08:10 PM ET 03.13 |
The Dutch language elegantly refers to baseball as honkball, which makes their team the world's greatest honkies. Lately the world has been getting a college education in Dutch baseball, or Honkbal Hoofdklasse. Look at it this way, these guy don't need steroids, they have world-class reefer, which is totally legal there. Michael Phelps, eat your heart out! If they catch Sidney Ponson **** a bong, he doesn't have to say he's inhaling Vicks for a chest cold.
I'm not going to bore the reader with lame jokes about how this Dutch team can run bases in wooden shoes. I wouldn't do a stoopid thing like that. This World Baseball Classic is full of shockers, like the Italian team beating Canada. Try to figure out how a motley bunch of meatball heroes beat a Canadian team full of MLB stars! I said it before, and I'll say it again: the Canadian team was putting out bad vibes. Anyway, the Italians are flat as a pizza now after their pitching totally collapsed and the Venezuelans used them for a homerun derby until they just got tired of hitting any more and decided to go out for a little fielding practice.
Never mind that. I'm convinced the Dutch team put a zombie hex on the Dominicans, who all believe in Santeria, scaring and paralyzing them with fear by sending them dolls with pins stuck in them and bloody chicken heads. This is historical fact. The island of Hispanola, shared by the Dominican Republic and Haiti is the world voodoo capital. Aruba and Curacao are historical pirate redoubts. What you had here was "Pirates of the Caribbean" with baseballs.
In the Second Round the Dutch have to go up against Venezuela's big bats, as well as Puerto Rico, who already stomped them 6-0, and the U.S., who aren't likely to be impressed by any boiling cauldrons with goats' heads floating around in them. This round will likely witness The Kingdom of Orange being crushed to concentrate and shipped home as orange juice.
There is so much baseball going on that I am going cross-eyed trying to keep up with it. Mexico avenged itself on Australia, putting it on the freakin barbie and grilling it 12-1, and sending it hopping back home like a kangeroo, despite the fact that Australian pitchers have a secret pitch that turns around in mid-air and flies back to the mound. The second round in LA promises to be World War III all over again, with Mexico, Cuba, Korea and Japan competing, but I am not getting it here in New York, which is really driving me nuts. I didn't get any First Round games from Mexico City, and I feel as though some ESPN executives should be buried up to their heads and used for home plate.
I am starting to understand why countries end up fighting pitched battles over sporting events. I tell you frankly, if Canada had defeated the U.S. in baseball, I would have supporting an invasion.
"****, freakin hoseheads! You think you're so hot? Let's see if you're still laughing when we invade your soil and rip off all your oil!"
Geez, what am I saying? All this sports is starting to disease my mind. Anyway, I'm not the only one. When Korea defeated Japan 1-0 in a seeding match to decide who plays whom in Round 2, Japan outfielder Ichiro Suzuki raged, "I want to CRUSH them!"
I think I need to chill out, drink some Dutch Heineken beers and watch some honkball.