White Sox are 7-4…..Steelhead Eats Crow

Hindsight is always 20/20 my friends.  “I told you so,” or “See! I knew it,” are revelations less shocking than “I really like blowjobs,” or saying “I’m fucking wasted,” moments before you puke a mixture of Jager and pride onto your date’s boobs.  There is no place for pussies to admit they were right in the sports world, only wrong.  Well my friends, I will live by these words.  I put down the bottle long enough this week to witness an inspired Sox team go 6-2 since my last post on them, and came to the stark realization that this team is playing much better than I anticipated.

The first person I owe an apology and big sloppy kiss to is Mr. Buehrle.  He received the brunt end of an earlier tirade on my part, and shut my ass up with the quickness, throwing a solid seven innings and giving up only 2 runs in a win against the Tigers.  Making the wrong call has never felt better, except that one I made in Reno with a dominatrix named “Helga.”

In general, the pitching has been outstanding.  Posting back to back shutouts against the World Series favorite is nothing to take lightly, and you know the Tigers headed back to that shithole city, more mad than they usually are after a road trip ends and it’s time to return.  Gavin Floyd flirting with a no-no into the wee hours of the game showed me alot.  For him to be up 1-0, and protect the lead like an old mother hen guarding her eggs, was impressive to say the least.  The kid definitely rose to the occasion, and anyone who can pitch 7 + hitless innings on a cold, rainy day can drink out of my flask anytime.

The scary thing right now is the big bats of the Sox are more frigid than Miguel Cabrera’s nipples were during that weekend series, but our boys are still scoring runs.  If Thome and Konerko can get off their ass and contribute more, this team could be the real deal.  Jimbo is nothing more than a “Sportflix” hologram out there, and needs to step up.  If Thome isn’t blowing all that $16 million on booze, hookers, or something else seedy, him and I have business, and you know it’s the shitty kind.  Paulie’s granny yesterday was a step in the right direction, and the completely relieved look on his face afterwards showed the most relaxed #14 I’ve seen since 2005.  Motherfucker almost smiled, it was touching.  I almost cried, but then realized the true root of my sadness was the empty bottle of Beam staring back at me, like an ex-girlfriend knowing she just had her last twirl with the champ.  Anyhoo, I hope that shot ignited Pauly.

All in all, I am pleasantly suprised with the results thus far.  If we can spilt with Oakland (who is to the Sox what herpes are to a dick), things are looking pretty good.  It’s too early to get excited, but if you don’t, why the fuck are you alive?????

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