Natty Light. Ah the good times of drinking away a good education. Searching for signs I figured I would look for the best looking chicks among their fan bases. Boston Red Sox fans are mostly dudes and the few women out there are straight Tabasco to the cornea. Colorado probably has good looking women but it's too fucking cold there so they all move to California by the time they are done with college.

I dug, I drank, I pissed, and I flipped the channels until my finger tips bleed looking for just one sign to give me an idea of who will win. It's the gambler's mentality in my head. Fuck logic, where has that ever gotten me besides blistering sores that shouldn't exist below the belt?

And finally I found it in the depths of what was once a baseball hell sitting with a jersey with the name of the guy who will make the difference in this series...

Nothing like a bulls eye on the lower back to tell everybody your game.

Red Sox in 7.

*shacos=shit tacos

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