Monday, October 22, 2012


Sure, I'm too busy to be blogging all the time these days, but I'll drop in every once in a while, throughout the offseason, if something notable happens. Like, for instance, if the Marlins were to find a willing party to take a certain rotund non-closer off their hands, and still not have to pay a good portion of his salary.
Oh, hey, that happened!
The Marlins somehow convinced another team to take the world's most annoying human being from them, sending Heath Bell to the Diamondbacks (who, by the way, are totally thrilled about this) in a three-team deal that was more about addition by subtraction than anything else. That they didn't have to pay the majority of his ridiculous salary or staple his contract to a Josh Johnson trade is, for lack of a better expression, fucking awesome.
I spent a good amount of time defending Heath Bell this year (most notably, here). Not so much his inability to throw a baseball, but more his plight as a person struggling to come to grips with failure and Father Time. After all, it must be hard to wake up every morning, and not just not be able to do the thing you used to be great at, but also, not have any idea how to fix it.
Sympathy only goes so far, though.
Human beings fail, and I can accept that. We all should, really. We should rally behind that, even. But, as the year went on, the man shaped like his name did nothing but blame everyone and everything besides himself, and that's when you start to grate on people. Injury last year? I'm down with that. Cancer-stricken father? I understand. (Who wouldn't?) It's Showtime's fault? Um. Manager not supporting you, while all he did was publicly support you? Okay, now you're losing me. Hey, other guys suck, too? I mean, sure, but c'mon now. It was the sea creature race? WTF. You're pregnant?! [Rage.] JUST TAKE SOME FUCKING BLAME, ASSHOLE.  
I don't care that he wore one of my t-shirts. I don't care that he held up the line entering the stadium, just so I could take a picture with him. I don't care that there won't be any more MOTHER FUCKIN' DOVE BARS on the blog next year. Eff this guy.
Get outta my city, Heath Bell.  (/Zaslow voice)

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