Fuck you, K-Rod. Honestly, fuck you. And you too, Bay. I wanted you both here, I liked you in other uniforms, you’re both fucking worthless. Take your huge fucking contracts and sleep on them tonight. FUCK YOU!
Jesus…and I don’t mean Feliciano.
Not to take this overly personally, but I had a real nice post composed in my head for 8 innings about the halfway point and the Mets having, as David Wright says in those Lincoln commercials, officially changed the game, what an uplifting half-season it’s been and — and this is the kicker — how you look at Francisco Rodriguez’s game-by-game performances and, drama aside, he’s been incredibly effective in a bottom line sense so get off his ass already.
But now, fuck you K-Rod. And Bay, who couldn’t get a big hit in the late innings if it was waiting in the mailbox for him.
R.A. Dickey outshines Stephen Strasburg and it goes to waste. Alex Cora becomes a triples machine and it goes to waste. There’s insurance runs all over the place (though Allstate, State Farm and Geico together wouldn’t insure anything Frankie Rodriguez touches) and they go to waste.
The Nationals. The fucking Nationals. What the fuck more do you want out of the schedule? Jesus.
UPDATE: K-Rod says after the game he’s ashamed of himself, he’s embarrassed and he apologizes to the fans. Stand-up guy. Horrible closer at the moment, but stand-up guy. I’d prefer a dependable closer who’s kind of a weasel.