Editor's Note: This post was put together by the cousin of yours truly. I can't vouch for him; he lives in Joplin, Missouri, was home-schooled (still lives with my aunt and uncle who, by the way, vacation in Arkansas every year), has never been west of Kansas City or north of Omaha or east of Jefferson City, and I'd imagine the only form, if any, of sex he's ever had probably shares some strains of DNA with the both of us. Nevertheless, we've given him the keys to the House before, and he's only managed to offend a small section of the world's population with his crass hillbillyisms. Until he offends say, a segment of the human race the size of China's population, we'll probably let the boy keep at it.
The Kansas City Royals utilized the popular professional baseball trend of making major announcements on the road today when Buddy Bell delivered his resignation-at-season's-end press conference at the Metrodome in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Citing personal/family reasons for his decistion to step down at the end of the campaign, Bell made it clear that he was not burned out, nor was he being forced out. His reasons for announcing this today center on the fact that the "next year" talks have already started and Bell didn't feel right leading anyone on knowing that his desire to spend time with his family outweighs his desire to be an everyday skipper. Cousin Roy weighs in on this and the Royals' perpetual struggles versus the Twinkies.
I'm pissed as a bee swatted outta air. When that whacky Dominicanian Tony Pena banged his neighbor's wife, I thought for sure we was gonna hire another bumpkin like Tony Muser. As you can imagine, I's mighty pleased to see the Glasses bring in a baseball guy like Buddy Bell. And things didn't look much different at first; they just kept on losin'. Then Allard Baird got canned and Dayton Moore replaced him, and things turned around. Seemed like the combo of Moore and Bell started workin' right off the bat. Heh heh. Moore pulled some strings on a number of acquisitions and Bell kept running good games. Like Moore said, it all starts with pitchin'. And that's what he done so far: get good pitchin'.
The story though, fresh off the heels of two consecutive winning months for the first time in ages, Bell's gonna move back to the home of WKRP. And I ain't mad at him for that. Man's gotta do blah, blah, blah. I am pissed at all of the folks that, from this day forth, will look at Bell's record with the Royals and call him a bad manager.
Just ain't right. Bell's done good with the team, no question. I wish him the best in keeping the boys on track for winning games. Speaking of games, the Royals take the field tonight for game three of four versus them goddamn Twins. Man, I hate them. Far's I'm concerned, Ron Gardenhire can be a puppy in a stocking on Mike Vick's Christmas-morning mantle. All them faggot Twins fans was so pissed he lost out to Tony Pena four years ago. Shit. Dude's a creep. Probably makes suits outta people skin like that queer from "Silence of the Lambs."
Anyway, I ain' quite as dumb as my cousin, Banky. That dumbass has twice said he thought the Twins'd take the Central this year. Everybody but him knows that ain't happenin'. He is right about them boys always beatin' up ours, though. I'd bet you'd be hard pressed to find any stat over the last seven years that shows a Royal-over-Twin advantage. Especially up there in their house. Stupid dome.
Nevertheless, that ass clown Boof Bonser takes the mound tonight against my boy Brian Bannister. It's time we put our hardships with the Twins behind us for good. Startin' tonight too. We let Scott "Could I have a more generic name?" Baker get the best of our golden boy on Monday, and Carlos "Hi-Ho" Silva notched a W last night. If Bannister can win the battle of the Bs tonight, that might be our only hope for this series, what with Odalis Perez facing Johan "Sebastian Bach Carlos" Santana tomorrow evenin'.
(Update: That game has been cancelled due to the sudden bizzare collapse of a bridge outside of the Metrodome.)
Nonetheless, I wish Buddy Bell the best, and Boof Bonser death by stereo. One thing I never could stand about playin' in a division with teams like Minnesota: All the damn homos. And when I say homos, I mean you, Lew Ford. And you, Joe Mauer. Whyn't you make like Macho Man Savage and snap into a Slim Jim. Or a boatin' accident. Whichever.
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Guys. Relax. I'm right here. I haven't notched a W for my Twinkies in a few, but I've still got the stuff. So, chill. Every time you put that tagline on a post, the Twin City readers/fans get nervous, like I fell into da' river with that bridge collapse uh somethin'.
