Thursday, September 27

The Milwaukee Brewers Want Me To Kill Myself.

I Hate Myself And Want To Die.
(Wow, this photo looks like crap. Thanks, photo compression!)

Those who claim that baseball is boring and emotionless have obviously never watched a game that had playoff implications. More than likely, these people are also Marlins fans.

Next to soccer (which, let's face it, sucks), there is no sport more emotionally draining than baseball. While football and basketball have rapid ups and downs, wild mood swings and other various forms of mental subterfuge, an epic-yet-losing game of baseball will suck the very will to live right out of you. The methodical pacing of the game lulls you into a false sense of security, then curb-kicks your teeth out with one crack of the bat. When a football game is down to one second, chances are that it's all over. In baseball, it ain't over until the final pitch, and even then, they just might have to play until Christmas to break the tie.

Watching a baseball game melt in front of your eyes is like getting a call that your pet was just hit by a car. The weight in your gut makes you feel like you don't want to live anymore; everything was going so well up to that point. If losing a last-second basketball game is like a shotgun blast to the head, losing a last-second baseball game is like having your wenis carved up with a zesting tool. It's never over fast enough, and you probably won't even get the satisfaction of dying. With each passing day on the schedule, it's just another step closer to your team's ultimate doom, and there's nothing you can do but close your eyes, hold someone's hand, and cry until your wife makes you a salad to quell the pain. Oh, and a glass of wine would be great. Thanks.

If I sound melodramatic, it's because I'm currently in a huge depression onset by the recent behavior of a certain Milwaukee Brewers franchise. If you're just catching up, the Brewers had been in sole possession of first place in their division for the bulk of the season, leading by 8.5 games at one point. Now, with 5 games left to play, they are 2 games out of the lead and headed for the 25th straight year without a playoff appearance. What seemed like destiny has once again fizzled and flickered out over the course of the summer. I mean, if we can't make that playoffs with both the league MVP (Fielder) and the Rookie of the Year (Braun), how can we ever?

Furthermore, when did the Cubs start winning games? Why are they so damn good, all of a sudden? When did they stop being a punchline in Jay Leno monologues? What is happening to the world I used to know?

Well, at least I have the satisfaction of enjoying my currently-overachieving Green Bay Packers. Sure, my wife thinks that Brett Favre is paying the opposing teams off so he'll look good this season (possible, but not very probable), but hey, I'll take what I can get. Hell, even if they lose the next 13 games, Mike McCarthy gets arrested for beating his kids and Donald Driver shows up on To Catch A Predator with wine coolers and a wheel of condoms, I'll still think that they did better this year than they were supposed to.

Also remember that the Boston Red Sox, my Official Favorite Baseball Team, clinched themselves a playoff spot and should be losing to the Yankees right about......now.

Please explain this to me. Why do I invest so much of my personality and happiness in people that have no idea I exist? Why do I put emotional worth and schedule my life around wealthy athletes that couldn't care less what city they're playing for? In an organization where only one team out of 30 or so will win each year, doesn't it make more statistical sense to merely be a fan of the sport itself and enjoy every victory by every team? Why must boundaries and state lines get involved?

Clearly, this is what 'loser talk' sounds like. I'm currently in the 'bargaining' stage of the grief process, and I've been there for most of the summer.

Dude, just driving through Milwaukee on Monday night pissed me off. I was screaming at random passerby, vowing revenge and swearing that I would never return to the city that has caused me so much pain. Due to constant road construction, a 60 mile drive took three hours. I didn't think that was even possible until I experienced it first-hand; I had to stop at a gas station to shave halfway through.

I don't know what the deal is with that city, but it needs to get its collective crap together and stop closing three lanes of traffic during a baseball game that has 80,000 spectators. If 50,000 cars leave Milwaukee at an average speed of 5 miles an hour for a total average distance of 80 miles, that theoretically means the last car in line will never get home. Ever. They will age, wither and eventually die in their cars, as orange barrels continue to block perfectly usable and uninhabited freeway lanes.

When your favorite team sucks from the get-go, it doesn't bother you. Your defense mechanism kicks in, you graciously accept the fact that your team doesn't have a chance, and the whole thing ceases to bother you for the season. When your once beloved team goes sour and betrays you, however, things get significantly more ugly.

Look at it in relationship terms. If you have a partner that makes no excuses about their irritating personality, lackluster fashion sense and non-existent diet, it's not going to bother you too much when they talk too loud, wear mis-matched clothes and eat all day. You'll get over it, or you'll simply find another person to be happy with. However, when the sparkling, sexy and slim person-of-your-dreams starts slowly deteriorating into an embarrassing, annoying lump, it's going to hurt you for a long, long time. All this time wasted, and for what?

So, to the Milwaukee Brewers, I have one simple request for you. Win out the remainder of the season. It's the least you can do, and if it turns out to be not enough, I'll try to understand and heal. Your fans don't care if you get swept in the playoffs, we just want to be invited.

TOMORROW: THE MISSUS' CAR IS FINALLY REVEALED.

Comments:
Well...that means nothing to me...

I'v never even heard of Milwaukee, but I'm very sorry taht you're in such emotional pain.

In other news, Halo 3 came today!
Online is already guarenteed to consume my life, and I couldn't be happier.
 
I think I know what kind of car it will be.

Btw- I too am suffering because of the ineptitude of my favorite baseball team. Also, nice use of wenis in a sentence.
 
CARROT - Also, I'm sorry that I said soccer (football to you) sucked. I forgot about my International fanbase; please don't kill me.

Wait a minute...you wouldn't be able to mail me a box of Sugar Puffs, would you? With the Honey Monster on it? Ever since I visited London, I wanted to get my hands on a box, but I couldn't fly home with it. Let me know if we can work something out.

WILL - Thanks for keeping the secret for just another day-and-a-half. You are a gentleman and a scholar.

The term 'wenis' had been tossed around by yours truly once or twice back in the day, but I eventually forgot about it and settled on the standard term 'ween.' You've reminded me that it's almost impossible to see that word and not laugh your ass off. For that, I am grateful.
 
Did you just call me an "embarrassing and annoying lump"?
 
No, that would be the hedgehog.
 
Uh oh...looks like betheboy.com is having the standard godaddy problem :(
 
Why do you hate my hedgie so much?
 
That sucks. Stupid GoDaddy. Stupid Candice Michelle. Stupid Milwaukee.

That hedgehog is the embodiment of pure, unbridled evil. You can't see it, but her cage glows red at night.

Sure, it might just be the heating element, but I'm not taking any chances.
 
It all comes full circle...cosmic.

You just don't like her because she huffs up like a pufferfish every time you come near her.
 
My kingdom for a pet pufferfish.
 
Hmmmmmm...mailing Sugar Puffs?

I'll see what I can do...
 
betheboy.com is actually www.betheboy.com. He hasn't set it up to resolve to the former yet.

BTW, the thing I thought Mrs. CDP and I were gonna have in common was colour. Of course, I shan't say more.
 
I've changed the link. Thanks for the heads-up!

Oooh, I love secrets! Secretie, secretie, secrets!

My kingdom for some Sugar Puffs. Remember when they turned Honey Monster into the Sugar Puff Daddy? That was the most brilliant thing I've ever seen, ever.
 
My daddy is not a problem but I am too lazy to fix the redirect.
 
Gotcha. Lazy I can understand.
 
I don't follow baseball, so I can't really say if your Brewers are worse than our Rays. BUT - it's hockey season, so as far as I'm concerned all other sports cease to be played anyway.


That hedgie's like Talky Tina - she's going to kill you in your sleep.
 
Nice blog! Though I have to say, baseball is very painful to me. If it were not for stadium nachos, I would have never made it through the one Mallards game I acquired tickets to and thank God I did not pay $8 a piece for them.
 
MAUS - While I can somewhat agree with you on the prospect of Hockey, I can assure you that the Brewers are Better than the Devil Rays. But after what I saw last night, it's only by a little bit.

LINA - Thanks for stopping by; don't be a stranger! I haven't been out to a Mallards game yet, but I will next year!
 
I feel your pain...Cinicinnati teams have been breaking my heart for years.

Yes, I live in SC, but pull for Cinci teams...
 
Finally, the comments work again.

After the 7th inning disaster last night, I damn near put my fist through my coffee table. I swear, everything I said about baseball destroying your will to live is true.
 
I seriously don't know how someone can just get hit by a baseball and not cry like a baby.
 
Furthermore, I don't see the class in hitting a guy on purpose, either. If you try to plunk a guy on the arm and accidentally bean him in the head, you could kill him.

When Fielder got hit, I thought a bench-clearing brawl was seconds away. Then when everyone got ejected, that was pretty much the end of it.

The Padres' series starts tonight; we'll see if they can get back on track, and hope that the Cubs don't.
 
My mom thinks we should call in a bomb threat to the Cubs game.
 
Well, they've lost 2 straight games, so the more logical choice would be to call a bomb threat to the Brewers game as soon as they take a lead.

If there's a bomb threat at Miller Park tonight, I'm so gunna get arrested...
 
Yeah, I probably shouldn't have said that on the internets...what, with all the Patriot Acts and whatnot.
 
WHY ISN'T IT 6:30?
 
No kidding. We've got a car to pick up and THE OFFICE to watch!
 
Any bets on whether or not my car will be destroyed in some sort of freak accident before I even get it home tonight? It's a safe bet!!
 
The other shoe's gunna drop sooner or later, it might as well happen right away. Save us some time.
 
I can't wait to get home tonight and watch The Office premiere!

Good luck with the car!
 
The Brewers aren't allowed to lose anymore. I forbid it.
 
Thanks, JT!

I hear you, Ben. It's getting way too close for this kind of crap.
 
Three hours to get out of Milwaukee? We should have just hooked up for a drink you and could have sailed home when it cleared.
 
....NOW you tell me! Pssshhhh. :)
 
I'm a Mets fan... I thought about gashing my eyeballs out with razorblades this weekend.
 
Yeah...I think it might have been harder for you guys than it was for us Brewer fans.

I'm just glad that we were partly responsible for the Padres not making the playoffs.
 

Post a Comment

<< Home