Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Team Literally Going to the Dogs

I'm a huge fan of Fresno State football. Over the years I've seen them take on the big boys like Oregon and Wisconsin, and the story is always the same. They play well for 58 minutes, then some moron tries to recover a blocked field goal or gets hit in the leg by a bouncing punt and that one stupid miscue costs them the game.

Which brings us to the Giants. How the #@#$##$ do you lose a one-hitter...AGAIN!

The culprits in tonight's 1-0 loss to The Hated Dodgers are easy to pinpoint: an abortion of an offense, Jose Uribe's cast-iron glove, and the complete bastard that put this team together.

To Brian Satan, a hearty "Ef You!" This is your fault, and you should pay with your job, your concience (if you have one) and your entire friggin' career.

Damn right I'm mad. In tight situations, a team's flaws are exposed and magnified. This team can't hit. It hasn't been able to hit all year, and when it really counted they pulled a vanishing act that would have made Chris Angel blush.

It had been over a century since this once-proud franchise had managed to lose a one-hitter. They've done it twice this year. To add insult to injury, the Dodgers' lone hit didn't even figure into the scoring. But a routine grounder that Uribe played like he was fielding with a fork and a boxing glove proved to be the difference.

Barry Zito set the table with two walks and a hit batter, but the fact remains that he made the pitch to get out of it and Uribe just flat butchered it. Hey, didn't Sabean re-sign this jerk at a substantial raise?

Scew this team. This is what they do. They give you hope, then rip your heart from your chest like a Thugee sacrifce to Khali.

All that work done in San Diego is gone. The Padres now lead by a game and a half, they also have a game in hand, and the Giants are in one of their it-seems-to-happen-every-other-week slumps where a 3-2 count qualifies as a rally.

Shortstop is killing them. Offense is killing them. Inept management is killing them. And this crap is absolutely killing me. Forty freaking years of this garbage. I want to hurl, and I want to absolutely douse Sabean when I do it.

Don't drag it out, Giants. Just get it over with. Put the barrel in your mouth and pull the trigger.  Go feed the seals at Pier 39 and let someone who has a freaking clue take over this skidmark of a team.

They're 9-4 in September but hitting .200 while doing it. This isn't a pennant race, it's a mirage.

You can't drink sand.


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