A Natural Progression


Chief Wahoo’s funeral procession should end at Cleveland Browns Stadium, oh wait, excuse me, FirstEnergy Stadium, Home of the Cleveland Browns. The funeral procession can transition to a pyre when good ol’ Mayor for Life Frank Jackson lights the stadium afire with an AGM-114 Hellfire missile fired from the USS Cod that not only sends Wahoo to hell, but eradicates the city of Cleveland from its other albatross, the Cleveland Browns. Sure, one missile won’t send the horrible past packing easily, so the entire stadium will be pack with high explosives to ensure our Canadian neighbors think Russia has finally bombed the sovereign U.S.

Sure, some Cleveland traditionalists forever mired in the past will object to the idea, and will ask, “Where will we tailgate now?”, but the rest of the city will recognize that the citizens is no longer going to tailgate for losers and take its first steps into the future since the post-World War II era of industrial dominance. “See you this Sunday, my ass” will become the city greeting as a happier unemployed workforce greets the day. “We might not have jobs, but we got the monkey off our backs!” will be the official tattoo of Cuyahoga County. The Truckstop Carpet Bagger can take his lousy football team with ugly uniforms to London, and the NFL can award Cleveland a new expansion team because life in Cleveland without the NFL is just crazy.

This time, Cleveland won’t have unrealistic expectations based on the first preseason win upon the team’s return and the signing of some broken Ohio State player. More importantly, the new stadium won’t be another near the shore of Lake Erie because whoever thought playing football next to a frozen Great Lake was a good idea? Mayor for Life Frank will extort the Canadians to pay for the new stadium through reparations for when the visiting Blue Jays’ fans shit the bed just like their hero, Jose Bautista.

Best of all, the team will play in the NFC North so the toothless Steelers’ fans won’t migrate to city once a year. Again, Cleveland traditionalists might object, but the Steelers/Browns rivalry died when Art Model moved the team to Baltimore. The past is dead; time to move on. Leave the grieving widows by the food trucks; they will eventually find their way home. A new team shall be borne because no phoenix can rise from the ashes of the Browns. Model did the city a favor when he took his moribund band of underperformers out of here; the team had been terminally ill since he sent Paul Brown packing. 1999 Cleveland was not ready for a clean break, but after seventeen years of complete ineptitude, the 2016 Cleveland is.

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Bury Wahoo.


Hey Cleveland fans,

Draymond Green owns your souls. You have no one to blame but yourself for running your damn fool mouths last summer after the Cavs came back from a 3-1 game deficit. When the Indians tripped on their dicks and fell into the gaping hole of Mike Napoli batting fourth in the lineup, squandering a 3-1 game lead, Draymond was there to take what you had unwittingly offered when you behaved like angry Shriner clowns who were talking smack to the Free Masons about the number of tires in their parade. Paybacks are a bitch, Sunshine, and you will carry this debt to the grave. Your claims that basketball is a different sport, so 3-1 means something different when talking about hoops sound like a white privileged kid defending the use of the word niggardly on his blog. Counting is fundamental. Once again, Cleveland is the butt of jokes across the nation, and once again, Cleveland’s only response is stammering, “But, but, our Metroparks are great! At least we aren’t Toronto! We had a championship parade while they had to settle for a NBA All Star game!”

Cleveland couldn’t even fill their stadium with Indians’ fans as many sold their tickets to Cubs fans so they could finally purchase that ’78 Camaro, or pay their kid’s tuition at St. Mark’s. Look, I know that money talks, but every man has a price, and yours was pretty low. At least downtown was able to recoup some revenue from that GOP convention, a small price to pay for the scab being ripped of the city’s insecurities, exposing them to the world. Meanwhile, Draymond Green gets the last laugh. Good going, Cleveland fans. The nation is laughing at you (again), and suddenly CLEVELAND AGAINST THE WOLRD rings hollow – don’t start a land war in Asia!

The only way to atone for this travesty is finally embrace adulthood and bury Chief Wahoo. He is not some benevolent drawing; he represents almost seventy years of losing. Don’t give me your bullshit about how the Chief is some sort of bond to your parents or grandparents; Chief Wahoo is handcuffed to losing, and that sadomasochist bastard enjoys it and wants to include you in his suffering. The current Wahoo wasn’t around in 1948; the TRULY RACIST WAHOO was. Don’t tell me your emotional investments with a cartoon; what is your return on those investments after almost seventy years of losing? No wonder you had to sell your World Series tickets to cover your ass. Daddy drank when you were a child because you were bad; I don’t want to hear any nostalgia about how great your childhood was. Besides, he isn’t even a chief; his one feather indicates he is a brave.

Before anyone accuses me of being a Social Justice Warrior, I am not advocating that Wahoo be buried for politically correct reasons, I want him gone because he is a loser, and you know what, fuck losers. If Cleveland fans want him around for nostalgic reasons, they can put up his image in their garages or dens. Wear Wahoo pajamas to be before you have sexy times with your significant other; just keep that loser off the field, and maybe the baseball team would not keep blowing 3-1 postseason leads. In case you forgot, the 2007 Indians did the same damn thing in the ALCS. In fact, the 2001, 1999, and 1998 teams all were up in the series after three games and went on to lose while wearing that loser on their hats.

If the Cleveland baseball team wants to retain the Indians as their nickname, well, that is their choice. However, I am not sure why organizations fell compelled to choose nicknames of groups of people who came up on the losing end of history. In the year 2016, you certainly aren’t honoring their traditions by plastering them on your sports laundry. Plus, the original Indians in the Cleveland area were such an odious lot that they were eradicated by other tribes. I am not sure that is what an organization should strive for when choosing a nickname, but let’s face it, what the hell else is the team going to be called, “The Shuttered Steel Mills”? “Little Orange Barrels”? “The Sir Albert Belles”?

Cleveland can have a big ceremony to put Wahoo to rest. Instead of a victory parade, there can be a funeral procession along the Cavs parade route. Everyone can come out to pay their respects and behave like it is St. Patrick’s Day. Old players can be invited to attend, and this time Chuck Finley will not be slighted. He is just hanging out in malls in Southern California anyway, just wanting to talk baseball with strangers. Omar Vizquel and Jose Mesa can patch things up in Carlos Baerga’s limo. At the end of the long night, Cleveland could finally put the past behind them and look towards the future, a future in which complete dominance of Toronto sports will still be a thing.

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From The Cactus League


So yesterday in the Cactus League things got a little chippy between Angels’ fans and Royals’ fans, mainly because Royals’ fans were acting like entitled jerks. Their team win one World Championship, and the fan base flocks to Arizona for spring training, forgetting that their all tile great player is most famous for hemorrhoids and pine tar. The Angels don’t really have an all time great players, so no ice breakers there!

Some dude in front of me was wearing a crown and blue cape even though it was DESERT HOT. Someone shouted, “Sit down, Gandalf!” He replied Gandalf wears white. Technically, he was correct. At least he wasn’t rude like many of his fellow brethren. One Royals’ mom was moaning about having to wait in the concession line, as if we were supposed to get out of her way. An Orange County housewife turned to her and said, “Honey, you’d probably be much happier if your husband paid for a lift.”

Around the seventh inning, things started to get particularly nasty because beer had been flowing. Just as things were about to GET PHYSICAL, so dude in a Toronto Blue Jays’ fan jersey walked by – a dark blue Donaldson one, which is a violation of at least three Cactus League taboos. As much as I wanted to see a RUMBLE, I could not avoid a peacemaking opportunity.

“Look, everyone,” I shouted. “A Canadian Snowbird! Them’s good eats! Let’s throw him on a spit!” This brought laughter from the blood thirsty crowd, and tension was released. The Blue Jays’ fan was bewildered, so I said, “Tell us how the 2016 NBA All Star Weekend was the greatest of the modern era!”

“It wasn’t,” he stammered. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

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Cesar E. Chavez Middle School/IE 66ers Career Pathways Proposal


The Inland Empire 66ers and Cesar E. Chavez Middle School seek to enrich their partnership by creating a Career Pathways project that will allow Chavez students to explore possible careers in certain sports related vocations while also developing the valuable skills necessary for many vocations. The 66ers will graciously allow Chavez students to shadow certain employees on low attendance game nights and perform job tasks. The 66ers will also mentor the Chavez students through an internship program, and allow the Cesar Chavez Video Production (CCVP) team to record pre and post game activities and also record game time activities. CCVP will use their own equipment for these purposes, and will only use this video footage for instructional purposes at Chavez Middle School and not broadcast any footage. The Career Pathways project will create enduring programs that future students will be able to utilize also. The following career pathways will be available:

 Sports Journalism

 Print/Digital

  1. Game recaps (beat reporter)
  2. Photos
  3. Scouting reports/statistical analysis

Broadcasting

  1. play by play of games (video and audio)
  2. pre/post game reports
  3. interviews

Marketing

  1. Long term game promotions (print/digital/video)
  2. Between inning promotions (create audio and video ads for sponsors)
  3. Social media
  4. Sound effects/video bytes
  5. Group sales promotions
  6. Music integration

Print/Graphic Design

  1. Team history/photo archive (graphic recreations)
  2. Bernie’s Children Books
  3. Video log

Public Relations/Customer Service

  1. Greeting customers
  2. Customer assistance
  3. Community Service

Sports Medicine

  1. First aid
  2. Trainer shadowing

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All Hope Is Lost (Again).


The Cleveland Indians dropped their first Spring Training game today, meaning there will be six more weeks of winter in Cleveland, another losing season for the Tribe, and no economic recovery in the city for at least another seven years. Mayor Frank G. Jackson shrugged his shoulders and said, “That certainly wasn’t unexpected. That is what we do here. The NFL Draft is less than two months away. It is this town’s only salvation.”

Many Clevelanders were not a resigned as the mayor. “This is some bullshit, man,” said Kevin O’Leary at the West Side Irish Club. “I pay my taxes, clothe my kids in Indians gear, and for what? When is this team ever going to give something back? And they wonder why I haven’t gone to a game since 2004! Thank God the NFL draft is almost here. I think this is the year we finally get a QB!”

“This was supposed to be our year!” cried Tom Bankowski. “A new Public Square, and Parmatown Mall is going be converted into open air shopping. Open air shopping in Northeast Ohio! What a concept. The Indians could not even hold up their end of the bargain. All they had to do was beat the Reds today to give us some hope. The Reds! They are practically a AAA team these days. With Shapiro gone, the path to redemption – hey, is that a mock draft sheet you have in your hand?”

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One At a Time


MLB’s secret plan to eradicate all Canadians from baseball took another step forward today when Andrew Case, a Blue Jays’ player from New Brunswick, was suspended fifty games for failing to show up for a drug test.

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Jilted Troy


Troy Tulowitzki appears to still be playing the jilted lover, still complaining about get traded to a winning team last season from the abysmal Colorado Rockies. He even leveled a shot at the Rockies’ spring training facility at Salt River, calling it a country club that allowed players to get comfortable, and he would rather be in Dunedin. You know what makes a player comfortable, Troy? Extended trips to the DL. But you go ahead and pretend that playing in the hood at Dunedin will help you keep it real.

Tulowitzki is also under the false impression that he won’t be traded again during this contract. He will be one of the first guys Mark Shapiro moves when Shapiro begins his five year rebuilding plan (if healthy), which should commence before the Indy 500. Enforcer Eric “Jim Beam in the Dugout” Wedge should start giving Tulowitzki the stink eye any day. Wedge better be careful though – too harsh of a glare might put Tulowitzki back on the DL.

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