Friday, January 04, 2008

If Ken Williams can wake up long enough to make a trade, I guess I can wake up long enough to blog about it

I like the Nick Swisher trade. Prospects be fucked. Prospects are like the first pancake in a batch -- you never know how they're gonna turn out -- fluffy, delicious, and VORPy, or torn, overcooked, and disgusting. Swisher is going to work out well for the Sox. Hey, I'm the guy who correctly predicted how much the Sox would suck last season, so you can trust me. Yes! I know everything before it's gonna happen! Spooky, huh?

Jesus Christ, a lot of Sox fans are whiny ass titty babies. You'd think they were Cubs fans, for crying out loud.

"Boo hoo! Kenny traded De los dos del los las dis dat deez doze Santos! He traded Geo Metro ... or whatever his name is!"

Yup, two minor league pitchers in their early 20s who may or may not end up being any good at all. (Also traded: a minor league outfielder whom we already know is for crap.) Two days ago they were kvetching about how he hadn't made enough deals this off-season.

"But we meant that he should get somebody awesome without giving up anybody at all!!! WAAAHHH!!! We got pwnzored by Billy Beane again!!!!!!"

Uh ... I think you got off the Red Line at the wrong stop. I think you meant to exit at Addison. You whining pussy of a straw-man pretend fan.

Granted, Kenny has been assfucked in the ass time and again by Beane, anorectally in the butt. And this deal, by itself, does not put the White Sox in a position where they're going to do better than 4th place in 2008 (you heard it here, folks -- the Sox are going to stink to high heaven again) -- nor does it do anything to improve their future outlook.

But ... and here comes one more crazy prediction, folks ... after the creaky and aging Paulie Konerko gets traded along with with injury- and Boras-representation-plagued Joe Crede to the O.C. Angels of Anaheim, Aztlan, y California (or whatever their name is this year) for Chone Figgins and a mint-condition Farrah Fawcett poster, Kenny and the White Sox are going to look much better.

After, that is, torch-and-pitchfork-wielding South Siders tantrum themselves out and collapse into an "Oh, aren't they cute when they sleep?" state of exhaustion due to what will surely be a highly unpopular move, Paulie being as irrationally beloved as he is among the White Sox District. (No "Nation" for you, small-market fans!)

Yeah. So the followings are goings to happens: Nick Swisher is going to get on base a lot, hit a respectable number of home runs in home-run-friendly Sox Park, and get a nice tally of RBIs and runs scored and OBP and yippa yappa, etc. He will be serviceable at first base -- which position will be open because Paulie will be outta hyah. And Chone Figgins is going to kick ass at shortstop after -- thank yeeee, Baby Jesus -- Juan Uribe is fie-nuh-lee gotten rid of (for a can of wasabi peanuts and a half-hearted neck rub, I'm guessing). And Josh Fields is gonna be decent at third base and people are gonna like him.

And the White Sox will be lucky to finish in third place.

Meanwhile, on the North Side, the Cubs will look like strong contenders for at least three days this season, before they fold like skillfully prepared omelets that are much less delicious than actual non-baseball-team versions of said breakfast treats and ... win the division anyway, cuz their division looks like it's gonna suck. But they will lose dismally in the playoffs again. Granted, that's a blue chip prediction, but I don't have any outlandish ones to make about the Cubbies. Except that Mark Cuban will not be buying them ... which, come to think of it, is not exactly going out on a limb either.

In other (i.e., non-baseball) news, here we are in 2008. I hope it doesn't suck as much as 2007 did, but I'm pretty sure it's going to be even worse. Much, much worse. My crystal ball contains images of health worries, professional miseries, and continued increases in extreme alienation levels dominating the timescape this year -- and those are the good things in store. And 2009? Good God, I don't even wanna think about it. If I'm still alive, ask me then.

But on the bright side, it's only 40 days till pitchers and catchers report to Spring Training.


Anonymous said...

VORPY pancakes... oof! Do they sell those those in an aerosol can too?

New VORPY flavored aerosol pancakes... now with CORN!

get it? Because of the can the corn thing. I am lousy at any baseball related burgoo. I am alienated by all of everything, I think.

the foojang guy

Stronger Than Dirt Pete Moss said...

Welp, Mr. Guy, my baseball commentary is pretty much limited to such "cans of corn" as making fun of player names, making fun of fans, making fun of stadiums, making fun of umpires, making fun of newfangled statistics like "VORP," etc. Because, een my cone-tree of Soviet Chicago, everything is alienated by YOU. And by YOU, I mean ME.

My other question (actually, my first question) is, if it's true that the expression "can of corn" (dating back to 1896 or 1920, depending on which website you choose to believe) was derived from the practice in Olde Tyme grocery stores of retrieving cans from high shelves with a stick so that they tumbled down and were easily caught by the grocer -- was corn the only vegetable available in canned form at that time? Why not "can of peas" or "can of green beans" or "can of fiddlehead ferns"? My guess is the good old "rule of K," the "glottal shock" theory expounded by such personages as Buddy Hackett. This is one reason why Hawk Harrelson will not anytime soon be adopting the catchphrase, "aseptic box of chopped tomatoes." Sadly.

Dessie "Woo woo" said...

The Cubs fan base is not so much a "Nation" as much as it is a "Confederation", as in a "Confederacy of Dunces", of which I am one. (See, if you pretend to be part of the group you are insulting, it deadens the sting. Probably. Although if you're trying to be manipulative, it probably doesn't help if you inform the potential victim of the technique you just used on them. Unless you're the Republicans, in which case that's just the icing on the cake.)