Tommy Lasorda Takes His Ball and Goes Home

lasorda.jpgBaseball is America’s game! It doesn’t belong to the Italians or the Cubans or the Koreans or the Japanese. Especially not the Japanese! The very thought of them playing our game makes me sick to my stomach!

And the Dutch! God, I hate the Dutch! I hate tulips! I hate land below sea level! Screw them and their stupid wooden shoes! Those guys wear wooden shoes, right?

I feel so strongly about this, I’m gonna use my time machine. Oh yeah, I have a time machine. You get a free time machine whenever you’re inducted into the Hall of Fame.

You know who invented it? Don Drysdale. Not only are Dodgers the best team in the world, but they’ve broken the time/space continuum!

Anyway, I’m gonna use my time machine and get ridda every player I ever had who wasn’t American. Fernando Valenzuela, get lost! I know you won me a World Series in 1981, but I don’t care. Get American or get off my team!

Davey Lopes, cornerstone of my infield for a decade: hit the road! I don’t care if you were born in Rhode Island. That’s a foreign name, pal! I ain’t taking any chances!

Same goes for Ron Cey. That name sounds a little too Chinese for my liking. People used to call you The Penguin–penguins ain’t American, either. Get outta my sight!

Steve Garvey–probably American. But he went to play for the Padres, which is a Spanish word. Good enough for me! Scram, ya commie!

Once I get rid of all these un-American types, I’ll win even more World Series! Cuz my lineups won’t be polluted by these stupid foreign types! Those guys should stick to their own sports like soccer or bocce or whatever the hell it is those people play!

Then, I’ll go back to 1972 and warn Nixon about Watergate, and beat Woodward and Bernstein with a tire iron. No one takes down my favorite president! Nixon will be so grateful he’ll finally grant me my greatest wish: to see America’s official flower changed to fettuccine.

Then, I’ll go back to 1955 and make Jayne Mansfield fall in love with me. How? I have my ways. Most of them involve pasta.

Then, I’ll go back to 1933 and kill Hitler! But not before I find out where he hid the Ark of the Covenant!

Then, I’ll probably take a nap. Other than the time machine, sleep is the best way to escape this horrible, horrible modern world!

Jim Cramer Won’t Stop Believin’

kramer.jpgJim Cramer’s back again with Mad Money, comin’ atcha via Webcam from an undisclosed Panera bread location. Here’s my latest Buy Now! notice: the strawberry yogurt parfait. Delicious and reasonably priced!

I just gotta tell ya, folks, I stand by my statement that President Obama’s policies have made him one of the worst wealth destroyers in American history. Sure, most of that wealth was imaginary, due to Ponzi schemes and backdoor deals and other assorted forms of skullduggery. That doesn’t matter! The point is, we all used to be rich on paper, and now we’re broke in real life!

What bothers me is that Obama doesn’t seem to understand how the stock market works. He thinks it operates on actual value of companies and their products. It has nothing to do with anything real! If it did, the world financial markets would’ve collapsed decades ago!

Here’s what happens on a typical Wall Street day. First, all of the traders bow before the altar of Gorlaqk the Dread and pay him obeisance. Then, they run around like maniacs for 7 hours. They don’t know why. They don’t know how. They have no idea what they’re even doing! They just perform acts they are compelled to do, in an almost supernatural trance-state, and when it’s all over they stare in disbelief at the carnage they’ve caused. It’s like a Celtic battle frenzy, in suspenders!

Wall Street is not made up of individuals who act of their own free will! Wall Street is an empathic organism that feeds on the collective emotions of the hive mind! So when traders feel good, the Dow goes up! And when current events make them nervous or sad, the Dow goes way down. So I lay the Street’s troubles on your doorstep, Mr. President!

Okay, the manager just told me to keep it down. Gotta keep quiet–I don’t wanna get kicked outta here like did at that Cosi down the block.

Why did I tell you to gobble up shares of Wachovia? Because me and their CEO are best buds? No! It’s because I know that Wall Street needs positive vibes to succeed! I believed with all my heart that stock wouldn’t fail! I had to totally ignore every single warning sign that Wachovia would turf out to do that, but I did it, by god!

So why did they fail? Because you didn’t believe hard enough. I did my part. Wachovia didn’t fail, Bear Stearns didn’t fail, AIG didn’t fail, Citigroup didn’t fail–you did. You should be ashamed of yourselves, America.

I called up the president. I said, listen, all you need to revive the Dow is to believe! Address the American people on TV and clap your hands three times if you believe in the Dow! Do you believe in the Dow? I KNOW YOU DO!!!

Can you believe that President Obama didn’t say anything?! I mean, I’m not a 100 percent sure I actually talked to him. I don’t have his private line, so I just dialed 1-800-2DAPREZ. Since nobody picked up, I just talked to the dialtone. But the fact that he wouldn’t figure out I was trying to reach him–me, Jim Cramer!–makes me shudder for the economy’s future.

I’m gonna get another bear claw, but when we return, I will attack my parents for being some of the worst Santa Claus- and Tooth Fairy-destroyers in history.

Inappropriate Walk Up Music: 03.09.09

santo-shea.jpgFor the original Inappropriate Walk Up Music post, click here.

Every day until Opening Day, Scratchbomb presents three tunes that are completely, unequivocally inappropriate for use as major league walk-up music.

These are not necessarily bad songs–although that
certainly helps. They are merely songs that don’t evoke the fear and dread one traditionally associates with the walk-up song. In fact, they evoke the exact opposite.

Imagine yourself in the on-deck circle. Bottom of the 9th. Down by one. Man on second, two out. You hear the PA system blare, The centerfielder, number 20… The crowd roars at the sound of your name. And as you stroll to the batter’s box, you are greeted with the strains of one of these songs:

* “Monster Mash”, Bobby “Boris” Pickett
In general, novelty songs = inappropriate walkup music. But I bet there’s some major leaguer who’ d come to bat to a Weird Al tune.

* “Brand New Key,” Melanie

* “Uncle Tom’s Cabin”, Warrant
I love it when dumb guys try to stretch out. Like when a hair metal band best known for sexual innuendo involving pies pens a Southern gothic epic, and names it after a classic anti-slavery novel for no discernible reason.

A potentially explosive collection of verbal irritants