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Major League Baseball

I know it's America's pastime, but I can't take it anymore. I have to make fun of all the ridiculousness that is Major League Baseball.

I hate Major League Baseball. How many friggin' games do you need to play to determine who's the best team in a given year? I have so many gripes about MLB that I can't type fast enough to get them all down.

The Managers

But in no particular order, here goes: the coaches (excuse me "managers") wear uniforms. Why in the hell are old, pot-bellied men whose only exercise is to occasionally run out onto the field to futilely argue a call wearing cleats and shirts with numbers? Can you not walk onto a baseball field in a suit? Hell, if dress clothes aren't your thing, wear the tacky cut off sweatshirts like the Patriots' coach Belichick. But for all that's holy and righteous in the world quit dressing like you may, at a moment's notice, need to put yourself in at shortstop.

The Players

Players, who I agree are overworked considering they play 15 games a week, are always on the injured reserve list for sissy injuries, e.g., twisted index finger, sprained piggy that went to market, etc. Why not just go on the list for being damn tired? Next, get a shot clock. The pitcher has to pitch within 20 seconds and the batter can't leave the batter's box once he steps in. I'm sick of the pitcher and hitter acting like voodoo priests who must make sure everything is in proper astrological and spiritual alignment before they can throw and hit. If Jordan can make the winning jumper with 20,000 screaming fans in his ear, you can throw the damn ball w/out worrying whether "you feel right." And batter, I don't give a damn how many times you unstrap, strap, and unstrap your batting glove, you have no better chance of hitting the ball -- which may or may not be coming depending on the vibes the overly superstitious pitcher is getting at the time.

The Umpires

Umpires, call it a ball or strike. We don't need to see the call in interpretive dance.

Stop With The Stats Already

Statisticians, take a breather. I don't care how Rodriquez's batting average is against left-handed Scorpios on Tuesday home games at night when the temperature is below 60 and it's mostly cloudy with a new moon and winds coming out of the west at 15 or below miles per hour.

The Rules and Rituals

Why is it ok to knock the ever-living shit out of the catcher when you're coming home, but you get called out if you yell "boo" at the 2nd baseman while trying to stop a double play? Why all the spitting? Why all the crotch grabbing? Why is last night's pitcher suited up? The chances of his making an appearance is somewhere between the manager going in at left field and Salma Hayek showing up at my door wondering where I've been all her life.

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