Friday, April 27, 2012


I am beginning this late on Saturday, 4/21/12. I have no idea how long it will take for me to finish this (I have already smoked my medication for the evening), nor how long the endangered species that is the U.S. Postal Service will take to deliver it to my stenographer/son. Between running some errands, I've watched bits & pieces of the Yankees-Red Sox game, the film Moneyball, and the ninth inning of the Pale Sox-Mariners game where Humber pitched the 21st perfect game in MLB history. Those of you who bothered to read the title of this post can be forgiven if you thought that it referred to Humber's effort. It does not. Perfection this evening refers to current Boston manager Bobby Valentine. Valentine, a member of the Asshole Hall of Fame, has had a tough week or so. In the eyes of the LSF, however, his trials and tribulations have been just perfect. Valentine started his week of perfection by questioning the heart and hustle of his third baseman, Kevin Youkilis - a BoSox fan favorite ever since the '04 season when he helped the Beantowners win their first World Series title in six centuries. Valentine was pilloried by guys like Sal from Worcester on the sports radio call-in shows as well as by Youkilis' teammate Dustin Pedroia. Valentine might have gotten away with his ill-advised remarks if the Sox had started winning. Well, that didn't happen and I enjoyed watching the weasel squirm and make faces as the Sox continued their losing ways to, of all teams, the Yankees on the 100th Anniversary of the opening of their beloved Fenway Park. In today's game, the Boston bats exploded for nine runs and were looking like they were going to give Valentine a game without misery. The Yankees then proceeded to score fifteen unanswered runs and won the game 15-9. Perfection occurred every time Valentine walked to the mound to change pitchers. He was lustily booed by the sellout crowd at Fenway each and every time he showed his tight ass. To me, that was a perfect joy. I normally despise the Yankees as any good baseball fan from outside of their home territory should, but not today. After the nine runs they gave up, they truly became the Bronx Bombers once again with the hitting clinic they put on. One can only hope that the Yankees can continue to terrorize Valentine and his charges in tomorrow's game. After that, I would greatly enjoy it if the Yankees lost their next seven or eight in a row. That would please me. After raising the specter of one of the greatest team collapses in Philly sports history, the Flyers were able to win their opening round series with the Penguins. The LSF offers his congratulations to Flyers fans everywhere, but certainly advises against slurping gallons of orange Kool-Aid. After all, these are the Flyers and the odds are that they will forget how to skate - especially if they have to face the Rangers. So, enjoy the high while you can, but drink responsibly. Before turning my attention to the Sillies, I must remind you that the NFL Draft begins Thursday - and I am worried. Remember last year when the Lord of Lard selected a 27 year old fireman to be his new starting tackle? This guy was going to be the ultimate protection for Michael Vick - the guy who was going to be the guy who would prevent Vick from being knocked silly every time he dropped back to throw the ball. Remember how well last year's pick worked out? Danny Watkins was so pathetic that he wasn't even active for the first half of the season. Even after he began playing, he didn't exactly put on a blocking clinic, so you'll understand my apprehension about Fat Andy's judgement as we move into this year's draft. The team needs a lot of help. From safety to linebacker to both sides of the line. His Enormousness will probably go with a guy from BYU who has spent the last two years at Jewish old age homes trying to convert the residents to Mormonism on their death beds. Can you imagine trying to get an old biddy named Rivka to become a Mormon? I can't either, just as I can't imagine Andy Reid doing the right thing with the draft picks. So, you've been waiting for the Phillies bats to come alive. You've been waiting for Jim Thome to put a ball into orbit. Sorry gang, but their bats are still dead and Thome is a stellar two-for-seventeen as of the end of the Padres series. The rest of the four-headed monster hasn't comported themselves much better either. John Mayberry is now batting around .150 and doesn't look ready to make anyone forget his father. It could be a very long season. Doc & the rest of the starting five went into the Padres series leading the league with a 2.29 ERA. At the end of the series, Doc had lost his first game of the season after giving up a staggering TWO runs. Lee pitched a throwback ten innings, the team lost, and he went on the DL. Sunday saw Blanton get shellacked by a team wearing camouflage jerseys. The way the Phils are playing, the Padres could have shown up wearing thongs and the Phils would have laid down like the bums that they are. In today's Daily News, Charlie is quoted as saying that the team is "not playing well." Really? Wow, I didn't know that. Did you? Charlie's patience must be wearing thin, and I wonder how long it will be before his head explodes. No jury in Philadelphia would convict him if he beat one of the players to death with a bat in the dugout between innings. How cool would it be if, after beating two or three players, he turned on Ruben Amaro. The Diamondbacks are next for the Sillies, and the possibilities for the team to reverse their fortunes against the D-Backs do not look great. It's no wonder that the LSF is about to stop following the team much earlier than in previous season. I could be wrong. For now, however, I wouldn't bet the farm on these not-so-loveable losers. [Editor's note - This was funny to type now, after the Phils beat down Arizona.]

Monday, April 23, 2012


I have started several posts since the last one, but they all bored me - so they were destroyed. I guess I wasn't angry enough about anything to be able to even want to write. As I write tonight, I'm not really pissed off about too much, but there are some things on my mind, so let's see if I can get the job done. First Issue: The Death Of Dick Clark. Clark died today, and CNN has already done two hours of tribute. I was a nine year old kid when Clark became the host of the locally-produced Bandstand. The original host, a degenerate named Bob Horn, was arrested for drunk driving, also charged with a sex crime involving a teenage girl, and swiftly removed from the show. Why WFIL-TV would have a problem having Horn continue to host a teenage dance show, I can't imagine, but a problem they had so they hired a pristine, handsome host named Dick Clark who knew not to touch the merchandise. Now, back then, Bandstand was a huge thing. Everyone watched it including my mother, who would get her ironing done while watching it on our four channel black & white cabinet TV. I found this out the hard way when I was grounded after she saw me dancing after she had forbid me from going anywhere near the studio. Clark had a way about him. He knew how to promote records and artists, and I always looked forward to watching the artists of the day lip-sync to their hits. Clark took career risks by booking black artists to appear on the show. In the late 1950s, that just wasn't done. The first time I saw Motown artists was on Bandstand. If you were good, he booked you, regardless of what race you were. As for being a dancer on the show, whites only. Apparently, seeing black and white kids dancing together was just too much for Americans' always delicate sensibilities to handle and Dick Clark played it safe in that regard. But then, Clark too the advice of Horace Greely and went West! He left Philly and took Bandstand to Los Angeles. He left Philly much in the same way that the Colts left Baltimore or the way the Giants and the Dodgers left NY. For leaving the way he did, I will never forgive him and believe he should do time playing in the flames of a personal hell where he is forced to listen to a continuous loop of Herman's Hermits' greatest hits. Second Issue: The Death Of The Phillies 2012 Season I've been holding off commenting on our hometown nine until now. Sure, I've expressed a few opinions, but I've tried to follow Oddball's mantra of not giving off negative waves (If you don't know who Oddball is, you need to stay home from work and watch Kelly's Heroes sometime very soon), but the negative waves have nevertheless crashed upon the shores of any hopes I still held onto. I know that the season is still young. I know that our starting pitching is excellent. I know that many believe that once Utley & Howard come back all will be well. I also know that a certain percentage of the Phillies fandom are either addicted to alcohol or drugs, but I'm here to tell you that all will not be well. The 2012 edition of the Phillies is not going anywhere. They will not make the playoffs. They will not win the division. They may end up with the lowest batting average in baseball. They can't hit and without hitting they can't score. Get ready for a season filled with games like the debacle seen Wednesday night when Lee shut out the Giants for 10 innings only to see the team lose it in extra innings. Those of you who believe all will be well once Howard & Utley return are drinking red Kool-Aid laced with LSD. Howard will strike out every third at bat and will become a major liability in the field. How do I know that? Gee, let me see. Players coming back from a torn Achilles tendon usually tend to lose some mobility, and the "Big Piece" was never better than adequate in the field to begin with. I can't wait to see what he does the first time someone bunts to his position. As for his power at the plate, Howard hit some HR's for sure, but what makes anyone think he won't be swinging at bad pitches? That's what the guy does. I've love to have a dollar for every low (very low) and outside pitch he has swung at during his career, and I have no reason to believe he'll come back with the discipline needed to avoid continuing to do the same. The only think that I know will improve for Howard is the amount on his paystub. Chase Utley will break your hearts as well. When he does come back, his timing will be off, his knees will be suspect, and his range on defense will be lacking. Utley is yesterday's news. He has given us many fine memories, but so have the Temptations. Their oldies are superb, but the next "My Girl" isn't coming our way. Watching a highlight film of Utley's greatest hits is all well and good, but there won't be any new clips added to that DVD anytime soon. When Utley does come back, what do you do with Galvis? The kid is raw, but he has shown me the potential to become a fine second baseman, and he needs to play everyday if he is ever going to fulfill that potential. Every at bat Utley gets will only serve to retard the development of the kid. If I were King Of The World, I would make Utley rehab for the entire season, eat his money, and let him retire with some dignity. That won't happen, but it should. Writing this post is depressing, but trust me - it's about to get worse. I have no choice but to move on to the four-headed monster. Yes, boys and girls, Ruben has provided us with four interchangeable guys who have shown no ability to hit with any consistency and whose fielding skills are suspect at best. The first head on the monster is Laynce Nix, who looks like he has been cloned from Ross Gload and a bucket of steroids. Number two is Ty Wigginton, who should obviously never play third again - ever. How scary is it that he is actually one of the better performers in the Phillies lineup? Number three is Pete Orr, who has yet to show me anything but futility whenever he touches a bat. Lastly, is a former great who is now finished. Not only can't Jim Thome get the bat around any more, he has show signs of Howard's disease, also known as lowandoutsideitis. There is no known cure for this condition. Basically, with all of the above stellar performers, I have to give this week's Bum Of The Week Award to the four-headed monster. Accepting the award for the monster is Brian Schneider. Schneider may become the fifth head for his offensive performance, but he plays his position acceptably well for now. Since I'm the mood to see some hitting, I've been watching a lot of Rangers games. It turns out that there are some teams that can hit.

Wednesday, April 11, 2012


Can you imagine how bad you would feel if your team scored twelve runs and lost? Pretty fucking bad - especially if you Bobby Valentine and managine the BoSox, who did just that. There must be a God, because the Bean Towners not only managed to lose a game where they put up a dozen, they start the season 0-3 after a three game bitch-slapping at the hands of the Tigers.

You can perhaps sense that I don't care for Mr. Valentine. For those who can't sense it, I'll try to use one syllable words where possible. Valentine is a smug, egotistical asshole who assumes that his opinion ends all conversation on any matter. Valentine is a hard ass with a very tight sphincter, and watching the veins on his forehead literally explode in anger would be a joy to behold.

Shit, I would go to Temple for three weeks if the Sawx could manage to exceed the Orioles record for consecutive losses to open a season (I think it's 21). Get this, the last time I was in a Temple was 20 years ago when Scott had his Bar Mitzvah. So, God must want the Red Sox to keep on losing.

So, wanting to see Major Leaguers actually hit, I watched the Tigers 10-0 win on Saturday against B.V.'s Sox. What a joy it was to see Cabrera and Fielder both go deep twice. These boys are as serious as a stroke (I should know), and we need to get Comcast to broadcast their games instead of the Phillies. I mean, so far, all of their guys look like Ross Gload, especially Nix who may actually be Gload. At least, he hits just like him and looks about as intelligent.

Is it for real? Yes, the Motown Maulers are for real, and it isn't just the new Bash Brothers. Calm down, I'm not saying that Prince Fielder's on steroids. Steroid users don't look like they eat all of their meals at Old Country Buffet. The Tigers also happen to have a very interesting pitching staff, made better by virtue of getting some serious run support.

You may have also notice that the Yankees also got off to an 0-3 start, having been swept by the Rays. So far, I'm loving the start of the season and it gets better with the same 0-3 start for the Braves, who I have hated for longer than most of you have been alive.

My only complaint about the 0-3 start by the Braves is that it means that the Mets are 3-0. The thought of the Mets being in first place EVER is almost as repulsive to me as the visual of Seaumus The Dog shitting all over the roof of Mitt Romney's station wagon on a family outing (rich people don't take trips, they have outings).

I should count my blessings for a great week in sports. Head football coach Bobby Petrino had a motorcycle accident early in the week and had a somewhat less than truthful explanation to the law and to his bosses at Arkansas about it. Petrino didn't care to disclose that he had a 25 year old employee of the athletic department riding with him. He claimed that he wanted to protect the lady and her family from speculation about their relationship. Such a gentleman! Petrino, who is married and in his fifties, later acknowledged that his relationship with the employee was, well, more than professional and was suspended without pay for trying to cover up the relationship. It's always the cover up that nails the perp, not the crime. However, given that Petrino has turned around a moribund program, I suspect that he'll pull a "Jimmy Swaggart" and will be reinstated so that the Razorback band may play on.

The hits just keep on coming at Augusta this weekend at the annual Bigots-Are-Us Golf Tournament, also known as the Masters (pronounced "Massuhs). Although they have allowed black members since 1990 (after caving into pressure from the PGA) and no longer REQUIRE all caddies to be black, Augusta National still maintains their long standing policy of not allowing women to be members. Over the years, there have been several challenges to this policy, but all have failed. IBM has been a long time sponsor of the Masters and it has been customary to offer membership to its CEO. IBM has recently elected a female CEO. Oops! When asked at the pre-event press conference if the club would offer IBM's new boss a membership, the current Grand Wizard of the club refused comment and changed the subject. The LSF has learned that the lady was nominated for membership. I doubt if it will happen. If turned down, she should drop IBM's sponsorship of the event. The last time this issue was in the news, the club payed the Masters without corporate sponsors rather than join the 21st Century. I suspect they will do so again before allowing a woman to join.

As promised, I have selected my AL team for the 2012 Season. In the running were such perennial no-hopes as the Mariners and the Orioles. Both teams have no shot this season, but as a long time fan of the Birds, I was leaning towards selecting the Mariners. Teams I select have a first class ticket to last place. Teams I select are normally plagued with injuries and will be so bad that mediocrity would be a blessing.

I was about to pick the losers from Seattle until last night when watching Baseball Tonight. To my horror, the Orioles were wearing the hats from the '70s & '80s - a tri-color style with the white front, the orange bill, and the black back. That the current team is wearing this uniform is a sacrilege to the great Oriole squads of the past. The hat worked when it sat atop Eddie Murray's afro, but doesn't cut it when sitting on the head of any of the current crop of losers. It also looked a hell of a lot better on Earl Weaver than it does on Buck Showalter.

So, despite my lifetime of love for the Orioles, I am so offended by the wearing of this uniform that I have selected the Angel-O's as my AL team for 2012. Yes, I know they start the season 3-10. I don't care. They are now destined to once again lurk in the cellar for the fifth consecutive season. Go Orioles!

That's it for now, as I await the home opener against the Marlins. I have cut the Phillies offense some major slack in this screed, but have no fear - my venom is aging like a fine wine and will be appearing at a blog near you very soon. Don't worry, Freddy Galvis will eventually get his first hit, and so will Nix.

Where is Wilson Valdez when you need him?

Friday, April 6, 2012

Like It Or Not - The Ty, Freddy, & Laynce Era Is Here!

The Long Suffering Fan is back after six months on the disabled list.

During my time on the sidelines, we've endured a season of Another Great Job by Fat Andrew, an exciting young Sixers team, and a Flyers team that people I know who watch the sport tell me is doing okay. The LSF, as you may remember, will not watch any sport that only plays three quarters.

But, all of the above is only what we pay attention to when baseball isn't being played. Well, during the coming week, umpires throughout the land will say, "Play ball," and I am ecstatic! The Candy-Stripers are heading north and you actually WILL need a scorecard to figure out who this group of Phillies are. Here we go again.

I'll get the good news out first. The Phillies will have, if not the best, than at least one of the best two or three pitching staffs in MLB. If Worley continues to get better and if Blanton can, well, just be Blanton, there won't be too many long losing streaks.

I like the bullpen as well. Papelbon is an upgrade at the closer spot. The guy is more than a little crazy, and that isn't a bad thing in a closer. I feel bad for Madson, but good for his Tommy John surgeon, and good for the fact that the Phillies won't be paying him to convalesce. Kendrick, Stutes, Bastard, and Qualls should all be fine, and probably so will Herndon and Savery. We hope.

Charley needs the Aces to come up real big, because the team is going to suck big time at the plate. Stop groaning and understanding something. Being real and telling the truth is not the same thing as being negative. The LSF does not drink red Kool-Aid. I don't care what Amaro says. I don't care what the local writers say. I don't care what MLB Network pundits say. I tell it like I see it, and what I see gives me cause for concern.

Let's look at the line-up.

We start the season with Who on first, Nobody on second, and a couple of brittle old men rounding out the infield. We have Freddy Galvis on 2B who needs a whole lot more AAA AB's before I get on his bandwagon. Raise your hands if you think Thome, Wigginton, and whoever will make me forget Ryan Howard (and I'm pretty fucking far from longing for Ryan Howard). The outfield could be decent and maybe better than that if Mayberry can play like he did during the second half of last season. I have no problem with Chooch, so long as he stays healthy. If not, maybe Schneider will be able to outhit his weight. The offense will struggle to score, and the rest of the division (sans Mets) has improved, so my best advice is to hold off on buying Kool-Aid futures.

As you may recall, I like to adopt a long-shot basement-dweller as my honorary favorite team each season. In 2010, it was the Royals. Last year, it was the Pirates This season, I will choose two teams. I will adopt the Astros as my National League team. My American League pet team will be revealed in my next posting. I'll also be awarding a Bum Of The Week citation to the Phillie who sucked the most during the previous week. I'll start now with my Bum Of The Spring Award. It goes to Chase Utley for once again blowing off spring training and probably April, May, & June. He'll also start the season on the MLB Top Ten Stealers Of Paychecks.

Hoping to piss some of you off, I'll also be talking a lot more about politics. Here's a preview. If you are a Republican, you either have lost your soul or your mind. There are no other choices. If you believe Mitt Romney to be authentic, I will have a car salesman at your house tomorrow. If you see nothing wrong with how Willard Romney made his money, you either don't know what vulture capitalists do, or you think Scrooge wasn't so bad of a fella before those liberal pussy ghosts got a hold of him. Then, of course, there is Rick Santorum, who would like to go medieval on women, blacks, & most others. I've voted against this Neo-Nazi asshole three times already, I may even change my registration so I can vote against him in the upcoming Republican primary. Lastly, if anybody has compromising photos of Eric Cantor or Paul Ryan, please contact me immediately.