Saturday, October 20, 2012
The sweep is complete and, as expected, most of the discussion has been about what’s wrong with the Yankees rather than what’s right with whomever they played. It was Detroit, right?
Regardless of the fortunes of our favorite club to love or hate, work at Picasner at Large never ceases. In late breaking developments we have retired The Newt. While he enjoyed a lengthy run through a mixture of Machiavelli, P. T. Barnum and Sen. Joe McCarthy, Newt has rendered himself irrelevant. Another bizarre presidential run and a helping boot in the ass from Willard the Mitt, an obfuscater of equal skill and an equally astonishing lack of ethics, has reduced Captain Crap, our favorite fascist, to less than an interesting footnote in the current political landscape. We now will pay homage to Major Mitt the conqueror.
The Captain is dead. Long live the Major.
With our new standard bearer we will be awarding MITTS in entirely new categories including the coveted “That’s Not What I Said. OK. That’s What I Said but I Meant the Opposite”. No shortage of nominees there.
We are also currently reviewing candidates for the equally prestigious “Tell Me What You Believe So I Can Believe It Too” MITT. Hi ho.
Baseball - Part 2
In case you missed it, two National League baseball teams are still competing to determine who will face the team that beat the Yankees (was it the Tigers?) in the 2012 World Series, not that anyone cares.
Really Important Stuff
We’ve had more than our share of strange requests here at Picasner, and while we do our best to meet the entertainment and pseudo-psychological needs of our loyal readers, we are unable at this time to fulfill Bob the Golfer’s request that we write his obituary - not because the topic is is a bit to morbid for the delicate sensitivities of Yankee fans but because Bob the Golfer has not yet joined great Ptah’s hugh side. That is to say, he isn’t yet dead.
If we grant Bob the Golfer’s wish, how long would it be before his students, acolytes, disciples, and vast gallery of admirers demand equal recognition? And god knows the staff of our ‘You’re Outt’a‘ Here Bozo’ division is already busy preparing the obits of those soon to depart the warm, loving bosom of the Yankee’s bottomless bank account for the chilly wastelands of small market ball clubs. Heave ho.
However, if Bob the Golfer will wait until the Yankee’s post-season carnage of trades, releases, and Meadow Lands burials is complete before cracking open his skull falling headlong over a thirty foot embankment rescuing an errant shot of Billy Guitar or Don with a Dent in his Head, we’ll do our best to honor his memory.
The Final Word
It should be fun for all baseball fans to watch Justin Verlander pitch in the World Series. He works quickly and throws gas. Miguel Cabrerra, Triple Crown winner - say no more - and Prince Fielder is a hoot to watch doing anything or nothing at all - and can you think of a better Halloween costume? Everyone else, not so much.
Prayer of the Day
May the Giants come back to eliminate the Cardinals so that Mark McGwire isn’t allowed to sully another fall classic - but, hey, we’re not here to talk about the past.
Posted by Zola at 9:44 AM