Is It Real, Or Is It Mike And The Mad Dog?...

Is it just me, or have these two bozones gotten tons worse lately?

So, you want an example? Well, kiddies, you shall have it! I'm listening to these guys on Tuesday afternoon. Because, well, I listen to WFAN all day long at my desk, rain or shine, baseball or not, I guess it's just kind of an addiction with me. Anyway, so Tuesday, I'm listening to these two. And they're talking about the evening of baseball that's in store for New York fans. About the Return of Pedro. And the Inaugural Major League Start of Joba "Big Foot, Big Ass, Big Mouth, Big Everything" Chamberlain. And they're waxing poetic about all this baseball karma and baseball gods and apple pie and America's game and shit, and how this is a New York baseball fan's dream, and basically, well, basically coming in their pants over the whole fucking thing, if you will.

And I'm sitting there, and listening, and I'm actually buying some of this horseshit, couldja believe it? Don't tell anyone, but deep down in my heart, I still think life should be white picket fences, two cars in every garage, a chicken in every pot, and a baseball game to watch on the ol' big screen every night. A little food wouldn't hurt either, but that's for another day.

So yesterday, I'm listening to these bozones comme d'habitude, which for those of you who don't know conversant francais, means, like I generally do, like a fucking idiot that I am (I just threw that last part in there, no charge). And what do they do? They proceed to cut up the Yankees big time for starting Joba, and then turn their liver-lilied forked tongues upon the Mets for starting Pedro in the cold San Francisco weather. I believe some of the terms they used to describe the Mets were "nuts," "crazy" "stupid," and the like.

Now mind you, like I said above, they spent the better part of the previous afternoon hyping both the Yankee Joba Game and the Mets Pedro Game as if they were The Greatest Show on Earth, the 1986 World Series, the 1996 World Series, the 1997 World Series, the 1998 World Series, yada, yada, yada, and the second coming of Christ, all rolled up into one. Or two, should I say.

As if that weren't enough to turn the stomach, then, of all things, Deputy Dope Dog turns his wit that he wishes was rapier but is sadly for him in reality only half-wit, to, of all things, now, get this.... the piece Kevin Burkhardt of SNY did on Keith Hernandez, you know, the little tour of where Keith grew up, where he played, etc. Now I ask you, how could any reasonable human being have a fucking problem with that piece????

I suppose the term "reasonable" in that sentence is where the worm turns, my friends.

I'll tell you what I LOVED, though, that almost made listening to them bearable yesterday. One of the callers really totally called them out, so much so that they really cooled their jets a bit afterwards.

I think some of the words the caller used to describe them were "moronic," "hypocrites," "losers," and maybe there were a couple more.

All of which I agree with, in case you haven't figured that out. Look, I've known for years these two simply can't be taken seriously, but they've traveled the road from annoying entertainment to the pit stop known as help me, oh, God, please help me...

And I'll leave you with one more example of unexcellence in sports broadcasting. Another memorable Mike & The Mad Dog Moment, if you will. I'm in the car, coming back to work from lunch, earlier this year, and Francesa is telling all the world about Joba Chamberlain. He's unhittable. He's a star. He's a God. He's The Real Deal. The league can't figure him out. He's unhittable. Oh, I said that one already, but that was Francesa's main thing, that Joba is "unhittable." I mean, he's going ON... and on... and on.... carrying on as if he were going to come in his pants, once again, over yet another baseball related thingy.

And I'm sitting there, laughing my fucking ass off.

Why? You ask?

Well, I'll tell you why. It's only about FIVE GAMES INTO THE FUCKING SEASON.

Let's just say that sometimes, Mike Francesa sounds like the wrong end of one of them there horses he owns.