“Why are the Koreans rooting for Germany in the World Cup? Because they hate us, of course!”
…At least, so argues the Indepundit…
My take? Who cares? It’s freakin’ soccer.
Speaking of Koreans, though — did I ever tell you guys about my final minor league game, for Modesto in 1993? We beat Albuquerque 8-2, and I had a pair of doubles and a homerun — the homerun and one of the doubles coming off of a young Korean pitcher named Chan Ho Park.
Park had a good fastball and a good splitter even then (he was 20 at the time) but he was tipping his pitches — raising the index finger on his glove hand every time he was about to throw a breaking pitch.
And an 82 mph pitch ain’t too hard to hit when you know how it’s going to break, believe you me.
Yup. I really hit the sheeee-it out of that pitch.
Oh, come on. Where else but International soccer can you get <a href=”http://football.guardian.co.uk/worldcup2002/countries/story/0,11936,739693,00.html”>hilarious conspiracy theories</a> just because some team managed to rock the nads off an EU member?
Not only are the Italians crying foul, they also <a href=”http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/soccer/world/2002/world_cup/news/2002/06/19/ahn_perugia_ap/”>decided to seek personal revenge</a> against the guy who scored the “golden goal.”
If you want to see just how civilised the Europeans really are, just watch some soccer matches.
Freaky EURotards.
They’d scare me if they weren’t, y’know, Europeans.
<I>And an 82 mph pitch ain’t too hard to hit when you know how it’s going to break, believe you me.</I>
That’s nice. We’ve all got sports stories – like the time I struck out 5 times in a row at the slow pitch batting cage. Wicked spin on that ball, I tell you what. And when that stuff comes at you at 62, 64 miles an hour – man oh man, you know you’re in for a long afternoon. I got a blister. On my finger. But I persevered, and eventually I managed to hit a couple of hard fouls. This was two months ago.
I’m going to go re-decorate my Barbie Dream House now.
They say Rod Carew couldn’t hit a slow pitch softball, though he was a .330 lifetime hitter in the major leagues. Sometimes slower is more difficult.
Just ask Whitesnake.
You said it, mate:
<i>Take me down slow an’ easy,
Make love to me slow an’ easy
I know that hard luck an’ trouble
Is coming my way,
So rock me ‘til I’m burned to the bone,
Rock me ‘til I’m burned to the bone,
Rock me ‘til I’m burned</i>
Rock on!
Damn, Jeff, basball too? I was drafted (very, very low) out of high school as a left-handed pitcher but didn’t go. Thought I would get a lot better in college, didn’t, and that was that.
Just went to a Class A game in Niles, Ohio to watch my daughter sing the National Anthem. She kicked ass.