Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Happiness Assassin: John Lackey Destroys Another Nice Day

John Lackey is horrible.

Everything about him is repulsive. His pitching, his attitude, his smarm. Oh yes, he's smarmy. It's digusting. It's at the point that when I have tickets to game Lackey is scheduled to pitch, as I did yesterday, I strongly consider selling them because I know Lackey is going to suck, and I'm going to have wasted money to watch him suck. He never lets me down in that aspect. For my second trip to Fenway in a row, I've been stuck watching the shitshow that is John Lackey. My friend Amy and I set a "Lackey Limit" before each of his starts. We decide how many runs he can allow in how many innings before we give up and go to Game On! to drink away the memories before they fully form and become permanent. Yesterday's Lackey limit was set at 8 runs in 4 innings. It was a reasonable limit, I thought. Thankfully, Tito didn't let him get that far, and Amy and I were able to stay for the whole game. Don't get me wrong, he was close. One more batter and he would have reached that limit, I'm sure of it. Nobody likes you, John Lackey. Do the right thing, give back your paycheck and retire because you are flat out stealing from the good people of Boston. You horrible troll man.

The Sox did try to rally. They cut the deficit to two runs. The bullpen pitched well, but we can't expect them to completely shut down a team for six and two thirds innings. I mean, the rest of the team did everything they could to catch up, but the hole Lackey put them in was too deep. Because he sucks. I'm not kidding, even if he doesn't need Tommy John surgery, can't the Sox just force him to get it anyway? Please?

Dan Wheeler was fantastic. He gets loads of credit in my book for going out there and throwing almost three innings of scoreless baseball. Pretzels and Salty (side note - haha, salty pretzels) both tripled in runs and tried their hardest to tie it up. Unfortunately, we ran out of magic with Pretzels on second in the ninth with nobody out. Francisco proceeded to strike out Munchkin, Ernie, and Navarro (all three swinging... at least they didn't stare at strike three, so credit there, too) to end the game and to send us all home sad. Valiant effort, but it fell just short.

And it's all John Lackey's fault.

A brief discussion about Lackey over at Lauren's blog (Too Soxy for my Shirt... click the link. DO IT!), I've decided that John Lackey will be called Mudpie from now on. Because he is dirty and gross and unpleasant and he stinks. All. The. Time. And I'm just hoping that the Red Sox do the right thing and give me reason to not have to ever write about Mudpie again.

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