johan2Good morning Jerks! May I start off today thanking Tatis for the gift of gifts that is Johan Santana. Really, thank you. If it wasn’t for him, I would have gone on a 12 state killing spree. The Mets are on a 3 game winning streak. That is their longest of the year. Soak it in. Are you still soaking? You are? Great. Consider your self drenched in that information. Anywho, Johan was the fucking tits and ass and dick sucking lips last night. 7 innings, 2 hits, 10Ks. He was going to come out for the 8th but Jerry Manuel decided an ice cold Ryan Church was a better hitting option with first and third and 2 outs than Johan. I tend to disagree. Johan can hit. He is also your best option for the 8th. But that all worked out for good old Jerry as the Mets won 1-0. The run was unearned as the all mighty Tatis hit a 70 foot slow roller to third that Pedro Feliz should have eaten but instead threw 120 feet down the first base line which allowed the very slow Carlos Delgado, who is nursing a hip injury, to score from first. The Jayson Werth triple clutch on the throw home was the cherry on top of that all together awful display of baseball. That was it. Frankie Rodriguez did what he normally doesn’t do, get a 1-2-3 save. So all in all, a win over Philly is a fantastic thing.

My problem is still with the offense. The Mets made Chan Ho Park look like a worthy opponent for the Great Santana. David Wright was not driving in runners in scoring position. Delgado looks like a giant turd at the plate. Beltran finally went hitless for the first time in 17 games. Reyes continued to be horrendous. Daniel Murphy looked sexified as he does his best Mark Grace impression at the plate. This is becoming a theme. Beltran and Murphy are the offense. Everyone else stands around. If Beltran and Murphy don’t hit, this team does nothing. They needed a 70 foot hit and error to score a run on a night when Chan Ho Park started. He threw 6 scoreless innings. He let up one hit. One fucking hit. Uncle Cholly pulled him for a pinch hitter for no reason. Really, this rivalry is great, but I will say that it is not baseball at it’s best. Well, it is when Johan Santana does his thing. You know what’s scary? Johan has not pitched his best yet. He is walking guys. Three last night. When Johan gets rolling, he is good for 8 innings and 105 pitches. He is not quite there yet. I think we may be watching his signature season. I hope his teammates don’t make it meaningless.

On to last night’s happenings:

Mets 1 Phillies 0: Not only did they beat Philly, they DL’d Ollie Perez instead of keeping his stupid ass in the Bullpen. Really, a wonderful night in the Helmet household.

Indians 9 Red Sux 2: Carl Pavano beat the Red Sox. May every Red Sox player, fan, family member, front office member, ticket taker, groundskeeper, concession stand worker, supporter, pink hat wearer, Klan member and all lovers of Boston and/or White People, hang their collective heads in shame. That means you Hef.

Braves 8 Marlins 6: Derek Lowe went 5 innings and allowed 6 runs for the win. Emilio Bonifacio went 0-5. Both of these teams are some sort of awful. Really, they stink terribly. Do I have to break it down even more?

Penguins 3 Capitals 2 (OT): Alex Ovechkin had a goal and an assist. Evgeni Malkin also had a goal and an assist. Sidney Crosby had 2 assists including one to set up Kris Letang’s overtime winner. After the game it was reported none of these teams filed for Chapter 11.

Hurricanes 3 Bruins 2 (OT): Boston continued to take it in thier collective asses as the Bs lost in OT. First Carl Pavano and now Jussi Jokinen*? Keep hanging your heads, Man Lovers.

Celtics 112 Magic 94: The winner of this series gets swept by LeBron. Not the Cavaliers, just LeBron. 1 on 5. Since he is beastly. So put that in your pipe and smoke it Boston. I am sure the smoke fumes will be even harsher with your heads hung from the Pavano and Jokinen embarrassments.

*I have no idea who he is so losing to him is bad. /Book of Factual Things

burnt

I don’t know much about basketball, but this must not be Rashard Lewis’s finest moment.

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