I realize they are broadcasting to the "casual" fan who only turns in once a week or when the Yankees or Red Sox are on and to THAT fan I'm sure they love to get the story of Babe Ruth or how great Joe's Big Red Machine team was or don't even mind that Miller can't pronounce any ones name correctly.
Doesn't change the fact that I pray every week for a foul ball to bounce of one of their heads, ricochet onto the other one, rendering them both comatose so Orel Hershiser can actually get a word in edgewise since he's the ONLY one who makes sense.
They babble about movies, Joe's book, random celebrities in the stands, and other non-game related topics. It's like TMZ, only at the ballpark. And poor Orel has to be sitting there thinking "My nickname was the Bulldog, I was one of the best pitchers of my time, and I'm reduced to listening to these two clowns every Sunday night."
Look, I realize there are WAY more important things to worry about like the economy, that lunatic in North Korea, and whether Trot and Rakes will ever get the concept of flushing a toilet. I'm 40, have moderately high blood pressure and that isn't even counting the fact Ciera is going to someday soon utter "Dad, I've got a date this Friday".
I just can't help myself; those two start babbling and I'm that much closer to taking a tire iron to the television.
Ang is hoping I'll eventually grow up someday.
Do We Mean What We Sing?
7 hours ago