I guess I should offer my valuable insight into the Stephen Strasburg shutdown debate as well

So it seems to me the biggest argument against the Nats shutting down Strasburg is that, hey, this just might be their year. Forget the fact they very purposely built towards having a long run of their years, which was supposed to begin next season. So really, they’ve done their job better than expected, and are reaping the rewards. Now in most professional cases, the response would be, “Oh cool, you’re really good at what you’re doing. I think I shall trust your judgment on matters pertaining to these continuing endeavors. Great job, brocephus.”
Except this is the baseball, a game worshipped by armchair theoretical physicists with two external hard drives full of sortable spreadsheets chock stuffed with obscure yet important data. However, these amateur statisticians, for whatever reason, very commonly are seduced by the lustful ramblings of strange fairies from the deep dark woods where Babe Ruth’s home run bats were hand-hewned by magical elves who understand the ways of baseball far more than us normal men ever could. And these strange fairies whisper unto the ears of every baseball player, pundit, blogger, and traditional newspaper columnist, “How dare these Nationals of the Washington shut down Stephen K. Strasburg, for this could be their magical year,” and then they laugh a laughter that sounds like feral children raised by coyotes playing “squirrel hunt” together. And yeah, I guess it makes sense if you believe in magical nonsense and all that shit. And sure, even Tommy John, who one would illogically assume is the ultimate authority on Tommy John Surgery, said Strasburg should keep pitching. Except, of course, Tommy John is not actually a surgeon; he is Tommy John, the guy who first had his elbow re-manufactured from Estonian parts.
But here is the one thing that keeps coming up in my mind (other than the aforementioned “If the Nats have proven ahead of schedule they know what the fuck they’re doing, then why would you question what they’re doing?”), over and over, that I’d ask you to riddle me if you will…
If this truly is the Nats one and only chance and the great magical year for their entire franchise’s existence and city’s existence to be remembered by baseball forever, then why the fuck would it matter if Strasburg plays again or not? If this is their chosen year, by magic and the universe, what slight is put upon magic and the universe that would cause them to be like, “Oh wait, fuck these Nats,” if Strasburg sat out the rest of the magical, destiny-soaked ride they are enjoying? What the fuck?
The whole thing is so stupid because it assumes the team is just along for the ride, that there’s not a ton more swirling around this franchise than Strasburg alone. Sure, he is a major part of the story, and along with Bryce Harper, the youthful double-face of this franchise’s future, but still, come on.
Basically what I think I’m saying is shut the fuck up everybody. I do not need to know everybody on earth’s opinion of how much Stephen Strasburg should pitch or not pitch. And while I believe in magic far more than the 500-page file on Tommy John surgery statistics the Nats allegedly have somewhere as guidance on this matter, I also believe enough in magic, and can recognize how magical this season has been, that one dude is not going to fuck it up by being gone. Baseball is so stupid with it’s “don’t jinx the no-hitter” and eating spaghetti before away afternoon games and all that hooha. And celebrity conjecture posing as serious analysis on Stephen Strasburg’s bionic elbow has just really gotten on my fucking nerves.
Also, fuck Chipper Jones. There, I said it. He looks like an asshole, and just because an asshole gets old doing the same thing over and over does not mean he is no longer an asshole, or at least looks like one.
Also here are some other baseball-related things I want to say fuck you too as we enter this postseason 2012, the year of our Magical Fairy Elves blessing the Nationals into the playoffs first time ever I MEAN EVER:
- that bowtie chump on Fox baseball
- all five Sam Malone from Cheers wannabes that host the pre-game/post-game thing, whose names I never remember other than they all sound like a pack of date-raping Theta Chi members I’d fistfight with drunkenly on my drunken way home from hanging out at a real bar, not some chump ass frat party
- the Yankees always and forever, especially A-Rod but really all of them
- people who think Bartolo Colon is somehow not as awesome as he was last week
- Presidential Election commercials on TV during baseball which is already hard enough to follow for a whole game without giant “PLEASE TURN OFF THIS MACHINE AND MOVE TO NORWAY BEFORE AMERICA IS EVEN STUPIDER THAN IT ALREADY IS” ads in between every half-inning
- and a bunch of other things most likely