There is something very freeing about living in a shitty sports city and Seattle most definitely is that recently. The fiery passions that burn in my heart, once extinguished, can be replaced with a smothering hatred towards all things. I no longer have to root for my team to win but I can now root openly for other teams to fail, hoping for misery the way a contending fan hopes for a joyous outcome. It is a truly liberating feeling.
Watching the ALCS between the Tampa Bay Rays and the Bawston Red Sawks I came to the realization that I wasn't rooting so much for the Rays to win as I was rooting for the Sawks to lose. I was wishing their terribly annoying fans to disappear and go back to committing hate crimes on assorted minorities and quee-ahs. The Tampa Bay Rays could have been the terrible KC Royals and I would have been just as happy.
During that series I felt, for the first time in a long time, that there indeed was a God and he too hated the Sawks. Why else would he let them come back from a 7-0 deficit in the 7th inning of a potentially deciding game? What other explanation was there for the Sawks taking game 6 as well? This inflated Bawston sports fans egos to Sally Struthers proportions as the media talked about the experienced leadership of the Sawks, how they had been there before, twice, and come back. Then in one last final act of cruelty the Lord let Justin Pedroia hit a 1st inning homerun leading Sawks fans all over the country to blow their loads on their keep sake photos of the balding midget.
God has a hell of a sense of humor, just look at the platypus. He gave Sawks fans so much hope and hubris only to pull it all away with the gas powered arm of rookie David Price. Price came out and pitched the last two innings of ALCS game 7 and blew away the veteran Sawks line-up. What indignity! For such gritty and clutch vets to be cut down like wheat before the scythe by a rookie, was unthinkable to Sawks fans. The rook should have been like a young Ricky "Wild Thing" Vaughn, unable to find the strike zone and eventually walk in the winning run. That he didn't gave me a schadenfreude hard-on the would put Mr.Marcus to shame.
Just when I thought I couldn't revel anymore in the pain of others, came Sunday. America's Team was a team in turmoil. Missing their starting QB, Tony Romo, with a broken pinky, having lost "big play" corner/punt returner Pacman Jones due to idiocy, and superstar Terrell Owens whining like one of the dogs Mike Vick drowned because he wasn't getting enough touches. Both coach Wade Phillips and Owner Jerry Jones had to be worried about things, as this pre-season Super Bowl favorite had lost 2 of it's last 3 games going into Sunday. That one win was a squeaker against the winless Bungles.
The Rams were on a high after firing Coach Scott Linehan whose tactics, like benching $60 million man Marc Bulger for the walking concussion Trent Green, had lost him the team's respect. The high was extended as they rolled over Dallas 34-14. Steven Jackson ran through Dallas' once vaunted D for 160 yard and 3 td's. The whole while I was on a schadenfreude high cheesing my balls off. I hadn't been that giddy Since Monday Night Football where Elisha Manning reverted to the slobbering mongoloid we knew him as.
The implosion of the Cowboys looks to continue for at least few more weeks . Their schedule before the bye is imposing to put it lightly as The 5-2 Bucs come to Dallas, then The 'Boys go to NY to face the retard and his 5-1 VaGiants, after that is a bye and Romo may be back. At that point it might be too late like foreigner said "the damage is done".
I may not have a lot to look forward to sportswise in my black hole sunshine city, this is true. But I have more than enough sources to keep my hate filled heart overflowing in these coming weeks and that's all that really matters.
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