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Posted by at 4:01 pm ET 5 Comments

Since our Fearless Leader is too busy gloating over his latest reproductive success (show off), I’ve decided to take time out of my “busy” day and riff on this latest news…

Over a couple of plates’ worth of the “Early Bird Special” at Old Country Buffet, GM Ruben Amaro, Jr. and venerable pitcher Jamie “Hey! What The Hell Are These Kids Doing On My Lawn? Oh, They’re My Teammates?” Moyer agreed to a 2-year deal that will keep Moyer in red pinstripes until he’s old enough to have Willard Scott wish him “Happy Birthday” on the air.

Since Moyer’s arrival in 2006, the Phillies are 46-28 when he (very slowly) takes the mound.

You know, I make a lot of “old man” jokes at his expense, but there is no doubt whatsoever in my mind that Jamie Moyer could easily kick my ass with a smile on his face and a song in his heart.

That song? “Camptown Races,” written when Moyer was just a wee lad. Ba-ZING!

Posted by at 6:06 pm ET 10 Comments

2005: “It’s all over now, SUCKERS! Look who we just signed!”


(83-79; 3rd place in NL East)

2006: “World Championship, here we come!”


(97-65; lost NLCS in seven games to the 83-win St. Louis Cardinals)

2007: “We don’t need new blood this year. We can beat you with what we’ve got!”

(88-74; lost the division in final game)

2008: “Hey, Phillies: it’s PAYBACK TIME, bitches!”


(89-73; blew 3.5 game lead with 17 remaining)

2009: “And this year, we MEAN it!”


(Way in which New York eventually fucks it up TBD.)

Posted by at 9:42 am ET 6 Comments

The 700 Level reports that the Phillies have added catcher Ronny “Big Fat” Paulino to the roster. This makes them three-deep at the catcher position, and speculation now is that Coste may soon become part of a trade package.

Meanwhile, the Mets continue to bolster their bullpen with the addition of J.J. Putz. His new job will be to hold down the lead in save opportunities until Francisco Rodriguez can come out in the ninth inning to deliver the killing blow. (I can’t wait to see how they screw this up.)

Along with David Wright, this means New York will now have two Putzes in the dugout for 2009.

Posted by at 11:23 am ET 16 Comments


Yesterday the Associated Press published a team-by-team breakdown of playoff moneys distributed after the 2008 postseason. As one might expect, the Phillies made out like fucking bandits, and rightfully so. Let’s just say Ryan Howard and Chase Utley are free to buy ten times their weight in $5 foot-longs and male lubricant, respectively.

Money can't buy you happiness, but it can buy you some kick-ass shades.For winning the World Series (pardon me a moment: EEEYEEEAAAH!), the Phillies get to split over $18 million from the players’ pool, which is cash collected from playoff gate receipts.

(Here’s something I did not know: Any team that finishes second in their division but does not earn a wild card is also entitled to a percentage of the players’ pool. So there you go, Mets: Enjoy your half-million dollar consolation prize! Why not treat yourselves to some polish for those nice new ballpark seats?)

With each full share coming to $351,504.48, our local heroes find themselves suddenly flush with some extra cash to blow, and just in time for the holidays!

While cleverly posing as a student reporter from a local college (Note to Larry Shenk: The University of the Arts newspaper doesn’t even HAVE a sports section, sucker!), I posed a question to several players and coaches asking them what they would do with the money. Here are just a few of their responses:

Shane Victorino: Invest in whatever it was Lenny Dykstra was talking about.

Eric Bruntlett: Buy 351,504 scratch-and-win lottery tickets. With that many, you’re bound to win something!

Joe Blanton: A full course of Jenny Craig meals. (Blanton: “Come to think of it, I should buy and eat twice as much, so I can lose weight that much faster.”)

Brad Lidge: Hiring a skywriter to fly over Albert Pujols’ home for a week continually writing, “SUCK IT.”

Matt Stairs: Wondering what the fuck he’s going to do with the equivalent of $10 in Canada.

If you think you know how some of our Fightin’ Phils should/will spend their playoff shares, feel free to elaborate in the Comments section.

Posted by at 2:52 pm ET 30 Comments

This, quite frankly, is a fucking disgrace.

No disrespect to Lou Piniella, but are we supposed to accept the fact that the manager of a team that won 97 games in the regular season — second most in either league –, and then proceeded to get swept by a team coming out of the worst division in baseball, is the best in the National League? Really?

To put it mildly, bullshit.

Charlie Manuel guided a Phillies team to their first 90-win season since 1993 and second consecutive division championship. Then, once in the playoffs — and here’s the big difference between Manuel and Piniella — his team did not get swept by an 84-win team in the first round.

Quite the opposite, in fact: the Phillies lost only one game in each round of the playoffs, which means that to the Baseball Writers Association of America, 0-3 is better than 11-3. Uh-huh. Mmmmmmm-hm.

Hey, BBWAA: You’re a gaggle of fucking morons, and you have ceded any and all credibility in the eyes of anyone who has a clue about what qualifies as Manager of the Year. Turn in your beer guts and hemorrhoids.

Posted by at 11:52 am ET 26 Comments

Why, look at you, Mr. Eskin, guzzling that Dom Perignon!


Yeah, I’ll bet that champagne tastes real good, doesn’t it? Well, I hope you leave some room in that raspy gullet of yours, ‘cuz guess what’s heading down there next?


Boom, shorty. You’re about to go from champagne to REAL pain.

Now, I may just be a simple-minded country bumpkin (who happened to win a championship the other day), but I’m pretty sure I recollect you saying the following about my boys…

Chase Utley: “Doesn’t play good enough defense to be an everyday 2nd baseman.”

Shane Victorino: A “bum?”

You smug little fuzzy-faced sumbitch. You thought in all this hoopla I’d forget about my standing invitation to swing your raggedy ass around my office and use you like a Swiffer rag? I’m gonna treat you like one o’ them washy-washy girls back in Osaka, except you ain’t getting a tip when it’s over.

Here’s a riddle for you: What has two thumbs and won a goddamned trophy? >>THIS GUY.<< Who’s a moron now, Chief?

I’ll be in my office, waiting. You best not bitch out this time. HEY! Anybody got a can opener? This whoop-ass won’t open itself.

Posted by at 2:47 pm ET 7 Comments

Tonight will be the night it all goes away. The frustration, humiliation and anger. Gone. Twenty-five years demolished in three beautiful innings. Nine outs and one run: That’s all it will take.

Don’t be afraid to be think positive. This is OUR night. This is our turn at redemption.


We among the faithful have been led by conniving outsiders to believe that this drought is somehow our doing, that it’s our fault. Bullshit. And tonight will prove them all wrong.

Believe. Go Phils.

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Posted by at 11:04 am ET 2 Comments


“OK, who wants a drumstick? Sally? Joe? Tom? Wait, that’s three people for only two drumsticks! How should I handle this?”


Read more »

Posted by at 9:50 am ET 1 Comment

If anything unites Philly and Tampa Bay fans right now, it’s the notion that Bud Selig is a certified moron.

The only thing missing from his — oh, let’s call it “reason” — for letting this game continue until just after the Rays tied the game (which was past the point when this game could have gone into the books as official) was this gesture:


Selig didn’t want the deciding game of the World Series to be determined by what insurance companies call a “force majeure.” He just decided that this weekend, and made up a rule on the spot to that effect. Wow. I wish I had god-like powers, too.

So what do we, the angry and confused, take away from this debacle? First, the cons:

  • The twits officiating this game (and they have indeed proven their twittishness time and time and time again) could have stopped this game before the Rays tied it up. These men all apparently grew up in Cambodia, where monsoons far worse than last night’s downpour fail to prevent the locals from enjoying a nice game of “Landmine Dodgeball.”
  • The Rays have new life. Not much, but more than they had going into the start of Game 5. Hamels was a beast, and despite the Phillies once again stranding runners in scoring position it looked as if they had the upper hand.
  • When John Oates had to fill in for an under-the-weather Darryl Hall to sing the National Anthem, we should have seen that as an omen. (To quote Lisa Simpson, who led the supergroup Garfunkel, Messina, Oates & Lisa, “Why would they come to our concert just to boo us?”)

If last night’s experience adopted a porn name, it would be “Destiny DeLaid.” And now, the pros:

  • Hamels’ effort still counts. The game resumes with the Phillies batting in the bottom of the sixth, and will likely face a Tampa Bay bullpen still smarting from the their debacle Sunday night. Our bullpen, on the other hand, is rested and ready.
  • The fans in their now-compounded desperation are going to be absolutely fucking insane.
  • The Phillies didn’t win last night, but neither did the Rays. The game is tied, and the Fightin’s are still up 3-1 with a chance to win this series at home. Nothing is fucked, Dude.

That said, if last night’s debacle begins a spiral of misfortune into That Which We Cannot Bring Ourselves To Consider, Bud Selig better start wearing disguises, and using pseudonyms when checking into hotels: “Mr. Dub Giles? Your room is ready, sir.”

Let’s relax, take a deep breath, and enjoy a brief moment of tranquility. Roll the clip:

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Everybody feel better? Good. GO PHILS!!!

Posted by at 5:22 pm ET 2 Comments

Via The Smoking Gun — your source for appalling mug shots! — comes this arresting collage (Ha! Get it?) which I’m guessing was taken probably sometime within the last three days.


In judging the general bad-ass appearances of these two men (I’m assuming the one on the left is male; in certain parts of this great land of ours it gets a bit sketchy), TSG simply had this to say: “Phillies in six.”

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R.I.P Harry Kalas