Okay, okay. We admit it. Perhaps we have been making just a few too many blasphemous & distastefull jokes over the last year or two. Hey God: we were only jokin'. Seriously.
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We weren't sure if God was upset about Jerry Falwell croaking, or if he'd just had enough, already with our bullshit... but it sure looked like he was pissed Tuesday night. It rained, thundered, and the wind blew in 40 mph gusts - in every direction. All the while, our little Gorillas were standing out in the field watching youngsters run around the bases.
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When Melon didn't show up till the 4th inning, we knew it was us that had the All-Mighty all in a tissy. And boy, did we regret this post from last year.
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But hey, it was just game one of an 11 game summer season. Yah, we got our asses handed to us this time. But we'll get another shot at those little fuckers, what with their boundless energy, hot girlfriends, and ability to catch fly balls. And when we get that next chance: we won't suck as much. Especially Gerthy.
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Having made His point Tuesday - and really, most of the spring league - the Big Guy gave us a lovely day on Wednesday. Which was good, since the Gorillas were vying for their fifth straight league championship. All we had to do was win two. A heady task, considering we were all bruised & battered from the night prior. Luckily, we had an hour off between games to drink replenishing fluids and strategersize. And so on.
We won, of course..
Because that's what we do.
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That's all we do.
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We don't know if our Spring League Championship trophey will look much like the one pictured here...but we do plan on wearing a cheerios hat, golf spikes, and a man-ziere when we passionately make out with it.
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How you celebrate is up to you and your beliefs.
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God, bless these Gorillas. (And Cracker.)
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