Fuck who that I offend, rappers sit back I'm bout to begin...
After last week's euphoria of sweeping the Yankees, the Rockies have fallen on hard times. Check that, the Rockies have fallen on a bed of freaking nails covered with rubbing alcohol. Maybe Jorge Posada slipped Greg Brady's tiki statue into Brian Fuentes locker. Did they replace the post game Coors Lights with Natural Light? As Troy Tulowitzki morphs into the next Derek Jeter, the pitchers are morphing into a young Rick Vaughn. Did the stop in T-Dot piss off the Rockies who prefer regular bacon to the Canadian version. Did the series in Chi-town distract some Rox who wanted to retrace Ferris Bueller's tracks on his day off. Yeah, Brad Hawpe was always enamored with Abe Frohman, the sausage king of Chicago. And with the stop in Houston, it must be the candy paint and grills that has Todd Helton fiendin for a Swisha House tat. Is Yorvit Torrealba sending the signs to the pitchers in gang signs? Maybe Clint Hurdle's soul patch has a 4 inch hair coming out the middle that is really distracting.
Point is, whatever the fuck it is, they better figure it out. If not, the usual June Swoon around here will be greeted with the standard "when does training camp start?"