John Smoltz sucks, and the Red Sox suck even worse for allowing him to so publicly commit professional suicide.
John, a word of advice: Get out while you still have your balls, if you still have them. Watching you crack up after 20+ years of dignified service to the league would be heartbreaking if you weren't crushing the nuts off my team in the process. Theo, another word of advice: You get what you pay for. This offseason, can we please commit to getting a real pitcher, not a mummified hasbeen with one good arm?
Fuck. Oh, good, Tito's coming from the dugout to take him out now-finally. He probably practiced that move all day today knowing he was going to need it a lot earlier than usual (and that's saying something when brad penny is in your rotation). Take the time between that walk from the dugout and heading for the showers to compose your goddamn retirement speech, John. It's only a few innings -half a season at most-too late.
Paul Byrd notwithstanding, I do not feel good about the state of Red Sox pitching right now, and I've got a very bad feeling about the rest of this series. A Paul-Sheldon-at-Annie-Wilkes'-house-very-bad-feeling...
Oh, and fuck Rudolph Hess-er, Giuliani-too.
Goddamn it. Where's my beer?