Okay, that was just horrible… Francis Scott Key is must be rolling over in his grave.
So I worked late and hurried home, then into the shower after quickly pausing the DVR at the introductions. I was so excited about watching the Rays actually in the Series that I could barely get through lather, rinse, repeat. After hurriedly drying off and throwing on some shorts, I settled into the recliner to watch the game. Fast-forward through the Philly lineup (who gives a fuck, right?) and listen to the cheers for the home team, and then came Armageddon.
Whose idea was it to invite the Mickey Mouse club to sing The Star Spangled Banner anyway? Bad enough they looked like an ensemble of fluffers on their way to some gay porn shoot, they came with their own arrangement of our national anthem too. I get it, you can move your hands when you sing and it magically seems to change the pitch of your voice. What kind of namby-pamby barbershop quartet bullshit was that? That song is supposed to conjure images of naval battles, patriotism and fighter jets flying overhead. It is supposed to remind me how much I love this country and how fortunate we all are to be American citizens. I am not supposed to find myself wondering what the performers would sound like being eaten alive by a pack of jackals on the grounds of Fort McHenry. Do you think any of them even know what the word “rampart” means? No, it is not a component of a Dodge truck nor is it something all four of you douchebags could do simultaneously to Britney Spears. I wonder if they each got a copy of the lyrics with phonetical spelling so they didn’t get confused.
Can’t wait to see who they parade out for the remaining games, may be Roseanne is available for an encore crotch-grab… Gotta go, I just missed the first at-bat.