Jockular plus

New England is the home of past and future champions
By PHILLIPE AND JORGE  |  October 31, 2007

Phillipe + Jorge have been absolutely giddy, as we have gone crazy about the World Series’ success of the Olde Towne Team. We are also keeping an eye on the amazing Patriots as they horsewhip opposing teams to within an inch of their lives on the steps of their national men’s club, the NFL.
In the midst of this ongoing local celebration of the Sweaty Sciences, here are a few notable observations of those who inhabit Jockworld:

• Fox’s pre- and post-game coverage of the Fall Classic was absolutely horrendous. Jeanne Zelasko, the frantic, blabbering hostess, was essentially unwatchable and unlistenable. Bringing on Eric Byrnes, the Arizona Diamondbacks’ hyperactive and childish poster boy, who looked like a junior high school kid with his shirttail out while he yammered on-camera, was intolerable. Word to this self-absorbed athlete: grow up and shut up. A special message to the jocks and sportswriters who want to sound like they have actually wrangled a GED: using contorted, puffed-up, faux intellectual phrases, like “bat-to-ball skills,” “pitch to contact,” and swing-and-miss-ability,” merely exaggerate how you are an idiot. You’re welcome.

• The quote of the World Series had to come from its MVP, Mike Lowell, the Red Sox’ regular season most valuable player to boot. His superb fielding and clutch hitting made him a deserving winner, but his heads-up base running was an added joy for baseball purists. Asked about his suddenly exposed ability to take chances and snatch an extra base in key situations, Lowell had a great explanation: “You always look faster if you’re safe.”

• It’s such sad news about the New York Yankees’ Alex Rodriguez, presumptive American League MVP, opting out of his multi-gajillion contract with the Evil Empire to go on the free market. P+J say there’s no chance the BoSox will sign A-Hole, because he is a locker room nightmare, and it is unlikely the Yanks will take him back, so he may be left wandering the wilderness looking for a new team. A-Fraud’s chance of turning whatever desperate franchise he lands with into a World Series champ is slim, given his record of putting on the iron suit when the pressure goes up. To paraphrase Seinfeld’s Soup Nazi, “No rings for you!”

• Speaking of no rings, the only accessory that should be given to purported reliever Eric Gagne, the BoSox’ official albatross, is a cigar band. Although he did pitch one scoreless inning at the end of the first WS game blowout — an appearance which nonetheless instilled fear in the hearts of Red Sox Nation — Mr. Gag-me was a nightmare acquisition for the team. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out, Eric.

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