Mister Faded Glory | misterfadedglory.com

All right, so I’ve gone on and on about unveiling a forthcoming all-Colts, all-the-time blog. So sue me, I’m waffling on the whole idea. Probably not going to happen. It was basically, an effort to get a mention on Deadspin. Meh.

This space, however, will now begin to feature Colts rants interspersed with Cubs, Hawkeyes, and forthcoming Syracuse rants. Consider, the current Colts moratorium lifted, due to the onset of Monday’s mammoth Pats-Colts tilt — I’m still not totally sold on a brand-new Colts, but, I’m admittedly a devout believer up to this point.
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Uh, we could support the Dodgers. Yikes.

As Cubs fans, what does this mean? WHAT DOES THIS MEAN???? Well, probably nothing. We’ve hoped that we could pawn Dusty off on the Dodgers for some time (Wouldn’t be the first time they’ve taken crap off our hands).
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This morning, on a week in which neither the Iowa Hawkeyes nor the Indianapolis Colts took the field was, I found the following score a little sobering.

Now, I watched some of this game. The hype surrounded Northwestern’s vaunted offense, and if they could win this home game, they would be tied — four ways — atop the Big Ten. In fact, the graphic across the screen listed the top six Big Ten teams, and at the bottom, was Iowa.

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Well, this is the look you’re getting for a while. So live with it. Just a couple minor things, while we move toward the weekend and wonder:

“Why has no one, ever, begun a viable Indianapolis Colts-blog?”

Hmm. That bit of foreshadowing aside, we’d be remiss if we didn’t move on and congratulate not-mine, but your own Chicago White Sox, removed from the prison cell of bitter fandom, leaving the Chicago Cubs with no more roommates. I’m not happy for the White Sox. I’m not annoyed with their fan base. I’m not anything. In fact, I think the best Cub fan perspective I’ve seen on the Series is here (of course), it’s Ruz’s, and it’s correct. Plus, I also hate AJ Piersdlkafj;dslafjk. What a tool. However, White Sox fans will love him forever. So, grudgingly, and perhaps in response to the litany of idiotic “Cub fans revolt, hate their lives, blah blah blah” stories around, even Mr. Faded Glory will light up a roll of ditchweed, don a wifebeater, get a snake tattoo, move into a trailer, and assault a defenseless coach — all in praise of the White Sox. Congrats!

One more final note — though I pulled for the Astros (Seriously, how bad was the NL this year? None of the playoff lineups were scary after one or two batters. No one’s lineup outside the playoffs was any better. All the more reason for Cubs fans to pound our heads against the wall.), it was fitting they were dispatched in four games. For weeks I’ve been telling anyone who will listen that Phil Garner is not a great manager, and that Brad Lidge is good, but completely hittable (Seriously, Thom Brenneman called him the best playoff closer ever. Ever! Come on, Fox, we’re already watching. Stop trying to sell it to us! If Mariano Rivera were dead, he’d be spinning in his grave.)

But I’ve also tried to reason with anyone who’ll listen — and I’m not alone here — that Roger Clemens is a horribly overrated playoff performer.

I can remember one good start — the 2001 Game 7, a game which Rivera ultimately lost. But in others (not always his fault, not always the team’s fault, but, you know) he’s never been, well, great.

Boston’s 1986 Game 6, he was good, but left early. New York’s 2003 game against Florida, he lost late on an Alex Gonzalez homer. In a 1999 LCS against Boston, he got shelled.

Jack Morris. Curt Schilling. Dave Stewart. Pedro Martinez, Orel Hershiser, Tom Glavine, Jose Rijo — these are great playoff pitchers. . But, with little time nor actual care about Roger, I never researched it to find out if my theory was actually sound.

However, Keith Olbermann has taken care of that. In a prescient and stunningly complete post, he debunks the Myth of Roger Clemens. Check out his must-read scathing indictment. Point made.

Just bear with the site’s look for a short time, MFG is going through some changes, most of which are inadvertent, due to the fact that I’m clueless. What, you thought I was going to spend the entire day making fun of Jim Edmonds?

I should be concerned about my particular favorite baseball team only, right?

Right? So I shouldn’t necessarily care about this. I shouldn’t hate myself. I shouldn’t hate other teams. I shouldn’t hate other fans. I shouldn’t hate.

Well, if you shared a cell with two other inmates for 100 years, and you were all guilty of the same crime, and one was let out last year, and the next was let out this year, and you were still in … Well, you may be happy for them, but you’d be pretty fucking bitter yourself, wouldn’t you?

I hate baseball. I hate sports. I hate being a Cubs fan, but I love the Cubs. And that’s the only curse. We just want to win.

Okay, so game time is coming soon, and as half of Chicago waits in breathless anticipation (the half smoking ditchweed and living in their parents’ trailers), it would be remiss not to look a scant two years backward …
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Isn’t it fitting? Angels to our rescue.

And apocalypse averted.

Won’t be easy. The spawn awaits next round, followed by either the minions or the beasts.

Off work today, but after reading Peter King’s Monday Morning Quarterback,(Favre from Done or Still Leader of The Pack — you choose the cliched headline) I would have thought federal offices were closed because it is Brett Favre’s birthday, instead of some other bizarre holiday. Ye gods. King writes about five soliloquys a year to Favre — making him no different than most other sports journalists.
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Some of us have been busy during the end of the week’s news cycle.

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