Youk Of The Nation

And what's with the kids these days and their Walkmans and their gigapets and their rap music?

The only explanation that makes sense to me is that the Royal's ownership made the players sign contracts that stipulated they would only be paid by the inning.

Also, the Angels side of the pitching boxscore looks like the goddamn All-Star game.

I'm really hoping Washington can pull a stunning comeback. I'd like KC/Baltimore and Dodgers/Nationals, because then we are guaranteed a World Series winner who hasn't won it all in a really long time. If the Giants or Cardinals make it in I feel like they'll end up beating up on either Baltimore or KC and then we'll have another Giants or Cardinals WS title in a couple years and frankly, the thought of that is boring to me.

Kansas City is the exact opposite of a Cinderella story. All of their success is coming after midnight.

Moustakas with the tiebreaker! Man, Kansas City is fun to watch. The two best postseason games in the early going, it looks like a fun series is starting. Suck it, Los Angeles.

The ball should go in the Hall of Fame along with the last weak pop foul from a utility infielder that was caught by Jorge Posada and the final weakly disputed checkswing pitch from Andy Pettitte. They can call it the Mediocrixibhit.

The gentle liner heard 'round the world. Seriously, you couldn't even muster up a double to the warning track?

I have a feeling that being a professional sports player and a card-carrying multi-millionaire will factor into any legal decisions as well. It always seems to somehow. Maybe Ray Rice and Dante Stallworth can open a restaurant together or something. Or maybe a bar!

I'm not 100 percent certain, but in most cases, barring death or serious injury (beyond simply being knocked out), I think the victim has to press charges in order for prison time to be a possibility. I could be incorrect though.

Sorry? You're "sorry"? No. "Sorry" is for when you spill your drink on someone. "Sorry" is for when you forget to replace the toilet paper roll. We are way, way, way past "sorry". I could be the bigger man here and laugh it off as youthful indiscretion. I could dismiss the entire incident and prove that I have moved on with my life and grown away from the despair and the constant voices in my head exhorting me to kill myself since the day I lost the one person I loved more than anything else. I could be generous and mature and admit that the internet brings out malicious and sociopathic tendencies in people who are otherwise not inclined to seek or incite conflict. But I'm not going to do that. When you did what you did, I would have, with no thought to my own future, gladly have beaten you into a fine paste with whatever blunt instrument that I could find, and lacking that implement, choke the life out of you with my bare hands, you stupid, immature, egotistical, obnoxious dribble of mouse s***. I have, over the last couple years, honestly looked forward to the day that you crawled your slimy ass back onto this site so I could tell you "f*** you". I don't know enough languages and regional dialects to completely express how much I loathe you. Your posting as rjortiz has been mildly inoffensive at times, and at other times, grating. Even if you had conducted yourself like Miss Manners during your time here, I would still have no compunctions about banning you from the site. Maybe this makes me petty. Maybe it makes me unable to let go of the past, maybe it has laid bare the fact that I am bitter and lonely and still living for someone who died years ago. Maybe it makes me immature and vindictive. But goddamn, does it feel good. One last thing: I won't wish you dead. That would make me worse than all of those other things: It would make me a hypocrite. However, I would be perfectly fine if you were hideously maimed for the remainder of your pathetic life, so if you wouldn't mind terribly blinding yourself with a white-hot dildo, I would consider us even. Take your apology, shove it up your ass, and then pull it out and eat s***.

Finally got a computer today, after being without one for months. I see the place hasn't changed much, still filled with two groups of people on opposite sides, each acting the same and accusing the other side of acting poorly. How glad I am that I can post regularly again. Amazing how one bad season after winning the World Series can change people's mind about a manager or a team. You'd think last year never happened. Yeah, this year sucks and is almost unwatchable, but there is no reason for everyone to be douches to each other.

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Congrats to the Kings. Once the Wings were out of it, I was rooting for LA out of respect for CT-born-and-raised Quick. But holy s***, I've never seen so many shots just missing in one game, let alone in OT in a playoff clincher. From the Ranger's shot that went off the pole to the King's shot that went of Lundqvist's stick...hell, that was an awesome game.

1. Replace one baseball per game with a small explosive charge, filled with glitter, streamers, and a small speaker pre-programmed with a stirring, yet tasteful, trumpet solo. Ser the charge to detonate on contact with a bat and award the player who sets it off with an inside-the-park home run. 2. Allow fans in the stands to pelt thrown-out baserunners with water balloons as the player walks back to the dugout 3. Settle all safe/out calls at home plate through a spirited round of Rock, Paper, Scissors between the runner and the catcher. 4. Replace the home plate umpire with a robot capable of correctly calling balls and strikes. Program the robot to brutally slaughter all members of the visiting team and approximately 45% of the fans, at random intervals. Just to keep everyone on their toes, and also just as a posthumous "f*** you" to Isaac Asimov. 5. Amend the rulebook to state that any player struck by a pitch that is deemed by the umpires to be intentional is awarded second base on the field and third base with the pitcher's wife or girlfriend. 6. Let Pete Rose into the Hall of Fame on the condition that he work a minimum of 50 hours a week doing loud, unnecessary construction directly in front of Barry Bond's home between the hours of 2-6 AM. 7. Install a hidden trapdoor in each MLB outfield, directly above a pit filled with either ravenous crocodiles or (depending on if the local climate can sustain crocodiles) poisoned spikes. Inform all major league players of the pits' locations except for Brett Gardner. 9. At the conclusion of each All-Star game, have the managers of the NL and AL teams duel with rapiers, sans protective gear. Home field advantage goes to the man who draws first blood. 10. Continue to launch fireworks in celebration of home runs, but launch them horizontally.

Hopefully, this is the last of the Mujica.

In lieu of pulleys, the casket will be thrown into the ground by Pedro Martinez.

Navafan mojo is otherworldly right now. Also, I'm going to continue with not-locking-the-gamethread mojo, because I'm terrified to mess with anything right now. I haven't moved my radio more than a nanometer in any direction in five days. It's driving me nuts, but I can't even dust my nightstand because it might cause Brock Holt to transform into a pumpkin or turn Johnathan Herrera into Johnathan Herrera. Go Sox!