May 28, 2009

Land of the Losses

My last post was too optimistic.

I'll never make that mistake again.

The team has been terrible since that six-game winning streak. I don't care if you have the best stopper in the game. That doesn't matter if you lose three or four games between every Greinke start.

Oil and water have returned to their proper positions. The Royals are biffing plays left and right, sputtering on offense, losing the games that count, accidentally spitting in umpires' eyes... really, only one analogy works for the past few weeks.

The Royals are a freaking dog. For the first five weeks, they seemed healthy, fun, excitable. You were in love with your new pet. Sure it had some fleas and some bad habits, but it was a good dog.


Now the new dog smell has worn off and the dog fart smell has permeated the metropolitan area. The dog's anal glands are leaking. Bad pitching. Bad hitting. Bad defense. They are dragging their collective asses on the ground and spreading the ass juice all over the field. Don't believe me? Watch Jose Guillen try to field right.

And after the glands are done leaking, this dog is furiously licking at the stain, licking it until it's gone and then licking the empty spot until you smack it with a rolled-up magazine.

I know this is a pretty technical analogy. I'm sorry this blog has gotten so highbrow.

Here's a diagram to help explain what I'm saying:

That's the Royals right now. A wall-eyed dog slurping up its own anal leakage until something snaps it out of its trance. Unfortunately, that something doesn't appear to be Greinke.

He's on track for the Cy Young, and yet the team's record isn't much different from last year.

They have to turn this around. Otherwise, we're in for a horribly disappointing year. What could fix this? What could resolve this problem?

I think we all know the answer, though we are afraid to admit it.

The Royals



That's it.

That's the solution.

They need to pretend it's the opening sequence from The Last Boy Scout or the closing sequence of The Naked Gun, and they need to cap some bitches.

I don't normally advocate violence, but what other choice does this team have?

Instead of shooting themselves in the foot, the Royals could shoot their opponents.

Instead of throwing gopher balls, Horacio Ramirez could throw bullets.

Instead of meekly grounding into double plays, Miguel Olivo could commit some double homicides.

Instead of sucking ass, Coco Crisp could smoke some ass.

Instead of George Brett dropping F-Bombs, he could drop carpet bombs on the visitor's clubhouse.

Instead of eating their own dookie, the Royals could eat the other teams' babies.

And now it's official.

The satire has reached Jonathan Swift levels (without the humor or logic and with many more references to poop for some reason), so I'll just close with the following:

I hate May. The month. The Darrell. The crapitude.

I hate it.

But it's almost over.

So yeah. Keep your heads up, true believers.

I was joking about the murdering, the killing, the eating of the small children, the conspiracy to commit criminal acts via an anonymous blog.

Ha ha.

Ha ha ha.

Funny, right?



Ahem. At least something good has come from this; for any of the Royals promotional staff reading, consider this: Willie Bloomquist Free Derringer Giveaway Night = Sure Sellout.


How many days until the next Greinke start?

Go Royals! You're the Best!

May 13, 2009

We're going streaking!

Hey, gang! Long time no post, huh?

Well, to be fair, there wasn't a whole lot of negativity to share. After a solid April, May has been a tale of two streaks.

Beginning May 2, the Royals went on a nice run. They were winning games that they should have and games that they should not have won. The pitching was fantastic. The hitting was timely. Billy Butler learned how to play first. Ponson made the most of his final start. They were getting more national coverage than they've received in over a decade. Suddenly, the Royals were 6-1 in May and stood at 18-11 overall. They were at the top of the Central and close to the top of the league.

Then they went to California, home of wildfires, earthquakes, retarded beauty queens, a thriving pornography industry, the worst schools in the country, Manny injecting Manny, and a $21.3 billion budget deficit. All that, and the star of Commando running the show.

(It's not all bad of course. In-n-Out Burger, wine country, giant Redwoods, a thriving pornography industry...)

But I digress. California is where things started going wrong. Zack Greinke threw a one-run complete game but was somehow outpitched. Miguel Olivo, Jamey Wright, and Jose Guillen combined to give a game away in less than three minutes. Luke Hochevar shat the bed against the worst offensive team in the league. It's four straight losses now, and a little negativity is creeping back.

The Royals have some problems. Not as many as in years past, of course, and this doesn't seem like the beginning of one of those famous Royals fourteen-game losing streaks, but now that we're over thirty games into the season, there are three players to be concerned about:

1) Joakim Soria. It hasn't really hurt the team so far, but the higher-ups were pretty cagey about putting the kid on the DL, with statements coming out that there was nothing wrong with him at all. Now they are saying a partial tear. He doesn't need any surgery, apparently. Let's just hope this isn't one of those lingering things.

2) Mike Aviles needs demoted. He doesn't look comfortable in the box this year. Let him figure it out in Omaha.

3) David DeJesus needs, well, not demoted, but kicked in the ass at least. He's killing rallies left and right in the two hole.

Really, that's a pretty short list of concerns for six weeks into the season. I'm confident they'll snap out of it soon. With a sellout coming up this Friday at the K, the future of the team is looking good. 

The biggest problem right now is probably California.

Let's just get them the hell out of there.

Go Royals! You're the Best!

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