Tonight it's going to be slightly different. I'm going to write the commentary by Jon Miller and Joe Morgan, while I add the commentary (edited for content since this is assuming it would go on TV) of Douggy Bombs (he was talking to me in between fielding grounders, liners, concrete blocks, and tactical nuclear weapons), Jack Bauer, and myself, B.A. Baracus, right below. So enjoy.
In the first inning
Jon Miller: And there's a base hit into left field by Mike Lowell! Here comes Ellsbury! He scores! 1-0 Boston!
Joe Morgan: That's just great hitting right there, Jon. Mike Lowell is such an amazing hitter. The Red Sox should totally re-sign him for a 4 year deal worth $60 million.
Smart Stat Guy in the Back: I can't believe I am saying this, but...please listen to Joe, Epstein, you fucking pretty boy weenie. PLEASE...
Jon Miller: Totally agree, Joe. You'd know better than anyone else considering how deep your relationship with Mike Lowell is.
Smart Stat Guy in the Back: (runs and steals mike) That's what SHE said!
Jon Miller: Get outta here, you!
Smart Stat Guy in the Back: Sorry, it was totally worth it and I couldn't pass it up.
Jon Miller: I'll give you that. Anyway...oh hold on a second...(turns Mike off as he picks up his phone) Hello? Oh great! I'll send someone down for it now. (hangs up) My philly-cheesesteak-bratwurst-oreo-banana split pizza's here! WEEEEE!!!
Douggy Bombs: Mike Lowell can go [bad word] himself, that [bad word]ing piece of overachieving [poop].
B.A. Baracus: Yeah, good play to minimize the damage though.
Douggy Bombs: Thanks, that's not as good as the show I put on in BP. I was launching balls out of Fenway with a telephone pole.
Jack Bauer: Dammit!!! I KNEW someone took one of my condoms!!!
Douggy Bombs: Oh, damn. Sorry dude, I thought it was mine. If you want to use my live rattle snake, go ahead. Just make sure you give that mother[love maker] a good cleaning before you give it back.
Jack Bauer: Thanks, man. Anyway, don't let me hold you up. Get up to bat and kick some ass.
Douggy Bombs: Will do.
In the 5th inning
Jon Miller: And there's a drive to deep left! And......it's tied! Robinson Cano with a drive...over the wall in left. His 18th of the year. And this ballgame is tied.
Joe Morgan: The ball just jumps off his bat, Jon. Cano swings an explosive stick.
Jon Miller: Pfffffff fff fff fff fff!!!!!!
Joe Morgan: What's so funny?
Jon Miller: Well, you know..."explosive stick"?
Joe Morgan: I don't get it.
Smart Stat Guy in the Back: Your broadcasting career in one sentence.
Douggy Bombs: Wow, Robby likes to go oppo on Schilling.
B.A. Baracus: I know, that's the third time he's done that off him this year.
Jack Bauer: I just hope next time Cano lines one off Schilling's fat face next time.
Douggy Bombs: I'm on deck, dude. I'll take care of it.
Jack Bauer: True dat.
B.A. Baracus: Look at these fans. They're [adjective] retards. If you were to put the guys in Red Sox uniforms, I wouldn't be able to distinguish between those stupid [nouns] and like, Eric Hinske. And listen to them. They're chanting "Yankees suck" after Cano [adverb] ties the game with a home run.
Douggy Bombs: I'll take care of this. (to crowd) Hey, douchebags. I stole back the ball from the last out of the '04 World Series, had Shelley Duncan write "Red Sox suck" on it, wiped my ass with it, let my pet rhino drop a [numero dos] on it, then self-hit it into the Atlantic Ocean.
(crowd exits ballpark in a frenzy, storms into Atlantic Ocean, and they all drown)
Douggy Bombs: That good enough for ya, guys?
B.A. Baracus and Jack Bauer: That was awesome.
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3 comments:
don't forget this gem:
shot of concession stand at Fenway. Morgan and Miller talking about the food for a few seconds, then:
Miller: "Boy, any place with those kind of concessions is my kind of place!"
Bombs: "Let's amend: Anything with food - fresh, leftover or slightly rotten - or a large collection of dead animals and/or plants, is Mr. Miller's kind of place."
In fact, if they ever decide to euthanize those Michael Vick dogs, I can think of one way to do it that doesn't involve electrocution or throwing into trees.
Rather, it only requires putting Jon Miller's stomach on Speed Dial.
OH NO HE DI-INT!!!
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