Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Epithetery At (The East Coast's) Angel From Hell, Mike Scioscia
HE HAS been a menace to us for damn near 30 years now, the thorn in our side, the cloud in our coffee, the bee in our bonnet, the fly in our ointment, the clouds on our sunny day. He has been our nemesis, our arch-enemy, our tormentor, our antagonist and our antagonizer. He inflicts misery for sport. He is a serial baseball sadist.Via BTF.
He is Mike Scioscia, from Upper Darby, Pa., by way of Hell.
And he will soon be back on our doorstep, back within our borders, back with a mission to continue his reign of terror. He is one of the nightmares that keep coming back. There is the one where you are falling, with no floor in sight. There is the one where you show up for a final exam in a class you haven't once attended all semester. And there is the one where Mike Scioscia walks into a New York baseball October.
Make it stop! In the name of all that is holy . . . MAKE IT STOP!!"
"There are a lot of things I think about when I think of my time with the Mets, and most of them are good thoughts," Ron Darling told me a few months ago, standing around a clubhouse at Citi Field when all of a sudden . . . he was on the television screen. "And that" -- he pointed at the screen, where you could see the wheels in Mike Scioscia's head spinning even from 3,000 miles away -- "is not one of them."