So long for now, KC

I’m only a few minutes from leaving Kansas City and heading back to Russell.

Had the World Series ended by now, I might have stopped at Buffalo Wild Wings in Salina, since my favorite trivia game, SIX, is tonight. However, no way in hell I’m going to battle the crowd for Game 7 of the World Series.

Cubs fans are the worst. They are the most arrogant, most insufferable, most whiny fans around. They believe God owes them the World Series after the franchise has suffered for so long. They believe they are God’s chosen team and there is no way you can possibly hate the Cubs. If you hate the Cubs, you are some freak who also hates America.

Bullshit.

I have never been a Cubs fan and I never will be. I got sick and tired of it in 1984, when the Cubs were winning the National League East, and WGN broadcast almost every game. I got nauseous listening to Harry Caray gloat over the Cubs’ success. I hated his complete bias. His son, Skip, was just as bad doing it for the Braves, who were on TBS.

I was so happy when the Padres rallied from 2-0 down in the 1984 National League Championship Series to win, but it might have been just as good if the Cubs had made it to the World Series then gotten hammered by the Tigers.

I left Buffalo Wild Wings last night during the first inning, by which time the Cubs led the Indians. In the third, Addison Russell’s grand slam made it 7-0, and I just about gave up. Joe Buck, the worst announcer in sports, is so far in the bag for the Cubs it’s terrible. He and all the other national media are on the Cubs bandwagon, not only because the Cubs are trying to win their first World Series since 1908, but they’re also playing the Indians, who have that evil Chief Wahoo mascot.

Again, BULLSHIT!

I’m so glad the Indians have told the politically correct assholes SCREW YOU by wearing the Chief Wahoo hats every game.

The trip to Kansas City has been a very good one, save for an incident Monday night, when four illegal aliens were sitting outside an entrance to the hotel drinking and smoking, making me fear for my safety. I saw Robb and Dawn three times, which made it much more worth it.

Brittany Davidson Morgan, the bane of my existence, is pregnant. More on that when I get back to Russell.

About David

I am a sportswriter for a group of weekly newspapers in small towns across northern Kansas. I grew up in New Orleans, went to college at LSU and wandered in the wilderness until Hurricane Katrina finally put me on the path to my current job.

Posted on November 2, 2016, in Major League Baseball, Personal and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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