So far I've written a blog post every day for the month of November and am but 800 words behind the pace for NaNoWriMo (with 10 hours left in the day, so no problemo there as I've been on a bit of a roll the last two days), so I suppose the two are complimenting each other quite well. So far, so good, but for the fact it's cutting into my drinking time. Not that I can't stop drinking for an extended period, because I've done that once already this year, but it's a dangerous thing to have a WPBT gathering on the horizon and going into it without establishing a proper booze foundation. That's how you end up in a wheelchair or in a public bathroom of the incorrect gender.
Is it really just five weeks away. Snuck up on me 'til now, but since I've given voice to it, the rest of the time is sure to drag. My last Vegas trip was last December, which means this is the longest time between Vegas trips for me in...10 years?...15? A substantial chunk, I assure you. I'm going to be shot out of a cannon on Dec. 11.
I am not a petty man. Sure, in small doses. But I am genetically unable to hold grudges against people. Of course, every rule has an exception. Mine is Jason Giambi.
Hell Hath No Fury like an Oakland A's fan scorned.
It wasn't that he left. It wasn't that he left for the Yankees. Though those two facts quite literally broke my heart, it was the deceitful manner of his exit which pushed me down the path to hate. There is ample evidence that Giambi never even considered re-signing with the A's, that his winter-long flirtation with the most expensive contract in team history was simply a ruse to keep public opinion on his side. Every nugget of information that was leaked pointed to his re-signing as simply a matter of dotting and crossing, but each time "something came up." And the organization bent to each and every one of those whims, which was clearly not in Giambi's plan. He needed the team to fold, to keep his Outlaw Hero status. He failed, dropping the No Trade Clause deal-breaker at the 11th Hour, because the organization didn't make it possible for him to leave any other way.
We didn't realize that at the time, of course, but public opinion swayed in a hurry when he signed quickly with the Yanks and then went on national TV and bashed Oakland, the city and the fans. He's just a dumbfuck jock, so you can kind of let some of that shit slide, but he was treated like royalty in Oakland in a way he will never be treated anywhere else. He was LOVED dammit. Do you know any Yankee fans who love him? Who would take Giambi over Tino Martinez?
One of the things he said was, "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em," which is such a massive pussy cop-out, considering he didn't exactly set the world on fire the two ALDSs the A's lost to the Yanks. "I'm going to the Yankees to win a World Series."
The Yanks bought out his option this week. He's certain to leave the Bronx without ever getting that ring. There is sentiment in Oakland to bring him back, bygones being bygones. Not from me.
I don't want Jason Giambi to win a ring. It used to be I didn't want him to win one with the Yanks, since it was his and his father's "dream" to play for them. You know, if he'd said that before he yanked me around for three tortuous months, I'd be long past the begrudging stage. But he did.
He got a shit-ton of cash out of Big Stein. And with his steroid admissions and health problems, that $91 million the A's offered was better spent elsewhere. It all worked out in the end. So far. I won't totally be satisfied until he retires ringless.