As the mongrelization and usurpation of white America continues unabated, Major League baseball has, in their unending quest to ruin our erstwhile national pastime and appease the race hustlers, decided Negro League statistics should commingle with centuries of MLB stats. Thus, Josh Gibson has leapfrogged Babe Ruth and several others to, just like that, rise to the top of a number of long-held and cherished batting record lists.
Never mind that the Negro League seasons were generally only 40-50 games, and a majority of those were competed on barnstorming tours and exhibitions against former major leaguers. It’s the classic case of apples to oranges, but the powers to be have decreed that whitey must go, and so Josh Gibson is now God’s gift to baseball. His body of work consists of 602 games played in 14 Negro League seasons–the equivalent of approximately four major league seasons– with record-keeping of largely unverified and dubious sourcing.
Still…Josh Gibson is the best baseball player the world has ever seen…BECAUSE THE LIBERAL MEDIA SAYS SO! This, of course, begs the obvious question: will MLB now start recording statistics on most baby mommas in a career? Most strip club pistol whippings in a single season? And what if Pacman Jones decides to pursue a baseball career? Does he get grandfathered in as the all-time leader in club bouncers paralyzed?
Because I do so love to see liberals choke on the shit sandwich they force on the rest of us, it was with particular glee that I watched a liberal Maui wildfire victim castigate the Maui County Council for their criminal negligence during the Lahaina conflagration. “She was a liberal, you say? How can you tell?” Well it was easy really…Christine Borge is her name, and she has all the symptoms and earmarks that define that feral species–wild gesticulations, overt racism, glaring contradictions, failure to identify the real problem, and of course, physical unattractiveness. I waffled for a moment, I must confess, when I didn’t see a face diaper, but when she led her diatribe with a screed about cultural insensitivity, the darkness of her skin, and the evil mainlanders, I knew I had bagged a real live liberal.
Borge continues to remonstrate about being a “forced American, not a proud American,” while all the time begging for largesse from the very country she hates. The typical dim liberal, Borge blames it all on whitey while continuing to vote for the big government that didn’t just allow, but actually created, the havoc and deathscape that has engulfed the beautiful island.
Now, predictably, Borge is being painted as a sympathetic figure by conservative news outlets eager to blame the chaos, and rightfully so, on the entirely-Democrat Lahaina, Maui, and state governments behind the fiasco. I first encountered the Borge video on a conservative website, but was only shown a 54-second clip where she gores the proper ox…that is the feckless bureaucrats with (D) next to their names. But since I trust NO ONE on ANYTHING, I did some research and found a 5-minute clip of her entire rant. It was here I discovered that she was a bigot whining about aid workers whom she claimed regarded her and fellow victims “like leprosy people…in our dark skin.” Lesson #1: NEVER TRUST THE MEDIA, WHATEVER SIDE THEY CLAIM TO BE ON. Lesson #2: It’s always the people bitching about race that are the biggest racists.
Borge goes on to vilify “people from the mainland who are culturally insensitive,” and then foments more division by asking, “Who is it benefitting, us or America?” Us or America? Ponder that one for a moment.
But since she is a card-carrying liberal, bereft of any abstract thought or self-awareness, Borge tells the very same people she hates to come to the island and spend money since she, as a hospitality worker, needs them. “Tourists…come. We love you. We have Aloha. You gave us money through donations. We’re not saying don’t come. Come…because you will be helping us.” But she doesn’t want to be American and she hates haole. Got it.
Since no teachable liberal moment is complete without stultifying stupidity, Borge pisses and moans about the emerging notion of Maui being used as a satellite city—the Bill Gates and NWO-inspired serfdoms where the elite and filthy-rich like Barack, Big Mike, Jeff Bezos, and fat ass Oprah can lord on their own private paradises without having to muck about with the peasantry. Yet it’s the aforementioned scumbags and Democrat politicians whom Borge votes for that are pushing the satellite city concept. And she still voted for those very people.
But how, you might wonder, do I really know that Christine Borge voted for Democrats? Again, it was really easy. Hawaii has a Democrat governor, two Democrat senators, two out of two Democrat representatives in the House, and voted for Joe Biden at a 63% clip in 2020. In the 16 presidential elections since attaining statehood in 1959, Hawaii has voted 14 times for Democrats, the only two outliers being the landslide victories of Nixon and Reagan. Hometown hero Barack Obama, who has been notable for his absence during this debacle, was elected at over 70% both times he ran.
Furthermore, Maui’s despicable mayor, Richard Bissen, and all his toadies, are Democrats. Now since I use practical math and not COVID math, laws of probability say that old Christine pulls the (D) lever every four years with nary a single thought, and then probably tosses in a couple mail-in ballots for good measure.
I never thought I could delight in the misery of others, and I’ve always welcomed opposing viewpoints, but when those viewpoints are always delivered with such venom and smugness, I feel no shame in dancing on some graves. Lap it up, Christine, you voted for it.
So the PGA Tour in its unrelenting effort to debase itself and be exactly what it has mocked and decried the past year by imitating LIV Golf’s small field, no-cut tournament structure has now seized on another shiny thing which has already proven to be as dull and uninspired as its walking interviews with the players as they play their shots. Seems the Tour strong-armed Justin Thomas into using a BagCam at the Valspar Championship last week so TV viewers could suffer another intrusive device that yields nothing of interest, but does alienate the very fans it should be trying to keep.
The PGA Tour just can’t seem to figure out what it wants to be, and so keeps running bad ideas up the flagpole to see which ADHD mouth-breathers will salute. Instead of breaking real ground by…you know…showing actual golf shots, NBC decided to get us “up close” by attaching a camera to J.T.’s bag. The results were fascinating! You can imagine the slack jaws across the country as golf fans were treated to this must-see television. Fans got the real low-down and nitty gritty on exactly what a Justin Thomas headcover looks like. Glorious and resplendent with the Titleist TSR logo and everything, these headcovers were truly a thing of majesty, allowing us to really get the scoop on life inside the ropes.
Headcovers! Riveting television (Golf Channel)
Bones feels the burn (Golf Channel)
Presumably someone performed a test run on this idea before foisting it on the public, but whoever it was surely reads in Braille. On first inspection it was an utter failure delivering 15 seconds of the aforementioned headcovers and a panoramic view of Thomas’ caddie Bones Mackay stretching it out, but then NBC kept going to the well. Moments later we got a tight shot of J.T. looking at his yardage book (because we simply don’t see enough of golfers poring over their yardage books). Time and time again they went back to the BagCam, and time and time again it was disastrous—the viewer saw nothing of interest but for one moment. The tension was palpable when we got a ground-level look at Bones picking the bag off the ground and walking down the fairway with it. You can imagine my disappointment when Cara Banks failed to interview the headcovers. “Alright, Mr. DeMille, I’m ready for my close-up.”
While LIV flails about with its “Golf, But Louder” shibboleth that has brought nothing but paltry ratings on its 3rd-tier network, the PGA Tour keeps seeking the low ground with a slogan of its own. “Golf, But Slower.”
Instead of trying to lure viewers with parlor tricks and insipid mid-round interviews, the Tour needs to do something about Thomas and his glacial pace of play. He draws two clubs from the bag for every shot he takes, and then performs the Labors of Hercules before deciding which to hit. Sadly, in a twosome with his good buddy Jordan Spieth, Thomas is the fast player. Spieth plays a round of golf as a fly would take a swim in a bowl of maple syrup.
The Tour fails to understand that the reason LIV is going down the tubes is because at the end of the day, golf tournaments must attract people who like golf. The bells and whistles can only prop you up for so long, and eventually those who don’t like golf to begin with will move on to other things. The PGA Tour needs to stop trying to be all things to all people, and instead should indulge its base—those that like and follow golf.
It can certainly be no accident that BagCam was introduced at the Valspar, because between Thomas’ languid pace and Spieth’s dawdle up the leaderboard, the tournament was like watching paint dry.
Spieth and caddie ponder the mysteries of a 100-yd wedge shot (Business Insider)
“Golf is a good walk spoiled,” Mark Twain may or may not have said, but someone said it, and just as cancel culture has demanded bowdlerization of many Twain classics, so too should this phrase be amended. “Golf is a good crawl spoiled” now seems far more apt in consideration of the six and seven hour slogs now deemed normal on the PGA Tour.
Scottie Scheffler picked up another convincing win Sunday at a Tournament Players Championship beset by ponderously slow play, that in the end, worked to his benefit. This week’s tournament marked the fifth consecutive time that Friday’s second round had to be completed over the weekend before a cut line could be established. In a rapidly changing sports landscape where brevity is desired (or so they say) and even the glacial pace of baseball is being cattle-prodded with a pitch clock, the PGA Tour continues to look the other way while players and caddies hold ten-minute symposiums on each and every shot, and groups on the green resemble garden snails on a lazy afternoon, casually lining up putts without a care in the world.
Scheffler played in the afternoon group on Friday and was only able to complete 10 holes as high winds and hard greens seemingly ossified the best players in the world. Play was suspended at 4:27 EST and Scheffler teed off at 12:56—it took him 3 hours and 31 minutes to play 10 holes! That translates to a six-hour and twenty minute round. And since he started on the front nine, he never came close to having to deal with the treacherous 17th-hole island green, or the equally treacherous water looming along the left side of the 18th hole. These holes are the most difficult on the course and balls were finding water all afternoon as if they were divining rods, but almost 40 players never had to play them with the super windy conditions, and with greens baked dry by the afternoon sun. Instead, Scheffler and a slew of others got to go home for the night, have a nice meal, a nice slumber, and then tackle these holes Saturday morning in windless conditions with soft pristine greens. Notions of competitive imbalance created by the stoppages were conveniently not discussed.
Media darling Jordan Spieth is one of the worst offenders. He and caddie Michael Greller are likeable fellows and Spieth’s wizardry around the greens is special to watch, but the two of them talk over every shot as if they’re splitting the atom. No detail is too small, and the two navel-gaze over every decision like the fate of the world is at stake. These tedious interactions are then followed by an endless series of practice swings before Jordan finally settles in to take a swipe at the ball. Then a post-analysis follows as Jordan waves his hands and complains about the wind direction or his club selection before finally moving up the fairway. Jordan is also part of the forever-growing “stroll club” whose members find it perfectly fine to walk all the way up to the green and back on 130-yard shots to assess their landing spots. They never make these strolls hastily either; it’s all about me.
Jordan’s good pal Justin Thomas plays like molasses as well. He and caddie Bones Mackay have afternoon tea before every move as they breezily discuss routine shots. My weekend foursome makes it around in 4 to 4 ½ hours and we’re hitting it all over the lot, but three PGA Tour players in a group can’t get finished in over six hours. It’s ludicrous, and it should stop. The PGA Tour pooh-bahs are in the process of bastardizing the game to fend off the LIV Tour encroachment, but they fail to address a simple issue that has been a problem for years and that is making the game insufferable for many viewers, not to mention the bettors the Tour now heartily engenders, who are left twisting in the wind (joke intended) with the fuzzy demarcation of rounds carrying over to the next day.
With the Tour now bending over backwards to embrace ideas they scoffed at a year ago when LIV introduced them, they might be wise to consider the shotgun starts of the rival tour. I hate the idea, but in the absence of any penalties for slow play, I fear many of the peach-faced golfers we see teeing it up in the morning may be sporting full beards by the time they make it back to the clubhouse.
If a golf tournament is held on the CW network and nobody watches, does it make a sound?? Ha ha!! The abortion that is the LIV Golf tour teed off at Mayakoba on Friday, and it apparently held as much appeal as a root canal on your birthday. A laughable 0.2 Saturday market share laid bare the fact that the only people that ever tuned in were dipshit millennial yahoos titillated by a promise of “Golf, but louder,” that in the end only produced the sound of a wet fart. If the dismal ratings weren’t enough to paint a picture of gloom and doom, surely the sight of LIV promotional slates during commercial breaks was.
Word on the street is that LIV entered into an agreement with the indiscernible CW network in which their leverage was so weak they weren’t even paid a rights fee, but instead were cuckolded in an ad revenue-sharing deal. Problem was there apparently was very little revenue to share. A majority of the commercial breaks featured LIV slate boards, the type you see on 3am infomercials when there aren’t enough eyeballs for any viable entity to purchase commercial time.
Anyone with an IQ above room temperature saw this coming last year when it was obvious that the only people paying attention were there for anything but the golf. The promise of “big names” breaking from the staid PGA Tour has been swamped by the stark reality that the league is really a compendium of “superstars” mailing it in. All the big names fell flat this week as it becomes obvious that where there’s no incentive, there’s no desire.
Cameron Smith shot a respectable 6-under, but the other sellouts expected to draw the big crowds were virtually invisible. Phil Mickelson was 1-over for the week in what could actually be deemed progress considering his wretched performance last year. The rest of the league stalwarts were equally dreary: Brooks Koepka also was 1-over in what for many surely conjured visions of his epic battle with Mickelson at the PGA Championship in Kiawah less than two years ago. Snort! Meal ticket Dustin Johnson dazzled at 4-over while Patrick Reed took time from suing anyone who could fog a mirror to post a remarkable 5-over. Bubba made his playing debut with a scorching 6-over while perennial small fish in a big pond Lee Westwood joined Louis Oosthuizen at 8-over par. Sihwan Kim brought up the rear at 23-over but still robbed the vault for $120,000. Charles Howell III took home the trophy, making laughable the premise of many online dimwits that the PGA Tour’s opposing event at the Honda Classic didn’t have enough big names on the leaderboard for their tastes.
Oh, well! Such is the reality of guaranteed money. Some learn this ugly truth of life sooner than others; the others live in the gauzy world of mediocrity that they embrace through their support of college tenure, affirmative action, and participation trophies.
There is already speculation that Brooks Koepka is ready to pull the ripcord and bail on the league he smugly joined mere weeks after insisting his loyalty was with the Tour that made him laughably rich and famous. Many of the turncoats cited less play for more money, and more family time as incentive to join Greg Norman’s personal vendetta organization, but suddenly they’re whining for the chance to play the majors and several of the PGA Tour’s more glamorous events. This, on top of LIV’s change from eight to fourteen events this year, many in far-flung corners of the globe, uncovers the truth: obnoxious greed from a pampered collection of below-average wannabes and broken-down has-beens. My fingers are forever crossed hoping Jay Monahan sticks to his guns and slams the door on those that end up groveling to return to the fair meadows they sneered at while they were busy grabbing with both hands.
Greg Norman in a familiar pose (Sports Illustrated)
I couldn’t help but notice, as I checked in on the leaderboard at the Honda Classic today, that the man holding the lead was one of those downtrodden golfers that we’ve been told by LIV dupes for the past year are the bread and butter of the Tour—the players being systematically marginalized and forced to live in cardboard boxes in the clubhouse parking lot as they struggle to make cuts and earn enough soup money to drag themselves to the tee the following day. Friday’s leader, Justin Suh, is hardly destitute, but if you spend a moment in any golf chatroom, you’ll be overwhelmed by the wailing of the “equity” blockheads who insist that the Grayson Murrays of the world should be as well compensated as the Rory McIlroys and Jon Rahms. “These guys show up every week and don’t make any money if they miss the cut,” these simpletons, who can’t even distinguish the PGA from the PGA Tour, say, as they genuflect to LIV Golf for poaching a bunch of PGA Tour has-beens and PGA Tour never-beens like Andy Ogletree. Ogletree, who finished dead-last in LIV’s inaugural event with a flashy 24-over par in three days, earned a cool $120,000 for just showing up. Only 9 of 48 LIV players shot par or better in London that first week, yet Ogletree’s bounty was the lowest sum one could whore for.
Mind you, I care not one whit for the virtue-signaling hypocrite journalists who sermonize about the evil Saudi backers while giving a pass to Rory and others who take blood money from Dubai and other Middle East cutthroats while playing on the DP Tour. These pious scribes will still sip their craft beers at NBA games with complimentary tickets provided by the China-backed Adam Silver (looking at you Eamon Lynch and Brandel Chamblee). My beef with LIV is the simple ingratitude that Phil, Dustin, Brooks, Bryson, Patrick, and Cam have shown toward the PGA Tour which showered them with lavish amounts of money, courtesy cars, free meals, and fawning volunteers at every event, where their every whim is catered to and indulged. Abraham Ancer apparently was offended that he was only able to siphon $15 million for a seven-year career that features one win and 13 missed cuts in 19 events in his rookie year. And, of course, Greg Norman, LIV’s CEO and commissioner, who never met a man he couldn’t be rude to, made a fairly healthy buck pissing away 54-hole leads for 20 years.
But I digress…back to Justin Suh. The 25-year old USC product was a highly successful amateur player and may have a long and storied career ahead of him, but to this point he has made 17 of 37 cuts in the big leagues, and this season alone has earned $352,323 for not making it to the weekend in 4 of 12 starts. His highest finish is T20 and he currently stands 112th on the FedEx Cup list, but he’s already more than a third of the way to a million, and we’re not even out of February yet. Point being, the Bernie Sanders lick boots who think it’s everyone’s birthright to play golf for a living need to French kiss some facts before decrying the largesse that the PGA Tour has for years showered on a multitude of middling players. I wanted to play centerfield for the Yankees growing up, but it didn’t quite work out. That’s life, and if you’re a pro golfer slamming the trunk every Friday, you shouldn’t be crying for welfare, but instead should be applying for a sales job at the local car dealer.
Allow me some of the fascinating takeaways from Collin Morikawa’s mic’d up session on Saturday at the Genesis Invitational: It’s important to have a good short game if you play professional golf. Noted. Find an aiming point as you tee off. Noted.
One other takeaway: Sports journalists have to be the biggest mouth-breathing, “I like shiny things” morons that inhabit our planet. “All hail the mic’d up golfer as he rehashes information we’ve had network gasbags deliver to us for years,” the sports scribes bray. “Relish the ground-breaking revelation of Morikawa intoning that you’d like to be in the fairway on an upslope as you approach the green.”
Whew! Enough already! My brain simply can’t take it all in! But alas, this cadre of subject-verb disagreement experts, which considers re-tweets viable journalism, is mesmerized by the very thing that is plaguing all sports: too much talk and not enough action. Just as the NFL has become a miasma of huddles and officials reviewing plays with their heads under a blanket, all bookended by mush-mouthed morons like Bill Cowher and Shannon Sharpe butchering our fair language, golf television has, too, allowed itself to be taken over by everything except the game. Golf tv coverage has now morphed into a stream of players blithely strolling about the green for five minutes lining up 4-foot putts, or players and caddies alike poring over their yardage books before air-mailing the green. One wonders if PGA Tour players can take a dump without their yardage books. What is missing from golf telecasts is actual shots; no one in charge seems very concerned with that piffling aspect of the game.
So in an effort to enliven a slow game, let’s show less action and show more blathering. “Bring it on,” cry the Kyle Porters of the world, he a part of a subset of idiots that love having their hands held for everything, and that lack the imagination to intuit for themselves all the pedestrian nuggets Morikawa had to offer. And we won’t even consider the competitive advantage of the mic’d up golfer as he gets to discuss strategy and tactics with the two major winners sitting in the booth.
All in all, the mic’d up golfer adds nothing to the telecast, but for the ADHD viewers who love being spoon-fed the obvious. This is precisely the mentality that spawned LIV Golf, an artificial product germinated by people who hate golf in order to bring more “mashed potatoes”-screaming yahoos to the game they profess to love. And so goes our country, further circling the drain, catering always to the lowest common denominator.
Well it seems University of Tennessee head football coach Jeremy Pruitt has finally had his “Come to Jesus” moment. Pruitt at long last kicked scumbag Jeremy Banks off the team after a new video surfaced of the sophomore linebacker threatening to “smack” a woman after slapping a cellphone out of her hand as she attempted to put the miscreant’s behavior on the record. Banks, of course, had the requisite pants drooped down below his ass as he cursed, spewed threats, and proudly declared, “I been thuggin’.” The woman claims Banks has been harassing her for months.
Apparently a different video (below) earlier in the week of Banks using the King’s English to unleash profane threats at police officers while being arrested three weeks ago wasn’t enough for Pruitt to give up on the fine young man. Banks had been pulled over for a traffic violation and was then detained when police found an outstanding warrant.
Pruitt covered his player’s ass at the time with an insincere and scripted response:
“Jeremy’s (Banks) behavior and comments are unacceptable and portrayed himself and our football program very poorly and he understands that. We will address the matter internally. I’m determined to do what I can to help Jeremy grow up and become a better man. Our team and staff respect our law enforcement and we will continue to educate our players on how to carry themselves at all times.”
Not only is Pruitt a shitty coach (6-10 record in his 2nd year), he has questionable values. In this truncated version of the police video, you can’t see the “student-athlete” call his head coach in the middle of the night, looking to be let off the hook for what must be the umpteenth time judging by Pruitt’s discussion with the officers.
“So why do you, I mean, why do you have to arrest him just ’cause he’s got a warrant?” Pruitt can be heard saying over the phone. “This is the silliest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” Pruitt goes on to say, “I’ve worked at four places and never had no crap like this except for here.”
Pruitt previously worked at football factories Alabama, Georgia, and Florida State where criminality is de rigueur and filthy pond scum like Banks are routinely excused for their aberrant and criminal behavior. To his credit, Pruitt does finally relent and tells the cops to do their “civic duty.”
“While I will continue to support Jeremy in the next steps in his life, information I recently received made it clear that this decision is in the best interest of the football program and the university,” Pruitt said in announcing that Banks will be let go from the team and be free to go about his “thugging” in what will no doubt end in a prison term some time down the road.
These athletes are the people we’re told are being exploited and who are supposed to be paid for their fine contributions to the universities they represent. And of course, it won’t be long before Banks plays the race card.
A lifelong criminal spluttering a weak defense (businessinsider.com)
And this guy wants to be our president? After watching Joe Biden’s sputtering, unhinged lash-out at a reporter for asking a simple question, it’s painfully obvious that this demented and corrupt geriatric has no place near any halls of power.
The former vice president went absolutely off the rails on Friday when the doddering political lifer was asked about the shady dealings he and his cokehead son have had with Ukraine and China. Joe’s ne’er-do-well son, Hunter, armed with nothing more than a resume of several drug arrests, expulsion from the Navy for cocaine use, and an aptitude for banging his dead brother’s wife, apparently received millions from the aforementioned countries for his expertise in…well, no one really knows.
Look, dad, a coke dealer! (nationalreview.com)
The reporter merely made a query about the optically bad, if not outright criminal, conflict of interest in the pair’s business dealings, and Gropin’ Joe jumped on him as he might jump on a 10-year old girl visiting the White House.
“It’s not a conflict of interest. There’s been no indication of any conflict of interest, in Ukraine or anywhere else. Period,” Biden snarled as he jabbed his finger and gesticulated at the offending newsman, blithely nescient of the video below that shows him bragging about how he strong-armed the Ukrainian government into backing off an investigation into his malfeasance. Then, of course, he pivoted the conversation and started railing about Donald Trump. Pot…meet kettle.
Now Geriatric Joe has spent a lifetime sucking off the public teat and fending off allegations of serial corruption, plagiarism, and unwanted sexual advances, but it appears his biggest debility is his glass jaw and thin skin. The man who boldly brandished a chain to scare off gang leader “Corn Pop”, the man who brags regularly about his street cred toughness, and has boasted how if he were in high school he would take Donald Trump “behind the gym,” can’t even field one simple question from a pencil-necked scribe without caterwauling like a petulant child.
Now can you imagine what this wimp would do if his fawning acolytes in the mainstream media did to him for five minutes what they’ve done to Trump for the last three years? Imagine if he had to parry the non-stop attacks that Trump has had to endure on his family, his business dealings, his friends and associates, his taxes, his personal appearance, his every word and movement. Joe wouldn’t survive 30 seconds. He’s all bluster and tough talk–no substance and no action. Mostly he’s an unethical, rotten to the core charlatan who has been utterly bought and paid for.
Because liberals can never seem to get enough of telling others exactly how to live their lives, Oprah Winfrey admonished us all to heed her advice and get our flu shots. After developing a case of pneumonia from an overseas trip, Winfrey spoke on the “The Ellen DeGeneres Show,” and mooed, “Don’t play with it, get your flu shots. Get your pneumonia shots. It’s nothing to play with. It takes people out. But I’m telling you, it changed the way I look at wellness.”
As much as I do love getting “wellness” advice from a woman who’s spent her entire public life 80 pounds overweight, I think I can take quite good care of myself without her fat ass butting in. When it was noted that “TODAY” anchor Savannah Guthrie and “The View” host Whoopi Goldberg were also recently afflicted with the same infection, it occurred to me: Maybe it’s just a virus that affects unattractive, liberal, loudmouth asshole talk show hosts. If so, I’m rooting for a pandemic.
