LAMBO: FIRST BLUNT PART TWO

This news is a few days old but I have to say something about it. Andrew Lambo, a possibly future left fielder when Manny departs, judging by the incredible season he was having in AA Chatanooga thus far, was suspended for 50 games for violating Major League Baseball's drug policy. I admit that when I heard the news I figured it was Steroids because why would players today do something cool like LSD? Or if they popped pills like in the days of yore, we'd have a Willie Stargell instead of an Alex Rodriguez. And wouldn't that be terrible?
Anyhow, a stoned friend of mine corrected my assumption by saying, mid-inhale, "Naw, bro. He was getting high on bud."

Despite the obvious bummer, the setback, the mindless backlash on his career, at least it wasn't steroids or I don't know...date rape, manslaughter, shit like that. I also learned from my fellow burnout that it wasn't his first incident with something like this. Joe Torre, Mariano Duncan and Larry Bowa have probably hit a baseball in the past, thinking it was a slow and glorious ball of strange energy that found its way from the infinite universe to enter the confines of this world only to be carried away with a Louisville slugger...

...What I mean is, while most people either understand personally or generally don't give a fuck if people smoke dope, the squares in the front office are never going to understand something like this. They're function is to make cattle out of men and force poor communities to pay for baseball stadium-shopping malls. So Lambo, you fucked up and shouldn't have. But if you make it to the Bigs, me and my friends will superficially buy your jersey. We like your style.
I just feel bad that you had to get busted with the resin of shitty Tennessee weed in your stream. You actually have time to go back to Cali, get loaded on chronic and then you'll have the rest of your suspension time to flush it out, camp out in a batting cage and await your day in the sun.

...the perilous ascension from the bowels of mediocrity...

When you get down to it, the worst part about this season thus far is not their shit play and dismal record. That's the second worst thing. The primary cause of the Dodger fan's suicidal thoughts should be that there have been so many goddamn away games. And while there is no excuse to lose all your games to shitty teams, it's even more eye gauging that we haven't been able to hear Vin call any games. Most teams in our division have had an outstanding home stand or two. We've just begun. While I banned last night due to their stellar play last week, I think I will finally be able to listen to the voice of Vin Scully. Our honorary saint. When they were at home last, I had gone to Opening Day and then was out of town for the rest of the week.
So tonight it's just me and Vin and a bluntwrap or two. It's up to Carlos Monasterios who I really want to like so, Don't fuck it up Carlos.

And as far as the offense goes...Hey assholes...remember when you bowed down to the mighty pitching of the Washington Nationals? Well, these guys are even worse. Inexcusable, bros.

Let's Get Radical

(May Day. Ruthless times. The racist assault on our country and culture has openly seeped into Major League Baseball. And for good reason since struggle and plight has always been woven and forged into the people's fabric that is sports in America.)

Take it to the streets. It's time to eradicate these culprits. We know where they are and how they feel. This isn't isolated inside the confines of that police state. Racism in general and this neo-fascist ignorance in particular thrives on the division and perpetual conquest of the working class. The truth is always deliberately suffocated. Money and might, courtesy of the U.S., are used to displace people in other countries in the name of capitalism, (rural conquest, drug war, maquilas) and the people who flee out of desperation and necessity are blamed and fucked even further. And now, it's open season for an unprecedented assault.
Since racists don't know how to think(their brains are full of naziworms and diarrhea,)I want to run a few scenarios by them...

One. A crew-cutted pig pulls somebody over for driving under the influence of brown skin, which they've always done but now can do legally,and the driver who has lived in Arizona his entire life, longer than the pig who transferred from Iowa, but is told to show paper work and then "What's that smell? Cigarettes my ass, wetback, I'm searching the car." Any reason to incarcerate and destroy.

Two. What about immigrants from Europe? Does that mean that some backwards cap, Ed Hardy motherfucker drinking Coors Light and dateraping co-eds at A.S.U. might just look like a German or an Irishman? I mean, the light complexion, the blue eyes, freckles... "We better run ask him for his paperwork, Skip."

Three. The first time a Maricopa County SS soldier pulls over an Pima or a Navajo or an Apache and accuses them of being an immigrant. Ignorant fucking scum.

It's a call to genocide for all undocumented people in this country and a blow to any American citizen who is now doomed with connotation to this behavior until we work to together to fuck their plans up good.


Now on to baseball...
While the Player's Union isn't the radical bastion I wish it could be, I'm happy they openly oppose this horrible law in Arizona. All the attention that it is getting in sports, especially concerning the Arizona D-Back boycott is necessary and will hopefully lead to an exacerbated consciousness in the otherwise mind numbing universe that front-page sports media usually is.

Call to arms. Words like bullets. Blood on the page. Let's roll suckas.

-Smoke dope, put in the clip, play ball.

Do all the drugs you can

Fuck sailing. This ship is sinking.

And sinking.

And sinking.

Rock bottom could be losing to the worst fucking team of the last decade and a half, while at home...nothing more needs to be said. It's not a "skid" as they lightly put it. It's a horrid shit stain. Tomorrow they will lose to a pitcher with an earned run average that's a disgusting pubic hair over sixteen. Sixteen! And they will lose. They really keep outdoing themselves. At this point I can only be entertained by how much worse it can get. I'm saying fuck it. And fuck them. If anyone reads this, expect weather reports and shitty poetry. This baseball thing is a metastasizing tumor on my goddamn soul.

Sinking.

And sinking.

And sinking.

NIGHT TERROR

had this dream last night where I traveled around some small town that had one of those dead relics called main street, void of a jamba juice or a taco bell, it was a vague and murky setting but i was wandering around with some faceless friend of mine and who do I see but right-handed Dodger pitcher hiroki kuroda, this year's ace on the eve of a pitching duel with johan santana and hiroki, he's being lead around by this well-to-do white woman and i walk up to him and say what's up, my dumbfounded excitement under a thin veil and my bro's goin' off about how he's the man, etc. and kuroda smiles and says hello and whispers to the white woman, something i assumed was for her to translate to us since kuroda looked happy to see us and speaks japanese but the woman kind of whispers back to him in muffled japanese and looks at us menacingly and says, we have to go and she grabs his arm and they recede into the end of the night and the dream and the world and me and my friend, we wander into this antique shop where they have an array of antique revolvers and we're insulted by the elderly proprietor but i'm not sure why or i don't remember what the fuck he said and that was it.

in an ignorant analysis, i say that hiroki kuroda is going to pitch a no-hitter in new york but some rich white lady will lead him astray and turn it all to shit. maybe she's the bullpen or maybe she's david wright. i don't know. all i can say concerning my relationship with baseball these days is, "stay the fuck out of my dreams!" At least allow my mind some hours to recover from the shit you've stained it with. please and thank you, amen.

spring training

so now the offense sucks too. what a bunch of goddamn losers. not worth another word today. good luck in new york and with the rest of your season. by summer, i might start hitting crack pipes to ease the pain and frustration. fun times for all.

Somebody give these motherfuckers some steroids

It feels like October. The weather is cooling down, a chance of rain, a pleasant caress of the wind enveloped in the glorious changing of the seasons and also, I want to cut my wrists with an broken beer bottle. But it's not October. It's April. Real nice. I keep exaggerating about how much this season sucks so far and before any loved one or stranger on the street can tell me to shut the fuck up, the game rolls along and I'm excruciatingly correct in my disgust. I don't want to be right. I want these losers to stop melting down against a shitty team. These assholes can make a Big Red Machine out of anybody so far...the Pirates, Reds and soon...the Washington Nationals. Can't wait to see more players I've never heard of score go-ahead runs in the 8th inning. So far, besides that bullshit loss to the Giants, every loss has been a bullpen blunderfuck while wasting a shitload of runs. Pretty soon, these dudes and their bats are going to say fuck it. This is beyond problematic at this point. It's just annoying and somehow worse than a regular loss. Everyday is the same. Usually, the great thing about baseball is its unpredictability. Even if your team sucks, you never really know how it'll go down, day to day. Well, so far this year I know how it's gonna go. Unless we score 14 runs, we're fucked. Can't wait to lose to the Nationals. Think of all the people coming home from ten hours of doing shit for some rich asshole and turning on the game to escape the madness for a moment or two and...well, nevermind. Go ahead and kill yourself, workingman. I want to feel like an asshole and be proven wrong but every day feels a little more fixed and a little more ridiculous.