It has been [go Google it and fill in the blank] days since the Pirates announced Clint Hurdle as their new manager and I haven’t written a word about it.
Because what do I say?
“Second verse, same as the first?”
“Been there, done that?”
“Stick a daisy in a pile of shit and it’s still a pile of shit?”
“This too shall pass?”
“My dog rolls in bunny poop?”
No really, my dog rolls in bunny poop. This is gross and upsetting and has nothing to do with this post unless we substitute “My dog” with “The Pirates” and “rolls in” with “smell like.”
This is a weird post.
I guess I’m not getting excited yet. We have all winter. We have football and we have hockey. Then spring training will roll around and we’ll see how the Pirates fare against some of the better community colleges down in Florida.
I can’t believe I just wrote that. [sigh]
You know me. You know I want to win. SO BADLY. I staked my name on it. I literally BET on it that 2010 was the year, and 2010 laughed in my face and bitchslapped me with 105 games lost.
So this is Clint Hurdle, Pittsburgh:
I have no comment yet, except to say this: I want to touch his amazing hair.