Thursday, October 30, 2008
My white-trash, future baby daddy will not be the owner of a World Series ring after all.
I was on the Rays bandwagon for one reason -- James Shields. After my buddy Jerry insisted I pick him up last year for fantasy baseball, and he pitched my baseball ignorant ass to a second place finish, I was hooked!
Sadly for Mr. Shields, his teammates choked, and let the Phillies run away with the World Series.
My man did his part, pitching the Rays to their lone win of the Series in Game 2.
The rest of them . . . bah, humbug! Terrible! Bats that blasted homer after homer fell silent. The staff ace forgot how to throw a strike. And I could have handled the pitching better than the Rays manager Maddon (Price, you asshat, Price . . . use him, dammit!).
It's too bad I cannot be in Florida to comfort poor Mr. Shields. I'm sure he'd like nothing more than to make me the mother of his next illegitimate child :)
I mean how can not love this guy?