Just to show how much we love our readers, and that we listen to you guys, and that we're here to entertain and amuse you guys at the expense of people who piss us off, I'm going to delve into the fiction genre with Mark's idea. Plus it's a really cool idea. For the record, the following is an act of fiction and any similarities to events that have happened... or may *cough-hopefully-cough* happen are purely coincidental.
It was a loud, rambunctious night following a Yankee win over the Chicago Cubs in Game 7 of the World Series, and quite a scene was unfolding across the street from the Ballpark in the Bronx at Billy's, as members of the Yankees television and radio broadcast teams came out in public to join in the celebration. The bar was packed to the gills, when suddenly, in through the front door came Daily News Columnist and Short People's Society President Mike Lupica and his Yankee Friends (a blow-up doll in a Red Sox t-shirt and a Teddy Ruxpin bear.) He headed over to the group of Yankee Broadcasters which included Michael Kay, Suzyn Waldman, Ken Singleton, John Flaherty and John Sterling for an impromptu Sports Reporters-style debate.
As the conversation grew louder and louder, with Mike Lupica climbing onto a table so that his child-like person could be both seen, and heard, the bar began to empty. Real Yankee fans spilled out into the streets to continue their celebration away from the nauseating combination of Kool Aid and criticism.
The group continued their discussion, oblivious to the now-empty bar, so oblivious in fact, that they failed to notice the behemoth-like man in head-to-toe black who had just slipped in through the front door, a ski-mask covering his head, a Louisville Slugger in tow.
"A team with a payroll of exactly $209,157,892.77 should win the World Series every year!" proclaimed Lupica, as he stomped angrily on the bar.
"But oh my goodness gracious!! The only thing that could make this night any better was if Roger Clemens were here!" squealed Waldman!
Lupica screamed, "ROGER CLEMENS USES STERO...." but was unable to finish his sentence, as the dark figure had stalked across the room and swung that mighty wooden bat, knocking Lupica off the bar about 70 feet to the back wall like he was a hanging slider.
"Enough is enough...you guys are all hacks" said Lupica's assailant as he began swinging wildly at Michael Kay's oversized head, which exploded much like a watermelon at one of those shitty Gallagher comedy shows.
Ken Singleton tried to flee the scene, but to no avail as the mysterious figure hurled a baseball, hitting him in the back of the neck and killing him with nothing short of a Joba Chamberlain fastball.
Now it was Flaherty's turn, as Waldman and Sterling cowered behind the former major leaguer, but as the black-hooded man bludgeoned Flaherty something terrible happened! The bat broke!!! However would he manage to kill Waldman and Sterling now!?
Alas, not one to be stopped by a mere broken bat, the man lifted Waldman by her ankles and proceeded to beat John Sterling to death with her melon-fucking-head, also killing Waldman.
He then stalked over to Mike Lupica, who was just regaining consciousness, looking up at the man who would surely be his executioner....
"Wh... why... are you... doing... this.... oh, and by the way, what was Jason Giambi really apologizing for anyway? He never said.... uhhhh... ohh... the pain...." mumbled Lupica through his broken jaw.
The figure stood proudly, looking down at Lupica as he pulled off his hood to reveal a familiar face... it was...
BOBBY MURCER!!!
"I did this because a true Yankee can only listen to your bullshit for so long before he's gotta do something about it. I got a fucking tumor from listening to those assholes for all those years!" said Murcer, "But don't worry... you'll live to tell about this."
Murcer then stomped down on Mike Lupica's skull, crushing it under his powerful foot!!
"NOOOOOT!!!" screamed Murcer in his best Borat voice!!
As the last gasp escaped from Lupicas lungs it formed the word, "Hiiiiilllllllllllllllarrrrrryyyyyyyy.....yyy...."
The End....
Thursday, May 29, 2008
An Enough-Lupica-Style Fantasy
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5 comments:
DREAM-MAKER - ALL HAIL THE DREAM-MAKER!!!!
To continue this fantasy:
As Lupica's frail and feminine carcass was airlifted across the bar by the mysterious hooded stranger, Sterling, in a knee-jerk reaction, suddenly shouted out, "He is high, he is far, he is... OFF THE WALL! Well, Yankee fans, that's the 15th time I've fucked up a call and crushed your hearts today, and you know know what that means - 15 minutes can save you hundreds of dollars by switching to GEIC - Bobby, no!". Bobby then beat Sterling with Waldman, who was squeling "Oh my goodness gracious!" with each strike! And with Sterling's last gurgling words came the call every Yankee fan has waited years to hear - "Yankee fans win - thhhhhhe Yankee fans win!"
Mark M.
I love you Mark. If you weren't a dude, I'd hump your leg until there was a wet spot.
Fafa, this guy's funnier than me.
C'mon now, Mister Six - let's not say things we can't take back. After all, you blazed the path. I merely followed your lead with a tweak or two.
But we have alot of work to do, striving to make this a Lupica-Free world - not just for you and me, but for our children and childrens' children.
Imagine a world where fans can listen to commentary on the impartial and intelligent observation of their sport of choice, without the underlying sabotage and propoganda being presented as thoughtful insights by the likes of Lupica and Francesa.
THIS is why our work, - no, CRUSADE!, though unheralded, must continue.
I wish no ill wiil upon Lupica - wait, yes I do. I wish he'd let go of this foolish dream to one day be a sports writer (he's only embarrassing himself) and fulfill his childhood dream: to curl up inside a hollow stump, living alone with the World Series ring the Red Sox gave him for his Lemming-like loyalty, gazing into the diamondique settings and saying, "My precious, we did it!"
Mark M.
This guy's good, and funny, and just compared Lupica to Smeagol... and he seems to enjoy my writing a lot. Either this is secretly Mike Lupica himself, impersonating a fan to gain insight into our anonymity, or this is the coolest human being I've ever encountered.
Yes, your writing is spot-on, and no - this is NOT Lupica (my spelling, grammar and line of thought are all proper and coherent).
See, the problem is that there's legitimate work needed to fix the Yanks on both the field and in the booth, but with someone like Lupica, an arrogant, pompous hack who, while suffering from a severe bout of Napoleon complex, spends an equal amount of time blowing the Mets while taking it up the ass from anything out of Boston (his idea of the ultimate pig-roast), he becomes a distraction.
The fact that this little punk, whose over-inflated sense of self-worth could cure the energy crisis, is taken even remotely seriously is more a reflection of how far we’ve fallen as a society than how “insightful” he is on sports, politics, etc.
Oh – he’s for Hillary? Wow – didn’t see THAT one coming. And once she’s gone (I’m thinking 06/20) – oh, he’s for Obama? I didn’t see THAT one coming, either.
Here, Lupica, I’ll save you the time – Hillary bows out, Obama gets the nod as the Dem’s rep., and on 01/20/2009 – say ‘hello’ to President McCain.
Punk.
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