From Jesus to Judas to Who Give's a Shit

So looks like Johnny Damon might be a Brave next year and I couldn't care less. Let the record show, I used to love Johnny. I was one of his biggest fans and defenders. I heard plenty of disses about him throwing like a 6 year old girl (from the few Yankees fans I tolerate and several of my more indignant Braves' buddies), but I defended him. I did. "He hits in the clutch, he's a threat to steal bases, he's a game changer!" I'd say.

But then that neanderthal looking fuck packed up his bags and headed to the dark side for the MLB equivalent of bus fare. Amongst Red Sox Nation he immediately went from Jesus to Judas with a single stroke of a pen. So, needless to say I don't care to defend his weaknesses anymore. How quickly things can change. And now he might be coming to my hometown and I find myself caring very little.

I do however look forward to the wonderful irony of listening to the same jackass nay-sayers who belittled Damon's impact with the Sox, start hailing him as the Braves new savior. I indulged in this hobby seldom after his move to New York because I only know a handful of Yankee fans and even less I care to speak to. But now, I'm sure there will be plenty of people to discuss Damon with and the shoe will definitely be on the other foot.

BUT! Not so fast Bravos. He's not a done deal just yet. Let us not forget about his slippery-fuck agent, the man single-handedly trying to destroy baseball, SCOTT BORAS. The same guy I can almost without hesitation assert, recommended Manny Ramirez shut it down mid-season, pushing ownership to trade him to LA. Boras is already playing his little games telling the Braves that Johnny has a two-year offer from someone (The Pandora Fire Birds perhaps?) but that Damon really wants to play in Atlanta. Similar to statements made two weeks ago about Damon's desire to play in Detroit.

The best thing about Damon potentially coming to Atlanta is that a dream of mine might finally be realized. I have, for quite some time now, wanted to look Johnny Damon in the eye and tell him to fuck himself. Perhaps if we are sharing a city this dream might become a reality. Maybe he'll be slumming it one night drinking at a bar and then I'll see him. And he'll get his up and comings. Oh yes! A piece of my mind he will receive. Ok so what will probably happen is this: I'll see him. Call him a fag under my breath and then thank him for the '04 World Series, offer to buy him a drink and say "Welcome to Atlanta." See, I'm not a total dick.

Write On,

Ross