Monday, January 16, 2006

I have a dream remix

Martin Luther King was an avid baseball fan. He was shot in the same year the A's moved to Oakland. Coincidence? You bet. But here's the famous speech that he uttered at the Lincoln Memorial back in ought-three (we had to say ought cuz the Kaiser stole our word for sixty), about how much he hated Macha and wished he'd be mauled to death by Grizzly Bears or something. Silver tongue he had, that MLK Jr. And like Yoda do I speak, apparently. But Martin ruled. And not the gay "first snapdragon of the spring" Martin. I'm talking the good Martin. This guy knew what was up. Anywhere, here's the alternate speech that you were never meant to hear:




"I have a dream that one day this Athletics Nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of the following creed: "We hold Ken Macha to be self-evident what a fucking asshole he is: that all men are most definitely not created equal; some of them can use their brains." I have a dream that one day on the brown hills of Oakland, Macha's bloody corpse will be dragged out there and he will be set on fire to live in his own personal hell....you know, until he dies. I have a dream that one day even the state of Pennsylvania, a redneck state, sweltering with idiots, will be transformed into a prison for Ken Macha, and he won't be allowed to leave because he's such a fucking doucherag. I have a dream that my children (my proverbial A's fan children) will one day live in a nation where their team isn't automatically eliminated from postseason play before the season but one where they have a chance to see their favorite ballclub win. I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day the state of California, whose governor's lips are presently dripping with words that nobody can understand (and your motorcycle accident didn't help in that regard), will be transformed into a situation where little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls and not have their manager be so god damn retarded. I have a dream today. I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, the crooked places will be made straight, and Macha will be hung in effigy while he all throw rocks at his head and poke him with sharp things. With this faith our lineups will make sense, our pitching changes will be timely, and our manager will be conscious during games. With this faith we will one day be able to win more ballgames, to stand up and cheer when we win, knowing that we have a chance to win.

This will be the day when some of God's children (the ones who are A's fans) will be able to sing with a new meaning, "Take me out to the ballgame, take me out with the crowd, because our manager isn't a fucking dipshit and watching these bunch of losers might actually be worth my time for once" (GREAT song). Take me out to Anaheim, to Seattle, to New York, to Boston, to Minnesota, and to Tampa Bay. Take me out to the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania. Take me out to the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado. Take me out to the curvaceous peaks of California. But not only that, let Macha be stoned to death in Georgia. Let Macha be attacked by mountain lions or whatever the fuck predators are in Tennessee. Let Macha be shot in the face in Mississippi. From every mountainside, take me out to see Macha's death.

When we let freedom ring, it is because Jason Kendall is batting 9th. Scott Hatteberg isn't batting at all. Barry Zito isn't pitching to Ronnie Belliard when everybody knows that Zito has nothing left. We will be able to speed up that day when our team, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing because they aren't destined to second place. When Ken Macha's bloody, lifeless corpse is hanging on a coat-rack somewhere in the middle of Bumfuck, Ohio, and we're not losing to the Red Sox SOLELY because Macha has the intellectual ability of one of my farts (did you know that Frosted Flakes make your farts much more hilariously smellilicious?), we can all join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last......because Ken Macha is dead of a stab wound to the head!""

3 Comments:

Anonymous Duke Wellington said...

*tears*

the true meaning of MLK Day, and it's a beautiful thing

Monday, January 16, 2006 3:21:00 PM  
Anonymous Gum Chewer said...

nice.

Monday, January 16, 2006 3:44:00 PM  
Anonymous Zonis said...

Ahem

Monday, January 16, 2006 3:54:00 PM  

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