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Wednesday, September 8

Six simple rules for spittin' hittin' into the wind

Before I present the Six Simple Rules, I just wanted to let you in on a valuable tip. I have a flat-screen TV...not an expensive 'flat panel', just a tv with a flat tube. I picked it up last year, 20" Sanyo for the bedroom, for a buck-and-a-half. This tube also has a plastic 'filter' on the front, that serves kinda like netting.

Anyway, this kind of tv is highly resistant to breakage. I know this, because I tried my DAMNDEST last night to fuckin' cave the screen in. So I highly recommend it for its durability.

OK, without further eloquence,

The Sloth's Six Simple Rules for Hittin' into the Wind at Wrigley Field

1) Do not try to hit a homer into the wind.

2) Furthermore, when the wind is blowing in at you, do NOT try to lift the ball into the air, trying for a home run.

3) In a situation when the game is on the bags, and the wind is blowing right at your face, try to hit the ball low, on a line. Do NOT try to uppercut your swing to trying to hit the ball into the bleachers. You cannot do it.

4) When it is the ninth inning, and your name is Moises Alou, and you're 38 years old, and the bases are loaded, and it's two outs, and all it takes is a lousy motherfucking dink over the shortstop's head to win the game, don't hit the ball in the air.

5) Above all, when the wind is blowing in from the left field stands at 25 mph, and the first five times you mindless fuckmonkeys tried to hit a homer, the ball landed short of the warning track, and you have the entire states of California, Texas and Florida at your back wanting what you have, do NOT try to swing from your jock to muscle the goddamned ball out of the yard. I DON'T CARE if Corey hit one out. In case you haven't noticed, you drooling maggot, he hits the ball from the other side of the plate, and the wind isn't blowing up his ass. You CAN'T DO IT, so don't even try.

6) And finally, once and for all, I don't give a nun-fucking-shit about how big you are, even a BRAIN-DAMAGED slimy-assed inky squid is smart enough not to try to smash a home run into the teeth of a nighttime wind, especially not when you're playing a bunch of double-A misfits who can't seem to find the plate, the ball, or their own assholes with both hands and a seeing-eye dog, when the only fucking run you need is closer than I can piss, and a dribbly-ass runt single through the hole is all it takes to get him home.

Anyway, there you have it. The entire six simple rules for dealing with the Friendly Confines on a night like last night. One would THINK that the Great Sarge Matthews, highly-compensated hitting coach, would have gotten off his duff and taken the time to remind Alou, Ramirez, and Lee of this simple little chart last night, particularly in the bottom of the ninth.

If Sarge wasn't able to commit all six verses to memory, all he had to say to our glorious heroes was "keep it down and hard". That's what they're paying him upwards of a half a milldo to do.

Maybe he did, maybe not. God knows we aren't going to get the truth anytime soon from these butt-clowns. Nights like this, I just say fuck, they don't deserve to win.