03-18-2010, 01:22 PM
<!--quoteo(post=83213:date=Mar 18 2010, 12:03 PM:name=Butcher)-->QUOTE (Butcher @ Mar 18 2010, 12:03 PM) <{POST_SNAPBACK}><!--quotec-->Bradley article
This should be required reading. This paragraph, in particular, had me in tears:
<!--quoteo--><div class='quotetop'>QUOTE <!--quotec-->Anyone who ever defended this lowlife (myself included) should be ashamed. If you’re like me, you go to a job every day which you might not particularly care for. You have to tolerate people who might not be QUITE as annoying as Ryan Dempster, but they’re not your favorite people. You make a living, but you’re almost definitely not making $10M a year to go to work 124 times. Yet you manage to find happiness. You find it in an unseasonably warm day during a long Chicago winter. You find it in the smile of a beautiful girl (or boy; no judgments). You find it in the drumming of the rain, the irresistible wagging of your dog’s tail, the beauty of a new snow, a baby’s laugh, or the smell of cut grass. You find happiness in your friends, your family, your God. Now, imagine if every time you thought of those things, Milton Bradley was fucking them in the ass. That’s how he chooses to feel EVERY DAY. And he plays baseball for a living. Fuck him.<!--QuoteEnd--><!--QuoteEEnd-->
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I enjoyed that.
This should be required reading. This paragraph, in particular, had me in tears:
<!--quoteo--><div class='quotetop'>QUOTE <!--quotec-->Anyone who ever defended this lowlife (myself included) should be ashamed. If you’re like me, you go to a job every day which you might not particularly care for. You have to tolerate people who might not be QUITE as annoying as Ryan Dempster, but they’re not your favorite people. You make a living, but you’re almost definitely not making $10M a year to go to work 124 times. Yet you manage to find happiness. You find it in an unseasonably warm day during a long Chicago winter. You find it in the smile of a beautiful girl (or boy; no judgments). You find it in the drumming of the rain, the irresistible wagging of your dog’s tail, the beauty of a new snow, a baby’s laugh, or the smell of cut grass. You find happiness in your friends, your family, your God. Now, imagine if every time you thought of those things, Milton Bradley was fucking them in the ass. That’s how he chooses to feel EVERY DAY. And he plays baseball for a living. Fuck him.<!--QuoteEnd--><!--QuoteEEnd-->
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I enjoyed that.