Breslow hates the food, despises trades.
“Receive Thornton casket.”
Hub fans bid Lester a red fart in October,
Secret drink enhanced Nava.
Lackey is hurling grub for Boston bullpen,
And militant Beato going haiku.
Drew’s hot thong outhit the tubbier Lavarnway.
“Receive Thornton casket.”
“&0}}@{{|+!” Grant would emit,
When yielding a ¢0¢%$^¢%ing hit.
“You @$$#0£3! You suck!
You }^{§*^¢%ing *^¢%!
@&#*$(#@$)%&*(ing @&*#(%$&%(%*&@ing $#|+!”
Back on the old Baseball Toaster, I wrote 8,320 entries of various sorts.
I recently surpassed that number of posts on Twitter, and I have now reached my 10,000th tweet.
I wanted to do something special to commemorate the milestone, so I dug something up out of my old bag of tricks, and made a slideshow of my Top 30 2012 Vacation Photos and Baseball Player names.
* * *
If you enjoyed those, here are some older, similar slideshows built on outdated technology:
No! Ken has not really retired!
He’s not stiff, ceased to be, or expired!
His beautiful plume
Hasn’t gone to the tomb;
His voice ain’t invisible choired!
No, his squawk isn’t really declining.
He’s not nailed to his perch for enshrining.
I assure you his Voom!
Will shortly resume
As soon as he’s done with his pining.
To produce a mighty book, you must choose a mighty theme. No great and enduring volume can ever be written on the flea, though many there be that have tried it.
— Herman Melville
This blog entry is my white whale. It has been my nemesis since the genesis of this blog. I have never been able to tame it or capture it. My goal in starting the Catfish Stew blog was not, like so many other baseball blogs, to second-guess The Management, but to express what it feels like to be an Oakland A’s fan. If I have failed as a blogger, it is because I lacked the willpower to bring myself to tell this story, to confront the core pain of my mission. Would Herman Melville have succeeded if he had tried to write his masterpiece without ever once mentioning Ahab’s peg leg, the scar that drives his obsession? If you face the Truth, it hurts you; but if you look away, it punishes you.
Load the harpoons, gentlemen, it is showdown time. Today, my adventure as a baseball blogger ends. I’m going down, and I’m taking Moby Dick with me.
How quick we’ve forgotten Dale Sveum!
He had such a sveet-sounding neum.
At the old Coliseum
I once went to seum,
But he sviftly has lost all his feum.
