BASEBALL BASEBALL BASEBALL BASEBALL BASEBALL BASEBALL BASEBALL BASE
BALL BASEBALL BASEBALL BASEBALL BASEBALL. BASEBALL. Baseball…baseball.
The 2012 MLB season began today at 3:10 AM Pacific Time. The Seattle Mariners beat the Oakland Athletics 3-1 in 11 innings somewhere in Japan, probably Tokyo or its anagram friend, Kyoto. I hear Osaka is a dump. Dustin Ackley, starting second baseman on my AL-only fantasy team*, hit the first home run that counts this year.
*Benevolent Bombers out to repeat as champions, bitches!
I would show it to you, but mlb.com doesn’t let you embed recent videos. Here’s a fucking photo essay instead:
Sorry Dustin, but it’s true. Think about it: How many nonwhite players are the face of their franchise? Albert Pujols is one, Ozzie Guillén another. Both their teams are in areas with a large Latino population (granted, Pujols used to be in a place that is not like that). I think I might look into this later. You’re right about one thing: I should be talking about you right now.
Dustin switched to a tougher workout regimen in the offseason.
Mickey taught him how to catch lighting and go yard, but not the finer points of acting. Oh well.
Let us turn to the other principal actor concerned, Brandon McCarthy.
Brandon spent his offseason living the glamorous life—fast money, fast cars, fast women. He posed for magazine covers with models, and by “models” I mean “a model.”
Needless to say, even though it is being said, Brandon’s life choices damaged his other relationships.
As we all have known since our days as lads and lasses, in sports the good guy—the hard worker, the role model, the wholesome up-and-coming superstar—always wins, and the bad guy—the unattractive, groundball-inducing journeyman who is called lazy and decadent by libelous bloggers—always loses. Thus when Brandon did this…
…Dustin did this…
Later, the side of the emotional spectrum that H. Dustin Ackley will never know is on display in the visage of Brandon McCarthy after the game, after A’s Manager Bob Melvin sent him to timeout in front of the team’s portable dirty-stucco wall.
Things will only get worse for Brandon after he reads this post on his snazzy phone.
Thank you for finishing the photo essay. Here is Tupac’s “Heartz of Men”