The Beards Win

I write to you in the top of the 12th inning, watching the MLB world series.

The Mets have lost, assuredly. The Kansas City Royals, which isn’t even a city in Kansas (WTF is up with that?) have won the World Series. My original prejudice lied in the beards of the Royals, a wholly disgusting set of future crystal meth addicts spending idle time as youngsters about the baseball field. There was no way the Royals could beat the NY Mets, since the midwest is a silly part of the United States, never to be taken seriously, especially by learned men of the east coast. I looked at men like Moustakas and Hochevar and thought it’d be impossible to beat the Mets and anyone who thought otherwise were delirious with insanity.

But then I saw these animals play ball and I was impressed. These Royals are a savage clan, the sort of men who’d rather cannibalize their entire village than go a day without food. Regarding the state of Missouri: there is nothing worse than Missouri. It represents the very worst of this country, both intellectually and culturally. I mean, look at Eric Hosmer and tell me what you find redeeming.

The reason why the Mets lost is because of their owner, Frederick Wilpon. A former friend of the infamous Bernard Maddof, Frederick had profited from the ponzi scheming ways of Bernie; and as a result, was litigated against and told to give back upwards of $160 million in illicit gains from the famed mountebank. In other words, until the NY Mets are sold to a person who isn’t guilty of the very worst crimes known to mankind, they will never win a World Series.

I am not emotionally invested in the NY Mets and have not been emotional about sporting events since the day I became an adult. I wish the KC Royals good fortune in their much deserved World Series win and hope that it brings a semblance of pride and honor to the obese and degenerate people of Kanas City, persons more interested in the spices in their BBQ sauce than their industrial capacity.