Cocktail Hour w/ Keough: Not your Fathers Game of Baseball

| March 30, 2011 | Comments (3)

“Not Your Fathers Game of Baseball”

Remember that girl in high school that had tits like a bookshelf? Her ass was rock hard in Guess Jeans and you heard rumors that she was dating a college guy that drove a Mustang GT (basically-every awesome 80′s movie plot)? Much like me, you thought about her when you jerked yourself off from the age of 15 until 27. But when you went to your ten-year high school reunion and, said girl looked like she had been dinning on Hep-C ejaculations and Ketamine since the day after graduation. What a shame, she used to be so God Damn sexy!

Unfortunately, our National Pastime is the aforementioned chick from your personal 80′s movie.

Baseball lost its’ sexy long before the Strike and Steroid scandal were the opening stories on ESPN. Mantle, Ruth, Gehirg and Cobb have been nothing but folklore since The Acid Tests and birth control blossomed on to the American landscape. When stat geeks and fantasy gurus talk about baseball they now use the word romance. It’s like they are having a civilized discussion in an undergrad Fem-Lit class. I took Fem-Lit, and it sucked! I was the only guy with 23 girls and I didn’t fuck any of them…who wants to live through 162 games of that?

Pop culture junkies don’t want romance. We want: heat-of-the-moment, pull up my skirt, rip my panties off-fucks in an alley behind a seedy bar in an even seedier neighborhood. Baseball will never have the  spontaneity of a PubSlut and I have come to terms with that. But in all fairness, I do believe that it has the ability to give me occasional – yank me into the guest bathroom for a quickie after having a little too much to drink at a holiday dinner party. I really don’t think that I am asking a whole lot here.

We need to get personality back to the game of baseball. Take my cohorts at TheJist for example. They can find funny dirt on just about anyone or anything. When it comes to baseball-the only thing they can find print worthy is the price of Derek Jeter’s new home in Florida. Seriously? That’s about as exciting as a dry hump with an ex-wife. Where is Strawberry and Steve Howe in our time of need? Come on, I wanna here about players rifling through 8balls and stiffing strip clubs out of thousands of dollars for Champagne-Room escapades.

What do we get: Tim Lincecum smoking some pot.  It would be more entertaining to here that a guy that looks like he could have been an extra in Dazed and Confused was not smoking pot. Josh Hamilton relapsing-fuck man, the guy was a crack addict and then won the AL MVP. That’s nothing but a “feel good” story.  If I wanted that type of bullshit out of my athletes I’d watch The Sideline instead of Sports Center so I could at least stare at Sandra Bullocks dairy dispensers and wonder if she could fit both of my balls in her mouth.

There is only one solution for baseball to regain the moniker of National Pastime.  We need some dirt, some gossip, some millionaire twenty somethings acting like just that.  Maybe we need to reach out to the NBA and get them to commit to a Big Brother style program with MLB players. Take them out and show them how to have a REALLY good time with their tens of millions of dollars.  I mean lets get a little gun play and illegitimate children discussions going on at the start of Baseball Tonight. Can’t you just imagine the segment where they take it to the fake field in the studio: John Kruck has Oral Hershiser pinned down by the back of the neck to demonstrate to Karl Ravech just how Jacoby Ellsbury allegedly accosted an unwilling female Yankee fan in a suite of a posh Manhattan hotel?

O.K, I don’t think sexual assault is exactly what I want to here about. Unless, of course, it’s about a player from the Boston Red Sox that has found a longshoreman for a boyfriend in prison.

But, you get the point that I am trying to make. The only regrettable thing about baseball making a bid for it’s rightful title of National Pastime is that the steps it has to take to obtain it will most certainly give Peter Gammons a heart-attack. But then again, he’s the type of Baseball Blue-Blood that is still holding a flame for romance.

Be A Hero



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Category: Cocktail Hour with KEOUGH, SPORTS

Comments (3)

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  1. Old Fat Guy says:

    This Keough dude should be locked up in a subter-anal… pause for affect… room, attach nipple rings and wire him to an Edison original oscilloscope emitting multiple pulse shock values in an attempt to generate more amazingly poignant material.

    Only let him out to absorb the minimal requirement of solar radiation needed to sustain the vitamin A level required to maintain that thoroughly warped brain…

    Love it… Keough for President!!!

  2. Keough says:

    How good is “old fat guy” at scrabble and crossword puzzels? I had to look up at least 15 words in the dictionary that he used in his comment. Thank you “old fat guy” for adding to my list “impressive to help you get laid” list
    Be a Hero

  3. JAYDOG says:


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