November 2, 2010, 5:55 p.m. First of all, I tried the good sportsmanship thing last night, congratulating San Francisco on their victory. And got blasted for it. Ripped a new one, is I what I got.
On Facebook in particular, for all the world to see. Then the earth shook, a coupla moron Giants fans in Arlington chanted "Beat L.A." and my friends united in protest. Against me.
And they had a point, to be perfectly honest with you. I must regain their trust.
While I'd normally watch every last minute of the final day of baseball, I turned from the tube after just a few minutes of post-game. No ESPN follow-up, nor a minute of the MLB Network.
Instead, I tuned to "In Treatment," fitting since I was going to need months of therapy.
Then I watched Craig Ferguson at 12:30 a.m., a recorded "That 70s Show," and a 2:00 a.m. KDOC showing of "Get Smart." The Leadside episode (he can run but he cannot walk, don't ya know), of which I know every line. I tried to hum along with the following "Hogan's Heroes" theme, as per usual, but couldn't muster a note.
The Main Squeeze, who hails from the Bay Area but is a convert (like, I would've married her otherwise) was more than understanding. Sweet, actually.
Feeling dirty, and in bed till well past 11 this morning, almost afraid to hit the computer, I decided grubby Tuesday was the way to go. So no shower; and I haven't yet brushed my teeth. I sit here sullied by current events, but prepared to amend my ill-conceived magnanimity of last night.
You ready, my Dodger fan friends? I am humbled before you, thoroughly apologetic, ashamed to have let you down so. What a boob, I was. A hardy I'm not worthy to you now. It won't happen again. May I go out and come in again please?
Bleep the San Francisco Giants! Bleep them, I say. An uglier bunch I've never seen. They can go right ahead and bite me. Bounders!
We'll be ready for you on Opening Day, bleepers! Friday, April 1, 2011. Clayton Kershaw on the mound and ready for that next level; Tim Lincecum being run out on his shield. I'm ready right now. Let's get it on.
Oh, and how about that Ron Washington, huh? Jackass. I mean, I'm a jackass because of last night too, but he's a bigger jackass.
And lest we forget from once he came, Washington was Dodger property from 1976 to 1980 – the Lasorda years. So is it any wonder the Texas manager pitched to Edgar Renteria, with first base open with and a championship on the line, an obviously inferior hitter in Aaron Rowand on deck?
Given a chance to explain the decision – the decision of the World Series – Washington whiffed. Post-game interview question: "Given the people in the middle of their batting order that you were conscious of, was the pop that Renteria showed throughout the series somewhat surprising?"
Answer: "No, I've seen him do that before. He's a quality ballplayer. You look at that lineup that the Giants have, they have some quality players out there, and Renteria, this wasn't his first rodeo in the World Series, either. He's a big time player, so is Uribe, big time player, and he's playing big time. The word I got, he was slow at shortstop, he looked like the young Renteria that I seen when he first came over. They played extremely good baseball."
Translation: "Brain cramp. I'm a jackass." In a town like Boston or New York, that's a call that gets you a pink slip.
But OK. Washington's lame, but the Giants were the better team, and the best in baseball. What a thing to say. Fair warning though – hold me to it and I'll deny it, so help me. Internet type can be easily manipulated, or deleted.
Whatever. That's it for baseball 2010 style. I don't want to talk about it anymore. I have some crow to eat, and a bet to pay off on. Big time, as Ron Washington would say.
Actually, it's not a bet but a promise, made on Facebook and reminded of by the ever-present-and-literal-taking pal of mine, guy by the name of Kevin Conley.
In a thread about the manliness of beards, I said this: "Giants win three more games and I'm shaving my beard. Or I'm dying it blue. Or I'm shaving the beard and then dying it blue. Or something."
Conley follows-up last night with this posting on my wall: "Howard, I believe you will be updating your profile photo with a picture of your face after having shaved the beard.... refer to your post of Oct 27th...don't fear the lack of a beard!"
Well, I never said I'd change my profile picture, but fine. Why the bleep not? So if there are any beauticians with a blue solution listening, I'll dye my beard a perfect shade of Dodger blue, pose for the cameras, maybe parade around L.A. for a few hours, and reach for the turpentine. Good enough for ya, Kevin?
Talkback: Your comments are always encouraged…
Media Savvy: Re the other rival, and in defense of the Dodgers, check out this piece by an old favorite of mine, Phil Wallace, of LAObserved.com…
Statue for Sandy: The Giants have all kinds of statues – with a Cody Ross no doubt in the works – while the Dodgers have none. No Sandy Koufax, no Don Drysdale, no Vinny, etc., etc., etc.
If there's ever been a better time, I can't think of one. The Koufax in bronze campaign continues. Proudly.
Please Vote “Yes on 32.” And tell a friend. Tell all your friends. Seven years of trying is enough. We're going to make this happen in 2011. I'm already dying my beard blue. What more do I need to do?
I miss baseball.
But remember, glove conquers all….
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