Dear Buccos of Suckitude:
Are you MOCKING me with this score? Did you hear I was heading to PNC Park for my first live Buccos of Suckitude game in about three or four years and did you say, “Let’s bring the suck! Let’s bring the suck like we’ve not brought the suck in one hundred and twenty four years. Let’s bring so much suck that she becomes blinded by the suck. Let’s choke her with suck. Let’s make her vomit from the stench of our suck. GOOOOO SUCK!”
Because that’s pretty much the only explanation I can come up with for how you could lose to the Brewers by a freaking score of TWENTY RUNS to not five, not four, not three, not two, not even ONE LOUSY MOTHERFLIPPING SON OF A RUN.
Wait. Maybe not that last one, but you get my point. The final score was 20 to SUCK.
Is this all you have? Is this all you are? Is this the best you can do? Are you not professional baseball players? Were you not raised on the diamond? Have you not cherished this game for most of your life? Have you not worked your ass off to be in the majors? Are you not worthy of the Majors? Are you truly and honestly, as everyone has been telling me, really just a suckity shell with a soft sucky center? Is there nothing in you? Are you being all you can be? Is this not the Army?
Wait. I may have blown a fuse here. I’m typing very fast and very frantically and there is LITERAL FIRE SHOOTING OUT OF MY EYEBALLS. LITERAL FIRE.
I’m not even exaggerating. Much.
I refuse to believe I have placed my hope, placed my stake in Make Room for Crazy, on a team this sucky.
I don’t know what’s going on in that locker room of yours, but after this three-game 36 to 1 run embarrassment, if there is not a man in there who is throwing shit across the room in anger, if there is not a man in there kicking over garbage cans while cursing like a sailor at you, if there is not a man in there getting up in each one of your faces and LITERALLY tearing you a new one (LITER.ALLY.), if there is not a man in there going Doug Freaking Mientkiewicz on your asses, then you need to let me in that room.
Because as soon as I get a good look at your washboard abs, I am going to make you rue the day you ever embarrassed me, anyone who has ever worn a Pirates uniform, and the entire City of Pittsburgh in this way.
Buck. The. Hell. Up. and play like you’re worthy of every single dollar we’re paying you with our hard-earned money spent on tickets to watch you play. Do not EVER reward us with that amount of suck again or so help me God, I will personally light this bandwagon on fire and ROLL IT INTO YOUR EFFING CLUBHOUSE.
Now, let’s go, Bucs!
P.S. I need wine. And maybe some Valium if you’ve got them.