I’m laid up here on the couch laid night trying to watch the Dodgers and Nationals game on MLB.tv, and there’s something that is causing me disturbance. What could make a man disgruntled when he is free of responsibility and The Great One is calling the game?
Then I see it. Josh Beckett is meandering and fiddle-fucking his way through the second hitter of the game.
I don’t know exactly how I began feeling this way, and there’s no stat for it. But is there a guy in the big leagues today who strikes you as more of a ‘just pay me every two weeks and lets go home’ type of guy?
It’s been so long since he was even in the decent category, yet I get the feeling that Josh Beckett feels he’s still amongst the elite. He takes forever in between pitches. He’s worse then Steve Trachsel’s Mets days. He’s horrible television. And he’s awful. Yet you get the feeling that Beckett probably thinks the reason he’s had a rough go of it the last five years is because of someone else’s doing.
When all else fails he probably retires to his soft 40,000 thread-count sheets and complains to his girlfriend that he’s ‘too good for the losers in Los Angeles’ and ‘at least he’s filthy rich’. You know he plays that card. Then his dog denies him affection because even this man’s pet knows he is an asshole.
I can’t wait until the game doesn’t include Josh Beckett. A true turd.