Buildings tumble. The ground opens wide.
Alas, poor Burchie. I knew him well. Others, not so much.
Burchie and Blanco, at the Plex. Never forget. Never forget 4ever.
Last straw. Me and Saint Benny, we gonna have words. I could not possibly have imagined, when I wrote that last linked post, how utterly fucking inept that protected list was. Cry all you want that none of the exposed were drafted; what'd Clyde's spot on the list, or Davies' spot, buy? Not even shit.
It's true that the experience transcends the result, which makes the upcoming deadline for season ticket payment less of a big deal than it ought to be, under the circumstances (we don't know where we're playing and we have about four players on our roster). That the outcome of the transaction isn't in doubt does nothing to make paying for this any less galling.
Special for BFF: I tried to get over it. No dice.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
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1 comment:
Oh, c'mon. You & the Dog're gonna' buy the tx no matter where they play or of whom the they is comprised. And you're gonna' still be loud and standing. And the beer is still gonna' suck. And the refs will continue to destroy your playoff chances. No?
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