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Welcoming The Weekend, Sort Of, I Don’t Know

With everything going on in the world, I wasn’t sure if I was going to post this week. Sure it’s nonsense on a good day but now it feels trivial.

Tropicana Field Nighttime by Eric Kilby is licensed under CC BY SA-2.0

Welcoming The Weekend, Sort Of, I Don’t Know


Estimated Reading Time: 4 Minutes

With everything going on in the world recently I wasn’t sure if I was going to post one of these this week. Sure it’s nonsense on a good day, but now it somehow feels even more trivial. I got to thinking though, maybe some people want a small escape, if even for a moment, from the crushing weight of the way life currently is.

I am a straight white guy so I won’t sit here and blabber on about how it has made ME feel or impacted MY life because who cares. Instead, I’ve decided to post one of the first things I ever wrote when things seemed simpler and the only anger on my mind was directed towards inanimate objects. So if you do need a small break, carry on, if you want to continue to feel all the feelings of the moment, also your prerogative and I get it.

I hope you enjoy, or don’t, and that you are on the right side of history when this is hopefully taught as a turning point in our countries’ history years from now. (Also, I like to stay away from politics but this is not a political issue, it is basic quality. I can’t believe this needs to be said because it seems so obvious but yeah Black Lives Matter, get it through your heads, dummies, and knock off this all lives shit. Just get it, man, please just get it).

Monday Morning Malice: The Trop – July 10th, 2017

Florida is the fucking worst.  It’s a place for dads who abandon their families and dumb people that are too stupid to realize California exists.  Florida is the reason I’m in favor of global warming.  I’m not a climatologist, but it feels safe to assume that that waste of beach will be the first place to fall into the sea.  In the midst of this cesspool of pointlessness is Tampa Bay.  By Florida standards, it’s a vibrant Mecca of culture and progress. But, it is also home to the most terrible structure man has ever mistakenly erected.  The building: Tropicana Field.  

It ranks up there with the South Fork Dam and the Pemberton Mill as one of biggest engineering failures known to man.  I would even give it the nod over those two as at least they had the decency to collapse.  Even though there may have been higher body counts associated with those disasters, I would contend that they are dwarfed by the depression based suicides that the Trop has caused during its 19 years of existence.  

I can’t even take solace in the fact that they are Floridians because Rays fans are so fucking terrible that every game is flooded with the opposing team’s fans.  

As for the building itself, calling the interior boring is an insult to boredom.  The banality of every single aspect of this stadium could be considered artistic, if it wasn’t all done as a serious attempt to construct a destination for entertainment.  It’s as if a color blind nihilist was given free range to put this zero of a stadium together with no outside supervision.  There is nothing fun or uplifting about this place, and that doesn’t even take into account the sorry excuse for a product they put on the field year after year.

I don’t blame them.  The organization is actually doing the people of their city a public service by giving them an unwatchable group of players that no one could spend 3 hours watching thus ensuring they don’t destroy what little happiness they may still have with whatever it is one considers a passable existence down in that swampy garbage state.  Even just watching a game on tv results in me having to book an extra visit with my therapist that week.  

With that said, we spend a lot of time as a society talking about second-hand smoke, childhood obesity, and the homeless epidemic, but real issues like this get swept under the rug.  I’m just glad I can do my part to shed some light on this poster child for abortion.  No one else has to suffer.  Together we can overcome.

The End.

That last paragraph…feels a bit insensitive today so I felt I should address it. This was written this 3 years ago as a complete joke if that was not clear. I hate having to explain jokes even though as we all know the funniest ones require detailed explanations. But, I am well aware of the internet in which we reside so here we are.

I hope you enjoyed this, or hated it, or just made you feel something different than what may be all consuming now. Either way. None of that post matters. Stay safe. I love you…like a friend.

Josh grew up in the midwest and upon graduating from the University of Iowa he wanted to see the world. After 4 years in Jacksonville he decided he was cultured enough and moved on to Birmingham England (known to the locals as the Detroit of the UK) and then west to San Francisco before settling in NYC. He pays his bills working in finance making sure the 1% remains on top. When he is not selling his soul and unable to look himself in the mirror, he spends his time writing mean things about sports while his dog, Sweet Dee, silently judges from her spot on the couch. He is very biased and never wrong. He would also like to thank Rotowire for never changing their NBA League Pass and MLB.TV passwords from that year when he was an NBA Beat Writer for the Nuggets for some reason.

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