I won't make a big deal about women talking sports. I walk upright and don't drag my knuckles on the ground so the idea that women can get down and chat about America's past time or football or hockey or golf, (not a sport)...I'm ok with that. However, as today is my day off and I went to enjoy breakfast at my day off breakfast spot, (for the first time in like a month,) and a woman behind the counter began to slag a member of the World Champion Boston Red Sox. I sat and took a sip of scaulding coffee and contemplated whether or not I was going to make a two or three pronged attack.
While I don't particularly care for Schill as a person, I think he is a hell of a baseball player. This woman felt the need to tell me how awful Curt is and that Boston never should have picked him up. I choked down another mouthful of eggs and some more coffee before I began my attack.
"Without Schill, we would not be World Champions." She looked at me as if I had a donkey dick growing out of my forehead. "You're kidding right?" she said as she poured unused half & half back into a container. She put on a face that could stop a charging bull and began to regale me with the story of how badly Schill got worked during his rehab assignment in Pawtucket. She then told me how he threw nothing but meatballs once he came back up to Fenway. The she made her final mistake, she asked if I had seen how badly he performed the other night.
Like mana from heaven, I seized my opportunity to excoriate her for her lack of knowledge and faith in her own team, her home team. Granted some of what she said was true, but Mr. Schilling was in fine form the other night and if he wants to continue to throw meatballs while tossing three-hitters, so be it. While I think Schilling is a Jesus-snortin', alcoholic, dirty fucking republican, I still think he is a hell of a pitcher, as well as a team player. A guy who has his tendon sutured to his leg in order to be able to play, knows how to spell team and he knows there is no "I" in it.
Flo, seemed a little taken aback by my passionate rebuttal however after going over my points of selfless acts, all star play and redemption from almost one hundred years of blood, sweat and tears, she seemed to agree with me whether she wanted to or not. She asked the 75 yeard old repair man next to me if he thought I was right. "The kid makes a good point" the repairman, who oddly enough also goes by JJ, barked as bits of toast got stuck in his goatee. Flo tried to sell me on Arroyo and while I like him because Bronson is bold and brash and can be a cocksucker and bean anyone at a moments notice, JJ senior made a good point in stating that Arroyo seems more concerned with his rock band, than his baseball team.
Flo freshened my coffee and retired to the kitchen to do somemore cooking and try and comeup with a way to discredit one of Boston's greatest heros.
I hope you all are well.