Mr. 600
I’ve been watching every Yankees game for, like, nine years now waiting for A-Rod to hit his damn 600th home run. I suffered through Cleveland’s announcers for that entire series hoping that Saint Alexander would deign to end my torment, but it was not to be (and, seriously, fuck watching YES). And wouldn’t you know it? Like the gutless, un-clutch chokey chokemaster he is, A-Fraud elects to hit his homer during the one game — the one damn game — that took place while I was at work.
Fuck you, A-Rod. Fuck you on so many levels.
Am I the only one who thought that the reason A-Rod hadn’t hit a homer in 1400 plate appearances or whatever was because he got bored with the idea of being the youngest player ever to hit 600 and decided it would be more fun to be the oldest?
Somebody should make a carnival strength-tester game where you hit a ball with a bat and then it lights up your strength:
Bonds
Aaron
Ruth
Mays
Griffey
Sosa
A-Rod
That would be funny. Also, they’d get sued about a million different ways, and that would be funny too.
